A little fun fact, the "Eighty Thousand Stadium" in the Magic City doesn't actually hold eighty thousand people. The name came from when it was first built, since they wanted to meet the IOC's standards for a main Olympic venue, so they slapped the slogan "Eighty Thousand Stadium" on it. In the end, because of all kinds of limitations, it was finished with just over fifty thousand seats. But the name had already spread, so they just went along with it.
With extra chairs set up on the floor, they could force a ninety-thousand-seat concert, but that would be way too crowded. After running the numbers, Chu Zhi's team decided on eighty-five thousand seats. At that very moment, outside the venue, six long black lines of people wound around the building again and again, all because there were only six ticket gates.
"La la la, we ordinary folks, today we're so happy, we ordinary folks, truly so happy…"
Wang Zexun had managed to snag a ticket. His internet speed and reflexes were solid, so he slipped through the entrance with ease.
"Do you want a lightstick or cheering goods?" a volunteer girl asked.
How did he know right away she was a volunteer? Sure, everyone was in orange, but the volunteers' clothes were all matching, with a giant "Zhi" character printed across them. Anyone who'd joined the fourth Orange Festival would recognize it as the same merch set once given to the Little Fruits.
That was one of the perks of being a volunteer at the concert.
The lightsticks were just glow sticks for waving, usually free at concerts unless you ran into some shameless celebrity who charged for them.
The cheering goods were orange balloons that said, "Together With Chu, My Heart Burns For Zhi," and orange scarves.
"How much for everything?" Wang Zexun asked, tempted by the scarf. The end of it had a cute cartoon orange slice.
"The scarf's five yuan, the balloon and lightstick are free," the volunteer said.
"Five yuan?" He froze. That was a Pinduoduo price if he'd ever seen one. Even though he'd never been into idols before, he'd gone to offline League of Legends matches, and even the cheapest keychains or scarves there were fifty yuan at least.
Was she missing a zero? He almost asked, but the Little Fruit behind him couldn't wait. "Five yuan? I'm definitely getting one!"
So the volunteer handed over the full set—lightstick, balloon, and scarf.
"Can I pay with WeChat? I'll take a set too." He scanned and paid right away. The scarf's material actually felt pretty nice, almost like it was sold at cost price.
Maybe it was psychological, but when he wrapped it around his neck, he felt warm inside.
Every Little Fruit who came in got a set, some even bought three or four for their friends.
To put it in perspective, among the volunteer "mom fans," four were on Forbes' "40 Under 40 Most Influential Women," two were listed on Fortune's "Global Most Promising Women in Business," and one even cracked Hurun's "Top 10 Female Billionaires in China." These women could've easily handed out the scarves for free, but Wang Yuan decided charging cost price was still best.
Wang Zexun found his seat, an 1888-yuan floor ticket in VIP Zone 4, Row 6, Seat 7. He hadn't even looked at the Zone 1 or 2 tickets—they were completely out of his budget.
Overall, he thought the price wasn't bad. He'd checked online and found that concerts by Sun Shi or Zhou Yiyu charged over two thousand for floor tickets. As for the first few rows, they never even made it online. If you got them from scalpers, you'd pay five digits easy.
"I'm ready, I'm ready," Wang Zexun muttered as he sat, everything prepared except for Chu Feng's arrival.
The once-empty stadium filled up fast. He noticed fans around him holding not only glow sticks but also self-made banners: [With Brother Jiu For Life], [Protect Our Xiao Jiu], [I9], [Jiu-yé Shines], [Forever By Your Side]…
The lighting, sound, and crew were all ready. The backup dancers waited in their tent-like prep area, full of energy.
The stage had been specially designed. Spotlights pierced down like sunlight through clouds, breaking the dark sky and shining on the ground. The stage floor had responsive lighting, pushing the visual experience even further.
All four sides opened to face the crowd, and the central steel frames were wrapped in light-absorbing materials, like a great tree connecting heaven and earth. Around it were three elevating platforms.
The giant screen started its countdown: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6…
Chu Zhi stood on the rising platform, silently rehearsing his opening lines in his head. He felt calm. As Emperor Beast, he'd been through too many big stages to lose his cool.
When the platform rose level with the stage, the spotlights hit him, and the sight before his eyes was something he'd never forget.
At 7:00 sharp, night had fallen. Normally, the stadium would be pitch black, blending seamlessly into the night sky. But tonight, all he saw was a sea of orange.
Like an ocean with fish, shrimp, crabs, jellyfish, and corals, this orange ocean was full of dazzling vitality.
He didn't see sea creatures, but he did feel life. Real, raw life.
"Xiao Jiu, Xiao Jiu, with you forever!"
