All the civil servants from both China and Vietnam participating in the celebration were present. With so many high-ranking officials in one place, it was almost a miracle the numbers didn't overflow. Vietnam's top leader and third-ranked official were there, as well as the heads of the foreign affairs and commerce departments.
From the Chinese side, the third-ranked official, the ambassador to Vietnam, and the head of the commerce department were present. Many scholars and experts from both countries also attended, a true assembly of authorities in their respective fields.
The director of the International Communist Movement Research Department at the Marxism Research Institute of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, a professor from the Government Management School at Beijing Normal University, and the director of the Vietnam Research Institute of the Vietnamese Academy of Social Sciences were all there. These scholars had the ability to influence a nation's trajectory to a certain extent.
Everyone sat upright, and no topic discussed was trivial.
"China was the first country in the world to establish diplomatic relations with Vietnam. In the seventy years since, friendly cooperation between Vietnam and China has always been the mainstream of our bilateral relations," Vuong Dong began his speech. "In the struggle against imperialist colonial aggression, the Chinese revolution provided Vietnam with immense encouragement and support. We will never forget this…"
With Vuong Dong, Vietnam's top leader, framing the celebration, the event officially began.
Even a brief statement from a leader carries weight. In such occasions, the phrasing is deliberate: "Vietnam and China's friendship" rather than "China and Vietnam," always placing the speaker's own country first. Words are chosen with precision; it takes more than a casual mind to navigate political nuance.
Vietnamese scholars presented research reports on finance, culture, and history between the two countries. The Vietnamese leadership occasionally intervened to facilitate small, non-disruptive collaborations. For example, they finalized a joint project between Renmin Education Press and domestic Vietnamese historians to translate and publish Vietnam's classical four great novels.
Strong national influence brings practical benefits. What Chinese experts call the four great Vietnamese classics—Jin Yunqiao, Gong Yuan Yinqu, Zhengfu Yin, and Hua Jian Zhuan—was readily accepted by Vietnam and even proudly used domestically. The presence of the director from Renmin Education Press at the celebration was no coincidence; these matters were meticulously planned.
Interspersed with presentations were performances leaning toward traditional art forms. The organizers had prepared dances from the Dai ethnic group, the Tai Yi bowl dance, Zhou Wen and Kou Cong theatre, and the Chau plays. According to Vuong Dong, they originally wanted to showcase the water puppet theatre, but the venue limited its execution.
"The Chau play feels a little… Lovecraftian," Chu Zhi said, waiting at a hallway corner. He had glimpsed some of the performances, and this one left a strong impression. What started as rural-themed suddenly featured a dancer with an eye painted on their palm, their hand movements suggesting a thousand hands and eyes, creating an intense contrast.
Regional differences shaped appreciation. Chu Zhi found the world-class Vietnamese pianist Dang Tai Shan's rendition of Ambush from Ten Sides particularly moving.
"My piano skills are far from this level," Emperor Beast thought, acknowledging that even with thirty-four iterations of training, there remained a gap between himself and a professional pianist.
During a mid-event tea break, Vuong Lu, China's third-ranked official, delivered his speech: "China and Vietnam must fully implement the important consensus reached by our top leaders, uphold the traditional friendship of our countries, and remember our shared ideals, beliefs, and historical mission…"
Why did China's third-ranked official speak so late? The arrangement placed Vietnam in the first half and China in the second. If the event were held domestically, the order would reverse.
Once Vuong Lu finished, it was Chu Zhi's turn to perform.
At Chu Zhi's age, he was an unusual choice among the celebration's artists. There were no pop stars invited; even classical vocalists were absent. Every invited artist was a master in traditional cultural fields. His entrance naturally sparked surprise.
"Is he really the popular Chinese singer?" Vuong Dong asked rhetorically, already expecting the answer.
"He is also China's most renowned star currently. His recent album sold over five million copies," the secretary replied. "Hundreds of thousands of people wished him to attend the celebration, so Minister Pan extended the invitation."
"Indeed, public opinion must never be ignored," Vuong Dong commented.
Vietnamese scholars were also surprised. How did such a young and attractive guest suddenly appear in this formal event? They were less concerned about what Chu Zhi would sing and more about what his presence represented.
"It is a bit awkward for him," Secretary Vuong thought, observing Chu Zhi. Among a gathering of traditional artists, inserting a romantic pop song could feel out of place. Even though his English album songs were uplifting, their rhythm and noise might not suit the context.
Still, Secretary Vuong would recommend him again. This was the voice of the public, the achievement of the minister.
"Good-looking young man," Vuong Lu commented, then asked the nearby secretary, "You are younger, have you heard Chu Zhi's songs?"
Secretary Liu Ya replied, "Only Always Go Home to Visit, I know nothing about music."
"You should try. Chu Zhi's songs have a classical charm," Vuong Lu encouraged. The young secretary nodded, agreeing to listen. Even the third-ranked official personally recommended it.
At the center of the hall, Chu Zhi wore a formal Zhongshan suit. Broad shoulders and a well-proportioned figure gave him a tall and handsome appearance.
"My performance is a Vietnamese song, Gp.M.Trong.M," Chu Zhi announced.
His system companions were particularly pleased. After exchanging three personality coins for this work, Emperor Beast had only nine coins left, no double or triple digits remaining. All vouchers were used.
Chu Zhi took a deep breath. The Vietnamese song was ideal because it was a cover of the Chinese N-Mong song Dreaming of Mother, with Vietnamese-style arrangements and lyrics, incorporating unique instruments like the hulangqin, moving countless Vietnamese netizens.
It also retained the original melody, allowing a careful listener to sense the flavor of grassland music. Its style aligned with the 20th century, appropriate for the attending leaders and scholars.
"Dreaming of Mother, excellent," Secretary Vuong nodded approvingly. Traditional performances like the Dai dance Mother and Chau play Mai En River depicted rural life, including a mother severely injured while saving her child. Only a few pieces matched in theme and style for this audience.
"Stay steady, stay steady," Chu Zhi reminded himself.
He was not nervous. The content could easily evoke empathy. What if it triggered absolute despair?
He avoided alcohol and the Immortal Wine skill before going on stage.
However, he had forgotten that his recently acquired passive skill, Crowd Freak, automatically activated the first stage among the hundreds present.
Then he began to sing—