Chapter Thirty-Four: Defeating Shouzhou in an Instant

One hundred thousand copies—a neat, impressive figure to most outsiders, little more than a talking point. But for BEING, and for Masayuki Nagato in particular, it was nothing short of a shock. As the decision-maker, he had known the initial shipment would be a hundred thousand units. That meant that in just the first week, Ye Zhao’s new single had sold out everywhere. What’s more, music stores across the country were sending faxes urgently requesting restocks, and BEING could only ask the pressing plants to work overtime, dispatching each new batch overnight to record shops nationwide.

Nagato’s misjudgment of Ye Zhao’s appeal had cost him the coveted first-week number-one spot, but it had also inadvertently sparked a wave of hunger marketing. Unable to buy the single, fans began flooding radio stations with requests for “Rainbow,” much as they had done during the “Summer Colors” craze. Even the B-side, “Because You’re By My Side,” became a karaoke favorite thanks to its delicate lyrics and catchy, singable melody.

...

Since April this year, YUKI had been hosting a radio program on RB Broadcasting, “ALL NIGHT NIPPON.” Compared to a television show, hosting a radio program might seem insignificant, yet radio had an advantage TV could never match: constant, intimate interaction with listeners, giving people a sense of being part of something together.

Ten minutes before the live broadcast, staff did a final check on the headphones and microphone—everything was in order. YUKI sat in the studio, quietly waiting for the show to begin.

At last, through the soundproof glass, the staff counted down with their fingers: three, two, one—on air!

YUKI switched on the equipment and, brimming with energy, began, “Good evening, this is YUKI! Welcome to tonight’s ‘ALL NIGHT NIPPON.’ We have a very special guest tonight—let’s welcome Princess Princess’s guitarist, Ms. Kanako Nakayama!”

“Hello, everyone, I’m Kanako Nakayama, guitarist of Princess Princess. I’m delighted to be here,” came Kanako’s gentle voice through the microphone. Princess Princess, an all-female band founded in 1986, is the most successful girl group in RB’s pop music history, once holding both first and second place on the annual ORICON singles chart. Their single “M” is a classic, engraved in the annals of music. Unlike those showy girl bands who rely on producers to write their songs and can barely play their instruments, this was a bona fide rock band: all lyrics and music were written by the members themselves, every instrument masterfully played.

...

“At that time, we were not famous at all,” Kanako reminisced about the strict customs of the 1980s entertainment world. “Even when we rehearsed backstage before a show, the senior artists would complain about the noise, so we didn’t dare play out loud.”

“So strict!” YUKI exclaimed in surprise. “Speaking of which, our guitarist, TAKUYA, spends every spare moment in the green room strumming his guitar. If any of us complain, he gets furious and insists, ‘You don’t understand—this is art!’”

Kanako laughed.

...

“Let’s look at our next letter, from a listener in Mie Prefecture, pen name ‘Tanaka Kanata.’ ‘Dear Miss YUKI, my boyfriend and I broke up not long ago. I’m in a lot of pain and can’t forget him. What should I do?’”

“What should she do? I’m terrible at relationship advice. Kanako, what do you think?”

“Well,” Kanako replied, “if you really can’t forget him, just go and win him back. Swallowing your pride isn’t shameful.”

“Exactly! If you really like him, nothing wrong with getting back together. But before that, you should think carefully: what happens after you reconcile? After all, the issues that broke you up in the first place won’t just disappear.”

“You say you’re bad at love advice, yet you’re making perfect sense,” Kanako teased.

“Kanako-senpai, you’re not supposed to call me out like that,” YUKI joked, steering the conversation onward. “Now, let’s move on to tonight’s song request segment. Today’s featured track is Ye Zhao’s new single, ‘Rainbow.’”

“Ye Zhao, huh,” Kanako mused. “‘Summer Colors’ sold over seven hundred thousand copies, didn’t it? And now ‘Rainbow’ shot straight to third on the weekly chart. Still, he’s quite the enigma—hasn’t even appeared in public yet.”

At these words, YUKI’s thoughts drifted to that night—everything that had happened on the street, and those high-heeled shoes, one with a broken heel, still carefully stored away in their box.

Kanako continued, “Judging from the new single’s cover, he looks like a handsome guy. I wonder what his personality is like?”

“He’s... a gentle person, I think,” YUKI replied with a smile. “Let’s listen together to Ye Zhao’s ‘Rainbow.’” With that, she switched off the mic and let the sound of the guitar fill her headphones.

