"#International Anti-Drug Day# Stay away from drugs. If you and I refuse drugs, then "they" can enjoy a more ordinary happiness."
The title of Liu Fusu's video was about anti-drug awareness. Maybe it was guilt, maybe something else, but his first reaction was to exit. Then he saw the comments floating across the screen.
[This song reminds me of "The Lonely Warrior."]
[Jiu-yé's songs always touch the heart.]
[Wuwuwu…]
[A must-listen song!]
A new song? Liu Fusu's finger, which was about to scroll down, suddenly froze.
Should he watch? How could he not watch his idol's new release? But still…
What drew him into Chu Zhi's fandom in the first place was the show Journey Among the Stars. The joy of the rich was something ordinary people could never imagine. The freedom of a wealthy family was something ordinary people could never imagine either. After all, Liu Fusu had grown up largely neglected by his parents.
Freedom taken too far easily leads to problems. Whenever he felt bored, Liu Fusu would waste time with his rowdy friends. In his final years of high school, he had explored every hangout near campus. Those days were wild and reckless. His parents never cared, the only downside was the money it cost.
Once, when he was sick and stuck at home, he started binge-watching variety shows out of boredom. That was when he saw Chu Zhi climbing a mountain late at night. He thought at the time, "What kind of crazy show is this? Who would watch people climb a mountain?"
But with nothing better to do, he kept watching. He wanted to see what tricks they could possibly pull.
When Chu Zhi reached the summit of Dongxu Mountain and showed the night sky, a river of stars stretched overhead. For some reason, Liu Fusu burst into tears.
He never really understood why. From that day on, he became one of the "Little Fruits."
Back to the present. Curiosity about his idol's new song outweighed his guilt.
Soft piano notes opened the video. The first words, spoken in an interview against a backdrop of darkness, stunned Liu Fusu.
"People left on their feet. They returned in a box."
The subtitles explained: In the 1990s, late one night, an armed drug trafficking group pursued their vile intentions. Once discovered, the ruthless traffickers knew capture meant the death penalty. They chose to take others down with them, detonating explosives.
The camera shifted. Vice-Captain Wang Shizhou lay in a pool of blood, a gaping wound in his chest, eight more across his abdomen, each one looking as though carved by a blade.
Another officer, Zhang Congshun, had his leg shredded beyond recognition. Even through the video, Liu Fusu could not make out its shape. Doctors rushed to save him, but he had lost too much blood. He died on the way.
🎵 "Perhaps far away, or just yesterday, here or across the shore.
Through long journeys of joy and sorrow, people gather, then scatter once more.
Only by letting go of right and wrong do we see the answer.
The courage to live on, with no halo of gods.
You and I, born ordinary." 🎵
Five anti-drug officers were lost that night. They were ordinary men, of flesh and blood.
But their radiance outshone divinity. That operation seized 19.33 kilograms of opium, building a fortress of protection for the people.
Wang Shizhou left behind his eighty-year-old mother. None of his teammates dared to tell her.
But the old woman found out anyway. Stooped and frail, she shuffled to her son's coffin. With trembling hands, she slapped his lifeless face inside the coffin.
"We agreed, didn't we? Why did you leave before me?"
Then, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and unfolded it layer by layer, revealing a few grams of silver. With hands like withered branches, she placed the silver in his mouth.
"Poor in life, but buried with silver." It was the only thing she could still do for her child.
Only after did she break down, screaming in grief that tore the air apart.
Liu Fusu switched off the comments. The mother's cry was sharper than blades, piercing straight through his chest.
🎵 "Through heartbreak I see regret.
Life is long, yet short.
A heart that beats sprouts vines,
ready to fight through danger.
Falling into darkness, into the abyss,
a face caked in mud.
With no halo of gods,
we hold tight to the ordinary." 🎵
🎵 "This heart, this life, no regrets.
The fire of life is lit." 🎵
Chu Zhi's song spoke of no regrets, of life's fire burning bright. But the video was the opposite.
The families were filled with regret. Their fires of life were extinguished.
At the memorial service, Zhang Congshun's wife clung to his hand, refusing to let go. She didn't cry. She had already cried herself hoarse when the news first came.
Wang Shizhou's daughter knelt before his portrait, staring at his black-and-white photo. "Dad, I can't see you. I can't see you, Dad!"
Every fallen officer had a family.
They were children of their mothers, fathers of their children. Each death was not just one person lost, but a family shattered.
🎵 "One day you may walk far away,
perhaps we will meet again.
Whether in crowds or across the sky,
let me see your face again.
Though tears flood my eyes,
silent and wordless,
I need no halo of gods,
only your ordinary self." 🎵
The singing was soft, like a lullaby, as if the fallen could awaken again.
But they could not.
Liu Fusu's chest tightened as if his ribs were under crushing weight. He reopened the comments, desperate for distraction.
