The five guests invited to Idol Forward! were ranked purely by popularity, roughly as follows:
T1: Lin Xia
T2: Han Lulu, Nam Kui
T3: Gu Peng, Chen Qihua
The ranking was based entirely on fanbase size, not achievements in music or singing ability.
Right now, the four biggest stars—Zhou, Lin, Meng, and Sun—were considered T0 level. Lin Xia was just one step below. As for Chu Zhi, he wasn't even on the same chart. If the rest were ranked with numbers, then his rank would be written in Chinese characters. They weren't even in the same dimension.
The production team asked the guests to coordinate with promotions two weeks ahead of release, so anticipation was high, especially among younger fangirls. Many were drawn in by the styling photos posted on iQIYI's official account.
When the show dropped, the episodes were listed as:
Episode 1:Dream Chasers' First Stage (Part 1)
Episode 2:Dream Chasers' First Stage (Part 2)
Dream House Diary:Only the Obsessed Succeed
The third one was a spin-off, a behind-the-scenes show featuring daily dorm life and casual mealtime chats.
Each of the main episodes ran for about 118 minutes. Nobody knew why variety shows kept getting longer, just like nobody understood why apps kept getting bigger.
You could tell who had the most fans just by watching the live comments fly across the screen:
[Here for my Feifei!][It's been forever since I heard Feifei sing. Hope the show lets her perform more songs!]
[Didn't Chen and Han have beef before? Wow, the producers are stirring things up.]
[Captain Scarlet forever the GOAT.]
It was obvious why the show invited internet celebrities instead of professional singers. Ordinary people wouldn't watch unless the theme matched their taste perfectly. Only fangirls had the time and patience to follow every episode religiously.
Watching both episodes back-to-back would take at least three hours, even with playback speed doubled.
That night, iQIYI bought more than ten trending hashtags:
#IdolForwardMentorStage
#GuPengCritiquesRemix
#IdolForwardInternationalShowcase
#ChuZhiWritesSongForTrainee
#IdolForwardNoGroupDebut
#MiaoChenClownStage
#StreetDanceChampionTomano
#KinoshitaHidesJapaneseAccent
There were plenty more, but there was no need to list them all. The current marketing strategy was simple—spam every trend with money.
Out of those trends, two actually broke out of fan circles and caught the public's attention: one involved Chu Zhi, and the other was about Gu Peng losing his temper.
Among the trainees, several also gained attention for their performances: Miao Chen, Tomano, Wang Xiaoxiao, Kinoshita Akihiro, and Zong Lavimon. Each reached around half a million followers on Weibo.
Of the six, Miao Chen was the most controversial. On one hand, he already had fans since he was the first trainee signed under Aiguo Media, and he'd performed Chu Zhi's new song, so Little Fruits naturally supported him. On the other hand, his stage was so chaotic it lacked any aesthetic appeal. Some people loved his madness, but others just found it bizarre.
[The song Blueprint is great. The peach blossom verse at the end gave me chills, but I still can't bring myself to like Miao Chen.]
[I think it's amazing. Totally relatable—I'm just a clown driven insane by life.]
[He got the highest score out of fifty contestants, but honestly, ninety percent of that was the song. Try another one and see if flailing around like a ghost still works.]
[If you watched Dream House Diary, you'd know that stage was specifically designed around that song.]
[Thanks for the info. In that case, I'd say it's a design failure.]
Controversy filled the comments, and that was exactly what variety shows thrived on.
Meanwhile, major agencies quickly set up fan support groups for their trainees and ramped up online promotions, which only made the show even hotter.
Soon, a bunch of sponsors came knocking, eager to squeeze in their ads.
In today's idol survival shows, those ads even counted as "resources" for the contestants—everyone benefited.
Che Lun, one of the producers, praised the Idol Forward team and handed out bonuses. The more profitable the show was, the more influence he had with shareholders.
He chuckled, eyes gleaming with nostalgia. "My Xiao Jiu's still the best. Years ago, we created the phenomenon Journey Among the Stars together, and now he's conquered the world again with Idol Forward!"
