Chapter Sixty-One: Cat and Mouse (2/2)

Just two days after the interview ended, on January 17th, the Kansai region was struck by a catastrophic earthquake. The city of Kobe in Hyogo Prefecture, Awaji Island, and the urban areas between Kobe and Osaka suffered immense casualties. Assets equivalent to two percent of the nation's GDP vanished in an instant, marking an unprecedented disaster for the country.

After the event, aside from the reaction from the outside world, the entertainment industry swiftly organized aid for the affected areas. In addition to singers and artists donating money or preparing relief songs, companies large and small generously contributed. Nagato Daiko, whose hometown was in Kansai, donated one hundred million yen in the name of BEING.

On Ye Zhao’s side, a donation of ten million yen was made under the name of ZYE for relief efforts.

This land has always been plagued by natural disasters. Perhaps such calamities have honed their will, granting them traits of "remarkable self-restraint and endurance," but undoubtedly, disasters have also left them living in constant fear, instilling a kind of madness in their bones—a sense that every day could be the last.

Especially after experiencing unprecedented prosperity, this disaster destroyed not only material wealth but also left an indelible scar on the nation's soul. People began to yearn for tomorrow, seeking solace in ethereal comforts. For a time, religion and uplifting works of art became widely popular.

(This topic is too sensitive, so I won’t elaborate. I originally intended not to mention it at all, but such a major event cannot be avoided.)

...

January 22nd.

It was the same café as last time, but this time, Kawanishi Naruo did not overstep his bounds; instead, he handed the menu to Ye Zhao.

The jukebox in the café was playing Yumi Matsutoya’s “I Want to Return to That Day.” Kawanishi Naruo seemed to be quite fond of Yumi Matsutoya and couldn’t help but praise, “Miss Matsutoya truly deserves her title as the queen of the music world.”

Just months ago, he had quietly schemed to nearly ruin Ye Zhao, yet now, he was casually discussing music with him. Ye Zhao forced down his discomfort and replied dryly, “I’ve heard that your company’s President Suo, just by listening, can tell whether a song will become a big hit.”

“That’s right, isn’t it remarkable?” Speaking of Suo Yutaka, Kawanishi Naruo’s expression was full of pride. From this, it was clear that Suo Yutaka was a leader with considerable personal charisma.

“Previously, I only knew that the Beatles’ manager had such ability,” Ye Zhao was referring to Brian Epstein.

This was clearly a compliment. Kawanishi Naruo smiled, “So, it’s precisely because of President Suo that BRUNING has become what it is today. Ye, back in August, I went drinking with President Suo in Toranomon. At one bar, they were playing your ‘Summer Colors.’ After listening, the president said, ‘This song will definitely become a huge hit.’”

Ye Zhao’s ears twitched, but he didn’t respond.

“Later, I made some inquiries and learned that you were performing on the streets of Shibuya. Our talent scouts listened for a few days and discovered that all your songs were high-quality originals. Afterwards, ‘Summer Colors’ became a hit just as the president predicted. We sent our company manager to try and sign you, but BEING got there first.”

“So, that’s why you sought me out at that time?” Ye Zhao asked, subtly.

Kawanishi Naruo took a sip of coffee. “Actually, although BRUNING’s breakthrough came from poaching Hiroshi Satou from J, I personally prefer to cultivate homegrown talent.”

If Ye Zhao knew more about BRUNING, he would realize that Kawanishi Naruo and another executive, Higuchi Norio, were both “development advocates” within the agency, preferring to discover talent themselves rather than poach from others.

“In other words, Mr. Kawanishi never intended to lure me away from BEING from the start?”

The right corner of Kawanishi Naruo’s mouth lifted slightly, and he continued, “Ye, in the past, popular singers mostly performed songs crafted by lyricists and composers specifically for them. As a management company, we simply followed audience tastes to launch new stars and profited wave after wave. But, always eating the same dessert leads to fatigue. As the idol era faded, this trend shifted, and more singer-songwriters emerged.”

“But at its core, whether it’s singer-songwriters or the composer-lyricist plus singer model, the essential part hasn’t changed. For example, singer-songwriters create and perform their own work, composers have others perform theirs, but what’s being sold is creativity. The composer’s avenue of sales is wider and their generated value is greater. Think—last year, Oda-san’s compositions sold thirteen million copies. If he sang them himself, could he achieve that?”

Kawanishi Naruo’s gaze was sharp and focused. Despite the café’s warmth, Ye Zhao suddenly felt a chill. Kawanishi Naruo’s intention was clear—to end Ye Zhao’s career as a performer and consign him to working behind the scenes as a cash cow!

“Mr. Kawanishi, I’m just a newcomer. What makes you value me so highly?” Ye Zhao took a sip of coffee before slowly asking.

“This goes back to the release of ‘Rainbow.’ After BEING signed you, I paid close attention to your progress. I wanted to know whether you were just a flash in the pan or could maintain that momentum. My assistant brought me your single; I thought it was a good song, but the president listened and couldn’t stop praising you. Although, it wasn’t your music he was praising.”

Kawanishi Naruo paused. “The president said your sensitivity to pop music is near perfection, that you know how to craft songs listeners love. In this regard, you’re already on par with the top producers of the moment.”

So, just for a single compliment from Suo Yutaka, Kawanishi Naruo humbled himself to deal with a newcomer like him... Is this the story of a fanboy going all out for his idol’s approval?

Ye Zhao had no interest in hearing such sentimental lines.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand. With your company’s capabilities, regarding Mika Ogawa’s situation, you could have handled it more perfectly. Why leave me a chance to recover?” Ye Zhao finally voiced his lingering question.

“The scoop on Mika Ogawa was actually a surprise. We didn’t expect that the real negatives still existed. After all, the people from Weekly Shinchou guaranteed that nothing would go wrong.”

At this, Kawanishi Naruo smiled. “Actually, even if the Mika Ogawa scoop failed, we could have found other ways to ruin your comeback. But after meeting you, I saw you had a strong personality. If I truly destroyed your career, you’d likely quit the entertainment industry rather than accept our offer.”

“Later, you managed to achieve great sales with your single despite being isolated and unsupported, and your promotional strategy was quite novel, which made me see you in a new light. I asked about your activities; your scriptwriting teacher said you were extremely diligent. If it was just out of interest, you couldn’t have gone that far. It seems you are indeed ambitious. And I’m curious—does your ambition in other fields mean you are overreaching, or do you truly possess the same sensitivity as you do in music?”

“So at that moment, I changed my mind. I suddenly wanted to try ‘cultivating’ someone outside the company and see what would happen. In fact, I’ve already shown you favor. If I hadn’t tacitly approved, at least two-thirds of the program invitations sent to you would have evaporated, not to mention being nominated for the Record Grand Prize.”