Most were cries of [Wuwuwu] or [5555], but one stood out.
[Anti-drug police families usually never show their faces, to avoid traffickers' revenge. Unless… they are no longer alive.]
[Then why did that child appear on camera?]
Two urgent comments, clearly typed by the same person.
They referred to the scene where Zhang Congshun's third son, Zhang Ziquan, appeared under dim light, wiping tears as he said:
"When I see my daddy's photo, I just want to cry."
He was only ten. His father was already gone.
Yes, it was dangerous. Why show him? Liu Fusu wanted to know too.
🎵 "Through heartbreak I see regret.
Life is long, yet short.
A heart that beats sprouts vines,
ready to fight through danger.
Falling into darkness, into the abyss,
a face caked in mud.
With no halo of gods,
we hold tight to the ordinary." 🎵
The voice was small, yet filled with strength. As though pouring every ounce of force into the softest sound.
The answer came with the next scene.
A little girl's voice: "Why does Daddy's photo have no color?"
Why was Zhang Ziquan's childhood face shown so freely? Because, as the comment said, unless he too was no longer alive.
He too had become an anti-drug officer. During an investigation, illness struck suddenly. He died in service at thirty-six.
"I didn't deliberately choose this path. I just felt… I had to. I was meant to be a policeman," Zhang Ziquan once said.
The Zhang family: four officers, two martyrs. It sounded heroic, but the pain beneath was immense.
Chu Zhi understood this deeply.
When Zhang passed away, his daughter Ling Ling was still very young. She kept sending her father messages, still waiting for him to come home.
This was what Zhang's wife said. She did not show her face, only her trembling voice. There is no such thing as true empathy in the world, but her words crushed the viewers' hearts as if ripped out and stomped upon.
🎵 "One day you may walk far away,
perhaps we will meet again.
Whether in crowds or across the sky,
let me see your face again.
Though tears flood my eyes,
silent and wordless." 🎵
What followed was a montage: footage from officers' body cameras, real gunfights, car collisions with traffickers.
Cases of grievous injuries: Officer Tao was rammed by traffickers' car, his leg still held together by steel plates. Officer Yang suffered grenade shrapnel in his skull, surgery lasted eight hours. Officer Zhang's palm pierced by bullets. Officer Su's tibia and fibula shattered. Officer Diao took a bullet to the abdomen, losing ten centimeters of intestines.
Each case proved one thing: anti-drug police were only human. Flesh and blood.
Survivors could not show their faces on camera. The dead had no epitaph.
🎵 "I need no halo of gods,
only your ordinary self.
This heart, this life, no regrets.
The fire of life is lit." 🎵
Throughout the video, Chu Zhi never showed his face. Only at the very end, he held up a poster:
[Every year, anti-drug police sacrifice their lives at a rate 4.9 times higher than other police. Their injury rate is ten times higher.
Every penny spent on drugs is another bullet shot into the bodies of anti-drug police.
Stay away from drugs. Let them have an "ordinary" life.]
Chu Zhi knew another song, The Lonely Warrior, might have suited better, praising bravery. But more than that, he wished they could simply live in peace.
As the outro played softly, the poster faded into images of city life: families dining together, bustling traffic, happiness.
The video ended.
Liu Fusu sat frozen, like a puppet suddenly animated, stiffly scrolling to the comments.
[So much suffering, and even after death they remain nameless. Only endless rows of graves. I can't hold it in anymore.]
[Does this mean every hero who showed their face in the video… has already passed away?]
[I once saw this question on Zhihu: "Why would anyone still choose to be an anti-drug officer?" Perhaps it's like Lu Xun said: I offer my blood to protect China.]
[This song is called Only the Ordinary. For anti-drug police, being ordinary is too difficult. Please, don't touch drugs. Without demand, they could live simple lives.]
Suddenly, Liu Fusu snapped out of his daze. He slapped himself.
Slap, slap, slap, slap!
"Stupid bastard! You idiot! Why did you take that stuff?" he cursed himself between blows.
But after four slaps, he stopped. His face stung too much.
Even so, he kept muttering self-reproach. He regretted it deeply. That poster struck hardest: ordinariness, something most people already had, was beyond reach for so many.
And that simple ordinariness was bought with the blood and lives of those officers.
"I can't take it again." He thought of a plan: he would get a dog. They said pets could help with drug cravings.
How many others would Chu Zhi's video pull back from the edge?
Many "Little Fruits" swore off drugs after watching.
On Douyin, Bilibili, Weibo, Orange Home, the video spread everywhere. As the country's largest online platform, it went viral instantly.
Every year had its International Anti-Drug Day, but never with such impact.
China's official anti-drug pages reposted it: "China Anti-Drug Online," "Shancheng Anti-Drug," "Magic City Anti-Drug."
