Between January 9th and 15th, as Zhou Yuyi's popularity skyrocketed, other tracks from his album were lifted into the spotlight by the hit song, "I Wish to Embrace You in This Ordinary Life." Under the guidance of his manager, Zhan Ge, a fan club was swiftly established. Its name: "Feathers."
Unlike average managers, Zhan Ge didn't rush to cash in on Zhou Yuyi's rising fame by booking commercial performances. Don't underestimate the power of those gigs—Lu Dayu, for example, made over a hundred million yuan from a single song, "Guangdong Love Story."
Instead, Zhan Ge traded fame for long-term resources. The first move? Getting Zhou Yuyi a guest spot on "Music Hearth," a program hosted by Gu Duofu, one of the three major music critics online.
Zhou Yuyi's interview with Gu Duofu went smoothly. The questions were pre-vetted, and any sensitive topics were removed ahead of time.
"I noticed that 'I Wish to Embrace You in This Ordinary Life' is a song written by brother Jiu. From what I've heard, he rarely writes for others. What made you special?"
Zhou Yuyi chuckled, "Maybe because I play badminton well?"
Encouraged to elaborate, he continued, "I'm brother Jiu's regular badminton partner. He's great at the game. There was one match where I barely won, and I shamelessly begged him for one of his 'discarded drafts.'"
"Another discarded draft?" Gu Duofu exclaimed. "First 'Learn to Meow,' then 'Loving You at 105°C,' and now this? These so-called 'scraps' keep becoming chart-toppers. I'm curious, how does brother Jiu decide what's a discarded draft?"
"He says it's based on how much thought he puts into it. For this one, the composition and arrangement were fairly simple," Zhou Yuyi replied. "I asked him if making it more complex would improve it."
Gu Duofu was intrigued.
"Brother Jiu explained that this song needs to use a simple, even cliché melody to make the chorus really catchy," Zhou Yuyi continued. "He said the familiar chord progressions trigger a sense of nostalgia, something embedded in our musical DNA. That's what makes it so infectious."
"I get it now," Gu Duofu nodded. "I have a cousin who paints. Her doodles and serious works are worlds apart. So these 'discarded drafts' are like brother Jiu's musical doodles."
He laughed, then added, "If any other artist said that, I'd think, 'Wow, look, pigs are flying!' But when it's brother Jiu—with his mastery of Japanese ballads, Russian lyrics, New Chinese style, rock, rap, pop, jazz—I believe it. Brother Jiu is eternal."
Of the three main music critics—Zhang Mingyi the bootlicker, Gu Duofu the lone wolf, and Zuo Yangfei the trolling dog—Gu Duofu was known for rarely giving praise. On his self-produced show, he was always objective. Within fan circles, if he praised your idol, he was a genius. If he criticized them, he was trash. That he openly praised a young artist like Chu Zhi on-air spoke volumes.
The show also detailed Zhou Yuyi's efforts to perfect the song, though, truthfully, isn't it expected for a singer to work hard?
Lyrics by: Chu Zhi
Composed by: Chu Zhi
Arranged by: Chu Zhi
Producer: Huang Xiangji
Recorded at: Taiyang Chuanhe Recording Studio
Copyright: Chu Zhi
While the rest of the credits were standard, the name "Chu Zhi" repeated multiple times left even non-fans speechless.
Naturally, fans were overjoyed, writing glowing essays in praise. Bystanders had their own takes:
WutongwaiY:"I'm done. Chu Zhi hasn't released a new album in a year, yet he's been writing for others, for movies, for variety shows. Some songs don't even get released! Not even a farm mule works this hard. Release a new album, I'm begging!"
TianningMRMR:"Can't stop laughing. After 'trash bin hits,' now we have 'doodle masterpieces.' That was the most expensive badminton game ever."
Ichargedmoney:"What if Chu Zhi is a hit-song-making robot? And 'hit song' has double meaning here."
96CMFU:"I think Chu Zhi has what it takes to be a king. Two albums a year? Easy. Add one more, three albums! With his looks? Give me five albums a year!"
The participants in this online buzz were diverse, including old-school web fiction fans from CMFU, a precursor to Qidian.
Thanks to Zhan Ge's brilliant management, Zhou Yuyi was getting solid exposure on smaller shows he normally wouldn't qualify for. Chu Zhi earned fame and royalties. It was a win-win.
At first, only internet influencers wanted to dig through his trash bin. Now even third- and fourth-tier singers were scrambling for a 'discarded draft.' Many mocked hit songs until they became famous through one.
In a world where viral success is often left to fate, Chu Zhi had become the man who beat mysticism.
"So many requests," sighed Niu Jiangxue as she stretched. She'd rented a small apartment near the company for convenience.
"Chu Zhi is constantly busy. He doesn't have that many doodle songs," she grumbled. "This is starting to get boring."
Niu Jiangxue had her principles. She never bullied people with power. Some manager teams were worse than the artists they represented, acting arrogant just because their client was popular.
Instead, she politely declined requests with lines like, "Maybe next time," or "The artist's schedule is full." People in the industry understood these were soft rejections.
