A bus full of the character of the times slowly pulled out of the railway station, crammed with people dragging heavy bags of all sizes.
Zhou Ziheng squeezed his way into the carriage.
"Fares, get your fares!" the conductress shouted with practiced efficiency as she struggled to weave through the crowd.
Zhou Ziheng fished out a ten-cent coin, handed it to her, and took his ticket.
Vehicles were still not very numerous in Yangcheng during this period.
Yet traffic posed a major problem all the same.
Most people had little concept of traffic rules; whenever there was an intersection, people would invariably thread their way right across the middle of the street, bringing the buses to a crawl.
The linear distance from the Yangcheng Railway Station to Nonglin Lower Road was a mere six or seven kilometers, yet the journey took a full half-hour.
Station reached, time to get off!
With his guitar slung across his back, Zhou Ziheng walked toward his usual spot for performing.
Every street musician who had spent a long time performing outdoors developed their own set of criteria for picking a location.
Nonglin Lower Road was not the most bustling commercial district in Guangzhou at this time—the wildly famous Yangcheng Wangfujin Department Store of later years had not yet opened here, so Nonglin Lower Road could only be considered average among Guangzhou's many commercial streets.
Even so, it possessed one advantage that Zhou Ziheng valued highly.
It was not too far from the Guangdong Radio and Television Station, and Botong 100, Yangcheng's largest entertainment cabaret, was right nearby on Sanyu Road.
This meant that famous musicians from Hong Kong and Taiwan as well as Mainland China frequently came here to spend their leisure time.
It drew a large crowd of street singers who performed here in hopes of attracting attention.
And consequently, because so many street musicians gathered here, the psychological stimulation of the crowd meant passersby were usually accustomed to tipping.
Yes, Zhou Ziheng was here specifically for the tips.
Making money! He wasn't stealing or snatching; he was earning it through his own skill, and there was no shame in that.
Arriving at his spot, he found it was the weekend, so there were considerably more pedestrians than usual, along with a number of tourists who were obviously from Hong Kong and Taiwan.
In recent years, as the spring breeze of the Mainland's reform and opening up swept across the land, the Mainland economy was growing at breakneck speed, drawing a massive influx of outside investors and tourists alike.
As the premier coastal city in the Mainland, Yangcheng naturally became the primary destination for these people.
Zhou Ziheng set down his tip box, tuned his guitar, and began to play and sing.
"The wandering soul far away misses you,"
"Dear Mother."
"My wandering footsteps have roamed the ends of the earth,"
"Without a home."
"The winter wind mixed with snowflakes,"
"Brings my tears down."
As the guitar intro, tinged with a faint sorrow, rang out, it instantly caught the attention of many passersby.
When Zhou Ziheng's clean voice drifted out, it immediately captivated those who had never heard this song before, making them unable to help stopping in their tracks and gazing at Zhou Ziheng.
"The wandering soul far away misses you,"
"Dear Mother."
"My wandering footsteps have roamed the ends of the earth,"
"Without a home."
The lyrics of "Wandering Song" were very simple, and the tune and melody were also quite brief, consisting of just a few notes.
Yet despite such simple words and melody, it reduced everyone gathered around to silence.
Moreover, Zhou Ziheng noticed that as his singing continued, more and more people gathered around him.
Before long, the open space was completely packed with people.
Each and every one of them listened to Zhou Ziheng's performance with rapt attention.
From time to time, moved in their hearts, someone would toss renminbi into the box in front of him.
Every time someone tipped, Zhou Ziheng would bow slightly in gratitude.
The song soon ended, and Zhou Ziheng stopped playing.
"Thank you! Thank you all for your support! Thank you!"
Bowing to the crowd once more, Zhou Ziheng finally took a closer look at his surroundings.
He didn't realize until he looked, and what he saw startled him.
Unwittingly, more than twenty people had gathered around him.
"My friend, whose new song is this?"
Amidst the crowd, a chubby man with a full beard, also carrying a guitar, tossed a banknote into the box and asked.
From his appearance, Zhou Ziheng knew he was a fellow musician, but he didn't mind at all and replied directly:
"It's a song I wrote myself! It's called 'Wandering Song'."
