Al-Rahat downloaded Chu Zhi's new album on Apple Music. After listening to all ten tracks, he thought—too noisy. Not his style. He preferred quieter songs, like country ballads.
But he could not deny the rhythms were tight, balancing pop and hard rock, artistic yet mainstream.
The lyrics were positive too.
"Chu Zhi is completely different from the Chinese singers I expected," Al-Rahat said. By his impression, most Chinese singers were skilled high-pitched vocalists.
He then searched Apple Music for the song nominated as the World Cup theme, We Will Rock You, but could not find it. (The source was on Fuji Rock's official site.)
Instead, he found Chu Zhi's live performance online. The sites were all in Japanese.
Al-Rahat opened Safari's built-in translator and pieced together the festival performance.
He saw synchronized clapping and stomping, the provocative lyrics…
He imagined the World Cup opening ceremony, the stadium full of people doing the same moves—it would explode!
Even though Al-Rahat still found the song noisy, he had to admit it was perfect for a large-scale opening ceremony.
"Even if Chu Zhi were an alien, We Will Rock You must be this World Cup's theme song," Al-Rahat declared.
Of course, even if excited, he would wait until the next day to speak. As a German mix, punctuality was well-known. Work ended when work ended.
The next day, before Gazi and Firas could speak, Al-Rahat expressed full agreement with yesterday's proposal, leaving Firas speechless.
Yesterday, his stance had seemed firm. Today, it had completely changed.
"Great! I'll contact Mr. Chu Zhi's manager immediately," Gazi said, excitement written all over his face.
He left right after speaking, leaving Firas and Al-Rahat staring at each other in surprise.
Chief supervisor Gazi originally had many responsibilities but had delegated most to his elite subordinates.
He had learned a valuable lesson in school: "Never pretend to understand and command blindly. Top armies, second-rate generals, third-rate commanders are lessons of the past."
Now, the situation was simple: Gazi handled approvals and funding, while the main responsibility was inviting Chu Zhi.
The World Cup, a rare global event hosted in Qatar, demanded extravagance. The royal family approved an astonishing budget: 750 billion Qatari riyals.
To put it in perspective, 750 billion Qatari riyals is roughly 200 billion U.S. dollars.
For the Qatari royal family, recovering costs was secondary. What mattered was enjoyment.
"Hello, Ms. Niu Jiangxue. I am Gazi bin Dumuha Al-Sani, chief executive of the 2023 Qatar World Cup project," Gazi said as he dialed Niu Jiangxue's phone.
Niu Jiangxue's collaborators fell into two types: those with money but no connections, contacted via the official business email; and those with connections, who could call her directly. This call clearly belonged to the latter.
"We hope to invite Mr. Chu Zhi as a guest performer for the opening ceremony. We Will Rock You would be the World Cup theme song. We hope Mr. Chu Zhi is available," Gazi said directly.
Opening ceremony guest performer? Theme song? Niu Jiangxue's eyes flickered. Two keywords made her slightly excited.
The World Cup theme song might not become globally viral, but it was an enormous platform, boosting exposure.
Niu Jiangxue first verified Gazi's identity and confirmed the artist's schedule before discussing terms.
Even if the price were low, brave Niu Jiangxue could accept the deal. But events progressed beyond her imagination.
The opening ceremony would invite multiple international stars.
Under Gazi's authority, Chu Zhi received a T1-level invitation fee, with top-tier treatment guaranteed.
Thinking carefully, why would Gazi, born with a silver spoon, devote himself so completely to fangirling?
The main reason: Chu Zhi's fan festival.
Back when he chased a girl—a Little Fruit—she wanted to attend the Orange Festival.
Worldwide, courting someone by following their interests is common. Gazi tried to buy two tickets with money but could not bypass the official lottery.
Undeterred, this caught his attention. What could money not solve in this world?
Gazi believed the problem was only that the money was insufficient. He posted in the Orange Home message board, offering 5 million yuan for a ticket. At this point, it wasn't just about chasing a girl—it was also about childhood indulgence: getting anything you wanted.
Compared to spending tens of millions of dollars on a sports car, Gazi's spending was "economical."
Chu Zhi and his company could not refuse. Someone willing to pay five million for a fan festival spot was great publicity.
But unexpectedly, Gazi received a reply:
Orchard Farmer: "Thank you, Little Fruits, for supporting brother Jiu. The Orange Festival is for fans. Each session only has 300 spots, and to ensure fairness, the lottery must be strictly followed. Thank you again for supporting JHW."
Refused? Even with five million on the table? Gazi could hardly believe it. For fairness, why not add one extra spot? Who would mind the extra money?
