[The boss is happy tonight, everything's 20% off!]
Gu Peng headed out late at night for a snack. He loved the grilled eggplant at the barbecue stall near his apartment. The moment he walked up, he spotted a handwritten signboard standing tall. He never ate much in one go, usually just spent a little over a hundred on late-night snacks. With the discount, he'd save twenty or thirty yuan.
That was badass. He could order extra tea eggs. He couldn't help but wonder what the occasion was, but since he was shy in real life, he didn't dare interrupt the boss who was busy grilling skewers.
Curious yet socially anxious, he got lucky when someone else asked first.
"Boss, table thirteen wants the bill."
"20% off."
"What's the occasion today? Why's everything discounted?"
Another customer was checking out.
"We're celebrating our country's star Chu Zhi safely leaving the hospital," the chubby stall owner said.
"Oh?" Gu Peng tugged his baseball cap lower and listened carefully. The mention of Chu Zhi instantly woke him up.
"Didn't think you were a Little Fruits, boss," the customer teased.
"Haha, no, not me," the boss waved it off. "My wife's a Little Fruits. When she's happy, I get more allowance. When I get more allowance, I'm happy. So today, we celebrate."
Made perfect sense.
Hearing that made Gu Peng happy too. Normally he ate about 120 or 130 yuan worth of barbecue, but tonight he went all the way to 180.
Chu Zhi's movie Shiyi Lang had a classic line: A smile brings eternal spring, a cry brings eternal sorrow.
And just like in the movies, life imitated art. When he was in a coma, the entire Asian internet felt like it was covered in a gray veil. Even the goofy meme girls and dirty-joke veterans stopped posting. Now that he'd recovered and been discharged, at least in China, it felt like a sudden holiday.
Check it out:
The hotpot place announced, "My daughter's idol is out of the hospital, so she's decided that everyone who eats here today gets a free plate of duck intestines!"
The barbecue restaurant put up, "Warmly celebrating Jiu-yé's discharge, all meat skewers start at 20% off!"
A hotel posted, "Heaven bless brother Jiu, 30% off for couples who stay today!"
Everywhere you looked, businesses were posting similar notices. It really felt like a festival. Of course, some were just riding the hype, like "Celebrating my ex-husband's idol's discharge, 2% off." Which was basically no discount at all.
The date was July 25. Strictly speaking, it wasn't discharge. Chu Zhi was being transferred from New York's Langone Medical Center to Huashan Hospital, affiliated with Fudan University in Shanghai. Huashan was the best in the country for rehabilitation.
At the start of his hospitalization, leaders sent people to visit him. Playing Emperor Beast in real life, though, meant putting on a show, and it left him exhausted while still recovering.
The hospital president and department heads set up a recovery plan. Chu Zhi was wary of being treated like a lab rat, so even though he'd used strange artifacts, his recovery was intentionally slow.
"Brother System, can I buy another stand-in salamander from the strange-item shop? Feels a bit dangerous," Chu Zhi asked.
[Sorry, host, all strange items are unique.]
"Then is there any other life-saving trinket?" he pressed.
[Sorry, host, no.]
"Alright." He used three personality coins to buy a bird of paradise, leaving 56 in his stash.
About a week later, a special guest arrived.
The man was in his forties, burly, with a soldier's bearing. His looks were plain, the kind you'd lose in a crowd, but Emperor Beast didn't underestimate him.
Minister Zuo introduced him respectfully as Bureau Chief Wu.
Now, Minister Zuo was the head of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. For him to show such respect, what kind of unit did Bureau Chief Wu belong to? Strange.
"Counselor Chu, how's your health?" Chief Wu asked kindly.
"The doctors and nurses here are great. I think with another month or two, I'll be ready to leave," Chu Zhi said.
"Compared to a week ago, you look much better," Minister Zuo noted.
"It's best to listen to the doctors about discharge. Health comes first," Chief Wu said plainly. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
"Please, go ahead," Chu Zhi replied.
"World culture is the sum of all cultures. Ideally, every culture would flourish, but there are too few voices, and those who hold the mic often don't want to hear others. With your global popularity, you have the ability to express and represent. But that also makes you vulnerable. The assassination was a wake-up call. We know Aiguo hired bodyguards for you, but their capabilities are limited. In an emergency, they might not be able to stop an attack in time.
