Chapter 53: In My BGM, No One Can Defeat Me

After Sun Li filmed her final death scene, the professional film editor hired by the production crew—guided by Gu Cheng and Guan Hu—spent that very evening editing together the sequence of Gongsun Luogu's demise according to their artistic vision.

The audio mixing engineer also worked through the night, and by the next day, this specific segment was already paired with sound effects and background music.

In film and television production, dialogue and standard sound effect tracks can be merged before editing because these audio elements align perfectly with the visual action. When a portion of the footage is trimmed, the corresponding audio is cut along with it, creating no extra workload.

The "standard sound effects" mentioned here do not include footsteps, scuffling, or physical movement noises that can be captured directly as production audio. These sounds do not even need post-production merging; they simply use the clapperboard cue from the slate as the timeline synchronization point with the recorded video frames.

Sound effects that do require manual integration are those like weapon discharges, slashes, and impacts. Since firearms cannot be loaded with real ammunition during filming, nor can the sound of a blade piercing flesh be authentically recorded, these effects must be layered in one by one.

Background music, on the other hand, cannot be integrated prior to editing because doing so would shatter the musical continuity once the cuts are made. Therefore, scoring background music is invariably the final stage of a film or television project, undertaken only after all editing and visual post-production effects are complete.

The deliberate rush to score the death scene of Gongsun Luogu with the background track of "Be Happier Than Me" was entirely a calculated move by Gu Cheng. He wanted to rally his newly signed artists and establish a benchmark for talent treatment within his company, prompting the post-production team to work through the night specifically to finish this segment ahead of schedule.

The year 2002 was arguably the final golden peak of the physical record industry. Next year, with the bursting of the internet dot-com bubble and the proliferation of MP3 downloading, physical album sales were bound to decline gradually. Therefore, Gu Cheng intended to gather the company's signed artists during the upcoming Lunar New Year and release whatever material they had ready before the holiday rush closed out the season.

Sun Li possessed a fine vocal timbre, and the company had purchased the cover rights to several classic songs for her, alongside newly composed tracks written exclusively for her voice. This served as a final push before the door closed.

Even Gu Cheng himself planned to compile several new songs written after the *Meteor Shower* album—including his latest works, *Hair Like Snow* and *Orchid Pavilion*—into an EP, or perhaps even a personal greatest hits compilation containing all of his musical works. It was a way to join in the last hurrah of the physical record era.

By the following day, all the scenes set in the Passionless Valley were finally completed. Liu Feifei, portraying little Dragon Girl, carved the inscription "Sixteen years from now, let us meet here again" onto the side of the Cliff of Agony before leaping into the abyss to stage her disappearance.

Once work wrapped up, the female cast members had some idle time and arranged to meet at the recording studio to preview the final cut of Sun Li's death scene from the day before.

Chen Xiaodong's song "Be Happier Than Me" was, after all, a modern composition. Dropping the full track into *The Return of the Condor Heroes* as background music would naturally clash with the aesthetic style of the period piece.

Consequently, Gu Cheng had instructed the editor and audio engineer right from the start to use only the eight climactic lines of the song. The duration lasted roughly one minute, matching the exact length of the scene where Gongsun Luogu passes away in Yang Guo's arms.

"Embracing you in this moment, we at least had a beginning and an end. There are many kinds of blessings, yet the heartache remains unspoken... You must be happier than me, so that my cruelty to myself is worthwhile. I silently count down, finally seeing you clearly at the very end. The reflection of me in your eyes is so blurry, slowly being cast away into exile..."

The aesthetic visuals paired with the evocative vocals moved every single young woman in the room to tears.

Even Kwon Bo-ah, an observer who was just about to join the cast, wept softly, despite everyone knowing this was merely a classic storyline in a television drama that had already been filmed countless times by others.

"Director Gu's ability to manipulate the audience's emotions is truly extraordinary. He is well-deservedly the director who understands music best; what a versatile talent," Liu Feifei and Jiang Xin murmured to each other, their admiration for Gu Cheng deepening a notch.