In his mind, he'd already decided that Miao Chen would make it into the top four. Even if Chu Zhi hadn't asked for special treatment, as long as the kid didn't completely flop, he'd be pushed forward.
Che Lun's logic made sense, but if a trainee handpicked by Aiguo Media needed backstage manipulation just to reach the top four, then what was the point of signing him in the first place?
While the public argued over the show, the music industry had its own reaction. Just as Chu Zhi expected, his inbox was soon flooded with songwriting requests.
"Over thirty artists in just two or three days, both people I know and people I don't," he muttered, scrolling through the emails.
And that was only from those who had his contact info. Who knew how many more wanted to reach him but couldn't find a way?
He paused when he spotted a familiar name—Zheng Huo, who'd retired a few years ago. "Didn't Brother Zheng retire? Why's he asking me for a song?"
The Emperor Beast dialed his number. As soon as Zheng Huo answered, his raspy voice came through the line, already anticipating the question.
"I've wanted to work with you for years," Zheng Huo said. "Things just kept getting in the way. Yesterday my agent told me you're writing songs again, so I figured I'd give it a shot."
It was true. Zheng Huo and Xu Ji had both been mentoring new rock talents, and Zheng Huo had always admired Chu Zhi, hoping to nudge him toward rock music someday.
"I've actually got a song that might fit us perfectly," Chu Zhi said.
"Oh? What's it called? Do you have the sheet music? Send it over so I can take a look," Zheng Huo replied eagerly.
"There's a simple score. I'll send it soon."
They chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. With trains, the internet, and smartphones making everything easier, it was ironic that everyone was still too busy to meet. Even a short call had become a luxury.
Chu Zhi sent him Fake Monk, then noticed another email from Gu Peng—filled with his usual wall of nonsense.
Before he could reply, a WeChat notification popped up:
[Whether we collab or not doesn't matter. What matters is whether brother Jiu's free to take a dump together.]
"…"
The Emperor Beast sighed. He understood that Gu Peng meant "grab a meal," but the phrasing was… unnecessary.
He sorted through the thirty-plus song requests and narrowed them down to eight, choosing based on value, potential, and musical fit. Gu Peng made the cut, of course.
Zheng Huo sent another message:
[Xiao Chu, you're too good. I especially love this line: "I'll walk from south to north, from white to black. I want people to see me, yet not know who I am." It's brilliant. This duet's gonna be amazing.]
Chu Zhi replied:
[Let's find a time to record it. Your fans will love it.]
He kept notes on everyone in his contacts. Gu Peng, for example, was labeled "Gu Peng loves pizza." Birthdays were marked on his calendar, and favorite foods recorded in chat notes—handy for spontaneous dinner invites. Just a small social trick, nothing special.
Zheng Huo sent one last message:
[After New Year. Come to the capital then.]
Chu Zhi promised he would, then got back to writing the eight songs he'd agreed to.
A quick reminder: even when an artist performs someone else's song, the copyright still belongs to the songwriter, who continues earning royalties every year.
Before finalizing anything, he messaged Niutou to coordinate. With company support, profits could be maximized.
The new generation's music godfather was steadily rising.
Spring was right around the corner. Streets were lined with red lanterns, homes filled with the smell of chicken, duck, and fish.
Once again, the Emperor Beast had a feast waiting for him, and best of all, he didn't have to cook.
Su Shangbai loved cooking but hated washing dishes, so after some discussion, they happily divided the chores.
Chu Zhi didn't even bother pretending. He fully embraced his laziness and immediately bought a dishwasher with a drying function. After all, laziness was one of humanity's greatest motivators.
Never ask if anyone delivers or installs dishwashers on New Year's Eve. There'll always be someone who skips the celebration for a few silver coins.
Dinner wasn't at Xiao Bai's house, but at Chu Zhi's new one—a place built like a maze where you could get lost just trying to find a door. When Su Shangbai arrived, he was honestly stunned. The hallway connecting the living room and kitchen was so narrow he had to bend down and crawl. The Emperor Beast had clearly never thought about cooking at home when designing the place, which made carrying dishes from the kitchen a bit of an ordeal.
Fragrant stir-fried king crab, braised prawns in oil, pickled chili chicken feet, Dongpo pork, and two vegetable sides.
