Normally, concerts don't even make it onto trending searches. They're mostly shared around on friend circles and Penguin Space.
After all, concerts only bring in tens of thousands of people. For the whole fan circle, or even the internet, that's tiny. But Chu Zhi seemed determined to try something completely new.
#6-Hour Extreme Concert#
#Little Fruits Star That'll Never Be Deleted#
#Hundreds of Fans With Throat Hemorrhage#
#Thousands Standing Outside#
#Sincerity Is Still Damn Sincerity#
#You're My Greatest Pride in Life#
#You Can Always Trust Brother Jiu to Pamper Fans#
The concert ended at midnight, but even past midnight, Chu Zhi was still changing the colors of internet keywords.
To borrow a line from Zhou Yiyu's sleepy muttering while meeting the Duke of Zhou in a dream: "If one day I become Chu Zhi, I'll dare make heaven and earth change color." That was exactly the feeling right now.
The discussion exploded.
User [背灯和月就花阴星如雨] was in disbelief: "Six-hour concert??? No way, there had to be guest singers, right? Forget singing, even if you just livestreamed six hours of talking, your throat would be ruined."
"I was a volunteer on site, no guest singers, it was six hours straight of Xiao Jiu performing alone. Of course it was exhausting."
"Do you even understand the weight of performing over fifty songs in a row?"
"I was outside the venue. Even standing there from seven to twelve, I was exhausted. Between songs, his breathing breaks never lasted more than two minutes."
"…Fine, I wasn't there. Boohoo, I didn't get a ticket. Boohoo."
Explosive, straight up explosive. Even people who don't chase stars or follow celebrity circles understood the weight of six hours.
What kind of concept is that?! Just imagine your ass sitting on a hard plastic stool for six hours, it'd hurt like hell.
Little Fruits and fans who didn't get tickets regretted it like crazy. Think about it, a thousand-plus yuan inner-field ticket. Divide that down, it was barely two hundred per hour. That's what you'd pay at a decent massage parlor.
At first, it was only Little Fruits who regretted missing tickets. But once this news blew up, even passersby regretted it. After all, Emperor Beast's albums had stood the test of time on Earth, and in this parallel world they spread even further. No matter how you looked at it, the value was insane.
This move by Emperor Beast? The entire domestic industry got rolled hard. The shock was felt strongest among the five new-generation top idols.
Zhou Yiyu thought to himself, "If one day I become Chu Zhi… Forget it, I don't want to be Chu Zhi. That's too damn exhausting."
The badminton boy didn't even have any standout works, and he'd only debuted less than five years. Still, he'd held several concerts. Counting the encore, each was only about 130 minutes, and he'd already been wiped out.
In his own words, it was more tiring than playing two official badminton matches. Yet Chu Zhi casually threw down 360 minutes, equal to three of his concerts back-to-back. Just thinking about it was despair-inducing.
"There's only one brother Jiu, no one can imitate him." Zhou Yiyu muttered, then suddenly hyped himself up. "But there's also only one Zhou Yiyu!"
Then there was Lin Weiran. His reaction leaned toward embarrassment. When he'd first become a top idol, he and Min Jeongbae had been regulars on Ace vs. Ace. Back then, young and arrogant, he thought the gap between himself and Chu Zhi was just ninety to a hundred.
Until the production team invited the real deal. Even the TV station producer and vice president treated him with respect. Lin Weiran realized the truth: it wasn't ninety to a hundred, it was ninety to a thousand. One missing zero, worlds apart.
"Sometimes, I really envy Chu Zhi."
Meng Wuping saw the trending search and thought maybe this was why he'd never achieve Chu Zhi's level. Because he simply couldn't. All he felt now was admiration.
Not that it stayed long in his mind. Soon his thoughts were overtaken by another matter. The heir of LG Group, Koo Yeon-pyo , had invited him to dinner.
He wasn't a newbie in the entertainment circle. A little asking around told him exactly what kind of man Koo Yeon-pyo was. He'd turned him down once, but that wasn't a long-term solution. His agency couldn't protect him against LG.
He even thought, "Why not Chu Zhi? He's way more good-looking than me." But then he remembered how the nation reacted when Chu Zhi was assassinated. No matter how big LG was, they wouldn't dare.
