EFB Chapter 47 Xu Zhongming, So This Is What a Big Shot Is
Chapter 47 Xu Zhongming, So This Is What a Big Shot Is
On the third night, Li Si'an was unpacking a newly arrived box of cassette tapes behind the counter when the phone rang.
This time he didn't hesitate. He put the cassette tape on the counter, stood up, and picked up the microphone.
"Feed?"
"Anzi, this is your uncle," Zhou Weidong's voice said. "We've made arrangements with Xu Zhongming."
Li Si'an gripped the microphone, remaining silent.
"Meet at the entrance of the China Record Corporation Building tomorrow at 3 PM on Tianningsiqian Street."
"China Record Corporation Building?"
"Yes. No. 2 Tianningsiqian Street, the compound of China Record Corporation. Jingwen Records is located in the compound, Building B." Zhou Weidong paused:
"That place is easy to find. You'll see it when you get there—go to the end of a small road, and there's a sign for China Record Corporation hanging at the gate. I'll go directly from my workplace, and we'll meet at the gate."
"OK."
Zhou Weidong added, "I showed the sheet music for those three songs to Xu Zhongming a couple of days ago."
Li Si'an's eyebrows twitched slightly.
"What did he say?"
"If he hadn't liked it, he wouldn't have made the appointment this time." Zhou Weidong's tone was slightly amused.
"He approves of the score. The main reason I called you over today is to see what kind of person you are—your appearance, your voice, and whether you have that kind of drive."
Li Si'an gripped the microphone and nodded.
"Understood."
"Xu Zhongming has a sharp eye," Zhou Weidong said. "I praised you to him before, saying that my nephew is handsome and no less so than Mao Ning or Cai Guoqing. He said he wanted to see it for himself and hear it for himself."
"Okay. Tomorrow at 3 PM, Tianning Temple Front Street."
After hanging up the phone, Li Si'an leaned against the counter and let out a sigh of relief. After waiting two or three days, it had finally arrived.
The next day after lunch, he took out the white shirt and dark gray trousers again and tidied himself up in front of the mirror.
Tang Yun leaned against the door, looking at him without saying a word, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"How is it?"
"Same as last time." Tang Yun tilted her head and examined him for a while. "I'll say it again—you could wear a burlap sack over your face."
Li Si'an smiled, kissed her on the cheek, picked up his bag, and went downstairs.
He flagged down a minivan on the roadside and gave the driver his address. The driver nodded, and the car headed towards Xibianmen.
Li Si'an leaned back in the back seat, looking at the street scene outside the window, feeling both excited and a little nervous.
The car turned onto Tianning Temple Front Street, a narrow road about a hundred meters long, lined with old, gray buildings on both sides. At the end of the road, a courtyard gate suddenly opened wide.
Inside the courtyard stood a small gray-white building with five large golden characters on its roof: "BJ Records," which shone brightly in the sun.
A white sign with black lettering hangs on one side of the outer wall of the courtyard gate, which reads "China Record Corporation". A half-meter-tall stone lion sculpture supports the sign, obscuring the word "Company".
Li Si'an paid the fare and got out of the car.
I peeked inside from the gate. The courtyard was quite deep, with several old, gray buildings scattered around. Two rows of locust trees lined both sides of the road, and a few cars were parked under their shade.
Inside the courtyard gate was a gatehouse with an open window. An old man was sitting inside, fanning himself with a fan.
He didn't go in; he just stood at the courtyard gate and waited. The sun was scorching at the end of June, and after standing there for a while, a thin layer of sweat seeped through the back of his shirt.
After waiting for about five or six minutes, a Santana turned from the street corner and stopped next to him. Zhou Weidong got out, wearing a dark blue short-sleeved shirt and carrying a black briefcase.
He glanced at Li Si'an, looked him up and down, and nodded.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Just arrived."
"Let's go."
The two entered the courtyard. Zhou Weidong nodded to the old man in the gatehouse, who didn't stop him and waved his hand. They crossed the courtyard and turned into a building next door, with a sign hanging at the entrance—"Building B".
Pushing open the glass door, a distinctive smell of the old building hit me, mixed with the plastic smell of paper and cassette tapes.
The corridor was not well lit, the fluorescent lights overhead were humming, and some parts of the walls were yellowed, but the floor was swept clean.
A young woman in her early twenties with curly hair was sitting at the front desk, flipping through a magazine. Zhou Weidong walked over and tapped the counter lightly twice.
The young woman looked up, quickly stuffed the magazine into the drawer, and stood up with a smile: "Teacher Zhou is here? President Xu is waiting on the third floor."
Zhou Weidong nodded and led Li Si'an towards the stairs. The stairwell was paved with terrazzo flooring, which made a thumping sound when stepped on.