A full and generous spread. Su Shangbai handed over the dishes, Chu Zhi received them, both bending down and shuffling like soldiers passing ammo through a trench.
"Da Bai, something bothering you?" Chu Zhi asked mid-bite.
"I like someone," Su Shangbai said bluntly, "but my family's arranged a blind date for me. I'm not sure what to do."
"That's not like you," Chu Zhi said. "Is there something making it harder to decide?"
From what the Emperor Beast knew, Su Shangbai's family background wasn't great, and his relationship with his parents wasn't exactly harmonious, so it didn't sound like he'd have trouble saying no.
And considering that Su Shangbai already had his own business, it shouldn't have been that hard a choice.
"My grandpa wants to hand the family business over to me," Su Shangbai said. "But if I take over as family head, I'll have to go through with a family alliance marriage."
Marriage alliances—the oldest and most reliable form of partnership.
If Chu Zhi remembered right, the Su family owned Datang Company in Gui Province. On paper, Da Bai Sugar's market value seemed higher, several billion more even. But people who really understood the market knew how massive a fifty-billion-yuan company like Datang truly was.
Inheriting Datang and combining it with Da Bai Sugar would be like merging two blades into one. Together, they could soar, making him one of the top figures in the country's industrial scene.
Love on one side, success on the other. Either path would change a person's life. So even though they were close, the Emperor Beast didn't dare offer advice.
No one had the right to decide another person's fate. Chu Zhi silently picked up a piece of Dongpo pork and chewed. The meat was tender and rich without being greasy.
When he swallowed, he finally asked, "Xiao Bai, what do you think you'll do?"
"I'll inherit the family business," Su Shangbai said. "But knowing I'll have to sacrifice my feelings for it makes me hate how rational I am."
A smart and realistic guy, just as Chu Zhi expected. Su Shangbai had always leaned toward logic.
"What about you, brother Jiu? When are you planning to settle down?" Su Shangbai asked in return.
"Settle down? I'll focus on my career first," Chu Zhi replied.
Su Shangbai nodded. He knew brother Jiu was ambitious, so he didn't push. After all, there's no point trying to talk sense into someone about love.
The Spring Festival Gala was playing on the TV, completely oblivious to their conversation. The two of them kept chatting as they ate, hands moving quickly as the dishes disappeared from the table.
Whatever you said about Xiao Bai's cooking, at least he'd never go hungry. If everything else failed, he could always open a restaurant and make good money.
Unsurprisingly, the parallel world's 2026 Spring Festival Gala flopped again.
From weak talk shows to collapsing skits, crosstalk, and singing acts, only the dance performances were half-decent. But who wants to spend New Year's just watching people dance?
Still, amid all the complaints online, Chu Zhi's name popped up again.
"Have there even been any good songs on the Gala in the past two years? It's all been tailor-made fluff."
"Not that bad. Chu Zhi's Come Home Often was pretty nice."
"Yeah, my grandparents play it every year when we visit. They love it. Though honestly, Come Home Often doesn't fit Jiu-yé's style at all."
"Wait, wasn't Come Home Often from 2022? That's like... four years ago!"
"Holy shit, really? It's already been four years?"
Chu Zhi might not be performing on the Gala, but his legend still lingered there.
During the holiday, he finalized the tracklist for his international album, titled Is It Peace?. The theme was simple: a wish for world peace.
Tracklist: We Are the World, Heal the World, Earth Song, Do They Know It's Christmas, Tomorrow Will Be Better, Amani, One Day, Imagine, Zombie, Так хочется жить (I So Want to Live), Tell Me Why, 21 Guns, 世界に一つだけの花 (Sekai ni Hitotsu Dake no Hana / The Only Flower in the World), Together, Goodbye Blue Sky.
Maybe listing the songs alone doesn't show how impressive it is, so here's the lineup: Michael Jackson, John Lennon, Green Day, Pink Floyd, Wong Ka Kui, Luo Dayou, Phil Collins, SMAP, Martin Garrix, Band Aid… basically an all-star cast that could terrify any producer.
Five languages: Chinese, English, French, Russian, and Japanese. Just a little flex.
