During his recovery, Emperor Beast asked the doctor what he could and couldn't do. He learned that while he couldn't overwork his body, reading and writing were fine.
The attending physician made it clear though: dealing with business matters couldn't exceed two hours a day. Even visits from friends had to be capped at two hours.
Plenty of people from the entertainment industry came by, like Cai Jia, Min Jeongbae, and Li Fei. But the ones who visited most often were Wang Yuan and Su Shangbai. Wang Yuan showed up almost every other day, while Su Shangbai came four times in two weeks, despite his Dabaitang corporate headquarters being in Southeast Asia.
Every time Su Shangbai came, he'd get serious and say the same three things: "Go to the US less, be careful, stay safe."
Meanwhile, in the nurse station…
"Sis, we're real sisters. If your stomach hurts, let me take your shift. No need to thank me," Nurse Xiao Rong said warmly, full of sincerity, like she'd sacrifice anything for her sister's health. "Just take leave and go home to rest."
"…" Nurse Xiao Qing protested. "It's just a little pain, I'll be fine if I endure it. Let's stick to the schedule. But wait, you're on the night shift today, right? Want me to cover for you instead? Isn't it Valentine's Day? You should head out early and spend time with your boyfriend."
"Let me, the single dog, bear all the suffering!" Xiao Qing said righteously.
Xiao Rong muttered, "He's working overtime tonight, so no need."
In the station, the two nurses politely "argued," their grins stretching nearly to their ears as they tried to give each other the shift. What a heartwarming scene.
Today, they were assigned to Huashan Hospital's VIP ward. Xiao Qing carried breakfast from the private cafeteria to Room 03A.
At the door stood a burly guard, face stern, like half a steel tower rooted to the ground.
Xiao Qing knocked. A man's voice came through the door, "Come in."
The single VIP room cost 1,200 yuan a night without a companion bed, basically equal to a four-star hotel suite.
"Sister Nurse, what's for breakfast today?" Chu Zhi asked.
"Perch and veggie congee, plus the small plate of pickled mustard greens you specifically requested," Xiao Qing answered. That "Sister" made her heart tremble. After all, she was a casual fan herself, the kind who just supported whoever was handsome and famous. And in front of her was a battle-scarred heartthrob!
Otherwise, why do you think she and Xiao Rong fought to take this shift?
"Brother Jiu, are you feeling anything unusual today?" she asked.
"My lower back feels a little sore," he said.
"Sore?" Xiao Qing immediately replied, "I'll call the doctor right away."
"I think it's just that the bed's too soft. I'm used to sleeping on a hard bed," he explained.
"I'll still report it to Doctor Wang," she insisted.
"Then I'll trouble you, sister nurse," he said politely.
Every morning around nine, the doctors came for rounds. His attending physician was Director Wang from the Department of Rehabilitation Medicine.
At about nine-thirty, Chu Zhi spent two hours on work matters. A team member would report company updates.
"Princess Sofia of Spain raised sixteen million euros in donations. The money was transferred through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and is now in Aiguo's account. How should we handle it?" Niu Jiangxue asked.
He frowned. "I'm not exactly short on cash. I've got tens of billions. Why raise donations for me?"
She spread her hands. She didn't know either. The Spanish embassy had forwarded it through official channels, so there wasn't even room to refuse.
"Sofia and a lot of rich kids in Spain are your fans. They wanted to help somehow," she explained.
"What does the team think we should do with it?" he asked.
"We all agree we should accept it differently. Like starting a charity foundation," Niu Jiangxue said. "Lao Qian suggested something really good. Fifteen million euros is no small sum. We could use it to set up a [Song Award] in Spain."
She smiled. "We could call it the Chu Zhi Princess Award."
Trust Brave Niu Niu to butcher names. Chu Zhi understood it was meant as "Chu Zhi · Princess Sofia Award," but hearing it like that, the name sounded like something else entirely.
"What do you think, Brother Chu?" she asked.
"Everything's fine except the name," he said.
"Then how about Princess Chu Zhi Award? Or Spanish Princess Chu Zhi Music Award?" she suggested again, repeating it with satisfaction.
Everyone knew Niu Niu was hopeless at naming things. She even named her Samoyed "Friday," which reminded people of Robinson Crusoe.
