Koo Hyo-yeon's eyes stayed fixed on the deputy director.
"Hm?" Deputy Director Sun looked puzzled. He'd thought this Korean woman was normal, but now she was acting strange. Then it hit him, Chu Zhi's over-the-top popularity in South Korea. People there even had a "Chu Zhi Day."
"Chu Zhi? The celebrity attending the donation ceremony is Chu Zhi?" Koo Yeon-pyo perked up at the familiar name. "Wait, you mean the Chu Zhi who starred in Unsinkable?!"
Deputy Director Sun nodded with some difficulty, mainly because he had no idea what this Korean was about to say.
Of course Yeon-pyo knew Chu Zhi. In their circles, the man was called "the only thing we have in common with the lower-class brats." South Korea's class system was even more rigid than Japan's. Among the chaebol heirs, it was a matter of pride to distinguish themselves from ordinary citizens, right down to what majors they picked at university. For example, both Hyo-yeon and Yeon-pyo studied at Ewha Womans University, but since she liked horseback riding, she entered as a riding specialist. Before that, Ewha had no such program.
Liking Chu Zhi was literally the only overlap between the chaebol heirs and ordinary people. Yeon-pyo wasn't a Little Fruits fan himself, but one of his best buddies was a diehard. He was about to say more when he suddenly felt a chill up his spine, his seat turning into a bed of nails, his throat tightening. He turned his head and realized it was his sister's death stare.
"I'm sorry if it sounds abrupt," Hyo-yeon said calmly. "I just learned this myself. The Santander Group of Spain donated the bronze serpent head out of admiration for Chu Zhi and Chinese culture. To be honest, I've admired Mr. Chu and Chinese culture for a long time, and I've also thought about donating cultural relics."
She added, "On my twentieth birthday, my father gave me a present, a Tang Dynasty copy of Funeral Lament."
Deputy Director Sun didn't know much about relics, but just by the name he could guess it was valuable. Still, he wasn't sure how valuable.
The secretary, however, quickly looked it up on her phone when no one was paying attention, and her breath caught in her throat.
Funeral Lament was one of Wang Xizhi's masterpieces. The original was preserved in the San-no-maru Shōzōkan in Japan. Since Wang's surviving works were so rare, later dynasties produced countless reproductions. The Tang court's double-outline ink copies were considered the best, preserving the closest likeness to the original calligraphy.
To give an example, even the world-class Crescent Museum, despite its vast collection, considered its Tang copy of Timely Clearing After Snowfall one of its seven greatest treasures.
No exaggeration, if the Twelve Zodiac Heads had historical hype behind them, then the Tang copy of Funeral Lament was the real deal. In terms of rarity and artistic value, it was one step short of being a true national treasure. For reference, a Tang copy of Wang Xizhi's Ping'an Letter fetched 308 million yuan at auction ten years ago.
The secretary whispered the value to Deputy Director Sun, and his face turned pale with shock. What the hell, an over-a-hundred-million-yuan treasure just dropping from the sky?
Even Yeon-pyo was stunned, as shocked as if South Korea had just beaten the U.S. to a pulp.
South Korea's extreme feminist movements had their roots in real discrimination. Daughters of chaebol families never had inheritance rights. If there was no son, the company would go to a son-in-law or even a nephew before a daughter.
That Tang copy of Funeral Lament was one of three priceless gifts their father had bought from Japan, worth about a billion yuan in total, for Hyo-yeon's coming-of-age ceremony.
A note here: Koreans officially celebrate adulthood at twenty, but with their unique "Korean age," that's basically equivalent to eighteen in China.
Don't think their father spoiled his eldest daughter too much. What it really meant was, "This is all you'll ever get. The company and everything else won't be yours."
Yet somehow, Hyo-yeon later convinced their father to hand over LG Chemical, the most important part of the conglomerate, to her.
"Donating cultural relics is a serious matter," Deputy Director Sun said after regaining his composure. "It needs to be handled with the appropriate departments."
"I consider China my second homeland, and Mr. Chu is my only idol. I hope you can understand my sincerity," Hyo-yeon added.
"Rest assured, Ms. Koo. We can feel your affection for China," Deputy Director Sun replied. He understood what she meant. She wanted some benefits in return during the fine details of negotiation. That was normal. If the Tang copy went to auction today, it'd fetch at least five or six hundred million yuan. If she donated it outright without asking for anything, just to chase after a star, that would've been abnormal.
After coordinating with the Jinling side, the Koo family checked into the Dongjiao State Kooesthouse.
Yeon-pyo felt he had to say something. His sister already knew he liked men. If she thought his eagerness about Chu Zhi meant he was harboring indecent thoughts toward her idol, he'd be dead meat. His childhood fear of her was bone-deep.
When there was no one else around, he asked carefully, "Sister, you're a fan of the Professor too?"
"Too? You mean you're also a fan of Mr. Chu?" Her gaze softened a little.
"Uh… of course," he declared righteously. "The Professor isn't like other celebrities. I only feel respect and admiration for him."
She patted his shoulder. "This time your taste is actually good."