"There are three songs in Japan known as their 'second national anthem.' After singing The Only Flower in the World, that makes two of them done," he mused.
The last one was Misora Hibari's Kawanagare no Uta, but he decided to skip it. It was an enka song, and honestly, one beautiful flower was enough.
A chart once listed "100 Songs the Japanese Are Most Proud to Show the World." Kawanagare no Uta ranked third, The Only Flower in the World first. Calling it Japan's most beloved song wasn't an exaggeration.
"We Are the World and Earth Song are two of Michael Jackson's brightest masterpieces, and Imagine is one of John Lennon's defining works. They won't lose to All Nations, Vol. 1 in any way."
Then Chu Zhi paused, deep in thought about the two Chinese tracks.
Amani was written by Wong Ka Kui. The chorus used Swahili, Kenya's local language. That song didn't bother him much. What gave him pause was Tomorrow Will Be Better.
He'd sung it once before at a "Caring for Rural Children" charity gala but never released it as a single.
🎵 "Gently awaken your sleeping heart, slowly open your eyes, see this busy world, still spinning in lonely silence. The spring breeze doesn't understand love, it stirs the hearts of the young, and the tear marks on yesterday's face, dry away with memory..." 🎵
But Luo Dayou's original lyrics were actually:
🎵 "Gently caress your numb body, helplessly close your eyes, this absurd world still spins in blurred black and white. The spring breeze already understands love, it pierces the heart of a girl, and the old torn scars of the past will never heal again..." 🎵
Two completely different meanings. At that charity gala, Chu Zhi sang the usual version, though personally, he preferred the original. From a deeper, interpretive angle, the original had more weight.
"Don't stir up trouble," the Emperor Beast said decisively. "Go with the common version. It fits better for galas and charity events. It'll spread farther."
All Nations, Vol. 1 had already sold over twenty-five million copies worldwide—the highest physical album sales since 1997.
Of course, that number came after a year and a half of momentum: the Unsinkable film, his performance on The Masked Singer USA, the assassination incident, the concert tour, and everything in between. His best month alone sold sixteen million.
"The global fame's pretty much there. Once Is It Peace? releases in China as a physical album, let's see if it breaks into the all-time top ten," Chu Zhi murmured.
Then again, those records from the eighties and nineties were terrifying. Back when legends like Presley reigned, a single album could sell thirty-five million copies in just over a year.
Even in the parallel world, there were seven artists or groups whose total album sales exceeded fifty million. Among them, Presley alone held the only album that sold over a hundred million copies, counting vinyl, cassette, CD, and USB versions.
But even with that, Presley still only ranked second on the all-time total sales chart with 380 million albums sold. The top spot was held by a British rock band that had taken the whole world by storm, with total sales reaching 440 million.
"The world keeps changing, and humanity can't stop its progress," Chu Zhi sighed, feeling the terrifying pressure of history's wheel crushing everything in its path. Even with all the entertainment works from another world in his grasp and his unmistakable looks, he still couldn't fight against it.
Even in another twenty years, it'd be hard for anyone to have an album that sold fifty million copies, let alone a hundred million.
Right now, Chu Zhi had released eight albums both domestically and internationally: 25117 Possibilities, Chu Ci · Ode to the Orange Tree, Little Fruits Are Sweet, Chu Ci · Nine Songs, Besieged on All Sides, The One Gazed Upon by Gods, All Nations, Vol. 1, and With You Here.
He also had three EPs, A Little Expectation for the World, With You Here, and The Clouds Have Cleared, plus a single, Come On, Sweet Death. But all together, they still hadn't reached a hundred million in sales, sitting at around seventy million in total.
So breaking into the top ten in individual history would be tough, though there was still hope for total album sales. Chu Zhi slapped both his cheeks a couple of times.
"Don't get discouraged. Use your hands to create your dream. Woodstock Festival will shock the world!" he muttered. The plan was solid—once the performance was over and the follow-up publicity came out, both the hype and the moral weight would rise to new heights.
But he seemed to have hit himself too hard because his cheeks stung.
"Damn, my skin's thinner than I thought. I can't do that again," he grumbled.
