Facts are facts, reason's reason. World-famous newspapers all have branch offices in Europe and America, but here in Australia most national papers only station a few correspondents at best.
Take South Korea's Dong-A Ilbo for example. They don't even have a correspondent in Australia. If big news breaks here, they just reprint AAP reports. This time though, the paper actually sent a whole team over, and it's obviously because of Chu Zhi.
"Mr. Chu Zhi, after Unsinkable became a hit, you turned down a lot of films. Why'd you agree to star in The Matrix?"
"Mr. Chu Zhi, what're your box office expectations for The Matrix? Do you think you can beat Titanic?"
"You rejected the offer to score Star Wars, yet you took on The Matrix. Does that mean there's bad blood between you and Tony Hope?"
"News is spreading online that your old injury flared up during your concert in China. Is that true?"
"Fans staged a march in New York. What's your opinion on that, Mr. Chu Zhi?"
…
Every other member of the crew, even the director, was basically reduced to background props. Every microphone and camera lens was aimed squarely at Chu Zhi.
At first, reporters at least pretended to stick to the movie, asking questions about the new project. But after a while they stopped pretending and went straight for gossip about Chu Zhi's personal life.
"In today's world, if Mr. Chu Zhi isn't a global superstar, then who is?" Gregory's shiny bald head glowed under the spotlight, but even so he faded into near-invisibility next to him.
"In this age of distraction, stars who can focus the whole world's attention are incredibly rare," Gwen said. "Just the other day, I saw Vanity Fair's 2025 list of the 100 most powerful and influential people. Chu Zhi was ranked second, right after Zuckerberg, and even ahead of Google's three giants."
Google's fame hardly needs explanation. The three giants referred to its trio of core leaders, each billionaire CEOs taking home a one-dollar annual salary.
Excluding Chu Zhi, the top 18 on that list were all entrepreneurs. The first athlete, an NBA star, didn't appear until number 19. That alone shows just how hot Chu Zhi is in America right now.
"I used to think all those online stories about him were exaggerated. But then I read about that woman in Georgia who was so obsessed with Chu Zhi's looks she got plastic surgery to resemble him. Too bad it failed miserably." Rupert clicked his tongue. "Seeing the way these reporters react in person, I can finally grasp what true international stardom looks like."
"Plastic surgery to look like Mr. Chu Zhi?" Gwen looked stunned. "People actually do that kind of thing?"
"There are crazier cases," Rupert said. "One fan wanted to tattoo Chu Zhi's face on his leg, but he missed by a few centimeters and ended up with my face instead, Rupert Russell."
"Hold on," Gwen cut him off quickly. "If the tattoo artist missed by that much, then it's not just 'a few centimeters.' That's the difference between a sturgeon and an octopus. Worlds apart."
"My apologies, Rupert, I didn't mean anything else," Gregory tried to smooth things over. He admitted that Chu Zhi's looks as an Asian man were top-tier, and Rupert… well, his looks were objectively less fortunate.
"Don't you know? I actually share similar features with Chu Zhi, Douglas, and Zimmerman. It's just that I've aged." Rupert put on a straight face.
"Mr. Rupert, you really are funny," Gwen said.
"Your sense of humor might even be sharper than your acting," Gregory added.
While the three of them whispered on the side, Chu Zhi fielded the reporters' questions. Since this was a Matrix press event, he refused to answer anything unrelated. Priorities were priorities.
"I wanted to devote more time to music, so I turned down other film offers. But Mr. David was incredibly patient. He kept inviting me, over and over again. And honestly, being the Savior was my childhood dream. I couldn't realize it in real life, but playing the role in a film lets me fulfill it."
He didn't mention that he'd accepted the role because the script was strong or personally appealing. He simply emphasized the director's sincerity and his own childhood dream.
Director David and the producers were perfectly satisfied with his answers.
The launch ceremony wrapped up successfully. Sure, Chu Zhi's personal shine eclipsed the film itself, but at least the buzz was there, and Warner Bros. got what they wanted.
That night, he stayed at the Fullerton Hotel. He'd originally planned to fly home immediately, but there wasn't a good flight, so he settled for an early departure the next morning.
As for the Emperor Beast's stay at the Fullerton, well… aside from poor front desk service, outdated decor, and mediocre cleanliness, everything else was fine. Like the location. And the location. And oh right, the location.
"What about that fan march?" He still remembered the Los Angeles Times's question. He hadn't answered on the spot, but he kept it in mind. When it came to his Little Fruits, no matter how small the issue, the Emperor Beast always cared.
In New York, his fans had organized a march. The reason? His world tour picked Los Angeles instead of Madison Square Garden.
The New York Little Fruits insisted it must've been because he'd been sabotaged in Washington, so he had no choice but to skip New York.
That somehow escalated into a march with several thousand participants demanding the city release a financial report. "So much money spent, yet the nation's security isn't guaranteed."
"…"
Chu Zhi was speechless, but it didn't take him long to figure it out. He sighed. "American politicians really are T1 level. They'll use absolutely anything as a bargaining chip."
