Chapter 12: He Just Wants To Write Books, What’s His Crime?
After stepping off the stage, Yu Wei’s first reaction was to take notes…
Although web novels lack literary quality, they still emphasize genuine listening, genuine watching, and genuine feeling. Things one hasn’t experienced are hard to write vividly.
There’s a meme in the comment section: “Have you ever been an XX? Some things are written randomly.” Actually, this statement has some reason.
Just like a poor failure like him naturally can’t imagine the lives of the rich. Even racking his brains, he can only come up with luxury cars, mansions, and luxury watches—it’s a bit too assumptive.
Yu Wei writes entertainment novels. For this industry, having performed on stage is extremely valuable experience that must be utilized.
However, before he could start writing backstage, he was called by several teammates…
To be precise, they should now be called former teammates.
“You kid, quietly doing something big?”
After watching Yu Wei’s performance, their mindsets underwent earth-shaking changes.
They were from the same batch of trainees and, while not particularly close, at least roughly understood each other’s situations.
They knew exactly what level Yu Wei was at before—aside from his face and honest character, he had nothing going for him…
Poor family background, no connections, unremarkable personal abilities; he had nothing and couldn’t do anything right.
But now it’s different.
They heard from Zhang Lingye that “Heart Wall” was actually written by Yu Wei himself. What does that mean?
It means he doesn’t need any background or resources—he himself is his own resource…
These days, singer-songwriters are too scarce.
Especially after short videos exploded in popularity, fewer and fewer people are settling down to create. The music industry has thoroughly entered the “big tailor” era—dab some modifications and it’s a song.
In this situation, what status would a young person who independently creates a high-quality music product have?
Not even discussing the subsequent training value, just based on this one song, his reception won’t be low. With a bit of marketing, he’s a new generation “musical prodigy”…
In entertainment novels, after the protagonist sings a song, there’s always an unavoidable topic: how much is this song worth.
The novel will give a specific number, but in reality, song prices are rarely mentioned separately.
After entering the internet era, entertainment industry transactions are no longer one cent one goods. Rather than saying how much it’s worth, it’s better to say how much it can be worth.
Just like a plush toy, which costs only a few dozen at cost, but if it’s an IP, plus celebrity effect and hype, its price will be unimaginably high…
This song is the same.
How much is it worth on its own, but if bundled with Yu Wei as the creator? And marketed as a “musical prodigy”?
The song is important, but not that important. What’s important is him, the person who writes songs…
Yu Wei wasn’t sure if it was his illusion, but he felt that after stepping off stage, his several old teammates’ attitudes toward him had clearly changed.
Though on the surface they were still calling each other brothers, it seemed a bit cautious.
How to put it—they weren’t as relaxed as before.
This mindset is very complex: surprise, comforted, suspicion, envy, respect, even flattery and sycophancy—all are possible, after all, people are inherently complex.
If a group chat friend who used to fail and chat idly with him suddenly sealed god with one book, his mindset would definitely change too…
Before Yu Wei could interact much with his old teammates, the next second his agent Liu Ning arrived.
Sister Liu always had a stern face in work settings, but tonight she was smiling—a smile without any ulterior motives or scheming.
She was the only one truly happy for him.
Liu Ning directly took Yu Wei away under the pretext of work, leading him away from the hubbub and cutting off others’ thoughts.
Did she not know what calculations these young ones had in mind?
Watching Yu Wei leave, the few felt complex emotions. Before, they hadn’t treated Yu Wei as someone important, and their relationship stayed at the level of superficial friends.
Now, it was too late for regrets…
In the entertainment industry, marketing moves fast, but strength goes far. Moving fast doesn’t count as winning—going far does.
They wanted progress too much!
Zhang Lingye had known early on, so his mindset was relatively calm. Aside from him, Qi Yuan was the steadiest among everyone.
He was envious of Yu Wei’s song, of course, but he also understood: small fame relies on promotion, big fame relies on fate.
More than envy, Qi Yuan felt defeated. Yu Wei’s song had shattered his long-held confidence…
Over four years, he had never seen this mediocre teammate as an opponent or given him a proper glance.
Qi Yuan took four years to beat Zhang Lingye;
But Yu Wei beat him in just one night.
Such an unremarkable teammate came up and instantly defeated him…
This left him somewhat at a loss.
He forced a bitter smile, about to find the recorded broadcast to listen to the song a few more times, when a new message from his younger sister popped up at the top of the screen.
Was this to mock him?
Before, when mocked by her, Qi Yuan would retort directly, but today he was hit hard and chose to lie flat and take the mockery.
Qi Yuan braced for mockery, but Qi Luo An was actually asking for Yu Wei’s contact information.
What was this even more upsetting feeling?
…
Liu Ning took Yu Wei to re-sign the contract.
After RUIKO’s disbandment, his previous contract had expired. Tonight was supposed to be Yu Wei’s last dance, but he danced back.
Said to drown, but you performed water ballet?
Liu Ning had never seen such a self-rescue method in her ten-plus years in the industry, because those facing career-ending crises were usually mediocrities with nothing to turn things around.
Yu Wei was the exception. With this song, what were four years of obscurity?
Just a bit of wind and frost.
“The company fears prolonged delays, so they asked me to contact you tonight for renewal.” Liu Ning’s smile never faded, and she spoke more than usual.
“Mainly afraid you’d be poached by other management companies.”
Ever since the music supervisor communicated with the higher-ups to change the song, Yu Wei’s renewal had been on the agenda.
Especially after seeing his performance tonight, Ying Huo Hua Wen was even more determined to renew. Handsome, talented, with a ready representative work—why not sign such talent?
Worth mentioning: artist contracts aren’t like the indenture contracts written in novels; they have considerable flexibility.
Artist contracts are roughly divided into three types: business contract, economic contract, full contract.
Among them, the full contract is the so-called “contract of indenture”—signed for a long time, eight or ten years, directly covering the artist’s personal rights, business cooperation, and derivative IP.
Signing this means accepting only company-arranged work, with basically no personal freedom, but the benefit is heavily tilted resources.
Full contracts are generally signed only by pure newcomers and pure Old Deng. Newcomers can only sell their lives to break out; veterans eat off their past glory to retire.
Yu Wei completely dismissed the full contract. He’s okay with part-time work, but selling his life is impossible, and he truly doesn’t lack resources anyway…
The other two are half-contracts. The business contract is like business cooperation, only helping to agent works and arrange business cooperation, with very high freedom.
Business contracts suit those with works. Without works, the company won’t take you seriously, and there’s no guarantee.
The economic contract is mutual choice: the artist’s main work focus is on the company, but some free time is retained.
The benefit is security, but you still have to listen to the company.
Business contract is nominal, economic contract is wage work, full contract is selling your life—the pros and cons of each are obvious.
“Business contract is fine—just sell the art, not the body.”
Yu Wei decided quickly, as if he had already made up his mind.
Liu Ning actually hoped he’d sign the economic contract. Even if he couldn’t write other songs later, with an economic contract he’d still thrive.
But she respected Yu Wei’s choice.
Since he chose the business contract, it meant he was very confident in his future works…
Actually, Yu Wei had no choice at all.
Economic and full contracts both require that the artist not have other contracts simultaneously.
But Yu Wei was still a signed author…
He just wanted to write books—what did he do wrong?
