Watching everyone else exchange for mountains of merch, Ling Zinan hesitated, thought it over carefully, then chose a simple hat worth 5 Ju Coins.
Regret instantly set in.
Ling Zinan's mood could only be described as his mom regretting having him—that level of regret."I shouldn't have doubted brother Jiu..." Ling Zinan stood there, sulking in a dark emo cloud.
Fortunately, his gloom didn't last long. Each attendee was given a limited edition commemorative backpack—another kind of souvenir.
"I've been eyeing this orange bag forever. It's gorgeous."
He was still a high schooler, after all. Teen emotions came and went quickly.
"It's just an orange backpack. Why are you so happy about that?" his mom said, unimpressed.
"How is it not good-looking?" Ling Zinan bristled. "Look at those two woven nylon jacquard straps, the padded mesh cotton-linen back panel, and this front flap with the lock clasp—timeless and stylish. And even if you ignore all that, this Ju Bag? People online are offering four to five thousand yuan for it, and still can't get one."
"What? Four to five thousand?" His mother froze. "That celebrity could make a fortune just selling bags like this."
"What are you thinking? Brother Jiu hasn't even released any merch yet. He only gave out 300 of them last time, so there's barely any in circulation," Ling Zinan explained. "The Ju Bag, the keychains—all of it has a unique serial number. You can look it up on Orange Home."
She didn't get it. She really didn't. But she was absolutely shocked.
The most expensive bag she owned was a gift from her husband on their tenth anniversary, worth just over five thousand. But that was a high-end luxury brand.
And here was a celebrity whose stuff was worth just as much... yet he refused to sell it? Completely baffling.
"You guys were kinda underwhelming today, huh? Still so many snacks left," said Kun Yun. "Little Jiu left instructions. You're responsible for finishing all this. Put it in the backpacks you just got."
Last time, the snacks were pre-packed for fans. This time, the one playing the Emperor Beast had made a minor change: fans had to pack the snacks themselves.
"Let's get moving. Don't let anything go to waste."
Urged by Teacher Kun Yun, the three hundred fans started packing, though they were a bit hesitant. Most only grabbed one or two small bags.
"What are you doing?" Kun Yun took a bag from one of the fans, stuffed it with several tubes of potato chips, sour plums, spicy chicken feet, soft milk candies, pork jerky, beef strips—twenty to thirty bags in total. In no time, the bag was bulging.
But he wasn't done. He added another layer on top with delicate snacks like wafers, Oreos, corn crisps. The zipper wouldn't even close anymore. He barely managed to snap the plastic buckle shut.
The Ju Bag now looked like someone who had eaten twelve pounds of crayfish and still insisted on downing a whole roast lamb. It was a bulging, overfed glutton of a backpack.
"Hmm... still needs something." Kun Yun thought for a moment, then grabbed two bottles of drinks and forced them into the side pockets. He had to use a fair bit of strength to get them in.
"This is how it should be packed," he said. He handed the bag back to the fan, not even sure how many snack bags were inside. All he knew was that when he passed it back to one of the Little Fruits, she couldn't hold it with one hand. It nearly hit the floor.
Thanks to his demonstration, every Little Fruit ended up with an absolutely stuffed Ju Bag of snacks. With that phase complete, staff members led them to a nearby restaurant for dinner. It was similar to last year's, very generous and satisfying.
Qi Qingqing, Ling Zinan, and the rest were overjoyed. And the guardians of the fifty attending Little Fruits? Their opinion of Chu Zhi had changed drastically.
There's a saying—"when someone feeds you, it's hard to stay mad." These guardians weren't even fans, but after being fed and gifted like this? It was hard to stay indifferent.
A bunch of parents got converted on the spot. They had never seen fandom done like this.Actually... even the young fangirls hadn't seen this before the Emperor Beast came along.
After dinner, the staff double-checked every fan's safety, especially those minors who had come without a guardian.
Chu Zhi had even hired security professionals to oversee the process. The cost wasn't small, but to the Emperor Beast, only three things mattered: safety, safety, and more damn safety.
At around ten that night, Chu Zhi finally received the report: all fans were safe and accounted for.
September 7th. The Orange Festival ended in total success.
Niu Jiangxue, Lao Qian, and others couldn't help feeling the second Orange Festival had gone a bit over budget. The first had cost a little over three million. This one? Over five million.
Staffing, decoration, merch production, fifty extra parents' airfare—every bit added up. But for Chu Zhi, it wasn't a problem.