Upon hearing this, the bearded chubby man wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"Such an emotional song; it made me think of my parents!"
With that, he extended his hand toward Zhou Ziheng. "My name is Huofeng. Just like you, I'm a singer. I've even given myself a stage name: Huofeng!"
Hearing him claim to be a singer didn't surprise Zhou Ziheng at all.
None of the street musicians, including Zhou Ziheng himself, ever called themselves street singers when introducing themselves to others; they all labeled themselves simply as singers.
Yet the name Huofeng made Zhou Ziheng unable to resist taking a closer look at the chubby fellow in front of him.
He had a full beard and short hair, and truth be told, the guy wasn't really fat—he was built solidly.
Looking closer still, he really did bear a resemblance to that Huofeng who sang "Big Flowered Sedan Chair".
Knowing that the man would become a famous singer in the future, Zhou Ziheng didn't make a fuss.
At a time when most future famous singers were still lying low in obscurity, running into a future mega-star was simply too easy.
If nothing else, wasn't Li Chunbo at the same cabaret as him, with both of them currently on the same level?
Therefore, Zhou Ziheng wasn't too surprised to meet Huofeng, especially since the guy seemed even more down on his luck.
He merely reached out a hand. "My name is Zhou Ziheng. You can call me Zai Zai, Ah Heng, or Ziheng—any of them is fine!"
"Zai Zai!" Huofeng called out.
Then, rubbing the back of his head, he said rather awkwardly:
"I've just arrived in Yangcheng, and my financial situation is really poor. Not many people ever tip when I sing.
I was wondering... I was wondering if you'd allow me to sing this song of yours?"
Seeming to feel his request was somewhat presumptuous, he added hastily, "Don't worry, whenever I sing it, I'll tell everyone that you're the original creator of the song!"
Zhou Ziheng was currently picking up the coins and paper money that passersby had tossed outside the box and putting them back in.
Hearing this, he looked back at Huofeng.
Huofeng wore an earnest expression, a trace of eager anticipation in his eyes.
After a moment of silent thought, Zhou Ziheng nodded. "Sure, you can perform this song!"
Zhou Ziheng wasn't worried about Huofeng usurping his credit as the original creator.
The reason he chose "Wandering Song" as his very first song after his rebirth, aside from the fact that it was an absolute powerhouse of a track for this era, was another reason: the song closely mirrored the experiences of the body he now inhabited.
With those life experiences, coupled with his musical knowledge, he had already written a perfect preliminary draft of the creation.
He had sealed this draft and mailed it to himself by registered post.
With this draft in hand, naturally he had no fear of anyone plagiarizing him.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Hearing Zhou Ziheng agree to let him perform the song on the street, Huofeng was instantly thrilled and showered him with endless thanks.
Zhou Ziheng waved a hand, picked up his guitar, and resumed his performance.
Huofeng, beaming with joy, slung his guitar over his back and headed down to another street.
"Wandering Song" might be considered rustic—a song viewed by people as uncouth, much like "Xiaofang".
Yet it was also the song most capable of striking straight at the human heart.
How many migrant workers were there in Yangcheng?
Could they not be considered wandering souls?
They certainly were; every single one of them was a wanderer who had left their hometowns behind, strangers in a strange land.
When Chen Xing later used this song to sweep across the length and breadth of the country, becoming the generation's "Emperor of Migrant Workers" and touching countless people stranded far from home, Zhou Ziheng—a professional music school graduate of later times with a superior vocal instrument—could naturally do the same.
All afternoon, Zhou Ziheng sang no other songs; he performed only this "Wandering Song".
The tips he reaped, however, were a world apart from before.
Though it was still two hours, the original owner's performances in the past could harvest at most twenty yuan, but today, Zhou Ziheng's earnings were roughly three times greater than usual.
Counting them up, scattered small change and all, today's haul came to fifty-five yuan and thirty cents.
It was almost equivalent to his appearance fee for an entire evening at the Friendship Salon Cabaret; excluding flower garlands and other tips from patrons, his standard fee for a night at the cabaret was only fifty yuan.
