Because of his position as a personal consultant, and with strong approval from official channels, Chu Zhi was able to obtain a great deal of video material from the Armed Police Corps. Before watching, Chu Zhi had already prepared himself mentally, yet after going through some of the footage, tears still slipped down his face.
"An addict star may turn their life around, but they have no right to return to the stage." Chu Zhi drew in a deep breath. From the material, he also confirmed one circulating rumor: that fallen narcotics officers could not have their names inscribed on monuments.
The truth was that monuments could indeed be erected, but for the safety of their families, names could not be carved. Families could only mourn in front of a stone marked with the words "Tomb of a Martyr."
It was no exaggeration to say that retaliation against a fallen narcotics officer's family was a real concern. The humanity of drug traffickers and addicts was steadily eroded.
According to data from the Ministry of Public Security, the average life expectancy of such people was only forty-one years. It was after seeing such numbers that Chu Zhi firmly believed celebrities, as public figures, had no right to make a comeback and profit again.
"Can these video materials really be released online? Won't it bring trouble?" Chu Zhi directly called his contact in the Corps, voicing his concern. Some of the footage included interviews with a former squad leader. Though his face was not shown, his voice was.
The head of the Publicity Office at the Beijing Corps gave a definite reply. "All the material we provided is already cleared for public release. Consultant Chu can use it without worry."
"Thank you," said Chu Zhi politely.
"The Corps is looking forward to your work," the officer added before hanging up.
Every year, China marks International Day Against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking. Campaigns and documentaries are routinely produced. But this was the first time a top-tier celebrity like Chu Zhi had voluntarily taken up such a project. No wonder the Corps was anticipating it.
A little-known fact: in this parallel world, the Corps commanders of Beijing and Xin Province held the rank of full general.
That morning, Chu Zhi reviewed the material and selected a suitable song. By afternoon, he was already flying to Yingtian City, destination: the Broadcasting Complex in Gulou District. It was Lychee TV's anniversary gala, and his closing performance was "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky."
The five hundred audience members in the studio were all arranged by the television station to ensure the right atmosphere for the live broadcast. Nothing remarkable happened during this trip.
That said, the Strawberry Music Festival's stop in Gui City still stirred up waves. On the internet, especially on Douyin, countless fan-shot clips appeared. Of course, ninety percent of them featured Chu Zhi, while the remaining ten percent covered other singers.
"Mama, Papa, this man holds me in his heart, he wants to run away with me."
"Take me with you, I'll go anywhere!"
"In this beautiful world, no one is an orphan, because as long as brother Jiu is here, the world is beautiful."
The songs most widely discussed were "Orphan of a Beautiful World" and "Elopement." The latter was practically a spell. Many of the Little Fruits regretted not hearing their idol's live "confession," especially those who had scalped their tickets at high prices.
"Barbecue, I was weak-willed. I should've held onto my ticket just a bit longer."
Little Fruit Lin Tong was one such regretful fan. To ease his gloom, he stuffed himself with snacks—piles of them covering the table: pickled chicken feet, beef jerky, lime-flavored chips, spicy sticks, and more. All bought with the five thousand yuan he had made selling his ticket. Not to mention, he had been gorging on buffets for half a month.
"What's the point of selling my ticket for 5,300 yuan? All I did was eat and drink. I've even gained a few pounds. It's sinful!
If I hadn't sold it, I could've been there. I could've let Jiu-yé run away with me."
Although Lin Tong was male, if the one running away with him was Jiu-yé, well, that wasn't impossible…
Ah! The weight of regret made it hard to breathe. Lin Tong angrily tore through two more packs of beef jerky and a bag of crispy corn twists, turning sorrow into appetite.
As he scrolled through Weibo fan videos, trying to cheer himself up, another push notification popped up.
[Guangming Daily, October 14 (reporter Xu Shan) — On October 12 and 13, the final stop of the 2022 Strawberry Music Festival was successfully held on Shugu Avenue, Gui City, attracting more than 30,000 fans who gathered to enjoy music and happiness.
This Gui City Strawberry Music Festival brought together many outstanding artists and bands, including Chu Zhi, Upward Band, Flying Pig Riders, Sour Grapes Band…
(...)
Held over two days, each lasting eight hours, the festival drew more than 30,000 fans, most of them young people with disposable income. Among them were thousands from South Korea, Japan, and Vietnam.
"The Strawberry Music Festival has gradually become a national music calling card. It is also the first domestic festival to break through internationally, carrying influence across Asia," said Modern Sky chairman and CEO Fei Hua in an interview.]
The report, titled "Strawberry Music Festival Successfully Breaks Out!", appeared as a secondary front-page headline in Guangming Daily and was widely reposted by self-media.
It was undoubtedly a paid press release by CEO Fei Hua, designed to promote the brand. With hundreds of music festivals across the country, building recognition was crucial.
But Fei Hua was clear-headed. Without the golden opportunity that was Chu Zhi, there would have been no flood of overseas fans.
Aside from officially sponsored festivals, like Ice City Summer, most held no appeal abroad.
"Xie Yao's new drama got picked up in South Korea and is now supposedly a hit there? Please, I can't help but laugh." Fei Hua saw another push notification but didn't bother clicking.
"These domestic traffic stars puff themselves up abroad, but it's all hollow. The real Asian superstar is Chu Zhi."
Fei Hua knew well that foreign fans had paid thousands for scalped tickets. For a celebrity to reach that level? There was nothing more to say. He was convinced.
After impressing CEO Fei Hua, Chu Zhi stayed in Yingtian City for the night following the gala. Deputy Director Li of Lychee TV, who was also head of the Advertising and Economic Information Center, hosted a dinner in his honor.
Coincidentally, Chu Zhi's last MV was set to be filmed at Lake Tai. The next day, as Chu Zhi was preparing to leave, Deputy Director Li learned of this and warmly offered help.
"Having Xiaoli as a guide will make things much easier. Teacher Chu, don't refuse. It'll help with your shoot too." With Deputy Director Li's persistent persuasion, Chu Zhi accepted the offer.
The Xiaoli he mentioned was Li Weihang, star reporter of News Eye, known for her sweet looks and courteous manner.
During one interview with a sick child, she had crouched for the entire duration, earning her a certain amount of fame online.
To be frank, even though Lychee TV was not on par with Blueberry TV, it was still ranked among the top ten nationally. A deputy director held the equivalent of a deputy bureau-level post, with the station itself serving as a gateway to the entertainment industry's upper circles. Normally, neither up-and-coming stars nor even veteran artists were enough to make someone like Deputy Director Li bother. Only those with titles like "National People's Congress Delegate" were exceptions.
The only reason Deputy Director Li was actively extending favors to Chu Zhi was because of his honorary title: Consultant to the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.
For a celebrity to hold such a post was unheard of. Not even established artists could claim it. It was almost unimaginable.