That night, he had another big meal. A familiar sound chimed in his head: [Ate spicy food 5500 times] Achievement unlocked. He earned 11 Personality Coins.
His savings rose from 43 to 54 coins.
The Emperor Beast quickly checked other missions, but they were all far away. For the "Smoke Emperor" task, he still needed another 3,000 cigarettes—around 150 more packs—to reach 25,000.
And for the "Eat Carbs for 3500 Days" mission, he was still a third short, so he dropped that thought.
"Don't feel lucky with draws today, so I'll skip it," he said to himself.
…
Early to bed, early to rise.
Sleeping at 3 a.m. and getting up at 7 a.m.—even the King of Hell would shake his head at that.
For the next half month, the Emperor Beast became a full-time sky traveler, flying overseas nonstop.
When the waning moon hung low, Chu Zhi landed in Seoul.
Luckily, he didn't get airsick because as soon as he got off the plane, he was thrown right into work without a single break.
"Boss, should we get involved in this matter?" Park No-yo asked.
Park No-yo was the head of the South Korea branch, a regional commander on par with Lee Gwi-hoon. The company didn't have any artists under them, mainly handling copyright management and branding. They didn't seem to be doing anything major, but thanks to Chu Zhi's overwhelming popularity in South Korea, Park No-yo had quite a lot of influence in the Korean entertainment industry. Many of the big players there treated him with respect.
"Can we even interfere?" Chu Zhi asked back.
"It's hard," Park No-yo admitted, though he didn't say it was impossible.
Chu Zhi motioned for him to continue, and Park No-yo—once a prosecutor who'd taken down the top boy group GZ—definitely had his own way of handling things.
The issue started when someone exposed a scandal involving Interpark.Ticket, the biggest ticketing website in South Korea.
Apparently, for concerts including Chu Zhi's Seoul performance, the best seats—the first two rows in the inner area—were being secretly hidden. Regular fans couldn't buy them at all.
If it had just been the organizer reserving those seats for VIPs, fine, that'd be understandable. But when fans called the company, they were told there were no hidden tickets. Aiguo Entertainment even stated directly, "Our company only gifted around twenty tickets to the artist's friends. All other seats are open for purchase. The closer seats simply offer a better view, so prices rise accordingly. Please purchase according to your budget."
That statement only fueled suspicion. Soon, South Korean netizens began digging deep and found that Interpark.Ticket had been using those reserved seats to curry favor with chaebol heirs. The public exploded.
What made the situation blow up even more was that it happened right before Chu Zhi's Seoul concert. There were only 100,000 tickets total, but there were way more than 100,000 Little Fruits in South Korea. And that didn't even count overseas fans trying to buy tickets across borders. Once all that was factored in, only about 60,000 tickets were realistically available. Many diehard fans couldn't get one.
"Ah, no wonder I couldn't get a ticket! They locked them away!"
"Unbelievable. If it weren't for IT, I'd have grabbed one for sure!"
"Chaebol bootlickers!"
"Screw that site!"
"I'm never using Interpark again!"
Most South Korean Little Fruits who failed to get tickets vented their anger at Interpark.Ticket. They didn't care how many seats had actually been locked—they just needed somewhere to unleash their frustration over missing out and their resentment toward the social system that let this kind of thing happen.
Park No-yo's plan was to strike from both public opinion and legal angles. Chu Zhi listened and thought it sounded pretty solid.
Interpark.Ticket was owned by the e-commerce giant Yibaigou, a strong player in the market. But no matter how powerful they were, they were still in the wrong this time. Without Chu Zhi's knowledge, they'd used his concert tickets as favors for other people.
If it had been a few dozen tickets, fine, but it was the entire first row—hundreds of seats. That was outrageous. Ticketing sites charged a service fee based on ticket prices, and since Chu Zhi's concerts were insanely popular, his rate was set at the lowest 5%. But for a stadium that held 100,000 people like Jamsil Olympic Stadium, even 5% was an astronomical amount.
"The plan's good. Go ahead and do it. No matter what happens, the company's got your back. We're in the right here," Chu Zhi said firmly.
Hearing that made Park No-yo's heart feel oddly warm.