And now, by singing on the roadside for less than two hours—without even having to pander to wealthy older women—he could make this much.
If he didn't know that such a windfall couldn't last and that street performances had no future, he would have been tempted to quit his residency at the cabaret right then and there.
"Hold on a second!"
Having gathered up his money, Zhou Ziheng was just about to leave when a few men blocked his path.
"What's the meaning of this? A mugging?"
Frowning, Zhou Ziheng slid out the pocket knife he carried with him and fixed his gaze on the middle-aged man before him.
Although the man's attire didn't look like that of a mugger,
one could never be sure about such things.
In this era, hoodlums of every stripe could be found all over the country.
Street singers like Zhou Ziheng were prime targets for harassment by local thugs.
They might step up during a performance to demand protection money, or simply swoop in and rob your earnings the moment you finished.
To avoid being bullied, the original owner had bought a dagger and carried it with him every day.
After crossing over, Zhou Ziheng had inherited the man's disposition and naturally kept the dagger on him as well.
Of course, he wasn't an idiot; most of the time, the item was just used for intimidation, and he wasn't actually going to go stabbing people with it.
Usually, if it scared the other party off, well and good; if the opposition came in force and weren't intimidated, he would simply choose to run.
"Brother, don't misunderstand, we mean no harm!"
Startled upon seeing the dagger, the middle-aged man hastily explained:
"I don't mean anything by it; I just have a few things I'd like to talk to you about."
Hearing this, Zhou Ziheng relaxed slightly and put away the dagger he had been using for intimidation.
"My friend, I was listening just now, and your singing is fantastic, first-rate in its emotional pull. To ask a presumptuous question, do you have a resident gig at any cabaret?
If not, based solely on that song you just sang, I think you're qualified to come to our Botong 100." Seeing that Zhou Ziheng was no longer on guard, the middle-aged man broke into a smile.
At the mention of Botong 100, Zhou Ziheng couldn't help but be taken aback.
He hadn't expected the other man to be from Botong 100.
To people of later generations, the name Botong 100 might be rarely known.
But in this era—and to Zhou Ziheng, who had studied the history of the development of Mainland popular music back in school during his previous life—the name Botong 100 Cabaret was legendary.
In the Mainland of the 1980s and 90s, if galas and the Young Singer Grand Prix were the only avenues for entering the mainstream stage, then cabarets were the premier venues for grassroots talents to shine and thrive.
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, countless cabarets of all sizes sprang up in Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, the three pioneer cities of reform.
Among them, the names of certain cabarets echoed far and wide.
In Beijing, the "Big Four" cabarets were the Taiwan Hotel, the Wangfu Hotel, the Peace House, and the Grand Tycoon.
Shanghai had "JJ".
Guangdong had "Botong 100".
These cabarets were not only the top-tier entertainment venues in the Mainland at the time, but their interiors could also be described as crouching tigers and hidden dragons.
Take this very Botong 100 Cabaret.
It was located within the Dongshan Hotel, one of Yangcheng's most famous guesthouses and hotels.
This cabaret was founded by Chen Kai.
Its roster of resident singers included Yang Yuying, Mao Lin, Chen Ming, Huofeng, Na Ying, and Huang Qishan, among other figures who would leave a heavy footprint on the pop music scene.
Yes, Na Ying and Huang Qishan were also resident singers at Botong 100.
The reason these people were later able to successfully break into the Chinese music scene and achieve great results was due in no small part to the major role Botong 100 played along the way.
To mention nothing else, take Na Ying and Huang Qishan.
Back in the day, after Na Ying participated in the Young Singer Grand Prix in Beijing and won a good ranking, she became a student under Gu Jianfen.
However, Gu Jianfen seemed to favor her senior fellow apprentice Mao Amin more.
In the late eighties, a helpless Na Ying could only choose to move south to Yangcheng, becoming a member of Botong 100. Aside from her resident singing gigs, she spent her time recording cover cassettes for Pacific Audio & Video Record Company.
It wasn't until 1993 that she was discovered at Botong 100 by people from Forward Music, signed a contract, and officially entered the music industry, achieving quite good results in the ensuing years.