The last one was Sun Shi. He'd just finished a round with his girlfriend back at his apartment, and now life suddenly felt like a void. His group had just released a new song this week. Forgot to mention, Sun Shi was a member of "Little.moon"—though the group was basically dead, each member flying solo now. Sun Shi had only recently reached top traffic star status.
This album was their last as a group. With company funding and their fanbase, it sold well digitally and sparked plenty of discussion.
Then he looked online, and all the hot searches were about "In Harmony with Chu · World Tour, Shanghai stop."
"How the hell can someone sing for six hours straight? Doesn't he care about his voice?"
"I've figured it out. Strip away all the impossible, and what remains, however impossible, must be the truth."
"Chu Zhi's not human!"
Sun Shi felt dizzy. He didn't know if it was low blood sugar after exercise or just how much the trending searches hit him.
Either way, his thoughts were nonsense, but they echoed the gut reaction of countless stars seeing the hot search.
Absurd.
Straight-up absurd. What kind of monster rolls this hard?!
One trending tag fit perfectly: #Hundreds of Fans With Throat Hemorrhage#. The report came from Toutiao, and this time it wasn't clickbait. They had video evidence and even interviewed two patients at the hospital.
The video showed a man in pajama-like trench coat. Let's just call him Mr. Li.
Mr. Li was excited beyond words during the interview: "Now this is a concert! A sore throat's totally normal. Even at KTV, you shout for two or three hours and your throat hurts. But four or five hours of live singing? Of course it hurts, but it's awesome!"
He gestured wildly as he spoke. His body was clearly tired, but his brain was still hyped.
Netizens commented—
Wild Horse Law: "Holy shit holy shit what a trash concert! I went home and my throat felt like it got slashed by knives. Worse than tonsillitis!"
Moon Moves Among the Stars: "No dog-head emoji? Switch the guy upstairs into enemy uniform and bury him already."
MOMOk: "So jealous, six hours straight, I might as well chop off my hands. I didn't get a single ticket."
ye_azui: "Saw tons of videos in my friends' circle, the atmosphere was amazing. After it ended, brother Jiu worried fans couldn't get rides, so he literally booked two subway trains to send the audience home for free… Seriously, I never knew you could even book subway trains, no clue how much that costs, but I've never seen it before."
This was why Chu Zhi could unify the fan circle. Some even said the number of Little Fruits had surpassed all fangirls combined. It was this kind of unique, one-of-a-kind fan pampering.
The next morning.
The sun was bright, and Chu Zhi still woke up early.
"Jiu-yé, who was that call from just now?"
"The cultural committee in Shanghai."
"No wonder. You went way over time yesterday. How's your throat holding up?"
"Two days' rest should fix it. As long as my vocal cords don't rupture, it's fine."
"Cutting it close."
Lao Qian's chat revealed two things. Chu Zhi's vocal cords were slightly congested, and he'd already had nebulizer treatment that night. Also, the cultural committee had called because the concert had run way over.
Every city's cultural committee is a bit different, usually made up of divisions like Culture Bureau, Heritage Protection, Press and Publishing, Broadcasting, and so on.
"Wait, Brother Qian, I need to take this call." Chu Zhi's phone buzzed again, this time from the city Public Security Bureau.
He gestured OK, and Lao Qian went quiet.
"Sorry for the trouble."
"My apologies."
"Whatever punishment is necessary, please go ahead. I should set an example."
After hanging up, Chu Zhi had accepted a penalty for disturbing the peace. Even without complaints from residents, going over so much time affected traffic and forced police to work overtime.
The calls from the cultural committee and the bureau were all about this. As a counselor in the advisory office, plus holding honorary posts, Chu Zhi could've easily smoothed things over with a phone call. It really wasn't a big deal.
But he wasn't the type to abuse privilege. He even suggested they use his case as an example. He wanted to lead by example!
After all, if he didn't say anything, how would passersby and Little Fruits know? Ahem… slipped out his true thoughts there. Either way, Chu Zhi was determined to brand "integrity" on his forehead.
"Bird'll be back soon, Jiu-yé, better lay low." Lao Qian suddenly said.
"Hmm… good idea. I'm flying to Sydney anyway. Heading out now." Chu Zhi thought a moment, then hurried off with Xiao Zhuzi.