"Spain's most famous award should be Los40, right? Maybe ours could grow into the top Spanish-language music award," she said ambitiously. "A big award needs fame first, then a high-level jury. The prize money isn't that important. And with both Princess Sofia and you, isn't the fame enough?"
She added, "Besides, we've already set up a Spanish branch office. They can prepare the award, killing two birds with one stone. You also founded the Jiuhua Cup Asian Music Festival. We could even create one in the Arab world. Europe and America would be harder, but step by step, we could become the Nobel Prize of music festivals!"
"Stop, stop, stop. Let's take it one step at a time. Don't get carried away," Chu Zhi cut her off. Any further and she'd be planning a concert on the moon.
When she hesitated over the next topic, he guessed, "Is it some negative stuff online?"
She blinked. "You saw it already, Brother Chu?"
"Doctor Wang told me not to use digital devices for a month, and I'm following orders. I haven't been on Weibo or anything. But the entertainment industry's small. If there's no noise, it means everyone's turned into saints. So what's being said?" he asked.
She handed him printed papers—
Rice First Place: "Worried. Who can take over Jiu-yé's spot in the music world if he really can't sing anymore…"
Eat But Don't Wash: "His lungs were injured. Everyone knows how important lungs are. Feels like we'll never hear Xiao Jiu live again."
Dark Star: "Honestly, Sun Shi's like the beggar's version of Chu Zhi. He can write, sings decently for his age, and spoils fans too."
Beacon Fire Plays Pig Monkey: "Beggar's version? I don't get it. Is that a compliment or an insult? Just goes to show how badass Jiu-yé is. Even his beggar's version is impressive. Still, what a shame!"
Dame Dame: "What's there to pity? Brother Jiu's already a legendary singer. Even if he retires now, his name will be etched in world music history."
"The anti-black team traced it. It's companies like Chuanhai and Guangming behind it," she said.
He had no grudge with them, but Meng Wuping from Chuanhai Media and Sun Shi from Guangming Music had been pushed as the new top streamers. Since the industry had a ceiling, stars got reshuffled constantly.
Because Chu Zhi's public reputation was too good, they didn't dare attack him directly. Instead, they spread rumors like he was about to retire.
"Don't mind it, Brother Chu. The team's already preparing a counterattack," she reassured.
"I don't care," he said. His comeback concert would be the only response that mattered. Otherwise, words meant nothing.
After confirming he really didn't care, she moved on to the next matter.
Two hours wasn't nearly enough to handle everything piled up. Once he finished, he read for a while, completed his daily practice, then checked his email.
Ono Akio sent him the final revision of Mr. Cogito. Unlike the other poetry collections, this one had gone through countless changes, since every edit involved hard choices.
The blind-box collections of Herbert, Gu Cheng, Haizi, and Thomas were all selected works, more than enough material for a single book. But Mr. Cogito was aimed at the Nobel Prize in Literature, so it had to be carefully polished.
The email also mentioned a second thing: the producers of Star Wars: Reboot wanted to quote "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night," offering twenty thousand dollars.
"Huh, didn't think a poet could make money off movie copyrights," he mused.
Even though director Tooney had invited him to compose music for the film and he declined, there was no reason to refuse a copyright fee. After all, films were commercial works. If a poem wasn't public domain, it required payment. Like when Stephen Chow used Jin Yong's works in Kung Fu, he had to pay sixty thousand yuan.
"With the book going on sale in two weeks, and the final manuscript only just done, it's been tough," he thought, writing a thank-you email to Ono Akio.
In Huainan, Ono Akio was glued to his computer, waiting for a reply. As the signature editor of Ronin Publishing, Huainan deserved special treatment.
"Finally settled. Huainan-sensei valued this collection so much, he revised it again and again," Ono Akio said.
Then he spotted the thank-you mail.
"Eh!" He leapt from his chair, startling his colleague. The sudden move drew everyone's attention.
"What's wrong, Ono-san?"
"Did something happen with Huainan-sensei?"
Ono Akio's face glowed. "Huainan-sensei sent me a thank-you letter!"
At once, his colleagues crowded around, all jealous. "That's amazing." "So rare." "A poet of his level, sending thanks…"
The editor-in-chief patted his shoulder. "Don't let down Huainan-sensei's trust."
"Yes! I'll work even harder," Ono Akio said with burning determination. He believed that when Huainan-sensei eventually became a literary giant, he too would be remembered as a great editor.