The march was riddled with holes. First, his injury happened in Washington DC, which has nothing to do with New York. Second, Madison Square Garden may be legendary and as coveted by singers as Hong Kong's Coliseum, but concerts aren't obligated to happen there. Venue scheduling, costs, and countless practical reasons make it easy to justify another choice.
A fan march based on such flimsy reasoning? Obviously manipulated by some hidden force. Once he understood, the Emperor Beast lost interest.
The next morning, Chu Zhi boarded a flight back to China. The second stop of his world tour, in Pengcheng, needed preparation, and the timing lined up.
At Bao'an Stadium, he didn't repeat his six-hour miracle, but the show still ran for four hours, longer than 99 percent of other concerts.
Fans were thrilled. Even though their tickets only promised a two-and-a-half-hour show, they got nearly double that. Especially since he'd recently been fined and criticized, this was his way of giving back.
The Pengcheng show went off perfectly. Once again he "greened" his Little Fruits' planet, leaving the audience touched all over again.
Naturally, the Orang Home app exploded with new registrations and activity.
But in the grand wheels of history, Chu Zhi's concerts were small things. What was big?
Shanghai was hosting another World Expo in 2026. After months of submissions, the official theme song was decided: 2026 Waiting for You.
These promotional anthems are always pre-recorded with a star-studded lineup. Everyone gets a line.
But here's how important Chu Zhi was to officials: he got two.
He, Lin Xia, Hou Yubin, Zheng Huo, Li Fei, and twenty others were all present. The Emperor Beast, with his endless connections, knew most of them.
That's just how the entertainment world works. Once you're famous, suddenly everyone around you's a good person.
"An 80,000-seat concert, huh? You really stole the spotlight," Zheng Huo said. "In all my years, the biggest I've ever pulled was 50,000."
"That's just because you never tried. If you wanted, not just 80,000, even 100,000 wouldn't be an issue," Chu Zhi replied.
Zheng Huo nodded. He believed it. At the Bird's Nest and the Coliseum, his shows had maxed at 50,000, but he knew plenty more fans couldn't get tickets.
"Still, a six-hour show, that's real rock and roll," he said.
Lin Xia chimed in too, amazed by the scale of 80,000. The Emperor Beast was puzzled. He'd googled a bit and thought, isn't 200,000-seat concerts in the golden era a thing? Even 600,000? So what's the big deal about 80,000?
That alone proved how out of touch he was. He never considered that 200,000 meant two days added together, and 600,000 meant 500,000 people standing outside.
Realistically, thanks to venue and stage limits, 100,000 is the max unless you go fully outdoors.
"Quick question, how do you even 'book' a subway? I've never heard of such a thing, so I'm curious," Lin Xia asked.
"The Shanghai subway stops around 11:30. If you want to book extra trains, you've gotta apply months in advance. It's even harder than chartering a plane. Takes layers of approval, so if you ever need it, apply at least three months ahead," Chu Zhi explained.
"I don't, I don't." Lin Xia waved his hands, then couldn't resist: "But how much would it cost, roughly?"
"If it's not expensive, then it's actually pretty cheap." Chu Zhi gave him the perfect Lin Xia-style answer.
"…" Lin Xia's eyes widened. He hadn't used his old "Lin the Waster" persona in years, but Chu Zhi's words triggered it right back out of his DNA.
"If you put it that way, brother Jiu, then you didn't really say anything at all," he muttered.
The two bantered casually. Lin Xia, now a content actor, shared some acting anecdotes, like working with Meng Wuping, the infamous "numbers guy" who recited 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 instead of lines.
"I've asked brother Jiu out so many times and you were always too busy. Finally met you today," Lin Xia added.
As they chatted, Li Fei showed up. He'd stayed away at first because he and Lin Xia had once been rival second-generation idols, fighting over resources. That rivalry only deepened when Li Fei was eventually knocked off the top charts while Lin Xia remained.
Sizing Chu Zhi up, Li Fei said, "Still as dazzling as ever. But hey, I've still got my old charm too, don't I?"
Same old Li Fei, still the awkward poser.
For those who don't remember him, a quick intro: classically trained in opera at the Central Conservatory, once a top idol. His fans were called "Reporters." He'd first met Chu Zhi at the Harbin Summer Music Festival. Loved to act superior, but compared to Chu Zhi's flair, his attempts were downright childish.
Still, the Emperor Beast had a way of catching even the most awkward boasts. That's why Li Fei saw him as a kindred spirit.
"Of course," Chu Zhi nodded seriously.
Unlike Lin Xia, Li Fei had stuck with music. But his opera albums in recent years had flopped for being too niche. Now, with a new project on the way, they naturally discussed music. Chu Zhi mentioned his third international album.
"The vision, brother Jiu, the vision!" Li Fei gave a thumbs-up. "Making world peace your theme. It's ambitious, but hey, foreigners eat that stuff up. Sales will be strong."
"I don't really care about sales," Chu Zhi said calmly. "My wish is world peace."
"…" Li Fei paused, then asked seriously, "Can you teach me how to pose as naturally as you do?"
