Politely turning down the Hudson River Club was just the opener. His inbox still held piles of invites from various associations. The agency had already filtered them, sending over what Niu Niu and the others thought had some value.
The Chinese Film and Television Actors Association, the Beijing Performers Association, the Chinese Performance Industry Association, the Chinese National Arts Association…
Seven domestic associations in total, plus three Asia-level association invites. Emperor Beast couldn't help sighing. Why does everything need an association? Does the performance industry really need this many?
He pushed down the urge to rant and carefully studied the detailed briefs the team sent for each association.
First, he rejected the three Asia-level ones. Take the Asian Young Musicians Association for example. It was legit and even organized the Asian Nations Arts Festival, but it was registered in Malaysia and wasn't recognized as top tier across Asia. To put it bluntly, if he joined, the association would borrow Emperor Beast's name to dress itself up as "authoritative."
At the same time, Chu Zhi understood why the agency had shortlisted it. Membership would influence the Asian Nations Arts Festival.
"It's not worth it. The key is, the Asian Nations Arts Festival isn't well recognized globally, or even across Asia."
Out of ten invites, Chu Zhi accepted two. Titles never hurt, sure, but too many would burn his energy dry. Even if each association only required him to attend an annual meeting, it'd be a lot. See also, the "Nobel Literature Prize curse."
"Speaking of which, this line of thinking could work," Chu Zhi murmured, a lightbulb flicking on.
He found a little known Asian music association, also legitimate, founded in Hong Kong. The current president, Park Hoi, was South Korean and also chaired the Modern Music League. The association focused on exchange in classical areas like violin and piano.
If he joined directly, riding his current fame, he'd likely be pushed into a vice president seat. In two or three years, becoming president would be a done deal.
The association already ran five event pillars, the Singapore International Youth Arts Festival, the Singapore International Choral Masterclass, the Asian Youth Music Season, the Hong Kong International Piano Competition, and the Hong Kong International Violin Competition. If Chu Zhi joined, he could leverage his influence to found an Asian Rising Stars competition.
If it worked, it'd open a new road for Chinese singers.
Opening a new road didn't mean cheating. It meant giving capable newcomers with ordinary looks more ways to get seen. Any effective channel to get noticed is a new road.
If he wanted the association to matter, a single star wasn't enough. Even Chu Zhi had limits. It was like a certain department head's Pingyao Film Festival, which invited a bunch of heavyweights onto the advisory board.
For Chu Zhi, whose network was equally broad, inviting people would be the easy part. In classical, he could bring in Vietnam's national treasure pianist Dang Thai Son, and in pop, the list of names he could reach was long…
Emperor Beast really did look like a standard-bearer for a new generation of Chinese music, working in a down-to-earth way to win real benefits for newcomers.
The next morning dawned bright, like the smiles on students' faces on a Friday afternoon. Chu Zhi's team got up early and split up.
Chu Zhi headed to finish the last shots of an MV. Lao Qian flew to Amsterdam Schiphol. Of course not just his head flew, the rest of him went too.
"The internet keeps getting faster," Lao Qian sighed. "It's got pros and cons."
There were countless pros, but right now the con was that information spread too fast and created headaches.
Orange Home had lots of perks, and the overseas Orange Family app had settled into a groove. Little Fruits abroad knew about the benefits too. You just couldn't double standard it too obviously.
So, many perks needed to be ported over. Today, Lao Qian had to handle "help Little Fruits fulfill a wish." Last year's draw had picked a 27-year-old Dutch fan.
How to put it… European fans' wishes were very different from Asian fans'. The latter mostly wanted to meet their idol. In Japan and South Korea, many wished to have dinner with their idol.
European fans… take the twenty-seven-year-old doctoral candidate, Kobert. He actually wished to win the lottery. ["Oh mighty Chu, bless me to win the Staatsloterij prize, I'm begging you."]
Lao Qian arrived in Volendam. He first met a Dutchman, thin on hair, heavy on drip, wearing a sizzling pink suit that even he struggled to pull off.
A strong man indeed, Lao Qian thought, looking him up and down.
"This outfit was almost inhuman. It was approaching Mu Chire's taste level," Lao Qian muttered to himself.