Please rest assured, Counselor Chu. We're professionals in security. We won't interfere with your normal schedule," Chief Wu said firmly.
Aiguo had hired Kung Fu Bodyguards. The name was cheesy, but they were top ten in the world. The White House incident wasn't their fault, since they weren't even allowed in.
"If it's not too much trouble, I'd really appreciate it," Chu Zhi replied.
The sharp look in Chief Wu's eyes made Emperor Beast instantly aware of his weight.
Chief Wu introduced Xu Xiang and Huang Yinguo. The first had guarded a national leader during a trip to Cambodia. The second was a Zhongnanhai security officer. Both had second-class merits.
No exaggeration, Chu Zhi's first thought was, "Do I really deserve this?"
"Brother Huang, Brother Xu, I'll be in your care from now on," he said.
They exchanged greetings. Clearly, Chu Zhi's opinion didn't matter. Since the State Council had sent them, it meant in the eyes of the leadership, he did deserve it.
The guards carried firearm permits, their salaries paid by the state. Chu Zhi only needed to provide meals. He was still healing, so after the formal talk, Chief Wu and Minister Zuo excused themselves.
"If your health isn't good enough, you can skip the cultural summary meeting. Your body comes first," Minister Zuo reminded before leaving.
They were sent out by Xiao Zuzhi at the door.
Walking away from the hospital, both men were deep in thought. A vice-ministerial post at not even thirty, even if just honorary, was unheard of in peacetime. Coupled with Zhongnanhai guards, it was surreal.
"Unbelievable, isn't it?"
"Unbelievable."
They locked eyes, both knowing exactly what the other meant.
"Counselor Chu's case is a one-in-a-million exception," Minister Zuo said. "At first I thought it was nonsense to give a young star such a rank. But one incident changed my mind."
"Go on," Chief Wu said, fully attentive.
"Not long ago, during a Sino-Japanese classical culture exchange, the Palace Museum wanted to borrow a Southern Song Ru kiln celadon vase with phoenix handles. The piece was stolen from us in the past, once held by Japan's imperial family, now in the Kuboso Memorial Museum in Osaka. It's never loaned out."
"Even with the exchange, the museum director refused." Minister Zuo was angry just recalling it. These were Chinese treasures.
"And because of Counselor Chu?" Chief Wu asked, surprised.
"One of Counselor Chu's fans is from the Sumitomo clan, the museum's biggest donor. That's how it happened," Minister Zuo explained.
He added, "Public opposition was another reason, but once they heard it was Chu Zhi, no one objected."
Chief Wu had heard that princesses from several countries were fans. Now it seemed Chu Zhi's reach was global, far wider than he'd imagined.
"Between nations, interests come first. But when interests aren't at stake, someone like Counselor Chu brings enormous visible and invisible benefits to the country," Chief Wu concluded. "No wonder he needs protection. He's too special."
"He hurt his lungs. Who knows if he'll ever sing again," Minister Zuo worried.
A few days later, Aiguo made a new announcement:
[Farmer's Notice:
Chu Zhi and all Aiguo staff sincerely apologize to the 300 Little Fruits who won the Orange Festival lottery. Due to the artist's health, the 6th Orange Festival on September 6, 2025, is postponed.
We expect to reschedule in 2026. Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience.]
Since the fans were Little Fruits, the app called itself the "Farmer."
"Rest well, Jiu-yé. Health comes first."
"As the saying goes, bones take a hundred days to heal. And this was a gunshot wound. Delay's fine, it doesn't matter. I didn't win anyway."
"Damn, I actually won! I really wanted to attend, but what matters most is Jiu-yé getting healthy."
"Baby, listen to the doctors, do your rehab properly, rest well, and don't let yourself have lasting issues."
The announcement didn't surprise fans. He'd only returned from New York in late July. Holding a festival in early September was impossible.
The delay was expected. What worried them more was something else.
The 8th anniversary global concert tour. The first stop was in Shanghai. Tickets hadn't gone on sale yet, but anticipation was sky-high.
CloudRainbow: "I asked my grandpa, he's a doctor in preventive care. He said an abdominal gunshot wound needs six months to recover. It's not the right time, but… does this mean the anniversary tour's canceled?"
mleemlee: "A concert needs massive stamina. Even just two hours without encores is tough. If Jiu-yé can't, then he can't."
Mystery: "Canceling might be the best choice."