Chapter 28: Our First Meeting

In 1990, BB.QUEENS soared to fame on the wings of the theme song for "Chibi Maruko-chan." Riding this wave, BEING held an open audition that August to select backing vocalists for B.B.QUEENS. It was through this audition that a new figure was brought into BEING’s orbit.

Her name was Sachiko Kamachi. At the time, she was an unknown model, already twenty-five years old—considered “advanced age” in the Japanese entertainment industry, where early fame is crucial. Standing on the brink of elimination, she arrived at the BEING audition with a faint hope. Though she ultimately failed to qualify, her outstanding qualities caught the attention of Daikichi Nagato, who, after the audition, invited her to join BEING.

The following year, in 1991, Sachiko Kamachi changed her name to Izumi Sakai, becoming the central—and only permanent—member of the band ZARD. Thus began the legend of an era.

In China, ZARD’s best-known song is the Detective Conan theme “Turning the Wheel of Destiny,” a classic melody that has accompanied many through their youth. But in Japan, her iconic hit is the 1993 release “Don’t Give Up.” This song has long hovered in the top three of motivational music charts and was eventually included in music textbooks, becoming a timeless classic. After this song was released, ZARD announced they would no longer make public appearances.

Despite no longer performing on television or holding public concerts, ZARD did not fade away. Instead, they maintained a remarkable drive, achieving a career total of thirty-seven million sales and nine consecutive albums with over a million copies sold—a miracle in the industry. As the soul of ZARD, Izumi Sakai became a legendary figure.

When Ye Zhao decided to join BEING, he often imagined what it would be like to meet Izumi Sakai. Perhaps he would bump into her at the company, or maybe he’d write a song for her and meet her at a new track preview. He wondered how he’d greet her, how he’d confess his admiration as a fan—the most honest reaction anyone from this era would have upon meeting Izumi Sakai.

But when Izumi Sakai actually appeared before him, the intensity of the experience rendered all his rehearsed words meaningless. For others, meeting Izumi Sakai was simply encountering a superstar who never appeared on television. But for Ye Zhao, this meeting bridged not just the distance between fan and idol, but the gulf between life and death—for in 2007, she would die suddenly after falling from a hospital staircase during a period of illness, her life ending abruptly at forty.

Standing before him now was not a photograph or a video left for future generations to mourn, but a living person, in the prime of her life. Never before had Ye Zhao felt so grateful for his rebirth.

“Who is this?” Noticing Ye Zhao’s intense gaze, Izumi Sakai tilted her head slightly. Once she was sure the young man’s bright eyes held no ill intent, she asked Masao Akashi.

“This is our company’s newest recruit—the underground singer Ye Zhao, the one who sang ‘Summer Colors.’” Masao Akashi smiled, a bit proud as he announced, “He’s learning arrangement from me now, so he’s my apprentice!”

“You’re Ye Zhao?” Izumi Sakai looked Ye Zhao over with curiosity. “So young.”

“He’s only nineteen—a promising talent.” Masao Akashi glanced at Ye Zhao, who was still half petrified, and gave his shoulder a hearty slap. “Hurry up and greet your senior!”

Reminded by Masao Akashi, Ye Zhao snapped out of his daze and jumped up from his chair. “Hello, Sister Izumi!”

Izumi Sakai laughed softly. “No need to be so formal, I’m not one of those strict seniors. But you called me ‘sister’? Aside from my siblings back home, no one’s ever called me that.”

Ye Zhao was simply used to it—after all, in the future, her fans would affectionately call her “Sister.”

“You don’t know, Izumi,” Masao Akashi said with a mischievous grin, exposing Ye Zhao’s secret. “On his first day, Mika wanted to pull him into the BEER club, and his first question was whether you were part of it. And look at how he reacted just now when he saw you—he’s probably your fan. Maybe he joined the company because of you.”

“Is that so?” Izumi Sakai observed Ye Zhao with interest, a playful light in her clear eyes. This was a side of her Ye Zhao had never seen—her off-camera persona.

Under her gaze, even after living over twenty years in his previous life, Ye Zhao felt embarrassed. His mind went blank, and he blurted out, “Actually, I joined because BEING’s style is so free.”

“Oh, I see~” Izumi Sakai drew out her reply, feigning disappointment.

“How foolish!” Masao Akashi scolded. “The standard answer in this situation is, ‘Yes, I joined the company because I admire Miss Sakai.’ If you’d said that, Izumi would be happy, and you could use the opportunity to get closer to her—she might even treat you to a late-night meal!”

“Isn’t it you who wants the late-night snack, Teacher Akashi?” Ye Zhao retorted, twitching his lips in amusement.

Whether Ye Zhao underestimated the rapport between Izumi Sakai and Masao Akashi, or whether Izumi Sakai wasn’t as reserved as she appeared on camera, she joined in the teasing. “Ye, since Teacher Akashi wants a late-night snack, shouldn’t you, as his apprentice, do something about it?”

Ye Zhao caught her meaning and played along, pretending to ponder deeply. Looking at Izumi Sakai, he said, “I really like Sister Izumi… Miss Sakai. I joined the company because I admire Miss Sakai.”

“Is that so? Though it sounds perfunctory, since you’re so obedient, I’ll treat you to a late-night snack.” Izumi Sakai smiled. “And there’s no need to change how you address me—I don’t mind being called ‘sister.’” With that, she left to instruct her assistant.

The control room was now left with Ye Zhao and Masao Akashi. Masao Akashi joked, “I didn’t expect your principles to crumble so easily, apprentice. You sold out for a meal.”

“I did it for you!” Ye Zhao rolled his eyes, slumping back into his chair, unwilling to humor the old rascal.

Izumi Sakai’s late-night visit to the studio was certainly not just for casual conversation with Masao Akashi and Ye Zhao. While she gave instructions to her assistant, the studio staff came to inform her that the recording booth was ready. After a brief greeting, she made her way to her private recording room.

About ten minutes later, Izumi Sakai’s assistant—a doll-faced girl in her early twenties—entered the control room, holding two plastic bags. “Teacher Akashi, Miss Izumi asked me to bring the late-night snacks.” She set the bags down and left.

The snacks were oden and Japanese-style pan-fried dumplings, accompanied by a cup of iced coffee. When Ye Zhao realized that Izumi Sakai had not only treated him and Masao Akashi but had bought late-night snacks for the entire studio staff, he secretly gave her a thumbs-up in his heart: truly worthy of being Sister Izumi, radiating warmth and charm.

That night, Ye Zhao didn’t see Izumi Sakai again. After finishing his snack, he took the lessons he’d learned and entered the recording booth for the second time. This session lasted a full two hours. When Masao Akashi finally called a halt, Ye Zhao yawned, rubbed his tired eyes, and headed to the lounge, where he dozed on a recliner until six in the morning before dragging himself out of the studio.

Two days later, the second recording session began, this time with three backing vocalists added...

By the fourth session, the recording of both songs was essentially complete...

Once all the recording was finished, every track was sent to the mixing studio, where the engineer blended the fragments together, adding compression, equalization, distortion, reverb, and other effects, ultimately creating a complete and immersive final product.

By the time the master tape was finished, it was already August twenty-second—precisely half a month before BEING’s scheduled September seventh single release date.

And Ye Zhao’s new single tie-in was finally decided.