If someone insisted, she would firmly shut them down. Her fallback line? "Our artist doesn't want to write songs." That way, all blame went to the star, and she stayed in the clear.
Still, even soft rejections could rub people the wrong way. Asking for help and not receiving it is reasonable, but human emotions aren't always so rational.
Despite being a young woman, Niu Jiangxue shouldered her responsibilities. A manager's job was to provide the best environment for their artist.
After replying to all the messages, it was already 11:30 p.m. Starving, she ordered takeout: eight pounds of crayfish.
Don't worry, eight pounds sounds like a lot, but there's barely any meat. Peeling them, though, hurts like hell. She finally finished at 1:30 a.m.
"That was amazing," she said, then immediately frowned. "Great, now I'm going to gain ten pounds."
Weighing herself, she was relieved. Only up two pounds. Not bad.
"Why do I gain weight in my elbows and cheeks, but lose it in my chest?" she groaned, eating a cucumber to 'cleanse the oil.'
As she gained, someone else lost weight: Zhou Yuyi. The result of constant travel and little time to eat.
When a popular star suddenly gains weight, it usually means they've stopped caring. If they're gaining for a role? That's already half a step toward becoming a serious actor.
"This gig pays a million. After fees, you'll get around a hundred thousand. Any hard feelings?" Zhan Ge asked out of nowhere.
Zhou Yuyi flinched, then quickly replied, "Of course not, I'm grateful!"
"You better be. That song by Chu Zhi? It's now worth five million. Originally, we offered him no cut at all. He's the one who changed it to a 70-30 split, so your share is his gift."
"Let me be blunt. Your voice is unique, but not irreplaceable. That song would've been a hit with someone else too. It's not that your singing made the song explode—it's that this song made you famous. Understand?"
Zhou Yuyi nodded earnestly.
"You know how many artists want to play badminton with Chu Zhi now? Some even signed up for classes."
"No way! Please don't let anyone else take my badminton spot," Zhou Yuyi pleaded. "He gave me that song. I'm deeply thankful."
"Good," Zhan Ge nodded. "I've briefed Xiao Tong on your next schedule. I have another meeting to attend."
Whether Zhou Yuyi was truly grateful or not, that lecture was necessary. Fame can go to one's head fast.
Zhan Ge sighed, "If only I'd become Chu Zhi's main agent back then... But fate is fate."
With Spring Festival approaching, Zhan Ge had his hands full managing multiple artists. As year-end neared, those who hadn't made a name for themselves got increasingly anxious.
Meanwhile, at the studio, Chu Zhi rubbed his temples. A year of high-intensity work was finally taking its toll, even on someone who had once played the Emperor Beast. But as long as his appetite remained strong, everything else was manageable.
"Should I call Ma Ge over for a massage?" asked his assistant, Xiaozhu.
"Not yet. Let me review next year's itinerary first. And get me an iced coffee, please."
Xiao Zhu nodded and headed to the break room.
Chu Zhi had two itineraries. One was a multi-page breakdown of confirmed 2021 events.
March 14: New album release. (Coincides with Lunar calendar's "Dragon Raises Its Head" Day.)
April 1: Premiere of "After I Close My Eyes" in Tokyo.
May: Trilateral performance in China, Japan, and Korea. This event could not be messed up.
Late July to early August: Fuji Rock Festival. A prestigious spot given by veteran Xu Ji.
October: Filming for Season 4 of "Back to Simplicity." Although initially hesitant, the Mango Channel offered an irresistible price: 13 million per episode, with a 2 million signing bonus.
Though Chu Zhi wasn't yet the top of the entertainment industry, he easily out-earned most. Su Yiwu and Zhou Guowu, second-tier stars, only commanded 5-6 million per episode.
He only accepted six episodes, not due to budget, but due to scheduling conflicts. In November, he was invited as a guest speaker at the St. Petersburg International Culture Forum.
"Is this what it feels like to be the hottest star in the business?" Chu Zhi muttered. "It's not even Lunar New Year, and my entire 2021 is booked."
And speaking of hot stars, he suddenly craved fried crispy chicken—a Cantonese specialty.
He browsed reviews on Dianping and found a well-rated Cantonese restaurant.
Tonight, he was treating.
He also kept an internal itinerary for personal priorities, like the second Fan Festival and cheering fans on for the national college entrance exam. These didn't earn money but were dear to his heart.
"This will be my final event of the year," Chu Zhi whispered. "A perfect ending to 2020."
The nanny van pulled into the parking garage. Xiao Zhu helped straighten his clothes before heading into the venue.
Tonight's event? Montblanc's Lunar New Year Celebration (China exclusive), where they released limited-edition red watches and pens. The event featured ambassadors from across Asia representing jewelry, perfumes, clothing, and eyewear.
In showbiz, unless it's an award ceremony, there's a saying: "Kings do not see kings." The Asian ambassador for Montblanc watches was Feng Mei. For their Greater China jewelry line, it was actress Zhou Xiangsi. Both were film stars of high stature. Chu Zhi's arrival made the atmosphere... complicated.