ECG -Chapter 64 If They Can’t Do the Job, Take Them Away Immediately

Lin Hao took a deep breath and quickly steadied himself. Leaning close to Fourth Sister’s ear, he shouted, “Fourth Sister, how about I go up and sing a song later? It’s been a long time since I’ve performed with a band!”

Fourth Sister fell silent.

She knew that Lin Hao had to be furious right now.

Someone else was singing a song he had written, and he was sitting right there beneath the stage. If he left without making so much as a peep, he could forget about gaining a foothold in the provincial capital’s music scene in the future.

Although Lin Hao was still unfamiliar with the local circle, he already had one foot in the door. It was only a matter of time before he became part of it.

If this had been between friends or bandmates, singing each other’s songs would have been no big deal. But Lin Hao barely knew these people. He had performed that very song earlier tonight, and now they were singing it again right in front of him.

It was practically a slap in the face.

Look here—I sing it better than you do!

What exactly was Zhao Xiaoyi trying to do?

Both he and Lin Hao performed at the same venue. Why insist on creating hostility? What was going on inside Zhao Xiaoyi’s head?

Fourth Sister nodded at him.

Lin Hao shouted, “Thanks!”

The song ended amid applause. Just as Lin Hao was about to stand up, the guitarist opened his mouth again.

“Next, we’d like to dedicate The First Snow of 2002 to all of you!”

Lin Hao froze.

He had sung that song during the winter break last year at Black Knight Bar in Chunhe. How did this guy know it?

He had never even performed it at Ferrycrossing Bar.

Only half a year had passed. How had it spread to the provincial capital so quickly?

After all, the internet was nowhere near as developed as it would be in later years. Even blogging on Houlang was only just beginning to gain popularity.

After thinking it over, he guessed that another musician must have heard the song and brought it to the provincial capital.

Fourth Sister looked at him.

Lin Hao nodded.

She immediately understood.

This song belonged to Lin Hao as well.

Leaning close, she whispered, “Stay seated for now.”

Then she stood up.

Walking briskly outside the bar, she could already hear the intro to The First Snow of 2002 beginning behind her.

She pulled out her phone, searched through her contacts for a moment, and made a call.

“Zheng Lao Liu!”

The other end was extremely noisy. A man shouted back, “Fourth Sister, it’s chaotic over here. Give me a second—I’ll step outside and call you back!”

Fourth Sister hung up, lit a cigarette, and had only taken a few puffs when her phone rang.

“Fourth Sister, what’s up?”

“Zheng Lao Liu, let me ask you something. What kind of people did you bring me?”

She was genuinely angry.

Zheng Lao Liu had once been a keyboardist and singer who spent years working in the provincial capital’s nightlife scene. A few years ago, feeling that he was getting older, he switched to being an agent.

He helped bands and singers find gigs and took a cut in the middle. Since he was a veteran in the industry, knew plenty of venues and musicians, and handled people smoothly, he had become one of the most influential booking agents in the city over the past couple of years.

“What happened? Xiaoyi’s band is pretty good,” Zheng Lao Liu replied, completely confused.

“Yeah, their skills are fine. But were their brains caught in a door?”

She briefly explained the situation and then added:

“You brought these people here. If they can’t do the job properly, come take them away! I don’t need them stirring up trouble in my place! Figure it out yourself!”

With that, she hung up without another word.

She took two hard drags from her cigarette, threw the butt to the ground, and ground it under the heel of her transparent high-heeled sandal.

Ever since Lin Hao started performing at Ferrycrossing in March, he had never once arrived late or left early. He showed up on time and left on time every single day.

His imitations of the original singers were almost perfect, and every now and then he would pull out an original song that left audiences amazed, bringing a huge number of customers to the bar.

There were countless electric bands in the provincial capital. If one didn’t work out, she could always replace them. In fact, she had never intended to keep any band around permanently. Customers got bored after watching the same group for too long.

But someone like Lin Hao—a skilled singer-songwriter who performed with just a guitar—was rare.

There was no way she would let a band drive him away.

Inside the bar, Zhao Xiaoyi’s desolate singing voice drifted out.

Even Fourth Sister paused in surprise.

She quickly walked back inside.

Apart from the band and Zhao Xiaoyi’s voice, the entire bar had fallen silent.

Some customers already had tears welling in their eyes.

Lin Hao and Wu Xiaozhou sat quietly, cigarettes hanging from their lips, listening.

The arrangement of The First Snow of 2002 had been heavily modified from the original version.

Many of the Xinjiang musical elements were gone, making the song sound more mainstream and pop-oriented.

Even so, the arrangement and instrumentation were very complete, and the guitarist’s singing was nearly flawless.

The sense of desolation, mixed with nostalgia and a faint sadness, was conveyed quite well.

Looking at the stage, Lin Hao felt a surge of emotions.

Although he had already registered these songs and secured their copyrights, this world was remarkably similar to the one from his previous life.

When singers or musicians performed copyrighted songs in bars and nightclubs, it generally wasn’t considered infringement.

Technically, they were profiting from someone else’s work, but because the profits were small and the performances helped spread the music, it had become an accepted industry custom.

No one usually pursued the matter.

There was another reason as well.

Most famous singers had spent years performing small gigs before achieving success. They understood the hardships of making a living this way.

As a result, they rarely minded.

After all, these performers were simply trying to survive.

Large-scale commercial performances, however, were a completely different story.

In those cases, both the original singers and the songwriters cared deeply about copyright issues.

The song ended.

Applause erupted throughout the bar.

Wu Xiaozhou looked at Lin Hao with utter disdain and gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up.

“Impressive. Really impressive. They’re practically shitting on your neck and you can still sit there without moving.”

Lin Hao shot him a glare.

If he hadn’t anticipated all of this beforehand, Wu Xiaozhou’s beer bottle would probably have already been flying toward the stage.

Seeing a female singer walking toward the microphone, Lin Hao stood up and climbed onto the stage in a few quick steps.

The singer had short golden hair and a petite, delicate figure.

When she suddenly saw someone leap onto the stage from the audience, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Smiling, Lin Hao reached out and casually took the microphone from her hand.

Only then did she recognize him.

She had no idea why he was stealing her microphone.

Just as she was about to speak, she saw Fourth Sister wave at her from below the stage.

Without another word, she turned around and stepped off the stage.