In the industry, there's an unwritten rule: don't hire fans as part of your management team. Why? Because when fans look at you through a filter of admiration and get close enough to see your flaws, that love can turn to hate. There were examples of that in both Earth and the parallel world.
But after three years, Chu Zhi's mom-fan Wang Yuan only had one thought. "Little Jiu deserves every bit of his popularity."
Like now. Wang Yuan was moved. He spent so much effort and money, just for the fans.
But the Emperor Beast had a different view. Was the Orange Festival expensive? Not really. Look at the new fans it brought in, the reputation boost, the wave of goodwill. Could five million in ads buy that kind of effect?
The first Orange Festival was like a one-ton bomb that rocked the entire entertainment scene. The second? Ten tons of explosives.
Just look at the Douyin streamer Rou Rou. After her stream ended, her popularity reached over 30 million. More than 500,000 were actually watching live.
Streaming numbers can be misleading, inflated by big gifts and time watched. But over half a million real-time viewers? That beat 99.9% of the entire platform.
And that was with Orange Home's own stream running at the same time.
The moment the festival ended, the ten-ton bomb detonated.
"Everyone in the fandom world knows, being a fan of Jiu-yé sits at the top of the food chain. Unmatched. Unreasonably powerful. And if you want to know why? Just look at the Orange Festival."
"Little Jiu's The Sword and the Opera Lady cosplay? Absolutely stunning. Why am I always unlucky in raffles?"
"That dance was too good. If I weren't already an old Fruit, I'd swear brother Jiu had formal training."
"Teacher Kun asked how long brother Jiu had been training. Jiu-yé said 'not long.' That's impossible! I'm a dance major. You can't pull off that level without months of practice."
"Jiu-yé is so dumb. He works so hard for us in secret and never says a word. Just to make our wishes come true."
"Every little thing we say, Jiu-yé remembers. The two greatest blessings of my life? One, being born to my mother. Two, becoming a fan of Jiu-yé."
—
The Little Fruits were filled with emotion and pride. No other celebrity was doing this.
Short clips of Chu Zhi's The Sword and the Opera Lady dance went viral on Douyin with titles like:
"What Level Is This Dance?"
"Has Any Star Ever Given You Everything They Had?"
"Yu Ji and Xiang Yu: One Thought Apart"
"A Dancer Interrupted by Singing"
On Xiaohongshu, makeup creators started releasing tutorials. One popular beauty guru, The Fox Sent by the Monkeys, shared:
"I've broken down the looks of all the top stars but never did one for brother Jiu. Fans have been begging in DMs.
As someone who loves to ride trends, do you think I didn't want to? But most of the time, Jiu-yé doesn't even wear makeup. His hairstyles are super casual. I suspect his stylist just wings it. I had no material. But today, finally—this The Sword and the Opera Lady look? I got it! Let's go!"
Chu Zhi only had accounts on Twitter, Instagram, Weibo, and Douyin. That's it.
Even his Douyin presence was due to them offering a generous enough payment to bring him on board. He didn't post much, yet still had the most-followed account on the platform.
Xiaohongshu also tried to recruit him. Their offer wasn't good enough. Niu Niu rejected it.
#SecondOrangeFestival
#FandomCelebrityMasterclass
#NewSongTheSwordandtheOperaLady
Help. So many influencers crying out.
"This is a masterclass? This is divine scripture! Who can afford five million for a fan meet? Are you insane?!"
Another hashtag trended: #ShockedFanParents, sitting right at the top.
It came from a post made by Qi Qingqing's father, who had accompanied her. He shared it on his Moments feed, and she reposted it on Weibo. It blew up:
"I've seen a lot. I've traveled far and wide for over a decade. Thought I'd seen all kinds of monsters and weirdos. But today, attending this fan meet with my daughter Qingqing? I've never seen anything like it.
Qingqing kept saying, 'The Orange Festival is different, it won't cost anything.' I nodded along, but privately set aside ten thousand just in case.
Don't be fooled by that 'free' talk. In business, you always lure the customer with something sweet before you gut them. I know how it works.
But—when I got there? Besides upgrading my own seat to first class, I didn't spend a single yuan. Hotel? Booked for us, came with lunch. Dinner? A full banquet.
Snacks at the venue? Free. Souvenirs? Free. Games? Free prizes. Even shuttle buses from the venue to the hotel. Food, lodging, and transport? All free.
We left with bags packed full of gifts. Since when did the entertainment industry turn into a charity?
Have I... fallen behind?"