Hearing her praise made him happier than hearing their father's. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, what kind of ability did this Chinese singer have to win his sister's admiration? Honestly, a ruthless mantis like her admiring an idol singer was bizarre.
When they reached their seventh-floor room, Yeon-pyo wrinkled his nose at the décor.
That was normal. Aside from a few exceptions like the Xijiao Kooesthouse or the Xihu Kooesthouse, most state guesthouses were a bit outdated in style. Even the Zhudao Kooesthouse, recommended by Premier Zhou, had the same problem. For someone as pampered as Yeon-pyo, disliking it was expected.
"Kim Seo said that once you attend one of Chu Zhi's fan events, you'll automatically become a fan. That's too much, I don't buy it." He wondered if he should try it out himself. Then he hesitated. What if he really did get inappropriate thoughts? With Chu Zhi's status, that would be suicide.
"No, I still want to meet him," he muttered. He immediately called their contacts in China to arrange a dinner with Meng Wuping that evening.
His buddy Kim Seo, by the way, was the third son of Kakao's founder, the one who married Pan Koo Bank's president's youngest daughter, Chen Wu.
After attending the Orange Festival with his fiancée Chen Wu, Kim Seo ended up becoming a Little Fruits fan himself.
Back in the guesthouse's main hall, a giant banner caught everyone's eye: "Thank You to Ms. Monica and Mr. Pablo for Donating the Yuanmingyuan Bronze Serpent Head." Reporters filled the space.
A journalist from Kooangming Daily interviewed the siblings in Spanish, but they seemed distracted.
"Ms. Monica, what do you think of China?" the journalist asked.
"China is a mysterious and beautiful country," Monica said, spouting polite words at first. Later, her voice carried more sincerity. "I really hope to visit these places."
She pulled a tiny square notepad from her bag, even smaller than a Rubik's Cube, and scribbled some crooked Chinese characters. Honestly, if the journalist hadn't been skilled, he wouldn't have been able to read them at all.
Kooessing and piecing it together, the young Spanish beauty's destinations were three: the Dazu Rock Carvings, the Little Three Gorges, and Fairy Mountain.
The journalist's hobby happened to be studying travel. As a hardcore "cloud backpacker," he instantly realized those three spots were all in Chongqing.
"Dazu, Little, Mountain" were all 5A-rated scenic spots, but China had too many of those. He needed to ask why she picked them. Even if he already guessed it was because Chu Zhi came from there, he needed it on record.
"Because the MVs for All Nations, Vol. 1 and Besieged on All Sides were filmed there. I want to see them in person," Monica explained.
MVs? The journalist had bought The One Gazed Upon by Gods, but most filming locations had been overseas. So Chu Zhi had been quietly promoting his hometown? Why didn't he ever say so?!
Clearly the journalist didn't use YouTube. The Dazu Rock Carvings, Little Three Gorges, and Fairy Mountain were beautiful, sure, but to get foreigners to fly thousands of miles for them was extreme. Still, when Chu Zhi walked slowly along the rock walls in the MV, countless foreign Little Fruits flew over just to walk that same path.
At that moment, Chu Zhi entered through the main doors, flanked by his bodyguards Huang and Xu from Zhongnanhai. They'd even scouted the location the day before. One reason Zhongnanhai bodyguards were so elite was that they could get advance intel not only in China but in most countries abroad, forcing local authorities to cooperate.
Monica wore a Hermès winter runway outfit, satin textures stitched together with embroidered feathers. The curves of the design fit her figure perfectly. She nearly lost control of her excitement when she saw Chu Zhi.
"Mr. Chu Zhi, I'm Monica, Monica Alicia Patricia Botín," she said nervously, her voice trembling with expectation. "Do you still remember me?"
"Of course I remember. Thanks to Ali's help last time," Chu Zhi greeted warmly.
Hearing him call her by her nickname made Monica's joy overflow.
"And me, and me! I'm Pablo Pilar Cruz Patricia López," her fourteen-year-old brother interrupted.
"Of course I remember you too, Pilo," Chu Zhi said.
He didn't actually remember clearly, but his Emperor Beast memory trick kicked in. He'd once drawn a "Spanish language proficiency" card, so he knew how nicknames worked. Spaniards had fixed diminutives. For example, Pablo Pilar could become Pili, Piluca, Pillo, or Pilo. "Papi" was also possible, but since papi had certain… suggestive meanings in Spanish, it wasn't used casually.
So when he heard it, he could naturally piece it together.
The donation ceremony followed a set procedure. The Jinling Museum and the Palace Museum announced the start, donors gave short speeches, Chu Zhi expressed his thanks, and finally the museum director promised to protect the relics.
"I've grown up, and I've inherited the Patricia family. One day, I'll donate all our family antiques to Mr. Chu Zhi!" Pablo declared loudly.
Uh… one could only imagine how his grandfather would react to that.
Chu Zhi didn't take it seriously. By the time the boy was old enough to inherit, he'd have changed his mind.
One detail stood out: Monica and Pablo's last names didn't match. As explained before, Spaniards used their mother's surname at the end, which meant the two had different mothers. Pablo Pilar was his given name, while Cruz was his baptismal name.