There were several record posters on the wall, some by Han Hong, some by Guo Feng, and a few by Li Si'an whose names she didn't recognize.
There was a Grammy Awards poster on the corner. The printing was quite nice, but the edges were curled up, so it looked like it had been there for a while.
Upon reaching the third floor, Zhou Weidong found a door at the end of the corridor ajar, with a plastic sign above it that read "General Manager's Office." He walked to the door and knocked twice.
"Come in."
Pushing open the door, I found the office to be small, about ten square meters.
An old-fashioned solid wood desk stood by the window, with stacks of documents, a pile of sheet music, a telephone, and an enamel teacup with a ring of rust around the rim.
Two metal filing cabinets stood in the corner, with several album cover drafts pasted on the cabinet doors.
The window was open, and outside were two rows of old locust trees in the yard, their leaves lush and green, rustling in the wind.
Through the gaps in the treetops, you can see the ancient Liao Dynasty pagoda of Tianning Temple not far away. It is octagonal with thirteen stories, and its gray body gleams with an ancient luster under the afternoon sun.
There was a person sitting behind the desk. He was in his early thirties, of medium height, with a slightly round face, wearing thin-rimmed black glasses, and had dark skin. He also had his hair parted to the side.
He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt with one button undone at the collar and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing a section of his muscular forearm.
When Li Si'an saw that face, her heart skipped a beat.
He recognized the face.
We didn't know each other in this life, we knew each other in a past life. (News from 2010: Huang Guangyu's case final verdict announced.)
CCTV's camera panned across the defendant's dock, where a middle-aged man with dark skin and a slightly round face had his head down and his hands folded on his lap.
The voice-over reads the verdict: Xu Zhongming, convicted of insider trading and leaking insider information, is sentenced to three years in prison and fined RMB 100 million.
Huang Guangyu was the richest man in China at the time. Xu Zhongming was the chairman of Zhongguancun Technology, a fellow Chaoshan native of Huang Guangyu, and the only person besides Huang Guangyu and his wife to be sentenced to imprisonment in that sensational case.
A fine of 100 million and a three-year prison sentence. In his past life, when he saw this news in his rented room, he was so busy marveling at the exorbitant fine that he didn't even notice this face.
But now, this face is sitting right in front of him, alive and well, holding an enamel teacup, looking him over.
Xu Zhongming in 1996. The owner of Jingwen Records. He hadn't yet become entangled with Huang Guangyu, and hadn't yet fallen into that storm.
But Li Si'an knew where this person would end up.
Xu Zhongming was drinking tea from his enamel teacup when he saw Zhou Weidong come in. He put down his cup, stood up, and smiled broadly.
"Old Zhou! Come, come, have a seat."
The voice wasn't loud, and it had a slight accent from the Chaoshan region of Guangdong, with a slightly drawn-out ending.
He walked around the desk, shook hands with Zhou Weidong, and patted him on the shoulder with considerable force. Then his gaze shifted to Li Si'an, giving him a once-over.
"Is this your nephew?"
"Li Si'an." Zhou Weidong stepped aside. "Si'an, call him President Xu."
"Hello, Mr. Xu."
Xu Zhongming nodded, his gaze lingering on Li Si'an's face for a moment, then he didn't say anything more, gesturing with his chin toward the sofa.
"sit."
The sofa was made of artificial leather, dark brown, and a bit sticky to the legs. On the coffee table was an ashtray with a few cigarette butts stuck in it.
Next to it was an enamel tea tray with three upside-down glasses and a thermos on it.
Xu Zhongming did not sit back behind his desk, but instead pulled up a chair and sat down opposite the sofa.
This action stirred something within Li Si'an—not speaking across the desk meant he wasn't going to put on airs as the boss, which was a good sign.
Xu Zhongming picked up the thermos, turned over the three glasses, and poured tea into each one. The tea was Tieguanyin, a bright yellow color, with a fragrance of orchids wafting out.
He pushed the cup towards Zhou Weidong and Li Si'an, picked it up and took a sip, then leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on Li Si'an for a moment.
"Old Zhou praised you to me." He spoke slowly and deliberately, with a touch of the accent typical of southerners. "He said you look good, no less so than Mao Ning or Cai Guoqing."
He picked up his cup and took another sip, then looked away from Li Si'an's face.
"I've seen the sheet music. 'Fairy Tale,' 'Running,' and 'The First Time'—did you write all three yourself?"
"I wrote it."
Xu Zhongming nodded and put the cup down.
"It's a good thing. I read it that very night when Lao Zhou gave it to me."
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning Li Si'an.
"But you also know that you can't judge a book by just looking at the sheet music. A good song is one thing, but what kind of person the singer is is another."
He looked at Li Si'an.
"Sing a couple of lines for me."