While he was on his way to the airport, here's some background. To hold a stadium concert in a city, you first apply to the cultural committee for a performance permit. Then you apply to public security for a safety approval.
Both permits are tough to get. Add in the stadium schedule, and you often have to queue. Like the Bird's Nest concert in the capital with 100,000 seats, it's slotted for the end of December.
Ten minutes after Emperor Beast left, Fei-ge knocked on the office door with a grim look. No answer. He knocked harder.
Inside his head: Open up, open up, I know you're in there.
"Jiu-yé went to the airport." Lao Qian said lazily from the side.
"Airport?" Fei-ge glanced at his watch. According to the schedule, there were still two hours before departure.
"The flight got moved up, so he left early." Lao Qian lied smoothly, then asked, "What did you need Jiu-yé for? If it's urgent, just call him. He should still be on the road."
"Not that important." Fei-ge said after a pause. "I'll talk to brother Jiu after he's back from Australia."
What he'd wanted to say was, that 1.5 million penalty for overtime at Shanghai's 80,000 stadium could've been avoided. Total wasted money.
Fines for overtime aren't unusual in the industry. Contracts set usage time, and if you go over, you pay extra.
Even though tickets said 150 minutes, the contract with the stadium was actually for 240 minutes. The Aiguo team had expected the eighth anniversary concert would run long, but never thought even that wouldn't be enough.
Since he couldn't find Chu Zhi, Fei-ge decided to talk with Niutou. Maybe they could extend stadium usage next time, pay an extra few hundred thousand, and avoid multi-million fines.
By midday, while Chu Zhi was en route to Sydney, the internet shifted again.
Voice of Culture & Tourism: [#Deepening Governance in Entertainment Sector#, #Strengthening Supervision of Concerts#. Concerts are a platform for fans and idols, but please remember public order. @EatABigOrange.]
Out of respect for Chu Zhi's position, even though he'd suggested making himself an example, the official account kept it mild.
But right after, China News Weekly reported another Chu Zhi matter:
[Chu Zhi faces massive fine for overtime concert. #ChuZhiFined1.5Million# According to the stadium manager, fines were applied per contract.]
What's pouring oil on fire?
What's tossing salt into flames?
These two reports explained it perfectly.
The internet was already buzzing—
"Little Jiu pampers fans too much. He's getting fined for it."
"Even got called out by officials. Ahhh, Jiu-yé has always been a positive image. This time it's so sad."
"I don't think it's his fault. He just doesn't know how to say no to Little Fruits."
"Waaah, fined and named, Jiu-yé must be heartbroken."
…
Fans were devastated. Their idol had always been the nation's positive energy, and now, just this once, he'd been named because of them. It cut like a knife.
Plenty of Little Fruits lost appetite from the guilt.
Even Zhang Ning came out to speak. She was a hugely popular actress, once part of the Beautiful Heroes Squad, and a well-known Little Fruit. Maybe not as crazy as Koguchi Yoshihiro, but her account was filled with Chu Zhi posts. Whenever he dropped a new song or movie, she always shared it.
Zhang Ning: [It's a little over the top. It was supposed to be 150 minutes, but it ended up over 350… that's like two concerts plus another hour. Little Jiu, you can't spoil fans without limits.
Looking at today's hot search, hundreds of fans hurt their vocal cords singing along. Even though singers have better vocal techniques, you still need to take care of your throat if you want to sing for decades.
Pampering fans is good, but don't hurt yourself.]
Her post wasn't just shared by Little Fruits, but even by passersby who didn't chase stars. They didn't care about the fines, they just wanted Chu Zhi to take care of his voice and keep singing great songs.
More and more people joined the chorus advising him. One math genius netizen even calculated:
"Bro, take it easy. You promised to sing until ninety. That's seventy more years. Two albums a year, fifteen songs each, that's around 3,000 songs still owed. Don't slack off. Keep your voice and body healthy."
Another asked, why was the Ministry of Culture and Tourism involved when it was just a stadium fine?
"In China, performance regulation's strict. Foreign singers coming to hold concerts have to file even the number of backup dancers and performance content. For domestic artists, the application's looser, but you still need to state minimum duration and song count. Usually, Culture only checks if the company has proper licenses and meets consumer guarantees. But since Chu Zhi went way over time, them stepping in was a first. Just shows Chu Zhi's way too generous!"