No wonder he used to be a prosecutor. In South Korea, prosecutors always said their career goal was to arrest a president. And Chu Zhi's words—"Go all out"—showed he didn't hesitate either.
Not long after, Yibaigou's executives came to Chu Zhi to make peace… but let's not dwell too much on the business talk. After all, this story's about entertainment, not corporate politics.
The Seoul concert broke records again. South Korea showed the entire world what its idol culture looked like. Every street and intersection around Jamsil-dong was completely jammed. No one knew exactly how many people came, but it was definitely over 500,000.
Dutch traveler and writer Pierre Cardin was stunned. "Does every South Korean chase idols?" he exclaimed.
That concert also sparked a strange question among South Korean fans on Knowledge Man—their local version of Zhihu: "Does anyone know why there's always an empty seat in the very front row at the Bird's Nest concert, with a plush dolphin sitting on it? Does that dolphin have some special meaning in China?"
[Picture attached]
In the photo, the crowd was a sea of people, and the dolphin plushie fixed on the seat stood out brightly. No wonder the fan was curious—after all, front-row seats reopened on Interpark.Ticket were selling for over a million won (around six thousand yuan). No way anyone would just leave a seat like that empty.
A Zhihu user named Lu Suizhou reposted the question because he'd noticed something too: "I went to the Pengcheng concert, and there was also a dolphin plushie two seats down from me. I didn't take a picture though—I was too hyped singing along."
He didn't post photos, but he did show his VIP inner section ticket, Row 1, Seat 9.
Zhihu's full of sharp-eyed fans. Soon, another Little Fruit named "Doghead Hehe-da" uploaded photos from the Bird's Nest concert. There it was again—the same empty seat, the same plushie. She even uploaded several clear shots from different angles.
She added a note: "That's not a dolphin plushie, it's a shark-eagle plushie. I volunteered at the Bird's Nest concert. When we were cleaning up, I saw this toy and thought a fan had forgotten it, so I tried to turn it in. The organizers said it was placed there on purpose by Chu Zhi."
It really was a shark-eagle plushie—a shark's body with an eagle's head, looking hilariously dumb and silly.
Zhihu blew up. "Holy shit! So if it showed up in Pengcheng, Bird's Nest, and Seoul, does that mean there's one at every concert?!"
===
1. Original Song Title: "We Are the World"
Artist: USA for Africa
2. Original Song Title: "Heal the World"
Artist: Michael Jackson
3. Original Song Title: "Earth Song"
Artist: Michael Jackson
4. Original Song Title: "Do They Know It's Christmas?"
Artist: Band Aid
5. Original Song Title: "明天会更好" (Míngtiān Huì Gènghǎo)
Artist: 60+ Taiwanese Singers (Composed by Lo Ta-Yu / 罗大佑)
6. Original Song Title: "Amani"
Artist: Beyond
7. Original Song Title: "One Day"
Artist: Matisyahu
8. Original Song Title: "Imagine"
Artist: John Lennon
9. Original Song Title: "Zombie"
Artist: The Cranberries
10. Original Song Title: «Так хочется жить» (Tak Khochetsya Zhit')
Artist: Lubeh (Любэ)
11. Original Song Title: "Tell Me Why"
Artist: Declan Galbraith
12. Original Song Title: "21 Guns"
Artist: Green Day
13. Original Song Title: "世界に一つだけの花" (Sekai ni Hitotsu dake no Hana)
Artist: SMAP
14. Original Song Title: "Together"
Artist: Martin Garrix
15. Original Song Title: "Goodbye Blue Sky"
Artist: Pink Floyd
Language: English
16. Original Song Title: "世界に一つだけの花" (Sekai ni Hitotsu dake no Hana) - "The One and Only Flower in the World"
Artist: SMAP
17. Original Song Title: "上を向いて歩こう" (Ue o Muite Arukō) - "I Look Up As I Walk"
Artist: Kyu Sakamoto (坂本九)
Note: Internationally known as "Sukiyaki."
18. Original Song Title: "川の流れのように" (Kawa no Nagare no Yō ni) - "Like a Flowing River"
Artist: Misora Hibari (美空 ひばり)