Jiang Xin wiped away her tears after watching, letting out an envious sigh: "Sister Sun, I'm so envious of you. Although you changed companies and missed out on the role in *Jade Goddess of Mercy*, Director Gu is putting out an album for you as compensation. No one else gets treatment like that."

Sun Li blushed, lightly punching Jiang Xin's arm: "You little minx, if you're green with envy, why don't you jump ship too? What's holding you back from leaving your original agency?"

Jiang Xin offered a desolate smile, leaning in to whisper in a tone audible only to Sun Li: "My contract with Haihua Film and Television hasn't expired yet. How can I casually betray my allegiance? Even though they've only ever given me minor background roles, that's just because I lack the ambition and don't know how to manage relations with the producers and investors. It's no fault of theirs."

Seeing her resolve, Sun Li naturally found it difficult to offer further persuasion.

Just as the audio engineer finished playing that segment, Gu Cheng wrapped up his scheduling meeting for the next day's shoot with Guan Hu and strolled over to the production room to check on the results.

Seeing Gu Cheng enter, the group of actresses cleared a path, allowing him to step forward and inspect the work.

The audio engineer hurriedly replayed the sequence for Gu Cheng and asked, "Director Gu, the editing team finished cutting that scene of Yang Guo comprehending the Heavy Iron Sword technique in the Condor Valley, and they sent it over for me to score with background music. Care to have a listen?"

"Stop talking nonsense and play it," Gu Cheng urged briskly.

For this production, Gu Cheng had personally composed custom background music for many of Yang Guo's most impressive entrance sequences, intending to make his combat scenes feel intensely thrilling and atmospheric.

Historically, martial arts dramas adapted from Louis Cha's novels were breeding grounds for legendary musical scores—such as the Mount Hua论剑 theme from the 1983 version of *The Condor Heroes*, the use of Soya Tokuji's *Homecoming* in the 1996 adaptation, or the famous moniker from the 1998 *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils* proclaiming that "Qiao Feng is a man who brings his own background music." Each had become a celebrated classic of its era.

By extension, if one included achievements in the film realm, the various iterations of the *Swordsman* theme, Wong Jim's score for the *Once Upon a Time in China* series (*A Man Better Than You*), and Romeo Diaz's work for *The Tai-Chi Master* were timeless masterpieces that remained unsurpassed across generations.

Whenever later generations heard these soundtracks, they could proudly declare, "Who says the Celestial Empire lacks adrenaline-pumping anthems!"

Naturally, Gu Cheng held himself to exceptionally high standards. He hoped that the protagonist's exclusive background music for this television series would at least surpass the level of all the aforementioned classic dramas and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with musical prodigies like Romeo Diaz and Wong Jim.

Therefore, he had racked his brains during the initial planning stages, drawing the foundational motif of his chosen melody from the Hollywood hit *Pirates of the Caribbean* and its instrumental piece *He's a Pirate*.

The sheer intensity of *He's a Pirate* was beyond dispute; after all, it was a legendary melody capable of contending for Academy Awards, crafted by the contemporary German composer Klaus Badelt.

In fact, Gu Cheng had almost created a massive blunder here—in less than half a year, this very piece of music would officially be released. Fortunately, Gu Cheng intended to release this composition ahead of schedule within his own upcoming album this year; otherwise, if he waited until *The Condor Heroes* aired next year to unveil it publicly, many explanations would become unnecessarily complicated.

Naturally, *He's a Pirate* was not entirely suited for traditional martial arts scoring, and Gu Cheng did not possess a built-in Baidu database in his mind upon time-traveling. He could only recall the general motif and core melody, making minor adjustments accordingly.

When he first signed on to direct *The Condor Heroes*, he had hoped to enlist Jay Chou to arrange the piece, replacing the original string quartet instrumentation dominated by double basses and cellos with traditional Chinese percussion and wind instruments. As it turned out, Jay Chou proved unsuited for this particular style and could not manage it at all, forcing Gu Cheng to spend 500,000 yuan to specially invite the grandmaster Romeo Diaz to Hong Kong for the arrangement.

