Volume One, Chapter 51: The Theme Song of the Television Series

Hearing Su Muyu’s words, Liu Wenwei frowned. Huayue Entertainment’s main focus was film and television; they had very few talents in music. Could it be that this company wanted to break into the music industry, so they wanted their new artist to use his own theme song as a trial run?

Just as Liu Wenwei was about to refuse, Su Muyu spoke again.

“Director Liu, have you ever heard of Jiang Yu?”

“Jiang Yu?” Liu Wenwei raised an eyebrow. That name sounded familiar. Wait—a moment ago, while scrolling through his phone, he’d seen a singer praised by National Daily. Remembering this, he immediately pulled out his phone and opened the Weibo trending list. “You don’t mean this Jiang Yu, do you?”

Su Muyu smiled and nodded. “That’s the one.”

Liu Wenwei looked surprised, but he was also a bit hesitant.

“I know this young man Jiang Yu. He’s been quite popular recently. I’ve heard some of his songs—they’re pretty good. But can he really compose a theme song for a TV drama?” Sun Tao interrupted with a sneer. “His musical style is worlds apart from historical dramas like this. No matter how talented he is, suitability is key, isn’t it?”

He never expected someone would try to take his job—something Sun Tao absolutely couldn’t accept. As a veteran composer, especially in the genre of historical martial arts dramas, he had his own pride. Even if his songs didn’t become hits, as long as they fit the series, they were excellent compositions. No matter how talented Jiang Yu was, if the music didn’t fit the story, it was useless!

Liu Wenwei found himself agreeing. A theme song was not the same as composing a standalone piece; its compatibility with the drama was crucial. But Sun Tao’s asking price was just too high.

“Xiaoyu, why don’t we discuss this a bit later?” Liu Wenwei still didn’t want to lose Sun Tao.

“Director Liu, why don’t we listen to a sample first?” Su Muyu suggested.

“All right, let’s hear it then.” Liu Wenwei fell silent, but Sun Tao immediately spoke up.

But Su Muyu glanced at him. “Mr. Sun, I’m afraid I can’t let you hear the song for now.”

Liu Wenwei didn’t mind, since he wasn’t very knowledgeable about music, but Sun Tao was different—he was a professional. Remembering a melody was child’s play for him. This piece was newly written by Jiang Yu, and if Sun Tao stole it, that would be troublesome.

In this industry, anything was possible, so Su Muyu chose to be cautious.

“You—!” Sun Tao pointed at Su Muyu. Of course he understood what she meant, but given Su Muyu’s position, there was nothing he could say.

“Fine, Director Liu, you listen to it yourself. But let me make it clear, my offer of five million plus five percent of the profits is not negotiable!”

With that, he strode toward the door.

“Wait, Mr. Sun, please, let’s talk this over!” Liu Wenwei tried to catch up, but Sun Tao was already gone.

“Oh dear, young lady, what am I supposed to do now? I could still negotiate with Sun Tao, but look at this—what now?” Liu Wenwei was on good terms with Su Muyu, but with the drama’s release at stake, he was growing anxious.

Su Muyu smiled gently. “Director Liu, don’t worry. Just listen to the song—you’ll understand.”

As she spoke, she played the demo.

The moment Liu Wenwei heard the music, he was instantly captivated by its grand, magnificent background. His eyes grew brighter with each note.

Perfect—simply perfect! He couldn’t imagine a more suitable theme song for his series.

But just then, the music abruptly stopped.

Clearly, Su Muyu had turned it off.

“Why did you stop? Play it again!” Liu Wenwei urged in a panic.

Seeing Su Muyu’s smiling expression, he understood her meaning.

“Let’s talk,” he said.

With just the two of them in the room, free of restraint, Liu Wenwei spoke directly.

“How much do you want?”

The song was too perfect; he was determined to get it no matter the cost.

“Director Liu, we’ve known each other for quite some time. I’ll give you a straightforward price—the same as Sun Tao’s: one million plus three percent of the profits.”

“Deal.” Liu Wenwei gritted his teeth. Since Su Muyu had heard Sun Tao’s terms, her price was never going to be low.

But Su Muyu wasn’t finished.

“There’s one more condition: the copyright remains with us.”

“Of course,” Liu Wenwei said with a pang of regret. Spending so much money for only the usage rights—but there was no other way. The drama was about to air. Any further delay would only increase losses, and besides, Sun Tao might not be able to compose something of this caliber.

“Last condition: since Jiang Yu wrote the song, he should be the one to sing it.”

Liu Wenwei considered this. The voice in the demo was indeed impressive, and he had another reason for wanting the song. Jiang Yu was currently much more popular than Sun Tao, which would be great for promoting the drama and would save a lot on publicity expenses.

“Agreed! But I have one condition too: Jiang Yu must help promote the song himself—at the very least, post about it on Weibo.”

“Director Liu, you’re quite the businessman,” Su Muyu said with a playful look. “But I can’t make that decision; we’ll have to ask him.”

“No problem, we can talk about that later.” Liu Wenwei remained calm. “Just have him come record the song as soon as possible—time is running out!”

“All right.” Su Muyu smiled. “I’ll call him right now and have him come over.”

The two of them walked out.

Standing by the door, Sun Tao wore an air of arrogance. “Well? Didn’t work out, did it?”

Su Muyu almost burst out laughing at his haughty demeanor.

Liu Wenwei, meanwhile, was seething inside but didn’t let it show. “Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Sun. We’ve already chosen the song for this project, but I hope we’ll have another chance to work together. Don’t worry—we’ll cover your flight.”

Hearing this, Sun Tao felt a chill in his heart.

Lately, he’d been in a foul mood. His longtime top spot in martial arts dramas had been overtaken by a novel called “Everlasting Immortal.”

Later, Liu Wenwei had invited him to write the theme song.

He’d thought he could clear his mind and make some money at the same time.

He never expected that a project he thought was in the bag would be snatched away like this!

“Jiang Yu!” His expression was exceedingly grim as he silently repeated the name.

“Director Liu, you’ve got some nerve. I’ll take my leave then!”

With those words, he shot a resentful look at Su Muyu, turned on his heel, and left.