Pink Suit Guy was thrilled and even tried to drag Lao Qian to a nearby diner for a drink.
The item in question was a Staatsloterij Christmas ticket, third prize, 150,000 euros.
According to Dutch law, big prizes paid hefty taxes. Selling to Lao Qian meant the guy pocketed the full amount, so of course he was happy.
When Lao Qian checked the ticket and transferred the money, Pink Suit Guy practically wanted to swear brotherhood on the spot.
Ticket in hand, Lao Qian headed back, sighing on the way. "This trend isn't good. I'll write a report when I'm back. We can't let this spread, or the event loses its meaning."
It was easy to imagine. If every winner wished for money, other fans would slowly get assimilated.
Sure, having dinner with your idol is amazing, but it's also equivalent to tens or hundreds of thousands in cash. How many fans could resist?
"Who can tell me the exact date Mr. Jiu will hold his concert in Spain? I want to give him the most precious gift.
Also, does anyone know someone called Star Karno? Some obscure singer from who-knows-where claimed he'll surpass Brother Jiu. How ridiculous is that?
On another note, Europeans in the music scene seem so arrogant lately. A show (FOX's Masked Singer) brought out a contestant—a 'lame angel'—and claimed his technique beats Mr. Jiu's. As a professional producer, my professional take is that while the angel's main edge is his tone, Chu is technically stronger. Although, to be fair, let's not generalize all Europeans; I'm watching closely, and one of them, Azazel, has technique that should be on par with Brother Jiu."
Lao Qian scrolled the Orange Family comment section. With several foreign ex-girlfriends and multiple languages under his belt, he read smoothly.
Watching so many people argue whether Chu Zhi or Azazel had better technique was, honestly, pretty entertaining.
"Never thought this would happen. I used to think Jiu-yé made this app just to burn money. Turns out it's a trump card now," Lao Qian muttered. So this was what it meant to actually be friends with fans.
Don't be fooled by tens of millions of followers on public platforms. If a platform decides to ban you, you've got no recourse at all.
Chu Zhi controlled his own channel. Sure, some forces could still shut down an entire app, but that took state-level power. With control of the channel, any single faction targeting him would have to think twice.
The fan app had two versions, Orange Home for domestic, Orange Family for overseas. Lao Qian felt it wouldn't be long before they split to Europe, Asia, and the Americas too.
While Chu Zhi's team fanned out, a different set of heads clustered together at FOX for an emergency exec meeting.
President Roger, Vice President James, Entertainment Network Content Director, also a VP, Efron, and PR head Kissingler, along with several decision makers, were all summoned after hearing Chu Zhi's third-round song choice.
A bunch of foreign names, easy to mix up, and honestly, not worth remembering. The chief director, Lukinsky, sat at the end of the table. He wasn't important either.
"Today isn't April Fools' Day. Are you kidding me? Singing that song on our show? Did you forget our political stance?" James jumped up first. He'd once been a hardcore Trump supporter.
"I think a variety show, especially a singing show, shouldn't carry an overly strong political stance," Kissingler said. "And I believe this song will bring high ratings. Masked Singer could hit national-level heat. Considering the board's interests, my view is, don't interfere."
All the stuff he said up front was nonsense. What made James swallow his comeback was four words, "the board's interests."
"I'm speaking for the network's overall interest. If we get tagged as pro-China, the network suffers greater losses," James said.
"What a singer chooses to sing is on the singer. That would make the contestant pro-China, not the network. What's it got to do with us?" Kissingler said, then summed up sincerely, "Glory to God, responsibility to the contestant. We did nothing."
Shameless as hell, Lukinsky thought, spitting at Kissingler in his heart. But he also felt real support. Contestant, fly as bravely as you want. If something blows up, you take the fall.
"Do you think the opposition will count ABC like a schoolteacher before slapping on a label? They won't care about the difference between a contestant and a platform. They aren't Serena, Angel, or Thomason," James said.
Serena, Angel, and Thomason were top baby names on the 2024 list. In James's usage, they stood for "elementary schoolers."
"I don't think that either. But I also don't think the board will abandon a bigger profit because of that risk," Kissingler said.
American entertainment had a very mature business model. TV monetization tricks were old news. Higher ratings meant advertisers paid more.
