Chapter 49: A Surprising Snack

"Pfft... hahaha!" This time, Sun Yanzhen was truly amused by Hu Yan's joke, unable to hold back. The rice she was chewing flew out of her mouth, nearly spraying onto Huang Guolun.

Wiping the grains of rice from her lips, Sun Yanzhen laughed and apologized to Huang Guolun, "Sorry, sorry, Teacher Huang. Teacher Hu's joke was just too funny, made me lose my composure."

Huang Guolun laughed along as well; it was rare for Hu Yan to tell such a genuinely funny story.

Seeing Sun Yanzhen in such high spirits, Hu Yan sipped his tea and continued energetically, "Let me tell you another one, it's hilarious too. It's a story from 'Water Margin' I shared with my students this morning."

Sun Yanzhen responded with delight, "Great, I love stories from 'Water Margin.'"

Hu Yan launched straight into his tale, "So, one day, the monk Lu Zhishen happened upon Shi Jin, the Nine-Patterned Dragon, at Liangshan and asked him, 'Shi, have you eaten yet?' Shi Jin, furious, kicked Lu Zhishen and shouted, 'Eat shit yourself!' Lu Zhishen stood up, dusted himself off, and looked puzzled, 'Shi Jin, what's wrong with you?' Shi Jin stepped back several meters, took a running start, and roared, 'Damn it, you told me to go all out!... Hey!'"

"Hahaha."

Sun Yanzhen laughed heartily again, not at all bothered that Hu Yan was telling a story about excrement during a meal.

Hu Yan noticed how cheerful Sun Yanzhen was today and wanted to tell another.

Sun Yanzhen quickly stopped him, "Teacher Hu, don't tell any more—please eat your meal. Let Teacher Huang tell us one."

She glanced at Huang Guolun, "You've been listening for ages. Give us a joke, you can't just take in and not give out."

Having heard too many jokes from Huang Tao, Huang Guolun had grown somewhat resistant to humor and protested, "I can't tell jokes."

"How could that be? Your son tells jokes so well; just share one he told you," Sun Yanzhen persisted.

"Alright... I'll tell one, but it's a bit lame. My son told me this."

Sun Yanzhen was full of anticipation, even pausing her meal to eagerly await Huang Guolun's joke.

Huang Guolun, after slowly chewing and swallowing his food, began in a deliberate manner, "It's a short story: A man is receiving an IV drip in the hospital. Suddenly he starts laughing uncontrollably. Someone asks him why he's laughing. He replies, 'I'm laughing at the drip.'"

"That's it?" Sun Yanzhen asked, surprised.

"That's it. Isn't it funny? I think it's pretty amusing."

Sun Yanzhen shivered from the coldness of the joke, casting a contemptuous look at Huang Guolun, "Your sense of humor is really low!"

Hu Yan, seeing he had outshone Huang Guolun, was in high spirits and happily resumed eating.

He failed to notice Sun Yanzhen secretly kicking Huang Guolun under the table and giving him a reproachful glare.

That kick and the glare were surely what those single male teachers dreamed of.

That night,

Huang Guolun took Bai Yao back to Purple Star Mansion to continue recording.

Without Huang Tao dragging them down, their work efficiency improved dramatically.

Actually, Huang Guolun had already produced a fairly polished demo of Bai Yao's recording and sent it to Huang Guokun, who had been hounding him like a grim reaper.

After listening to the roughly 90% completed demo, Huang Guokun and the creative team were very satisfied. They had already matched it to the film's ending.

Impatient as he was, Huang Guokun couldn't stand Huang Guolun's slow, meticulous approach.

He had called Huang Guolun earlier, telling him not to record any more—they would use the demo, which was already quite good.

But Huang Guolun, driven by the spirit of craftsmanship and perfectionism, wanted to record an even more perfect version.

Even if it couldn't be used in the film, it could be included in the movie's official digital soundtrack in the future.

If the film became a hit, Kunlun Culture would surely release the soundtrack album, which would be pure music, bearing Huang Guolun's name. Thus, Huang Guolun was determined to make it flawless.

Moreover, pushing Bai Yao further would greatly improve her singing skills.

So Huang Guolun kept pulling Bai Yao back to record the song.

When it came to "The Beautiful People," Bai Yao's performance was already impressive. Her uniquely husky voice was fully displayed in this song; during the climax, it would irresistibly awaken the primal wildness in people, especially when paired with the film's ending scene of the heroine's transformation—it was simply brilliant.

Yet, in Huang Guolun's eyes, Bai Yao's singing still lacked a certain spark.

Whenever she unleashed herself completely, her control over her vocal stability was not quite effortless.

She could now let her voice roam freely, but once it was out there, she was still far from mastering the singing technique needed for the frenzied climax.

Many details required Huang Guolun to polish with software.

Although he had already refined Bai Yao's song to a remarkable level, his highly discerning musical ear still hoped Bai Yao could provide an even better raw vocal, so that after his polishing, the song would be even more powerful and moving.

That night, the two toiled until late.

It was nearly midnight when they finally called it a night.

Afterwards, they stayed at Purple Star Mansion.