...

The Folk Music Club at Aoyama Gakuin University had a long history. Back in his student days, Keisuke Kuwata had met like-minded friends there, eventually forming the legendary band Southern All Stars. Because of Southern All Stars, many people entered Aoyama Gakuin with a sense of reverence, hoping to join the club their idol once belonged to.

Friday afternoon was the club’s regular gathering time. At five minutes to four, Yuya Kudo arrived at the club’s activity room. The spacious room was already filling up. Spotting Yuya, a few close friends pointed toward a corner, making exaggerated, knowing faces.

Following their gaze, Yuya saw Yuki Ueda sitting alone by a stack of wooden crates, cradling an acoustic guitar. Smiling, he walked over. “Ueda!”

Yuki removed one of her earphones and waved. “Kudo.”

“Listening to music?”

“Yes, Ye Zhao’s ‘Rainbow.’” She picked up the single’s case and showed it to him.

Yuya sat down beside her. “I never expected him to join BEING, especially since he’s so good at folk music. Maybe he’ll gradually transition into rock?”

Yuya had never told anyone about giving up his copy of ‘Summer Colors’ to Keisuke Kuwata’s manager at the record shop. After ‘Summer Colors’ became a hit, he thought Ye Zhao would surely be signed by Kuwata’s label. Instead, BEING made the first announcement.

“If Ye Zhao switches to rock, will you stop listening?” Yuki countered.

Yuya shook his head. “Of course not. Music is universal. As long as he keeps making good music, I’ll always support him.”

“Well said.” Yuki gave the guitar body a light tap in place of applause. “By the way, I have a suggestion. Would you consider it?”

“What suggestion?”

“To start an official Ye Zhao fan club.” She looked at Yuya expectantly.

...

Later, when Ye Zhao reflected on his career, he often called Aoyama Gakuin his “lucky land.” It wasn’t just that his rise to fame began with a recommendation from Keisuke Kuwata, an alumnus, but also that his official fan club was first founded by two Aoyama Gakuin students—a young man and woman brought together by his music, who eventually married. Their story became a beloved legend among fans.

With pressing plants working overtime to meet demand, “Rainbow” finally had a steady supply and exploded in its second week. Even in later years, when record sales would plummet, it would go on to sell over nine hundred thousand copies; now, in the golden era of the CD—1994—he was confident, especially with the buzz of being a “hot underground act’s debut single” and the track’s tie-in with a popular sports drink commercial. He was sure this release would not fall short of Fukuyama Masaharu’s best numbers from his previous life.

There were no major rivals in the second week, so the real battle on the charts became a sudden-death match between SMAP, T-BOLAN, and Ye Zhao. On September 14, the ORICON daily singles chart was released. Ye Zhao’s “Rainbow” sold 102,000 copies, edging out SMAP for the top spot.

Normally, sales decline each week after a release. Though this wasn’t yet the era when 70% or more of all sales happened in the first week, it was rare for a single’s second-week first-day sales to outstrip the entire first week. Such a surge could only mean one of two things: either the first week’s sales were abysmal, or the single was about to become a smash hit.

Sure enough, from that day on, Ye Zhao once again displayed his uncanny comeback ability. The new single sold over a hundred thousand copies each day for three days straight, holding the daily chart’s top position and locking in the weekly title in advance—over three hundred thousand copies sold; even if not a single additional copy moved in the following days, the championship was guaranteed.

The new week passed quickly. On Tuesday morning, Ye Zhao arrived at BEING headquarters. With the weekly number-one already in the bag, he was only curious about the exact sales figures. In the office, a young, beautiful staff member eagerly brought him a cup of coffee. Ye Zhao took the weekly sales chart from a staff member, eyes immediately drawn to the very top.

“Rainbow” had sold 560,000 copies that week, taking the weekly number-one with an overwhelming lead.

The runaway success of “Rainbow” silenced the media’s earlier doubts about Ye Zhao. The music magazine “CDDATA,” which had once lavishly praised “Summer Colors,” published another feature on Ye Zhao. The writer stated bluntly: “The most important significance of ‘Rainbow’’s success isn’t in breaking records or claiming some spot on the year-end chart. It’s that it announces to the world: Ye Zhao is not a one-hit wonder who succeeded by sheer dumb luck. He can consistently deliver high-quality music. This is his greatest asset in carving out a place for himself in the fiercely competitive music scene.”

Amidst this rising tide, Ye Zhao finally received an invitation to appear on “MUSIC STATION.”