From that moment, Gazi noticed Chu Zhi and gradually became captivated by his charisma.
Last year at the Strawberry Music Festival, he spent a fortune on tickets. Gazi was grateful to have foreign citizenship; otherwise, even paying more would not work.
Chu Zhi had no idea a Little Fruit had thrown money at him. He was exhausted—more exhausted than giving himself five consecutive rewards.
"Westerners love banquets too much," Chu Zhi muttered. A veteran in the industry, two weeks in New York still wore him out with endless banquets.
"Hollywood is like that. Walk the red carpet and you enter the fame game. Once famous, invitations and reputation flood in," Lao Qian said. He didn't finish his sentence—why so many people worldwide try to break into the entertainment industry.
"But there are rewards," Lao Qian added.
Rewards—if what Canadian director Cameron said was true, then some reward existed.
But investing hundreds of millions in a film? No way would a Chinese actor take the lead. Even if Cameron went mad, 21st Century Fox would never allow it.
Chu Zhi did not hope for too much.
"Too bad the two foreign art films were odd. Otherwise, running both film and music in Hollywood would be great," Lao Qian said.
He referred to Bargoin's script The Charm of Sicily and Joseph's adaptation Death in Venice.
Chu Zhi focused on singing. If a suitable film came along, he would act. Otherwise, "Tomorrow I can return home. I miss my country."
He missed his motherland and the foods: spicy frog fish head, hotpot skewers, tyrant rabbit, spicy chicken, and mala crayfish.
"I also miss my Bing Bing. She must miss me too," Lao Qian said.
Love-sick men gave off a pungent aura.
"Oh right, I almost forgot. Boss Wang asked me about songs for May. Have you prepared?" Lao Qian changed the topic.
"I've prepared two songs, depending on the situation," Chu Zhi replied.
"As long as you're prepared. Jiu-yé, your level is top-notch. You can attend national-level events," Lao Qian said admiringly.
"Low profile. We stay low profile," Chu Zhi said.
Wang Yuan left a few days early to handle matters back home.
In New York, only Chu Zhi, Lao Qian, and Little Bamboo remained.
Night fell. Returning to the hotel at 10:30 PM, luckily Chu Zhi had called ahead.
The owner-chef of a Chinese restaurant in New York brought a pot of stew: beef, pork offal, not about taste—must be spicy enough, as Emperor Beast ordered.
Chu Zhi laid bath towels on the floor, arranged cushions, sat in a row, and dug in. The taste was fine.
They drank too.
Flying Maotai purchased at Kennedy Airport, twice the domestic price, over 3,000 yuan per bottle.
Prices vary worldwide; cheapest was likely Rome, Italy, probably proportional to local Chinese population.
The loneliness of night vanished in feasting.
The next day.
Sunlight like a deer stepped on Chu Zhi's forehead. He awoke from the sofa, head aching slightly, surveying the messy room—luckily, the carpet was clean.
Chu Zhi had turned off his phone while drunk. Now he powered it on.
Last night was not indulgence—it was coin farming. He completed two achievements: [Eat Spicy Food 2500 times] and [Hangover 25].
Earned sixteen personality coins. Holding 28 in total, Chu Zhi was elated, the headache much reduced.
"Draw twice!" Chu Zhi firmly told the system.
Then he checked the prize pool:
[Enchanting Voice]
[Rare Item: No Slimming Milk Tea]
[Title: Fox Spirit]
[Until the End of the World Gift Pack]
[Don't Cry for Me Argentina Gift Pack]
[Special Grand Prize: Hua Yanjun Erhu Talent]
"No Slimming Milk Tea? What the hell? If I use this, I'll get killed," Chu Zhi muttered.
Its effect: drink it and never lose weight.
There was a famous Japanese song. The system, eager to help, knew he was missing a Japanese album, so it gave him Until the End of the World.
The ending song from Slam Dunk, nostalgic bonus included. Remove nostalgia, still very pleasant.
Huh? Don't Cry for Me Argentina appeared too. Chu Zhi knew the Chinese title well: Argentina, Do Not Cry for Me.
"Fox Spirit is just an epic-level title. Small price for increased charm, but I'd rather not get it. Too blessed to enjoy," Chu Zhi said.
Even if Chu Zhi's appearance was handsome enough, who would complain about high charm?
The downside: gaining charm also gave body odor.
===
Until the End of the World – 世界 が 終わる まで は "Sekai ga Owaru made wa…" – Original artist: WANDS
Don't Cry for Me Argentina – Original artist: Madonna