Kissingler and James argued. Other execs joined in. The camps were clear, one for each view. The words were business, the hearts were all isms and bias.
The air tightened. You could almost see the sparks.
"Hold on, gentlemen. Our whole debate assumes we can change the Chinese singer's choice," Efron said. "But can we make him change his mind? Can we?"
Silence dropped. Right. After all that noise, could they actually sway him? Chu Zhi wasn't some pliable Hollywood star you could push around.
President Roger asked, "Can we influence Mr. Chu Zhi's decision?"
He was asking Lukinsky, the only one who had actually dealt with the man.
All eyes turned to the lowest ranking person present. Lukinsky blinked back to himself after a brief daze.
"To a large extent, no. Mr. Chu is a classic artist type. He's easygoing about anything outside the work. Once it's about the work, he's immovable."
Hearing the chief director call Chu Zhi an artist got two reactions. James's camp sneered. A Chinese pop singer, an artist? They were almost all people who hadn't watched the first performance.
Don't be surprised that execs didn't watch their own network's shows. Thinking they all did would be stranger.
The rest had seen that first stage. To them, calling Chu Zhi an artist was obvious.
"If he won't change the song, just eliminate him," James blurted.
In their own backyard, how could they let a Chinese singer swagger?
He realized immediately he'd said the wrong thing. Right now, the show needed Chu Zhi more than Chu Zhi needed the show.
Awkward. What made it worse was that no one picked up his line.
Damn it, someone throw him a lifeline. James glanced around. Finally, someone spoke.
Roger said, "Can any of you tell me with certainty that letting Mr. Chu sing a rock arrangement of 'The Internationale' won't cause problems?"
"Of course it won't. You're giving one song too much weight," Kissingler said, producing a report. "Arturo Toscanini, founder of the realist conducting school, conducted the NBC Symphony in America performing it."
"That's far back. More recently, Alite Okun led tens of thousands to sing 'The Internationale' in concert. And there were marches where thousands sang it, more than once. We're the land of freedom. We tolerate any idea."
Right. What couldn't free America do? With precedents on the table, the execs thought hard. There really wasn't a problem. You could even blast it outside the White House. As long as you didn't cause a disturbance, nobody would care.
"Mr. Lukinsky, still, please discuss with Mr. Chu Zhi, and push for a song change," Roger said, putting a lid on the meeting.
Cut to another scene. The little "dogtail flowers" chatted away. The "white lotus" had flown back home.
Should we hold separate Orange Festivals overseas and domestically? For that proposal, Chu Zhi said no.
Plenty of overseas fans watched the Orange Festival, which gave them a base to quietly export culture. For example, at this year's seventh festival, the freebies were the Four Great Classical Novels, and the hall décor leaned traditional Chinese, like reliefs of the Fish Pool Flying Bridge.
You didn't need to make it obvious. Layer by layer, year by year, the output added up.
The second item, "Besieged on All Sides"s shelf date options, April 10 or May 2
By the way, the Chinese album's post production had been fully completed two days ago. The next step was to pick a release date.
Those two windows had been carefully chosen. After thinking it over, Chu Zhi decided, "Brother System, you pick."
[April 10,] the System replied.
Chu Zhi asked, "Why?"
[One reason you're releasing a Chinese album is the tour. An earlier release lets fans get familiar with the songs sooner, so they can sing along better at the concerts.]
"Makes sense. Alright, April it is," Chu Zhi nodded. "April, the first physical album sold in China drops. In June, Unsinkable hits theaters. A few months later, the 8th-anniversary world tour kicks off. It's a big year."
"For the next half year, I'll probably be a daily hot search," Chu Zhi stretched.
Listen to Emperor Beast, talking like he ever fell off the hot searches.
A week flew by. The global entertainment world did its usual tricks. A Hollywood megastar got blasted onto the hot list for a domestic violence scandal.
Even that nationwide gossip didn't dent FOX's Saturday heat. At 8 p.m., North American viewers piled in, waiting for Masked Singer.
FOX played it sly in the episode two promo, dropping the line, "Azazel's true identity about to be exposed?" That question mark was key, a tiny hook hanging off a giant word.
===
I decide to change his album name 'Surrounded on All Sides' to 'Besieged on All Sides'