Chapter 117: The Beginning of an Era

Liu Bin graduated from the Composition Department of the 1995 class at the Central Conservatory of Music. With over a decade of experience, he stands as a core figure in contemporary popular music. Serving as both the Chief Music Editor and Operations Director of one of the country’s top three music websites, he holds significant influence and carries considerable weight within the industry.

He was the music producer and supervisor for the legendary singer Zhang Xueyu’s third album, *The Deep Longing of the Piano*. Naturally, his level of musical appreciation is on par with Hao Yifeng, another respected figure.

Yet, as an industry insider who deeply understands the essence of composition, Liu Bin could truly grasp the extraordinary uniqueness of the four songs by Jie’s *Poison*. Upon first reading the lyrics, he was stunned. He thought, “What is this?” and immediately listened to the songs ten times in a row. On one hand, he marveled at how lyrics could be written in such a way; on the other, he was amazed by the seamless integration between words and melody. Most strikingly, Liu Bin found it hard to believe that such sharp, incisive lyrics and melodies could be the work of a single individual. This not only required an exceptionally high musical literacy but also a literary cultivation to match; moreover, the combination of both produced a chemical reaction, making the effect of these songs greater than the sum of their parts. As for other peculiarities of *Poison*, such as his somewhat unclear enunciation, that was a deliberate choice to serve the rhythm, because the Chinese language lacks the elasticity of English.

*Poison’s* compositions bear traces of jazz but are entirely different from it. Liu Bin tried playing some of *Poison's* pieces on the piano but ended up in a complete mess. His music follows no pattern at all—it's pure genius sparked by whimsical creativity. The melodies are like the elusive antelope horns, leaving no trace to follow, yet they are incredibly pleasant and captivating to the ear.

The difficulty in *Poison’s* music does not lie in the high notes or the melody, but in the rhythm. His bizarre and genius rhythms give the Chinese vocal style a new mode of expression. This is not a school or style one can imitate or learn; it must be created from one’s own genius.

Liu Bin carefully counted the beats in these songs. They are neither jazz, rock, nor folk. Such rhythms have never appeared before in the history of music; they belong entirely to *Poison* himself.

Furthermore, *Poison’s* music grows richer with each listen, allowing for repeated, meticulous tasting. Every time brings a new feeling.

In contrast, Chinese popular music shows little respect for melody. Even their instruments are mostly foreign imports. Most contemporary Chinese pop compositions and arrangements are adaptations of Japanese music styles. (Looking back at Hong Kong’s music scene from the 1980s to the early 2000s, during which Taiwan had only a few outstanding talents like Luo Dayou and Li Zongsheng—whose creative prowess overshadowed Hong Kong by miles, though Hong Kong surpassed Taiwan in packaging and marketing.) There is very little truly original content, which pains Liu Bin deeply as a Chinese musician.

Though Liu Bin cannot yet predict *Poison’s* future heights, these four songs alone surpass the Chinese music scene by at least a decade. As long as *Poison* maintains this level of creativity, leading the Chinese music world will be a matter of time.

Chen Lihong, another chief editor at the music website, shared the same sentiment. Although the site lacks its own artist department and distribution channels, they are willing to build these specifically for *Poison*.

They fully understand what it means for a musician with the power to found a new school—a complete industrial chain. The frenzy of several hours of streaming has already proven his value. With five yuan per stream, nearly 1.5 million streams of four songs equate to roughly 7.5 million yuan in just a few hours.

Of course, this cannot be seen as long-term data, but the value of these songs is undeniable. This single-track revenue rate is on par with that of popular stars. How could the music site not be anxious or care deeply about *Poison*?

However, when Liu Bin called *Poison* on behalf of the site, the response was a cold, indifferent “Oh.” When offered a generous signing contract, *Poison* remained unmoved, dousing Liu Bin’s enthusiasm like a bucket of cold water. Cautiously, Liu Bin asked if *Poison* had already signed with another label. His heart trembled as if a beloved woman were being taken away.

When the answer was no, the heavy weight on his chest finally lifted. Liu Bin decisively proposed a face-to-face meeting, assuring that any terms could be discussed if *Poison* was willing to cooperate. He was practically pouring out his heart in earnest.

Still, *Poison*’s tone on the phone remained nonchalant: “Oh. I have a class now. I’ll contact you after school,” and then hung up.

Pacing back and forth in his office, Liu Bin felt history unfolding right before him—yet he couldn’t grasp it. After much thought, he checked the phone number’s location and decided to rush straight to *Poison*’s city. Opportunities, after all, favor the prepared—and one must strive to seize them.

The flight from Yangcheng to S lasts only two hours, but Liu Bin suffered torturous anxiety on the plane. Years later, he would still recall that moment vividly. In a later interview, he said, “At that time, the company hadn’t yet decided to spare no expense to sign *Poison*. I even paid for the plane ticket myself. I just wanted to see him and talk about his music, even if we couldn’t sign a deal. I felt like my ancestor Liu Bei visiting Zhuge Liang three times. Of course, that’s not a perfect analogy, but from a record company’s perspective, whoever signs *Poison* will dominate the world. History has proven I was right.”

Upon landing, Liu Bin immediately called *Poison* and let out a sigh of relief when he confirmed he was indeed in city S. He promptly requested a meeting and mentioned that he had just rushed over from Yangcheng. Apparently moved by his sincerity, *Poison* agreed to meet at a café called “Balcony Under the Moonlight” near Fudan University.

Taking a taxi to Fudan, Liu Bin finally found the corner café nestled between Fudan University and Fudan High School. He carried a briefcase, his hair slightly disheveled, wearing a summer suit with a loosely knotted tie and dusty shoes—an unthinkable state for his normally meticulous self.

When he saw a fair-skinned, ordinary-looking chubby man with a few teenage pimples sitting under the café’s sunshade, he knew this was *Poison*. The feeling was akin to love at first sight. He could clearly see the man’s slender fingers, large and long palms, nails impeccably trimmed—hands that played the piano. His eyes, while not large, were long and exceptionally lively, with slightly sunken sockets that gave them a profound depth.

Without hesitation, Liu Bin approached and asked, “Are you Jie’s *Poison*?”

The man showed no surprise and nodded faintly. Although Liu Bin felt more like a salesman at that moment, he steadied himself and launched into his questions: “The arrangement of ‘In the Name of the Father’ begins with a 96-second prelude featuring background prayers, gunshots, and exaggerated Italian opera to set the musical atmosphere. How did you come up with that? And the spoken-singing style—where did that idea come from? Did you arrange everything yourself?” It seemed Liu Bin wanted to get all his inquiries out in one breath.

(Thanks to Yemu Feng, Heavy Solitude, Black Street Maple, Shibao Died, and others for their support. Another chapter follows shortly.)