Chapter Forty: Huo Yuanjia

As the music was about to begin, the room was so silent one could hear a pin drop. Everyone unconsciously softened their breathing, waiting for the first note to sound.

The moment the song started, the thunderous Chinese drums jolted everyone awake. The rhythm, seemingly slow yet actually swift, grew faster and faster! The addition of the row drums instantly pushed the song’s momentum to its peak. Then, a single clash of the bronze gong signaled the true opening of this audiovisual feast.

The guzheng, erhu, electric guitar, drum kit—Chinese and Western instruments fused perfectly in this moment, sparking a fierce collision of sounds. The electrifying rhythm sent chills through everyone present, goosebumps rising as if struck by lightning.

Just the stunning prelude alone convinced Zhang Yichuan—it had to be this song!

But the real performance was only just beginning. None of those present could have guessed that what they were about to hear was a groundbreaking masterpiece.

The stirring prelude established an enormous atmosphere, and just then, Zhou Miao’s voice entered right on cue:

“Hah! How many rounds does fate have in the ring, waiting for us? What does winning a life-and-death contract bring but cold laughter? So what if you’re the best in the world? To stop conflict, we warriors must honor virtue!”

“My fists and kicks are formidable, yet what for, if all I gain is empty fame! The martial world is unpredictable; who is truly strong, who earns the right to unite the martial arts?”

His voice, cold yet tinged with pride, made Zhang Yichuan’s eyes shine—what lyrics! And the singing was even better! The proud tone felt as if Huo Yuanjia himself were singing.

Just as he was about to marvel further, the entire mood of the song shifted abruptly—a breathtaking falsetto in operatic style pierced everyone’s ears!

“In the small town, the years pass by; clear courage, memories washed clean—I remember you, living proudly on.”

Zhang Yichuan’s eyes widened; he no longer knew what words could describe the overwhelming impact of this singing. It was simply a stroke of genius!

Before his eyes, two parallel scenes seemed to unfold: on one side, a spirited young martial artist stood atop the ring, looking down at all contenders with pride. On the other, a songstress in a dance hall sang of bittersweet memories and her admiration for the young man.

He had never encountered a song that could evoke such cinematic imagination.

At this moment, the melody, previously gentle and graceful, erupted again with passionate vigor—a chorus reminiscent of martial artists shouting during their training burst forth.

“Huo! Huo! Huo! Huo! Huo! Huo! Huo! Huo! The Huo family’s boxing is agile and flexible, alive! Alive! Alive! Alive! Alive! Alive! Alive! Alive! To live, life must be complete. Passed! Passed! Passed! Passed! Passed! Passed! Passed! Passed! Weakness and mistakes never belong to me—me! Me! Me! Me! Me! Me! Me! Me! When Jingwu strikes, none can dodge!”

Truly brilliant! The lyrics were so ingenious one could only applaud. Each line’s last word became the first word of the next, the transitions seamless, fully embodying Huo Yuanjia’s spirit.

Compared to Zhang Yichuan, who could only exclaim how amazing it sounded, the professionals felt the impact even more deeply. The composition, lyrics, and arrangement had reached heights he could not even grasp. He could even assert:

This song had reached the very pinnacle of the Chinese music scene! It was no exaggeration.

In this age often described as a musical desert, to encounter such a prodigy as Zhou Miao—was it a fleeting spark before the end, or the herald of a glorious new era?

Seeing everyone’s reactions, Zhou Miao breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed his version of “Huo Yuanjia” was more than adequate—he hadn’t embarrassed the original composer.

When the song ended, Zhou Miao smiled and asked, “Director Zhang, are you satisfied with this song?”

Zhang Yichuan looked at Zhou Miao’s proud face and replied, “If your song isn’t good enough, then nothing in the Chinese music scene is!”

Zhou Miao laughed heartily, returning Zhang Yichuan’s previous joke to him. But this time, Zhang Yichuan spoke from the heart. At his age, he usually couldn’t appreciate the music young people liked, but Zhou Miao—so young—had written a song that deeply shocked even him, a middle-aged man.

“The youth are truly formidable,” Zhang Yichuan sighed.

“And you recorded the whole song directly? I thought it was just a demo. Were you so confident I’d want your song?”

Zhou Miao took a sip of water. “Either way, recording it wasn’t a loss. If you didn’t want it, I’d include it on my own album sooner or later.”

Zhang Yichuan thought it over and agreed. He’d only intended to buy a suitable theme song, but after hearing it, he changed his mind. This song could be a major selling point for the film.

After a brief pause, Zhang Yichuan said, “Alright, for this song, I’ll pay five million. That price should be fair enough.”

Zuo Qiu nodded in agreement. For a newcomer like Zhou Miao, this offer was very sincere.

Zhou Miao was also satisfied. Few domestic movie theme songs ever sold for such a price, and he would retain the rights.

Zhang Yichuan rubbed his hands. “But I hope when we announce it publicly, we say I paid ten million. The movie’s releasing at the end of the year, you know how it goes…”

Zuo Qiu smiled understandingly. That was no issue at all—a simple publicity gimmick.

“Also, I want to use the song as a promotional track for the film before release. You’ll need to help shoot some footage to combine with movie clips for the music video.”

These requests were quite standard, and Zhou Miao agreed without hesitation.

The agreement reached, Zhang Yichuan had his assistant bring the contract, and both parties signed it that very day.

That evening, Zhang Yichuan posted a photo with Zhou Miao on social media, captioned, “Many say I’m stingy, but the theme song young Zhou wrote for my new film made me gladly pay ten million—and I still feel like I got a great bargain.”

The post stirred up a storm. Soon, keywords like “Zhou Miao’s sky-high theme song,” “Zhang Yichuan’s new film theme song ten million,” and so on, fueled by lively online discussion and Zhang Yichuan’s deliberate promotion, rapidly shot to the top of trending topics.

“A song with barely a hundred words, ten million? Zhou Miao’s lyrics are worth a hundred thousand each!”

“I just want to hear it—what kind of song could be worth ten million?”

“Other people’s kids: seventeen years old, wrote a song and sold it for ten million. My kid: twenty-seven, just asked me for a thousand.”

“If any other singer sold a song for ten million, I’d be flaming them every second. Zhou Miao… I’ll wait for the song and decide after I listen.”

…

To build hype for the upcoming film, the release of “Huo Yuanjia” and its music video was urgent. Zhou Miao specially asked Guan Yu for a few days off.

Guan Yu checked Zhou Miao’s homework and nodded in satisfaction. His young apprentice truly had talent—he understood things instantly, never repeated mistakes.

He agreed readily, reminding him, “The unified exams are only a few months away. After this, put those activities aside and focus on preparing.”

Zhou Miao nodded to show he understood—he had planned to do just that.