Monica didn't have a baptismal name. Monica Alicia was her full name.
"Seriously, my grandpa bought a ton of Chinese vases and plates." Seeing his idol didn't take him seriously, Pablo repeated himself with extra emphasis.
Chu Zhi responded with genuine gratitude and anticipation, which finally satisfied Pablo.
Honestly, CCTV's publicity skills weren't great. Even though the donation ceremony was broadcast live on their network, not many people even knew about it.
Well, it also had something to do with Chu Zhi's own team. For other celebrities, something like this would call for massive promotion across every platform. For him, it was just business as usual.
Not that these things were useless. Stack enough of them up and the publicity would explode on its own.
See? At the post-event banquet, Elder Dan from the Palace Museum and Director Yi from the Jinling Museum were practically praising him to the heavens.
…
October 6th, the "In Harmony with Chu · World Tour" officially kicked off in Shanghai. For the city, it was no small "challenge."
First challenge, the subway was already crowded on a normal day. Today, Lines 4, 3, and 11 were literally hell. Every car was packed so tight people were about to be squashed into meat pies.
Even with the tourism center right by the stadium and buses like 754, 985, and 44 connecting, the pressure on passenger flow was brutal.
The 80,000-seat stadium had sold 84,980 tickets, but the crowd inside easily topped 100,000. Some were diehards who came without tickets, hoping scalpers with magical powers might sell them one at sky-high prices. Others just wanted to join the atmosphere.
"Next round, I'm definitely getting a ticket!"
"Two rounds, more than four hundred thousand people trying to buy, I feel like only the speed demons managed to snag one. But the third round in Mountain City, Fog City, Spring City, and Forest City, I think I can do it."
"As long as 'insta-sold out' doesn't turn into five seconds, I've still got hope."
The ones chatting were Xiao Zi and Xiao Qi. They didn't even try to get in, they just wanted to hang out outside and hear the echoes.
Xiao Zi had been a Little Fruits for five years, starting from I Really Am a Singer. Once, just for her idol, she dragged her best friend out at three in the morning to deliver breakfast to sanitation workers as charity.
Because she set a star goal on the Orang Home app to "get into Fudan," she studied like crazy, and now she was actually majoring in Atmospheric Sciences at Fudan University. That's right, she really reached her star. Falling for this idol had changed her life.
Her best friend Xiao Qi used to be a fan of the boy group GZ. But after the "Lone Brave Firefighter" incident, she quit the fandom entirely. She'd overperformed on her exams and made it into Shanghai Institute of Technology. Not bad, but still not on Xiao Zi's level.
She'd lost count of how many times she sighed, "An idol's influence on a fan is just too much." With that thought in mind, she ended up as a casual fan of Chu Zhi.
Picking up some trash a Little Fruits had tossed, volunteer Xiao Wu—yes, the same young guy who got hired at the company thanks to one line from King Totan—was here too. He had the day off, so he came. Listening to the Little Fruits around him hyping themselves up about round three tickets made him smile.
But dreams are sweet, reality's rough. Working at Aiguo Entertainment, he knew more than most. For the first two rounds, you had to bind your ID card on the platform. Which meant foreign fans couldn't buy at all.
Starting with round three, tickets would go up on eplus, Interpark, TTM, See, and more than ten other sites, finally allowing international fans to try. Their speed might be weak, but their numbers were terrifying. Round three would be even harder.
"There are still plenty of Little Fruits rushing in from other provinces. Little Smartass, remember to shift your position." That was what he heard on the phone. Little Smartass was his online handle, and honestly, hearing people call him that out loud was kind of embarrassing.
At that moment, public transport was already collapsing, let alone fans who drove or booked rides. Caoxi North Road and South Zhongshan Second Road were completely jammed. Traffic cops from three districts were called in, and it still barely made a dent.
The concert was at seven, but by five or six, the entrance to the stadium was already packed tight with fans.
"You guys planned this? Everyone's wearing orange?"
Cai Jia asked her cousin Cen Yixin. Looking around, it was a flood of orange jackets, hoodies, hats… an orange sea crashing in waves.
"Nope, no planning. It's just that when Little Fruits come to Jiu-yé's concert, of course we wear something orange." Cen Yixin herself wore a pale orange dress, with a black jacket over it since the weather had turned chilly.
Thankfully, under her cousin's relentless persuasion, Cai Jia had put on an orange coat before leaving home. Otherwise, she really would've looked out of place.
Looking out over the orange sea glowing under the sunset, she thought, orange was the color of joy. At this moment, it felt like anyone could be happy.
"Please don't push. If there's an accident, the concert might be canceled. For the eighth anniversary, don't push, please."
The volunteers in orange vests kept repeating the warning, trying to keep order.
Whether at album signings or here at the concert, the volunteers were always organized by Wang Yuan. A mom fan could go to insane lengths for her star.
Because tickets couldn't be resold, only refunded, and thanks to a bunch of scalper assholes refreshing the app nonstop, even if two fans coordinated one refunding while the other bought, success was rare.
So the mom fans turned to Wang Yuan, volunteering en masse. Honestly, the volunteer lineup for this concert was absolutely unprecedented.