Chapter 338: The Beginning of Art
Wu Ciren quickly took out a small notebook and jotted down the words “amplification equipment.” He had originally thought that everything was ready and all he needed was the east wind, but once the project started running, he found that there was far too little east wind.
“Actually, the problem of amplification is far from being completely solved by voice training and vocal exercises. In short, to do modern pop music, the current equipment gap is still too large.” Liu Shuixin frowned. “It’s not just your situation here; Dongfang has the same problem. Whether it’s instrumental music or general singing, without amplification equipment, it’s almost meaningless.”
“Didn’t you say voice training could compensate?”
“This compensation is not absolute. You know about bel canto, right?”
Wu Ciren nodded.
“You see, most people don’t like bel canto. In fact, bel canto is similar to voice training; both use certain vocal techniques to compensate for insufficient normal volume. But this is not normal vocalization. Can you imagine an opera singer or a theater actor singing that ’21st Century Love Revolution’ with their vocal techniques?”
Wu Ciren felt the image was too beautiful to look at.
Like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, Wu Ciren was speechless. He couldn’t even pay attention to the “enthusiasm” of the first person singing below. He quickly forced out a sentence: “Is there any way?”
Liu Shuixin’s gaze turned to the young woman who was “singing with her heart” in the “train wreck.” She smiled sweetly. “I’m not from a science and engineering background; I can only sing and dance. What advice can I give you? I’m just saying: creating an artistic group is not as simple as you think…”
“Big sister, why didn’t you say so earlier…”
“Isn’t your starting point to cultivate artistic seeds? The performance effect is another matter. Besides, I’m also very happy to be able to get back to work.” Liu Shuixin looked very happy.
Wu Ciren was not happy. Although the Plaid Skirt Club project was affiliated with the Ministry of Propaganda, it was actually a self-funded project. In Lingao, any project not on the Planning Commission’s schedule was fraught with difficulties, relying entirely on oneself to “run to the departments” and “run to the factories” to solve problems. It required a lot of time and effort.
His own traffic police department was also a heavy workload. The National Police’s traffic police were not the “traffic police” of the old world. They were more like the “traffic police general corps” of the Republican era. In addition to normal road traffic management, they were also responsible for the protection and security of highways and railways. Just the patrol of the Hainan Island loop highway was enough to make him work himself to death.
He had to find someone specifically to take charge of this matter, he thought.
While the third review was going on here, in another room, the long-haired literary man and the man called Okamoto were whispering over a few photos, discussing their plans.
The official name of the department located in this courtyard was the Ministry of Propaganda’s Artistic Groups Management Office. In theory, all professional artistic groups under the Senate’s rule were managed by this office. In reality, the only local professional artistic group, the Lingao Puppet Troupe, was under the jurisdiction of the Mass Art Office. As for the semi-professional and amateur groups that had been formed, such as the lion dance team, the living newspaper group, the choir, and so on, they were also under Fang Fei’s management and command.
The so-called Artistic Groups Management Office had long been just a name on an “organizational chart” in a bright office. As for private artistic groups, many theater troupes had come to Lingao, but they were mobile businesses, moving to a new place after a while, and had no fixed business address. All the management office could do was review their performance repertoires and issue a permit, and that was it. In fact, this work had been handled by the Mass Art Office before the management office was formally established.
This situation of non-existence changed only after a Yuanlao formally proposed to the Executive Committee to establish a professional artistic group, and the calls for this within the Senate gradually grew stronger.
And the one pushing all this was the long-haired literary man, former US PhD, Yuanlao Dongfang Ke.
This Yuanlao, who had worked in the Planning Commission and the Finance and Economics Commission, was a rather inconspicuous figure in Bairen City. Apart from his usual work, military training, and general meetings, he almost never participated in collective activities. As a returnee from overseas, he never participated in otaku party gatherings, nor did he express any opinions on hot topics of concern to the transmigrators, such as the issue of maids. He never posted in the public announcement discussion area of the internal BBS; his posts could only be occasionally seen in a few small discussion groups with only a handful of members.
He had never actively sought an overseas assignment at work. It was said that he liked peace and solitude. On his days off, he would often only appear at the sports field to exercise alone, then wear a huge pair of headphones and go to the farm cafe to drink a glass of kvass to pass the time. He never went to the Wudaokou teahouse, which was almost exclusively for the finance and economics circle. Sometimes he would even sit with an e-book until closing time. What was even more interesting was that he continued to live in the Bairen City dormitory area long after the Yuanlao residential area was completed (it was said that someone had privately asked him the reason, and the answer was the classic line, “Because it’s close!”). What was most strange was that no one had ever seen his life secretary. He never talked about why he participated in the transmigration. It was difficult to understand a person without a clear pursuit.