Master Hu was quite satisfied with the melody and painstakingly arranged it for Gu Cheng, retaining only the violin as the lead instrument to enrich the emotional expression. He took the liberty of adding the background textures of an ocarina and a xiao flute to heighten the sense of tragic grandeur—after all, this background music was meant to accompany Yang Guo as he endured the arduous training of the Heavy Iron Sword technique following the amputation of his arm. Though Yang Guo's character was arrogant and fiercely competitive throughout his life, his journey had never been smooth sailing. Handled by Master Hu's deft touch, the result conveyed an even more profound resonance than Gu Cheng's original intent.

The "Yang Guo background music" that Gu Cheng had edited into the show at present originated from this slightly altered, sinicized rendition of *He's a Pirate*. Listening to it evoked the majestic grandeur of a Germanic heroic march, interwoven with the distant, boundless spirit of an adventurer destined for greatness.

As for the title, using English was naturally out of the question, so Gu Cheng swung his brush and bestowed the name *The Wrathful Roar of the Western Eccentric*.

...

When the combat footage featuring Yang Guo's exclusive background music played out, it instantly captured the hearts of every young woman present.

A lingering, indescribable sensation echoed in everyone's mind: "No one can defeat him while Director Gu's background music is playing..."

Looking once more at Gu Cheng on screen in his one-armed silhouette, dragging a long, wind-catching sleeve as he strode against the gale deep within the Condor Valley wielding the heavy iron sword, that rustic, desolate, and defiant arrogance instantly burst forth.

Radiating effortless charisma with every step.

Had teenagers of a decade later witnessed this, they would undoubtedly have shaken their legs in excitement and shouted, "Face the wind!"

This visceral impact was worlds apart from watching the unedited raw performances without special effects on the filming set.

Among all the women, Kwon Bo-ah suffered the most severe shock.

Having only joined the cast two days prior, she had not witnessed Gu Cheng's acting performances from earlier shoots. Furthermore, among everyone present, her musical attainment was the highest, and she composed music herself.

Upon learning that this musical score was actually her cousin's newly minted creation, her heart was filled to the brim with a shared pride.

"Gulp," Kwon Bo-ah swallowed hard. It was only then she realized she had been holding her breath, breathing through her mouth for a full minute, forgetting even to swallow naturally, and had nearly choked on her own saliva.

*Why is he my older cousin, ugh...* Kwon Bo-ah felt she had instantly plunged into Guo Xiang's state of melancholy, her emotional meter maxed out. For any young woman, the most tragic thing in the world was discovering that a man this handsome and talented happened to be her cousin.

Just as Kwon Bo-ah felt a recurring tightness in her chest, Jiang Xin broke the silence with a strained voice: "Director Gu, once I finish with Haihua Film and Television... I mean, if I pay the contract termination penalty myself and come to join your agency, would you look down on me for abandoning my original management company?"

"Hardly," Gu Cheng replied calmly. "They treat me like a common man, so I serve them as a common man. They treat me like a national treasure, so I serve them as a national treasure. Your current agency only gave you background roles for four years. Keep your own ledger in your heart; decide for yourself what level of effort is sufficient to repay their kindness in discovering you, and as long as your conscience is clear, that's enough. I won't pressure you."

After stating this calmly, Gu Cheng gestured toward Kwon Bo-ah: "Back then, that's how I advised Xiao Ya. In life, you at least need to maintain your integrity and be worthy of your own conscience and the kindness of those who gave you your start."

When Kwon Bo-ah's father and brother had opposed her signing a maximum-term exclusive contract with Lee Soo-man, she had sought out Gu Cheng to vent her frustration, and this was precisely how he had advised her.

As a human being, one must at least uphold a sense of righteousness.

"Ah, well, I suppose I'll just endure another two years then," Jiang Xin muttered after some thought, ultimately unable to override her own conscience.

Gu Cheng patted her shoulder: "Don't worry, I trust your character. Not changing your agency doesn't mean we can't collaborate in the future."