"Zhi with you, always together!"
"One heart, one mind, long and lasting Jiu!"
"Unchanging heart, Zhi forever lives on!"
Tens of thousands of fans shouted in unison, their voices crashing together like waves. Everything he'd prepared to say vanished from his mind, drowned in orange.
He stood frozen for half a minute, while the cheers thundered on nonstop.
"I…" He tried to speak once he snapped out of it, but happiness swelled in his chest, wrapping his heart in a thin, fragile layer that stole his words.
It wasn't like winning the lottery or having a crush accept his confession. This fragile joy pressed on his tear ducts until his eyes stung.
"You're the brightest orange in the night," he finally said. "Tonight's concert is our time, so let's be happy together."
The crowd erupted. His passive skill, "Life of the Party," activated, sharpening his senses. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, but he felt tipsy on pure emotion.
"The first song is a new one," he said. "For every fan here, and every fan who couldn't make it."
"And for the Little Fruit Xiao Ai who went to the Little Fruit Star," he added silently.
The cheers softened into quiet anticipation. No matter how excited they were, listening to their idol came first.
"Only Jiu-yé would dare to start a concert with a new song," Wang Zexun muttered, balloon in one hand, glow stick in the other.
He caught the title—"Kepler."
Weird name. Clearly, his astronomy and math weren't great, since Kepler's Laws, the three laws of planetary motion, were middle-school science.
Not that it mattered. The warped synths and pounding drums in the intro already hooked him. Faint astronaut comms drifted through the mix.
🎵 "Even if I can't reach you, become my brightest star, I'll still lend you my light." 🎵
🎵 "Casting it to you, until your brilliance hangs gently in the faraway sky." 🎵
Chu Zhi thought of the Little Fruit named Ai Yu.
With the memory came the sterile hospital room, the suffocating air.
Even after two or three years, her frail, thin face was carved deep into his mind like lines in the folds of his brain.
["I saw brother Jiu. I bet a lot of Little Fruits are jealous.
Doctor said you've lost faith in chemo, Xiao Ai. That's not okay. We promised to meet at the 8th anniversary concert.
I'll fight with everything I've got. I'll wait for the song brother Jiu sings just for me."]
In his heart, Chu Zhi whispered, "Xiao Ai, you didn't keep your promise."
He didn't add any special effects, no "Voice of Despair" or "Angel's Gospel." His voice alone, raw and unembellished, carried the emotion.
🎵 "When you're quiet, in the cold galaxy above, will the shimmering waves be warm enough for you?" 🎵
🎵 "When you think of it, that light born from me, I'll still sing for you." 🎵
🎵 "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, like your body, hidden among countless lonely stars, yet I can still find you." 🎵
He lifted his gaze toward the night sky. The Little Fruit Star couldn't be seen with the naked eye, but he knew exactly where it was.
🎵 "Shining above, reflecting my solitude, reminding me I'm just another lonely star." 🎵
🎵 "When you're quiet, in the cold galaxy above, will the shimmering waves be warm enough for you?" 🎵
🎵 "When you think of it, that light born from me, I'll still sing for you." 🎵
The hospital memory folded into squares, flattening until they became four sticky notes.
[Get better with Jiu-yé]
[Earn a star on Orang Home App]
[Buy mom a massage chair for her back pain]
[8th Anniversary Concert! Must get a ticket!]
The last sticky note was in Chu Zhi's pocket right now.
🎵 "In this vast world, in this endless sea of people, we reflect each other's light." 🎵
🎵 "When we carry on, pouring every ounce of longing into this one song for you, for you—" 🎵
The volunteers finished their tasks and finally sat down to listen, including Zheng Xianbi, the founder of Chifang Tech. She hadn't worked this hard in a long time.
But the moment the song began, she felt everything was worth it.
All the hassle, all the stress, turned into little background details that didn't matter in the glow of the music.
There were no dancers for this warm-up track, but the crowd came alive.
His voice was pure and crisp, like ice-cold orange juice at the perfect moment—refreshing to the soul.
🎵 "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, like your body, hidden among countless lonely stars, yet I can still find you." 🎵
🎵 "Shining above, reflecting my past, reminding me I'm no longer a lonely star." 🎵
Eighty thousand fans waved their orange lightsticks in perfect rhythm, waves upon waves rolling through the stadium…
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克卜勒 (Kèpǔlè) — originally by S.H.E. (台湾女子组合 S.H.E)
Kepler's Laws (行星三大定律): Three laws of planetary motion discovered by Johannes Kepler, commonly taught in middle school science.
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I'm crying again in here
(ಥ﹏ಥ)