Shattered Filter

Shen Shanden was going to give Da Mimi a proper lesson.

"Xiao Yang, tell me loudly—what's the most important thing when you're out making a living?"

"Yes, sir!" Da Mimi snapped to attention and saluted, then quipped, "When you're out making a living, the most important thing is being out."

Shen Shanden looked at her speechlessly. "Do you think you're pretty funny?"

Da Mimi couldn't help giggling.

"When you're out making a living, the most important thing is your background!"

Shen Shanden said, "A star's greatest background isn't their circle—it's the country they belong to!"

"If you want to make it in entertainment, you have to be under the spotlight and active at the center. Only vast territory, massive economic scale, and great-power status can produce major stars."

"At the same time, different kinds of countries produce different kinds of stars."

"And the prominence of Hong Kong and Taiwan stars was merely a product of a special era. That era has already passed."

Da Mimi looked unconvinced and objected outright. "Right now, singers, actors, leading ladies, rising actresses—they're all mainly from Hong Kong and Taiwan. Idol dramas and urban dramas are practically exclusive to Hong Kong and Taiwan too. We can only do historical dramas and war dramas."

Shen Shanden explained, "That's exactly what made them special. Their territories were small, so urbanization was easier than it was for us. Add their special locations and special outside support—there was a deliberate effort to put Hong Kong and Taiwan on equal footing with the mainland. But that was difficult to sustain."

Seeing that Da Mimi still didn't believe him, Shen Shanden felt it was necessary to shatter her filter.

"What do you think it means when a star works across two or three fields?"

Da Mimi answered without hesitation, "It means they're a big star. Once they reach a certain level, they usually act and sing at the same time."

"Wrong!"

Shen Shanden smiled. "What you know now is merely a distortion created by publicity. They've dressed up a funeral as a celebration."

"Working across two or three fields is, bluntly put, moonlighting. A singer can't earn enough from singing to support themselves, so they go act. If acting doesn't pay enough either, they go sing."

"Even artists who have become outstanding at their main profession will moonlight because the industry environment is brutal and they feel insecure about the future. They'll do everything possible to squeeze value out of their fame."

"In a mature market, aside from idols, few people both sing and act. And haven't you noticed that there are very few people on our side who both sing and act? Singing one or two songs occasionally doesn't count."

This was rather obscure knowledge to Shen Shanden, and Da Mimi's brain was starting to struggle with it.

"Our territory is too large. Take singers, for example. For one album, if they aren't singer-songwriters, they don't need to rack their brains creating songs. The company collects songs, while the artist only has to produce and practice them. That alone takes two or three months."

"For promotion, they have to tour first-tier cities. Shows, autograph sessions, fan meetings, commercial performances—going through the whole process in each city takes at least one or two weeks."

"Just making the rounds of first-tier cities takes nearly two months. Then touring second- and third-tier cities takes several more months."

"And that's only the initial stage of making money from a bestselling album. Once the chart run is over, touring gigs, cash-grab events, and concerts are where the real money is. Going through first-, second-, and third-tier cities again takes another half year."

"Then there are holiday programs, gala events, and invitations to private banquets. Add up all those holidays, and another month is gone."

"We're quite nostalgic here, so it isn't as brutal. Even if you've faded out in first-tier cities, you might still be popular in fourth- and fifth-tier cities and keep earning."

"A few more years later, the people who chased stars back then will have grown up, and you can come out and make another round of money."

"As long as you want to earn, you can work from before the New Year until the end of the year without a day off. You could literally work yourself to death."

"But Hong Kong and Taiwan singers are objectively unable to do that."

"Hong Kong Island has it the worst. Its market is small, and most singers can't sell beyond the territory. They can only be trapped in one city. With an album, even promotion is just running gigs, and the fast ones are done in one or two months."

"Taiwan is a little bigger, but even there it takes at most three or four months."

"Hong Kong Island singers need to release three or four albums a year, plus one or two greatest-hits compilations, just to fill their schedules. Five or six records a year—what kind of workload is that?"

"In Taiwan, they still need two or three records a year."

"And that's a privilege only for the few singers who can sell records. Producing albums costs money, promoting them costs money—what about singers who can't sell?"

Shen Shanden tossed the question to Da Mimi.

Shen Shanden analyzed it from basic economic principles. First, people needed to eat, and artists needed to make money too.

Without money, they could only live on air.

Second, if money could be made easily, no one would deliberately make things harder for themselves.

Da Mimi said, "So they can only moonlight?"