His words and actions could certainly be called “cool,” which was why he was “so cool he had no friends.” Yuanlao Dongfang had always been a solitary figure in Lingao, until one night.
The lights of Dongmen Market were lit, and the gentle breeze from the bay blew away the heat of the day. The bronze bell of the Bopu Customs Building struck six long chimes. The cadres in Bairen City who had been busy all day also put down their documents. At the entrance of the General Finance Supervision Department office building, Yuanlao walked out in twos and threes, some discussing work questions, others what good dishes were in the cafeteria today.
Dongfang Ke, as usual, was the last to walk out of the gate. Sennheiser headphones covered his head, a black CD case hung from his waist, and his hands were in his pockets as he walked towards the Yuanlao cafeteria at a very fast pace. The sea breeze blew a strand of his long hair across his face, making this tall, thin young man in a light gray shirt and faded jeans look like a college student who had just finished self-study.
He was stopped by a tap on the shoulder at the entrance of the cafeteria—the other person obviously knew he couldn’t hear a call. It was a Yuanlao he had seen but couldn’t name. In fact, apart from the members of the Executive Committee and a few colleagues, he couldn’t remember the faces of the other Yuanlao. Dongfang stopped, took off his headphones, and carefully looked at the person. He seemed to remember that he had worked in the Finance and Economics Commission but had been transferred after the engine project. He hesitated for a moment before asking:
“You are? Uh, I’ve always been face-blind, please don’t mind.”
“I’m not in the Social Security Department anymore. I’m in charge of the insurance company now. You were in the Planning Commission before, right? It’s natural that you don’t know me! Hehe!” The person seemed very relaxed and familiar, laughing heartily.
“Well, I seem to remember. Okamoto Shin… Are you Japanese? And your name is… Ah Shin?” Yuanlao Dongfang looked confused.
A look of helplessness appeared on Okamoto’s face. “I’m not Japanese. This… well, it’s a long story. We can talk about it later when we have the chance.”
“Okay, what can I do for you? Is the insurance company recruiting? You can report directly to Commissioner Cheng. A change of work, a change of taste, that’s good. As long as I don’t have to sell insurance on the street, I can do any finance work.”
“Ah, no, no! It’s not about work. I’ve been thinking of setting up a theater troupe and an orchestra recently, and many people have similar ideas. But there are too many engineering otaku in our Senate and not many people who understand music. There’s a Liu Shuixin who seems to be an actress from a song and dance troupe, but she’s a married woman, so it’s not convenient to approach her directly. I remember you replied to my post on the BBS discussion thread, right? You’re also a senior enthusiast, right? Are you interested in discussing it together? Hey, why are we talking standing here? Are you free? It’s dinner time. Let’s find a place to chat? Dongmen Market Merchant Guildhall Restaurant, my treat!” Okamoto invited very enthusiastically.
“Hmm? The Merchant Guildhall Restaurant? It seems very noisy. Let’s not. But the matter of the theater troupe is quite interesting. How about we talk at my dormitory? You can have them deliver takeout there too.” Dongfang Ke replied with a blank expression and a calm tone.
“Ah? Uh… well… that’s… okay… fine.” Okamoto was clearly facing a situation of someone actively refusing a banquet for the first time. He seemed a little at a loss and nodded mechanically.
“Okay then, see you later!” Before he finished speaking, Dongfang had already turned and strode away. After walking three meters, he stopped and turned back. “Do you know my dormitory number? Or you can just call my mobile later? The number is…” He gave a number, put on his headphones again, and walked straight towards the Bairen Yuanlao dormitory area without looking back. He was tall with long legs and walked very fast. Okamoto, left standing there, didn’t even have time to say a few more words. He shrugged helplessly and had to go to the Dongmen Market restaurant by himself first.
Half an hour later, Okamoto walked into the Bairen dormitory area with a food delivery boy from the restaurant. To save himself the effort of carrying the food box, he had to get a temporary entry and exit permit for the boy. Although the entire Hainan Island could now be considered the Senate’s sphere of influence, the necessary security procedures had not been reduced.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but complain to himself about Dongfang Ke’s eccentricity: why live in Bairen City when there was a perfectly good villa area?
Following the room number Dongfang had given him over the phone, he found his dormitory room. The door was unlocked, and a dim yellow light leaked out. Okamoto knocked twice lightly and then pushed the door open. He first instructed the delivery boy to place the food and wine, gave him a circulation coupon, and sent him away. Then he and Dongfang Ke sat down. He looked around briefly and found the room’s furnishings to be extremely simple. All the furniture was standardized products from the Lingao Woodworking Factory. The only thing he didn’t know what it was were two small boxes on top of a cabinet. A closer look revealed they were a pair of miniature HIFI speakers, with no discernible brand. He couldn’t help but be secretly amazed.