Chapter 55: Duet Between Man and Woman (Newcomer Requests Monthly Votes)

Li He watched with great attention, since he didn't understand films and found it difficult to judge their quality. But when it came to plot, that was another matter; you didn't need to know movies to evaluate the story. You just needed to look at it as a member of the audience.

After watching a few scenes, Li He's expression gradually turned strange.

He couldn't say whether the plot was good or bad, but there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity about it.

After twenty minutes, Li He finished reviewing the storyline and didn't bother with the scripts for the key scenes.

So that's why it felt so familiar... Li He mused, his thoughts odd.

The film "Guardian," produced by Flourishing Age, bore an uncanny resemblance to a movie he’d seen in his previous life called "The Great Wall."

The only difference was that one took place in a frontier fortress, the other on the border wall itself; otherwise, they were nearly identical.

In the end, the key to defeating the monsters in both films was the intervention of foreigners.

He didn't know how receptive this world was to films, but after going through the plot, Li He was certain he wouldn't spend money to see it.

Once was enough in his previous life—did he really have to endure it again?

That movie was an epic flop.

And as a side note, "Fate as a Bridge" was the end theme of "The Great Wall."

Could it be that a terrible film would once again spawn a legendary song in this world?

But that was not Li He’s concern.

After handing the folder back to Deng Qin, Li He declared firmly, “I want a share of the song royalties.”

Everyone was stunned.

The share of the box office was obviously worth more than music royalties.

“Teacher Jiabei, don’t you want to think it over?” Jiang Qi, ever the double agent, tried to persuade him.

“Seriously, Old Li, think this through—you haven’t even bought a house yet,” He Luo reminded his best friend, urging him not to pass up easy money.

Are you all just jealous of my earning ability? Li He’s attitude was resolute: “I want the music royalties.”

Though he wasn’t sure if "Guardian" would flop, Li He preferred to play it safe. He didn’t want to gamble with Flourishing Age.

Deng Qin was a little disappointed. She’d hoped to do Teacher Jiabei a big favor, and now she could not. She sighed, “Our company has invested heavily in ‘Guardian,’ even inviting a famous American associate director for guidance. It’s sure to be a hit. The box office won’t be low. Teacher Jiabei, are you sure you don’t want a share of the box office?”

“I prefer the music royalties,” Li He declined again.

That was the wolf’s temptation.

The song royalties were more reliable.

Regardless of whether the film would flop, “Fate as a Bridge” had already gained popularity after He Xier sang part of it, and online anticipation was building.

Once the movie was released, enthusiastic fans would stitch together clips, and the song was likely to become a hit.

Li He thought it was almost certain to reach the top ten on the Wind and Cloud Chart.

After some thought, Li He asked, “When can we sign the contract?”

“Anytime,” Deng Qin replied, already taking the contract out of her bag.

Li He took the contract and read it carefully.

The original owner knew nothing about contracts, but Li He in his previous life had learned something about copyright law.

After coming to this world, Li He brushed up on the standard legal clauses used in the entertainment industry, so at least he wouldn’t be completely in the dark when reading contracts.

It took him over half an hour to finish reading, and after making sure everything was in order, he signed the authorization agreement.

Deng Qin, watching from the side, was dumbfounded.

It was good to be cautious with contracts, but this was almost excessive—she’d even seen Li He use his phone to look up legal references.

Once the contract was signed, following the principle of payment upon delivery, Li He took out his phone, got He Xier’s email, and sent the audio version along with the electronic score and lyrics.

This was a small trick Li He had discovered.

There was no need to handwrite the lyrics and score; you could just make an electronic version and send the file directly.

Simple, convenient, and practical.

After receiving the email, He Xier was first delighted, then a little aggrieved.

Who was it just now who insisted the song was only on the computer…? She pouted, then plunged into the full version, unwilling to come out.

Jiang Qi tried to sneak a peek, but He Xier immediately locked her phone screen, refusing to let her see.

He Xier still remembered how, after Jiang Qi sent her the “halved” version of “Foam,” she kept sending her new versions every other day, each with only one extra line added.

Those days were pure torture.

Holding a grudge, He Xier was determined to return the favor in kind.

I didn’t even want to see it… Jiang Qi curled her lips, pretending not to care.

Then she turned to Li He and asked with a smile, “Teacher Jiabei, didn’t you tell me before yesterday’s livestream that after ‘Foam,’ you hadn’t written another song?”

Where did this “Fate as a Bridge” suddenly come from?

She wasn’t accusing Li He; she was just puzzled. There was no reason for him to lie—he could have just said he wrote a song for He Xier.

Li He looked up and replied, “I didn’t write a song—the version He Xier sang was just a fragment, not even half a song.”

He was completely earnest and innocent.

After hearing this, Jiang Qi was floored.

That actually made a lot of sense.

Right—the lyrics and music he gave He Xier were just a small fragment. Teacher Jiabei really hadn’t finished a ‘whole’ song at the time.

“Fate as a Bridge” was only completed yesterday.

But… why is my definition of ‘a song’ different from yours?

Jiang Qi was losing her mind.

Deng Qin actually wanted to look at the full lyrics and music too, but as a professional manager, she held back.

Soon, He Xier finished reading, beaming with satisfaction. She then looked up and asked in confusion, “Li He, why are the letters A and B marked before the lyrics? Is this song a duet?”

The system’s electronic synthesized demo didn’t distinguish male from female, but on the printed score, the system had marked male and female parts.

When Li He made the electronic version, he copied them over.

“It’s a male-female duet. A is the male part, B is the female,” Li He nodded.

“Can’t it be sung solo?”

He Xier wanted to claim the song for herself.

Her best friend had sung “Foam” alone—if she sang a duet, the impression would be that the song belonged to both voices.

She’d lose the upper hand when showing off to her friend in the future.

“Since the performance rights are yours, you can sing it however you like,” Li He, who knew nothing about music, suggested, “But I still recommend a duet. The lyrics and melody were written with that in mind.”

He paused, then smiled. “Of course, that’s just my suggestion.”

His task for “Fate as a Bridge” was done. Whether He Xier sang it solo or as a duet didn’t matter to him.

Still, since the duet version had become a hit in his previous life, he thought it best not to change it.

But if He Xier wanted to sing it alone, that was fine too.

After all, the “halved” version of “Fate as a Bridge” was already online; he’d already harvested the negative emotion points he needed.

Jiang Qi stepped in to persuade her, “Xier, since Teacher Jiabei wrote the song, he must understand it best. You can’t go wrong listening to him.”

If her best friend performed a duet, she could only show off half a verse at most.

Hey!

It wasn’t that Jiang Qi didn’t want her friend to sing solo; it’s just that some songs were meant for duets—singing them alone would lose their unique charm.

“We’ll discuss this when we get back,” Deng Qin cut in, ending their debate.

Now that the performance rights were settled, it was time to focus on the most important matters.