Early the next morning, at around six, Huang Guolun was awakened by his biological clock.

Bai Yao, dedicated to her work, didn’t sleep in either—she woke up before eight.

Upon waking, Bai Yao realized her voice had become hoarse again from overexertion.

This situation surprised Huang Guolun.

Although repeatedly singing "The Beautiful People" was taxing on the vocal cords, he had instructed Bai Yao to use the most scientific vocal techniques and always allowed ample time between recording sessions for her to recover. By rights, this workload shouldn't have made her voice so exhausted.

He had previously noticed that Bai Yao’s vocal cords seemed more "fragile" than he expected—any slight fatigue would leave her hoarse the next day.

At first, he thought it was because her vocal technique was amateurish, straining her voice too much.

But now, seeing how little endurance her vocal cords had, he realized it wasn't just a matter of technique.

It was a congenital issue—her vocal cords simply couldn't handle high-intensity strain.

Bai Yao, seeing her voice had failed again, felt rather guilty.

She told Huang Guolun about how her voice was damaged by a fever in elementary school.

Only then did Huang Guolun learn that Bai Yao's husky voice wasn't natural—it was the result of that childhood illness.

No wonder it was so fragile.

Such a voice, though distinctive, honestly wasn't suited for powerful songs. Too much strain could easily cause problems, even lead to loss of voice.

Realizing this serious problem, Huang Guolun immediately halted the recording of "The Beautiful People."

He decided not to have Bai Yao sing such taxing songs in the future.

If Bai Yao truly loved singing, she could use her deep, husky voice to perform jazz or Bossa Nova pieces, much like Lisa Ono or Joanna Wang.

But intense rock songs must strictly be avoided.

Huang Guolun explained this harsh reality to Bai Yao, who was somewhat shaken and very remorseful.

Like Huang Guolun, Bai Yao was a perfectionist. Whatever she did, she wanted to do it to the best of her ability; otherwise, she wouldn’t even bother.

Now, with "The Beautiful People" left unfinished, she felt a sense of disappointment at not seeing it through and pleaded with Huang Guolun, "Teacher, let's try recording a few more takes this afternoon. After we finish this song, I won't sing such rock pieces anymore."

"No more recording. Your voice is already this hoarse, what's the point? What we've recorded is already quite good. I'll polish it a bit on the computer and the song will be done."

Pulling fifty yuan out of his pocket and handing it to Bai Yao, Huang Guolun instructed, "Go buy us breakfast, something light. I'll have soy milk and fried dough sticks. You keep it light too. After breakfast, we'll go to Mr. Huang's company, sign the recording contract, and get your payment. That'll wrap up this job."

Hearing about getting paid, Bai Yao was secretly delighted, a happy smile involuntarily appearing at the corners of her mouth. "If we get the payment today, I'll treat you to lunch."

Huang Guolun laughed, "Alright, hurry up and buy breakfast."

After Bai Yao went out, Huang Guolun called Huang Guokun and arranged to meet at the company, bringing Bai Yao to settle her payment.

Regarding how much royalty and labor fee Bai Yao should receive, Huang Guolun had already told Huang Guokun not to shortchange her.

In fact, even without Huang Guolun’s warning, Huang Guokun had no intention of treating Bai Yao unfairly.

Huang Guokun already knew Bai Yao’s rather tragic background and that she was now Huang Tao’s exclusive tutor.

The family matriarch had praised Bai Yao many times in front of everyone, adored her so much that she practically wanted to treat Bai Yao as the eldest granddaughter.

Even if he didn’t care about Huang Guolun’s opinion, Huang Guokun couldn’t disregard his mother’s.

On the phone, Huang Guokun told Huang Guolun directly that the payment for this recording would be at the highest rate for a newcomer—ten thousand yuan after tax!

In the future, if a digital single or any related merchandise was released, Bai Yao would get a 10% share of the net royalties.

Huang Guolun thought ten thousand was reasonable, but 10% royalty was too low.

"Raise the royalty share to 30%, 10% is way too little—you're squeezing the singer!" Huang Guolun bargained over the phone.

"Ten percent is not low."

"How is it not? Don't think you can fool me because I don't know the business. I know nothing about movies, but when it comes to music, you can't pull the wool over my eyes."

"Who's fooling you? That's the industry standard. Besides, even if this song gets released as a single in the future, it won't make much—maybe not even tens of yuan. For musicians like you and Bai Yao, who have no fame or fanbase, who would pay for such a single? I added the 10% royalty share just for show; there won’t really be any income."

"If there’s no income, then why make it look so stingy? Wouldn’t 30% look better?"

"You just don’t understand business. No company signs such high royalties with newcomers! Sure, this time it doesn’t matter, but if we promote Bai Yao as a singer in the future, and you start her off with such high royalties, how will we negotiate future contracts? Are we supposed to sign her for 50% or even 80% royalties? The company would make nothing! Start with 10%, and raise it gradually."

"What did you say? You want to sign Bai Yao as a company singer?" Huang Guolun was surprised—he’d never heard about plans to sign Bai Yao as a singer before.