The two words "ancient costume" and "dance" appeared frequently in the fan festival's submission zone.
So, Chu Zhi went ahead and hired a dance instructor to choreograph a classical-style routine.
As for the music, he chose "The Sword and the Opera Lady", a rhythm & blues track with strong Chinese elements—perfect for dancing.
"Brother Jiu, that movement isn't quite right. Speed it up a little."
"Stretch farther on the forward step. And pull your right foot back."
"Great, great. Now let's connect those two moves and run through it quickly. Beautiful, beautiful!"
...
Chu Zhi made time every day for dance practice. Once he made up his mind, he followed through. His execution was surprisingly decisive. It was exhausting, sure, but his improvement was visible each day.
"I'm not exaggerating. I say it like it is. Brother Jiu didn't have any prior dance training, but he's improving quickly. He's doing great," the dance teacher praised.
"If he can match the physical conditioning, he could totally be a singing-dancing artist."
Chu Zhi replied, "That's because the teacher explains things so clearly."
He had memories of Cheng Dieyi practicing acrobatics on floor mats from a young age. In opera, your movements had to be elegant, which required techniques like aerial flips, waist spins, flying kicks, whirls, diving lunges, and steel gates. Because of that, Chu Zhi progressed with half the effort.
Two hours of training per day meant sixty hours in half a month. It didn't seem like much, but for the Emperor Beast who was earnestly learning a full routine, it was more than enough.
"If I could go to the fan festival, I'd be thrilled just to see Jiu-yé in person. No need for any dancing," Old Qian mumbled when he saw the training.
"What are you muttering about?" Wang Yuan suddenly appeared behind him, making Old Qian jump.
"Boss, don't sneak up on people like that. Jump scares kill," Old Qian scolded.
Wang Yuan asked, "You scared of ghosts?"
"Nope." Old Qian shook his head.
"Then if you're not afraid of ghosts, why be afraid of people?" Wang Yuan looked puzzled.
Old Qian blurted out in song:🎵 "I'm scared of ghosts, but they've never hurt me. I'm not scared of people, but they've cut me to pieces..." 🎵
"Stop, stop. Quit singing." Wang Yuan winced. "What on earth are you singing?"
"I heard Jiu-yé humming it before. Thought it sounded pretty good," Old Qian replied honestly.
"Well... the lyrics are actually pretty solid. Kinda real. But your voice? You butchered the song."
"???""Double standards, thy name is woman", Old Qian wanted to say, but didn't dare. He wasn't afraid of anyone in the studio—not even Niu Niu—but when it came to Wang Yuan, his courage disappeared.
Their lunch meeting was held while eating to avoid cutting into break time.
Thanks to Chu Zhi's influence, the company's atmosphere had subtly shifted. The whole studio radiated this strange energy: We're totally chill. But in reality, it was intense.
Then again, hard work brought returns. Last year, Old Qian's bonus was 4.5 million, higher than many top executives at listed companies.
Not that they had a choice. Chu Zhi made too much money. The studio's bonus pool exceeded 48 million…
"Since Brother Chu has been practicing dance for so long, how about accepting a dance-related show? Maybe be a celebrity captain on This Is Street Dance? Or a mentor on Dance Storm?" Old Qian suggested, then sat down to continue eating.
Honestly, it was a workplace anomaly.
"No way. Street dance requires way more technical skill. Brother Chu would be at a disadvantage. As for Dance Storm, they can't afford him," Niu Jiangxue said bluntly.
Their food choices reflected their personalities.
Fei Ge had braised pork over rice—a fast food option he didn't particularly like, but it was cheap and convenient.
Old Qian ordered a crab pot, enough for three people, and invited Qi Qiu to share. Wang Yuan had a custom gourmet Sichuan meal, with Niu Niu tagging along for bites.
That day's lunch meeting centered on whether they should reconcile with Western brands like Adidas.
For the past two months, Adidas had repeatedly made offers. Even Dolce & Gabbana reached out, inviting Chu Zhi to become their global ambassador, despite their controversial history.
"No need," Chu Zhi declined firmly. "Any brand with a history of anti-Chinese sentiment? Don't even talk to them."
"I figured you'd say that. But those two offered huge premiums. You should at least be informed," said Niu Jiangxue.
Fei Ge added, "So most of the brands under the LVMH Group are against us."
LVMH, or Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton, was the world's biggest luxury conglomerate. Most well-known brands fell under their umbrella.
Givenchy, Dior, LV, Tiffany—they were all LVMH. And nearly all of them had, at one point or another, engaged in anti-Chinese narratives.
But the Emperor Beast wasn't scared. Now he truly understood the perks of stardom. If he were a business mogul, he'd be subject to foreign capital and even international suppression. As a celebrity? None of that mattered. He had his work, his fans, and his system bro. What was there to worry about?
In today's digital world, unless you were in a country like North Korea, could anything truly be censored? If censorship worked that well, America wouldn't still have discrimination issues.
After lunch, Chu Zhi had to fly to Qiong Province for an event. Small note—if he wasn't in Modu, the dance classes were conducted over video. A bit inconvenient, but manageable.
August passed in a whirlwind of dance practice.
Meanwhile, his management team received word that My Love from the Star had officially wrapped and entered post-production. Thanks to the cast, Netflix planned to push heavy promotion in both Huaxia and the Western market.
Netflix's reach was massive. Since 2019, they'd been one of the top 100 companies in America. Their headquarters were based in Los Gatos, California.
Naturally, their biggest market was still the West. After internal discussions, Netflix decided to funnel part of their traffic budget into the American market.
At the end of August, Chu Zhi skipped a scheduled Past Life recording due to contractual obligations elsewhere. As a result, he didn't appear in episode three of Mushroom House.
Fans flooded the comments:
"Without brother Jiu, the show just feels empty."
"Jiu-yé would've been perfect for Mushroom House. He can get along with any guest."
"Yeah, Kun-ge can't always handle everything at once…"
Bullet comments and viewer posts didn't usually matter much to the production team. Director Luo Xunyuan never read them. But he did care about the data.
Episode three without Chu Zhi didn't even hit one-tenth the popularity of episode two.Then again, episode two was a major event.
Still, as director and producer, Luo Xunyuan had to answer to the sponsors. And they didn't care about context. They only cared about numbers.
Most concerning was that episode three didn't just drop in ratings. It plummeted off a cliff.
"Zhang He, at your age, in this situation, how can you still sleep at night?" Luo Xunyuan repeated the vice director's complaint word for word to his assistant.
"Uh… Director Luo, is something wrong?" Zhang He blinked in confusion.
Luo Xunyuan said, "You need to confirm whether Teacher Chu will appear in next week's Mushroom House."
They had a contract, so he'd definitely show. Luo Xunyuan knew that. But he needed an outlet for his stress, so he dumped the task on his assistant.
On September 3rd, Chu Zhi received a formal VIP Invitation to the Saint Petersburg International Cultural Forum—one and a half months early.
"So this is the gold-standard treatment for a core guest?" Chu Zhi muttered to himself. "Last time I was a regular guest, I sang Opera 2. This time, as a core guest, will it be Dedication? Or Katyusha?"