[Jazz Dance Mastery]
[Mesmerizing Electric Eyes]
[Rare Item: The World's Greatest Stomach Medicine]
["The Wind Blows Through the Wheat" Gift Pack]
["Kiss Everywhere" Gift Pack]
[Special Grand Prize: Violin Virtuoso Niccolò Paganini's Violin Talent]
Over the next two days, Chu Zhi smoothly terminated his contract with Kangfei Entertainment without any complications. When he signed the termination papers, he had already secured his appearance contract for I Am a Singer. Mango TV offered 200,000 yuan for his participation—a sum he had no leverage to negotiate at this point.
He didn't waste the waiting period. By completing the "Personality List" challenge of eating spicy food five times, Chu Zhi earned 2 Personality Coins. Once he accumulated 5 coins, he immediately spun the gacha. The prize pool this time was as shown above.
"Kiss Everywhere" was a song Chu Zhi recognized from Douyin, often used as background music in short videos. It was originally by Miriam Yeung.
"The Wind Blows Through the Wheat" was one of Li Jian's signature works. While Jazz Dance Mastery was a good prize, it wouldn't help much on the I Am a Singer stage. What he needed was a prize that would give him an edge in the competition—this opportunity was too rare to waste.
But what truly caught his eye was the Special Grand Prize. Winning this wouldn't just be "turning a bicycle into a motorcycle"—it'd be an overnight fortune.
Paganini was in a league of his own. In the world of violinists, there were only two categories: Paganini, and everyone else. In Western vocabulary, "Paganini" wasn't just a name—it was an adjective denoting supreme mastery in an artistic field.
"Paganini of the piano" referred to the virtuoso Franz Liszt. "Paganini of the guitar" pointed to the legendary Agustín Barrios. "Paganini of the huqin" described the erhu master Huang Anyuan.
"This time, for sure!" Chu Zhi spun the gacha.
Spin—
Prize obtained: ["The Wind Blows Through the Wheat" Gift Pack]
"So much for being the luckiest man alive."
"Still good. At least I have a solid song for the competition," Chu Zhi muttered. "Open the gift pack."
[Congratulations! You have obtained the sheet music, lyrics, and arrangement materials for "The Wind Blows Through the Wheat."]
[Congratulations! You have gained the creative memory of composing "The Wind Blows Through the Wheat."]
[The song has been automatically registered with the China Music Copyright Association, MusicNet (UNESCO's International Music Council), and the Asian Copyright Protection Alliance.]
No wonder it was called a "gift pack"—it was comprehensive.
"The Wind Blows Through the Wheat... Not a bad weapon for my comeback. Its gentle, soothing vibe could soften some of the public's hostility. So for the show, I'll need to adjust my image."
"My old agency branded me as the 'Untouchable Flower.' But maintaining that aloofness now would backfire—with the current bias against me, even my breathing would be criticized, let alone a cold expression. I need to appear more approachable and introspective. My looks are still a weapon—I should use them wisely."
"But I can't change too drastically overnight."
After some analysis, Chu Zhi settled on his performance strategy. What he'd really wanted was Jacky Cheung's "Having You Along the Way." Originally a love song, it later became an anthem between Cheung and his fans during concerts.
Walking down the hallway, Chu Zhi entered the study next to the master bedroom. The shelves were lined with unread music theory books, but the desk now held a pile of lyric drafts and revisions—all part of the "creative process" the system had fabricated.
The copyright registrations were airtight: the China Music Copyright Association was a quasi-governmental body under the China Federation of Literary and Art Circles; MusicNet was run by UNESCO's International Music Council; and the Asian Copyright Alliance was backed by major music labels. With all three covered, the song was legally bulletproof—saving Chu Zhi a mountain of hassle.
"You're thorough, System," Chu Zhi praised.
As he sifted through the original Chu Zhi's memories, his phone rang—an unknown number from Changsha, Hunan.
A deep male voice spoke: "Hello, contestant Chu Zhi. I'm Wang Ke, producer of Mango TV's I Am a Singer. The contract's settled—you'll be the third surprise guest."
"Recording is on the 27th. Please arrive by 10 AM on the 25th for rehearsal at Studio 14, Golden Eagle Film & TV Cultural Center, Kaifu District, Changsha. An access code for the studio will be texted to you shortly."
The delivery was smooth, devoid of emotion.
"Producer Wang, I'd like to perform an original song," Chu Zhi said. "I'd prefer to come earlier to work out the arrangement with the music director."
Wang Ke frowned. What was this fading pretty boy scheming now? His displeasure leaked into his tone: "What original song?"
His irritation wasn't due to some anti-idol bias—as a producer, Wang liked working with idols. But artists with terrible reputations risked audience backlash, and Wang would never have allowed Chu Zhi on his show if not for the network's resource trade.
Still, Chu Zhi's polite tone gave him pause. After a beat, Wang replied stiffly, "Fine. Come on the 24th."
"Thank—" Click. The line went dead before Chu Zhi could finish.
Such was the entertainment industry: fame commanded respect; obscurity earned nothing.
Everyone knew it was wise to leave room for future encounters—but who believed Chu Zhi could stage a comeback? Wang's attitude mirrored Kangfei's executives and most insiders' views.
"Don't get mad. You don't get to be mad right now," Chu Zhi reminded himself, smothering the flicker of anger. "We'll bide our time."
He headed to the vocal studio to practice "The Wind Blows Through the Wheat." Written and composed by Li Jian, the song had won Best Lyrics at the Beijing Pop Music Awards. Its lyrics were poetic, almost prose-like.
In his past life, Li Jian had performed it at the 2013 Spring Festival Gala—back when the event still had standards. That alone spoke volumes about the song's caliber. Using it for a surprise attack on a singing show was like nuking a mosquito.
"Under the distant azure sky, golden wheat fields sway... Where you and I once walked..."
Chu Zhi had heard the song a few times before but didn't know it well. With only three days until the 24th, he had little time to prepare.
"Wrong. Breath control's off."
"Enunciate clearer. The emotion's not right either. Again."
"Problems keep popping up. Don't rush. The feeling's there, but the technique's lacking. That line was off-key."
"One more time."
...
Three days vanished in the blur of practice, like ripples disappearing into water.
His focus on training left no room for chasing more Personality Coins. Aside from occasional check-ins from the Disciple of the Great Cat, his phone stayed silent—no calls, no messages. The solitude suited him.
The intensive training gave Chu Zhi a deeper understanding of his voice: while lacking distinctiveness, its range was impressive—spanning B1 to C6, wider than Li Jian's natural range.
Li Jian's innate range was narrow, straining past B4. But technique-wise, the gap was vast. In the realm of mixed voice control, Li Jian ranked among China's top ten—world-class, really. Combined with his classical training, his vocal prowess was monstrous.
Chu Zhi wasn't comparing himself to Li Jian—he was using him as a benchmark. For now, he could manage the song competently.
"It's enough," Chu Zhi thought, confidence growing.
"System, even after just a few days, we're friends. I recorded myself drunk yesterday and realized I babble nonsense. Alone at home, it's fine, but around others, it could expose you."
"To keep you safe, could you make me pass out when I'm drunk?"
[Rare Item: God of Wine Pill
Effect: With this pill, you reign supreme at any banquet—sober or drunk, your choice.
Price: 3 Personality Coins]
"System, aren't we past this? We're life-and-death partners! Must everything cost coins?"
No matter how he prodded, the system stayed silent.
Great. Stingy and stubborn.
Chu Zhi shelved the idea. For now, he'd just avoid drinking in public.