Other celebrities followed suit, like Lin Xia, Tao Luo, and Xi Yao, sparking even more attention.
Chu Zhi had succeeded. Celebrities should lead by example. Forget drugs, even prostitution was impossible for him. As the "Emperor Beast," he held himself to perfection.
Do things to the extreme. That afternoon, Chu Zhi posted on Weibo:
Eat a Big Orange: "Drug-addicted artists have no right to return to the entertainment industry, unless the fallen anti-drug police rise from the dead.
A sweeping statement.
How many stars were caught using drugs every year?
On Earth: certain actors and singers, exposed by the public.
In this parallel world: Zhang Dou, Wang Jieyuan, Feng Mingming, Tang Beicao, and others.
There were always at least two mid-level stars caught each year, just from public reporting. How many more lurked in the shadows?
At least hundreds of people felt targeted by Chu Zhi's words.
They were furious.
Why meddle? You're not the entertainment industry's watchdog. Who gave you the right?
Some even prepared to clap back. But in the end, they deleted their replies.
Why? Because Chu Zhi's fanbase was too massive. They would be crushed.
Besides, they knew in their hearts—they had committed "a little mistake."
Most stayed silent. But one folk singer, Tang Beicao, snapped.
His songs were never that popular, but when contestants performed them on shows like I Am a Singer and Riding the Wind and Waves of the Brothers, his name rose.
Singer Beicao: "As singers, we live under the expectations of fans and the spotlight. Depression is common. When traffickers hand you a drug disguised as candy in a moment of weakness, we are victims too.
As victims, do we not deserve another chance? Must a single mistake condemn us forever, nailed to the pillar of shame? @Eat a Big Orange"
He was panicked. He had been arrested two years ago, detained for ten days, and fined. Slowly, he had returned to music festivals and shows. Now he was preparing a stadium concert. If Chu Zhi's storm grew, his career would collapse.
The Emperor Beast never expected someone would dare to jump out. But he did not even need to act.
Within seconds of Tang Beicao tagging Chu Zhi, the counterattack began.
White Shirt Bow: [Wow, that's some mental gymnastics. Did brother Jiu say you couldn't live again? Work in a factory, carry bricks at a construction site, no one stops you. But why return as a public figure? What gives you the right?]
Fishing in Genshin: [Calling singers a "depression disaster zone" is laughable. As if other jobs aren't tough? Even if entertainment is stressful, you earn far more. If you feel wronged, no one forced you into this career.]
Xiaofeng Zhenren: [The difference between people is huge. Brother Jiu is also a singer, and he suffers from severe depression. Stop using depression as an excuse.]
Starlight Glow: [Agree one thousand percent. You can live again, but don't come back as a celebrity.]
Every minute, hundreds more comments flooded in.
#ChuZhiDeclares: Drug-Addicted Artists Should Not Return#
#TangBeicaoChallengesChuZhi#
Both hashtags shot into the top five. The earlier ones were #ChuZhiOnlytheOrdinary# and #NationalAntiDrugAwareness#.
The morning's video had already primed the crowd. Tang Beicao leapt right into the fire. The backlash was overwhelming.
Some argued logically. Others hurled abuse. Within forty minutes, Tang Beicao had to shut his comments.
"A bunch of idiots," he muttered. Even with reposts cursing him, he sneered. "So what? They hate me but can't get rid of me."
But soon, he could no longer laugh.
That very night, he received notice: his Shanghai concert approval was revoked.
The cultural bureau explained:
[Large-scale performances will not be approved for immoral individuals or companies that enable unlawful or unethical behavior.]
"Fuck!" he cursed. He had already passed preliminary approval. He was about to notify public security. Now suddenly, it was denied? Someone was pulling strings.
Tang Beicao raged. He had already paid fines, served detention, paid the price. Why could he not perform?
Deep down, he knew. His singing career was over.
Later that night. Inside Chu Zhi's nanny van.
Present: Chu Zhi, Wang Yuan, Xiao Zhuzi, Ma Weihao, Lao Qian, plus driver Qiu.
"Seriously, are these people just too rich and bored?" Wang Yuan scrolled online. "They want thrills? Go do extreme sports! Red Bull says 'your death will surprise you.'"
"They're cowards," Lao Qian replied. "Do you think they dare do extreme sports? They only want the easy thrill, with no moral or legal restraint."
"Unless framed, any adult who chooses drugs has no excuse," Wang Yuan said firmly.
The two raged on. Chu Zhi sat with eyes closed, enjoying Ma Weihao's massage. He had just restructured the company, draining his energy.
Next he would head to the recording studio to finish Legend, then fly to Yang City to plan the Hanfu Festival. As the Honorary Chairman of the Hanfu Cultural Promotion Association, fame brought endless positions.