"Exactly. They can only moonlight."

Shen Shanden said, "It shouldn't be called working across two fields. It should be called working two jobs—or, more accurately, being forced to take odd jobs!"

"If artists can't support themselves through their main profession, they can only take odd jobs everywhere. Singers become actors, and actors become singers."

"It was originally a helpless choice, but by the time it got to us, it became an honor."

Seeing Da Mimi in a daze, Shen Shanden told her to clear the tableware.

She washed the plates and bowls that needed washing.

This kind of thing seemed like merely a matter of perception, but at its root, it was about narrative standards.

Under the Western narrative, with America's alliance system as the standard, everything about Hong Kong and Taiwan was supposed to be more advanced than the mainland.

Even in the future, if not for the rise of self-media exposing Americans selling blood for coffee and working three jobs a day, that would still be called a virtue, a trend—not a problem with the system.

The skepticism and critical spirit some people praised so highly was never directed at those above them in that system.

Not only that, when someone questioned it, they would howl and lose their composure.

Only after Da Mimi had finished washing the dishes and all the work was done did she realize it.

It seemed she had been led astray again.

"But the Hong Kong entertainment circle still controls a huge amount of resources, doesn't it?"

"See? You're getting anxious again." Shen Shanden wanted some exercise and patted his thigh.

Da Mimi merely stared at him silently without reacting.

Shen Shanden was a little disappointed, so he could only continue on his own. "What I just told you is actually more important for you. We're in a period of change now, and with the development of the internet, the most important thing is securing your position and occupying the high ground in the industry."

"Working across two or three fields is fine if it's just singing one or two songs occasionally, but don't put your energy into that."

"If you go into another industry, or even someone else's territory, you're farming their land and putting your effort into their place. Once you leave, someone else will plant your own land. By then, even if you want to come back, you won't be able to."

As Shen Shanden ate fruit, he quietly snuffed out Da Mimi's thoughts of breaking into the Hong Kong entertainment circle. Then he continued unhurriedly, "You need to brush away the surface and see the essence. Have you watched Super Girl? Have you seen the popularity of Li Yuchun, Zhou Bichang, and Zhang Liangying?"

"Not just them. There are people like Guo Jingming too. Have you noticed?"

Da Mimi looked innocent. "What?"

Shen Shanden didn't keep her guessing. "People born in the 1990s aren't interested in Hong Kong and Taiwan stars anymore. Trends have always been the domain of cities and young people. Even if certain people and interested parties blame an entire generation and label mainstream singers as non-mainstream, they can only influence things—they can't distort them."

"This world still follows basic economic laws and material rules."

"What people born in the 1990s like are young local talents. This is no longer an era where Hong Kong and Taiwan play something and we simply watch. We can play too."

"I can say for certain that after next year's Olympic Games, this phenomenon will become even more pronounced."

The ceiling of a star's career was closely related to their origins.

More accurately, it was tightly bound to the strength of the country or region they came from.

Not their true strength, but the strength they projected.

Hard power also needed packaging. It needed the cultivation of an image.

For people like Zhou, Lin, Wang, and Tao—whether from Taiwan, Hong Kong Island, Singapore, or overseas Chinese communities—their ceiling depended, to some extent, on how young people on the mainland perceived the regions behind them.

Take Taiwan's number one beauty, Lin Chi-ling. At this point in time, she could tread on top actresses to rise to the top. Her acting skills and works were practically nonexistent, yet she had reached first-tier status.

In later years, Taiwan wouldn't be able to promote someone like that even if it tried. Calling her the number one beauty would be useless.

Later still, they tried again, branding someone as a Go prodigy, but it only caused a small ripple. Breaking into the mainstream was even more out of reach.

Shen Shanden didn't just talk without acting. He was responsible too. "Your current task is to build your basic popularity. The dominance of Hong Kong and Taiwan will continue for a while, but the harder they suppress things, the more violent the eventual eruption will be."

"In another two years, I'll arrange an idol drama for you and pull in a huge wave of fans."

The Palace could become such a massive hit partly because of the era it emerged in.

In another two years, Shen Shanden should have the ability to put together a project.

It was a sure-fire investment.

Shen Shanden had always believed that if he gave other people orders, he had to be able to back them up. Otherwise, he would never do it.

Da Mimi was deeply moved.

Shen Shanden was deeply satisfied as well.

The next day, it was nearly eight o'clock.

Da Mimi was still dazed when she suddenly remembered—the film project? The role?

She discovered that she was the only one left in bed. Where had he gone?