Chapter Twenty-Seven: Signing the Contract

The following evening, Zuo Qiu arrived alone, carrying a bottle of red wine. Zhang Liangkuan, having completed his task, had taken the high-speed train home early that morning to look after his music school.

When Zhou Ye and Hong Xue saw Zuo Qiu, they exchanged a glance. Was the owner of Rainbow Records really such a young and stunningly beautiful girl? Though surprised, they didn't show it, greeting her warmly and inviting her in.

Zuo Qiu’s first impression of Zhou Miao’s parents was exceedingly positive—they were refined and cultured, unsurprising given they had raised such an outstanding child. The house itself also revealed their affluence. To own such a large detached villa in the heart of a new first-tier city implied assets valued at least in the hundreds of millions. No wonder Zhou Miao wasn’t tempted by the offers from major record labels—he truly didn’t need the money.

Zhou Miao looked over the contract Zuo Qiu had brought. Just as she had described the day before, it granted him a great deal of freedom, with virtually no restrictions. The signing bonus was two million, which was fair, and the revenue split was an extraordinary sixty-forty in his favor.

Receiving forty percent was by no means a loss for Zhou Miao; only a rare handful of top-tier artists in the industry ever secured such a generous share. After all, launching an artist required a company to invest significant money and resources, and Rainbow was even willing to shoulder his future manager’s commission.

Moreover, all rights and subsequent royalties for songs Zhou Miao composed would remain his—a remarkably favorable contract overall. Of course, the penalty for breach of contract was steep: fifty million.

But that was of little concern. So long as the collaboration went smoothly, who would think of breaking the contract? What gave Zhou Miao pause was the duration of the agreement: ten years, though that was standard in the industry.

“Isn’t signing for ten years at once a bit too long?” Zhou Miao voiced his concern.

Sitting upright, Zuo Qiu explained, “Actually, a ten-year contract is considered short these days. Newcomers now sign for at least fifteen years. Besides, we considered that you’re only a high school junior. If you get accepted into the composition department at the Central Conservatory, that’s a five-year course—those years would fly by while your studies take priority. In practice, the contract won’t feel long at all.”

Zhou Miao thought it over and realized she was right. He nodded to his parents, signaling that he was fine with it. Hong Xue and Zhou Miao reviewed the contract a few more times before he and his guardian finally signed.

Holding the signed contract, Zuo Qiu felt as if she were dreaming. It had all happened so smoothly!

Zhou Miao, who had been courted by so many entertainment companies, had chosen the little-known Rainbow Records. If word of this got out, it would shock everyone.

Hong Xue smiled and shook Zuo Qiu’s hand. “We’re entrusting Zhou Miao to you. He has a straightforward nature and sometimes inadvertently offends people. Please be patient with him.”

Zuo Qiu’s face flushed with excitement as she grasped Hong Xue’s hand tightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll treat him like my own younger brother.”

Zhou Ye clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Over dinner, they discussed Zhou Miao’s living arrangements in Beijing. Zuo Qiu suggested he stay in the company’s trainee dorms, which were all one-bedroom apartments, with the company cafeteria downstairs and close to the professor she knew.

“When do you plan to go to Beijing?” Zhou Ye asked.

Zhou Miao thought for a moment. His academic subjects were solid—he could easily pass the entrance threshold with a final review before the exams. But he was still lacking in the subjects required for the arts entrance exam, whose preliminary round would be in April next year. Time was tight; it would be best to leave as soon as possible.

“The day after tomorrow. I’ll ask for leave at school tomorrow and head to Beijing the day after,” Zhou Miao replied.

Early the next morning, Zhou Miao went to Li Xueqin’s office to explain.

Li Xueqin looked worried. “I’ve done some research recently—the composition department at the Central Conservatory is very difficult to get into. With your background, you’d have a better shot at the piano department. Are you sure about this?”

Zhou Miao had considered this. “I can apply for both. I’ll register for both composition and piano. Don’t worry.”

Li Xueqin nodded. Since he was determined, there was nothing more to say. She wished him the best and wrote him a leave slip.

Back in the classroom, Hu San was bent over a book of mistakes, deep in thought, her lips pursed high, a pen stuck between her nose and upper lip.

Lately, Zhou Miao had noticed a marked change in her; she was working much harder. Previously, her grades were average in class, but in recent exams, she’d done quite well.

Zhou Miao lay on his desk, staring at her without blinking until Hu San’s cheeks grew red. She punched him in the waist. “What are you staring at?”

Zhou Miao grimaced in pain, clutching his side. That damn monkey never knew her own strength!

“Are you free tonight?” Zhou Miao asked.

Hu San gave him a strange look. “There’s evening study, of course.”

“After evening study, let me take you to a movie.”

“It’ll be past nine by then—if we go to a movie, I won’t get home till after midnight.”

After a moment, seeing Zhou Miao fall silent, Hu San couldn’t help but ask, “What movie?”

“Godzilla. Remember how we missed it last time, and you ended up watching a pirated copy? I’ll make it up to you.”

“But hasn’t it already left theaters?”

“Private cinema. We can watch movies that aren’t showing anymore.”

Private cinema? Hu San had never been to one and the name alone sounded a little dubious.

After hesitating, she asked, “Why are you suddenly inviting me to a movie?”

“Forget it then.” Zhou Miao turned away, pretending to sleep.

Hu San, startled, thought he was angry and quickly tugged his sleeve. “Alright, I’ll go, okay?”

Zhou Miao turned back, a triumphant smile on his face, which made Hu San punch him again.

That whole day, Hu San felt distracted. Zhou Miao’s behavior was odd. Usually, she was the one inviting him; this was the first time he’d taken the initiative. She had a faint sense of foreboding.

That evening, after self-study, she called home to say she’d be late because she was seeing a movie with a friend to relax.

Zhou Miao patted the back seat of his bicycle. “Hop on, your guy friend is taking you to the movies.”

Hu San, blushing, sat sideways on the back, holding onto the hem of Zhou Miao’s jacket. Zhou Miao pulled her hand around his waist. “Hold tight! Don’t be so timid.”

Hu San, both embarrassed and annoyed, punched his back hard, but didn’t let go.

Classmates passing by laughed and pointed at them; someone even took a photo.

Hu San whispered, “Aren’t you afraid they’ll post our photos online?”

Zhou Miao shot back, “So what if they do? Aren’t we best friends?”

Thud! Another punch landed on his back.