Chapter 12: The Million-Dollar Studio—This Young Man Has Something Special

Qian Jida’s efficiency was remarkably reliable.
Before they even reached the hotel, he had already made contact.
After all, he’d been in the entertainment circle for more than just a year or two; finding a music producer on short notice and borrowing a recording studio was nothing difficult for him.
In fact, their Giant Elephant Media had its own recording studios and several talented singer-songwriters.
It was just that they hadn’t set up a studio in the capital yet.
Once they arrived at the hotel and dropped off their things, they wasted no time and went straight to the address of the recording studio.
Su Mu asked, “The producer you found is... Liu Yadong?”
Qian Jida replied, “That’s right.”
Su Mu asked, “You know him?”
Qian Jida snorted, “Hmph, only you are clueless about how strong your own manager is.”
Su Mu fell silent.
He had originally thought Qian Jida would find anyone adequate, but hadn’t expected him to connect with such a big name.
In the world of music producers, Liu Yadong was practically on the same level as Director Zhang.
He was a heavyweight, a respected predecessor.
He had worked with countless singers, helping them produce albums.
His classic works were too many to list; you could find his involvement in the breakout albums of many superstar singers.
He was highly regarded in the music industry, widely acknowledged for his outstanding professional skills.
Su Mu genuinely hadn’t expected Qian Jida to have the ability to invite him.
The crucial thing was that he himself was just a pop idol whose previous singles were all formulaic, forgettable tunes—hardly worthy of Liu Yadong’s attention.
He wondered what connections Qian Jida had leveraged for this.
Nevertheless, with such resources at his disposal, he had to make the most of them.

The so-called recording studio was actually within the music label’s premises.
Perhaps because they knew Su Mu was coming, many staff members gathered around.
It wasn’t a specially arranged reception;
Mainly, Su Mu had been trending frequently online lately, and besides gossip, women generally enjoyed seeing handsome men.
Such was the privilege of being a heartthrob.
“He’s in the capital, isn’t he supposed to be auditioning for Director Zhang? Why is he suddenly recording a single with Director Liu?”
“Yeah, it’s odd. And anyway, they have their own producers—why ask Director Liu?”

“Su Mu released a single last year, but it was just a generic tune, nothing special, probably bought and paid for. Not impressive at all.”
“Right, with that level of musicality, Director Liu actually agreed?”
“That’s where you don’t get it—traffic rules the day. Su Mu’s got tons of fans.”
Many whispered among themselves.
But Su Mu and Qian Jida had already entered the recording studio.
It was a renowned label; the recording equipment was state-of-the-art, everything one could need.
Liu Yadong wasn’t very tall, dressed with a distinct sense of individuality—pure rock style, though naturally much older than Su Mu.
Upon seeing the two, he didn’t put on any airs and seemed quite familiar with Qian Jida.
“You’re here, old Qian.”
Qian Jida greeted him with a smile, then introduced, “This is Su Mu.”
Su Mu politely said, “Hello, Mr. Yadong. I’m sorry for the trouble today.”
Qian Jida had already told Su Mu beforehand that he and Liu Yadong had known each other for years and were on good terms.
Yet this was the first time Su Mu realized how wide Qian Jida’s network truly was.
Liu Yadong waved generously, “Hey, it’s nothing. I’ve known old Qian a long time. This little favor is no big deal. Use the studio as you like.”
Su Mu wasn’t especially skilled in music production,
But he’d been to quite a few studios before—control rooms, vocal booths, computers, sound cards, mixing consoles, and so on.
He glanced around briefly, feeling somewhat impressed; this entire setup must have cost over a million.
And this was just one of their more ordinary studios.
For example, the mixing console in front of Liu Yadong was a British brand, Audient 4816, quite expensive.
The sound card was Antelope, with additional rack units for reverb and mixing.
Monitoring was done with Genelec 1032C speakers, offering superb sound quality.
As for the other instruments and DW drum kits, there was no need to elaborate—these were essential to any musician.
Su Mu wasn’t a top-level vocalist, so as long as the equipment was decent, it was more than enough for him.
He was quite satisfied with the environment.
He didn’t stand on ceremony and got straight to the point.
“Mr. Yadong, the reason I came to ask for your help is to see if you can transcribe a song for me. I don’t have much musical expertise, but sometimes inspiration strikes and I try to compose. Yet it’s difficult to put it down on paper.”
Liu Yadong nodded with a smile, glancing sidelong at Qian Jida behind him.
Truth be told, he still harbored doubts.
Having known Qian Jida for years, he’d looked into Su Mu before.
His assessment was that Su Mu was a pop idol, mediocre at singing—essentially not of their musical world.

So for an outsider to come and talk about composing in front of him was like wielding a broadsword before Guan Yu.
If not for his connection with Qian Jida, Liu Yadong would not have agreed to meet.
A person with no knowledge of music theory discussing composition with a top producer—anyone witnessing this would think the man was crazy.
So Liu Yadong hadn’t taken it too seriously.
He thought, just as a favor for an old friend, help out a bit; after all, it would only take a day at most—he could endure it.
He was experienced; he’d helped other pop idols produce singles before. If not for his formidable mixing skills, some of their dreadful singing would have ended their careers on the spot.
Liu Yadong said, “Sure, transcribing is no problem. As long as you can sing it, I can write out the score and help you work on the arrangement, add some instruments and mixing.”
For a producer, these were minor tasks.
Especially for formulaic tunes, he could do them with ease, though many musicians held to their professional standards and didn’t want to churn out repetitive, mediocre works.
For Su Mu’s upcoming song, Liu Yadong assumed it would likely be one of those.
At this moment,
Su Mu took out a sheet of lyrics from his pocket.
“Mr. Yadong, here’s the title and lyrics I wrote. As for the melody, I can sing it simply for you to hear.”
Liu Yadong took the lyric sheet, glancing over it absentmindedly.
Title: Listen.
Well, a one-word title—quite rare, almost deliberately enigmatic.
These days, listeners like to find the meaning in a song’s title; at the very least, it should reflect the content of the song.
‘Listen’ was too vague, and he wasn’t a master.
Thinking this, Liu Yadong continued reading.
‘Who grinds red beans into fragrance, thread by thread’
‘Let longing spill from the cracks as rivers’
‘A startled swan enters the ear, softening the years’
‘Hear the wounds in your breathing...’
Oh?
Liu Yadong paused, stunned.
Whatever else, these lyrics had something to them…
After a long moment,
Liu Yadong abruptly looked up, “Su Mu, quick, sing the melody for me!”