Hou Yubin also wanted to chat, mostly to remind him to protect his throat. His whole family had attended the six-hour Shanghai concert, and even his daughter Hou Zhenzhen's vocal cords were inflamed after cheering, taking two days of bland food to recover.
But Chu Zhi was just too busy, greeting everyone he knew and even those he didn't. Hou Yubin decided not to squeeze in.
That's who the Emperor Beast was. Even at the height of fame, he greeted every senior with respect.
"Uncle Hou, seeing you so healthy is a relief. Your voice is strong, your breath steady. Truly a model of hale and hearty, evergreen spirit, and scholarly dedication!" Chu Zhi threw out three idioms at once.
"Hahaha, the first two kind of fit, but the third's way off," Hou Yubin chuckled. "Everlasting dedication refers to studying classics even in old age. Still sharp despite age would've been better."
Of course, Chu Zhi knew the original meaning. He even knew the phrase came from an old poet notorious for erotic verses.
Half an hour later, Punk walked in. Chu Zhi recognized the golden-handed producer, behind several albums netizens hailed as divine works.
The Expo bureau had spared no expense. With over twenty professional singers, recording went fast. By late afternoon, everything was done.
Then the Emperor Beast's tour rolled on, to Guangzhou, Tianjin, and Phoenix City, three shows in two weeks, each still over four hours.
By October 30, the MV for 2026 Waiting for You, featuring twenty-eight stars in chorus, was released online to promote the Expo.
Truth be told, events like Expos, summits, and world forums don't excite the general public. People just see them as symbols of national power.
This time, though, attention was higher than usual because Chu Zhi, Lin Xia, and Li Fei were involved. Especially Chu Zhi, whose every move sparked hype. His Little Fruits flooded timelines with shares.
"Awesome, awesome, awesome. 2026 Waiting for You!"
"Little Jiu, Little Jiu, today's a happy day, but I've gotta announce something sad. He's marrying me!"
"Don't spread rumors. I'm already pregnant with Jiu-yé's second kid."
"Don't say weird stuff here. This is Expo promo. Don't drag brother Jiu into scandals. I'm his real girlfriend, and I don't even say anything."
And so on.
Even after getting a small slap on the wrist over his concert, the Little Fruits were convinced: he was still the officials' favorite child.
Usually, official promos don't need heat. Platforms pin them automatically. This time was no different.
But a day or two later, public opinion shifted.
Music critic Gu Duofu posted: [2026 Waiting for You is the official Expo theme song, selected from the "City Song Contest." Composer: Miaomu. Lyricist: Wang Xi.
The lyrics aren't much to discuss, but aren't two passages of melody way too similar to the Japanese song As Long As You Don't Change? I hope the Expo bureau investigates.
Maybe Teacher Miaomu can clarify. Links attached.]
As Long As You Don't Change was sung by Hirogumo Ryōko, a Japanese singer once hailed as a "beautiful witch," back in the '90s. It was the theme of a flop drama, so even in Japan hardly anyone remembered it, let alone in China.
Most melon-eating netizens dismissed the post at first. "How ridiculous! The Expo's official theme song plagiarized? Laughable!"
But then some listened.
"…Wait, it really does sound alike."
"I thought this was just nonsense, but hey, official side, care to explain?"
"Maybe they bought the rights?"
"Bought? If they did, then Hirogumo's name should be in the credits. Unless you're telling me her Chinese name is Miaomu."
"Easiest way is to compare the sheet music. You can't just talk."
Suddenly, the Expo theme song itself was ignored, and the plagiarism scandal exploded. Hashtags like #ExpoSongPlagiarism shot straight to the top, no promotion needed.
Miaomu posted: [The melody of 2026 Waiting for You is my original work. Absolutely original. @GuDuofu, stop spreading lies or I'll pursue legal action.]
But comments flooded in.
"Bro, you didn't even tweak the stolen melody. Think we're deaf?"
"They've already compared the sheet music. Except for the intro synth, the rest is identical. You call that coincidence?"
"Even though I hate Gu Duofu, this time he didn't even make an accusation. He just asked a question. Seriously speechless."
"Big guts, plagiarizing a '99 song and pretending it's from 2025."
Sure, with decades of pop music, overlaps happen. But this overlap was way too blatant.
If Miaomu had admitted to "borrowing," maybe things wouldn't have blown up. But denying it flat-out only fanned the flames.
Soon, memes and parodies flooded in. An hour later, Miaomu shut down his comments section.
As China's voice in the world grew stronger, so did global scrutiny. Soon, the whole of Asia knew about the plagiarism scandal.
===
"只要你不改变" ("As Long As You Don't Change")
Original Japanese Title: "あなたが変わらないで" (Romaji: Anata ga Kawaranaide)
Original Singer: 広雲涼子 (Hirogumo Ryōko), who is described in the novel as a famous Japanese singer known as a "beautiful witch" (美魔女).
Key Context from the Text: The novel states that this Japanese song was a theme for an unsuccessful TV drama, so it never gained popularity in Japan or China, making the alleged similarity less likely to be noticed.