As for Huang Qishan, despite being hailed as a powerhouse vocalist in the future,
the reality was that she auditioned three times and failed to enter Botong 100 each time, until Na Ying made a strong recommendation to the boss Chen Kai, finally getting her accepted.
Following that, Huang Qishan served as the pillar of the stage there for half a year.
The reason it was called half a year was because six months later she married into Taiwan.
At that time, the Taiwan producer Tu Huiyuan was in Yangcheng searching for singers and took one look at the radiant Xiaoxia on stage, insisting on signing her.
He painted a wonderfully dreamy picture for her: "I write the songs, you sing them."
The scenario felt like the Condor Heroes of the vocal world, and yearning to become China's best singer, Xiaoxia agreed, abandoning Botong 100 to dash off to Taiwan.
The result was that once she went to Taiwan, not only did she fail to become a top-tier star, but she couldn't even hold onto Tu Huiyuan, ultimately returning to the Mainland around 1997 to re-sign with a company and release records.
In short, Botong 100 at this time was not only a top-tier entertainment venue, but one could also call it the cradle of Guangdong's music industry.
Because virtually all the top figures of Guangdong's future music scene came from this very place.
Zhou Ziheng never expected that he would actually catch the eye of Botong 100.
Yet, after pondering it for a moment, he chose to refuse.
"I'm very sorry! I'm currently with the Friendship Salon Cabaret, and I probably won't be able to come over to your side!"
Hearing this, the middle-aged man was visibly stunned, clearly not expecting a street singer to turn down a recruitment offer from Botong 100.
"My friend, do you perhaps not know about our Botong 100 Cabaret? We—"
"I know!" Zhou Ziheng shook his head. "How could I not know the legendary Botong 100? It's just that I truly cannot come over."
If it had been yesterday, Zhou Ziheng definitely would have agreed to jump ship or negotiated with the man about performing at both cabarets back and forth.
But this morning's reminder from Li Chunbo led Zhou Ziheng to choose to give up going to Botong 100.
Zhou Ziheng had immense confidence in "Wandering Song".
Though rustic, the melody was sufficiently bewitching; as long as the people from China Record weren't utterly clueless about the market, the chances of him signing were quite high.
And as long as he could impress China Record, he believed his future would be completely different.
After all, the most attractive thing about Botong 100 was actually the ability to showcase oneself through that platform and let record companies see you.
Furthermore, Zhou Ziheng knew that the head of the planning department at China Record was Chen Xiaoqi.
That man was the greatest supporter of Botong 100.
Most of the songs sung by artists coming out of Botong 100 were actually written and composed by him.
Just as the elder Mr. James Wong from Hong Kong had said, "The Mainland has Chen Xiaoqi, so it has no need for me."
He could be said to be the single biggest driving force behind Mainland popular music in the nineties.
Since he could reach the biggest promoter of Botong through his performance tonight, why on earth should he go far afield to Botong 100 itself?
Therefore, he chose to turn down Botong 100.
As for the possibility that his songs wouldn't be appreciated tonight—
Then Zhou Ziheng would have even less reason to go to Botong 100.
After all, if he couldn't impress them tonight, it was clearly unlikely he would do so later on.
Ah, there was still one reason that could have induced him to go: since Botong 100 was so famous, naturally its appearance fees were also high.
If Zhou Ziheng went there, he could earn several hundred yuan more every day.
But to Zhou Ziheng, that held no significance whatsoever.
Rather than muddling along like that, he might as well head straight to Hong Kong and Taiwan to try his luck, or failing that, go to Japan; his English and Japanese were both decent anyway.
"What a pity then! I figured that if you sang this song at Botong, it would definitely be loved by many people—what a shame! Since you can't come to Botong, then so be it. Wishing you a long-running career in song." The middle-aged man sounded somewhat regretful.
Yet he clearly wasn't the type to persistently pester people; seeing that Zhou Ziheng had no intention of going to Botong, he pressed the matter no further.
Before leaving, however, he still left Zhou Ziheng a name card, telling him that if he ever wanted to go to Botong, he could give him a call.