Why did Chu Zhi suggest holding a fan festival? It wasn't random. Since 2017, a certain female idol started hosting fan festivals, inviting celebrities live and giving fans real perks. Li Xiang, Du Haitao, Xin, A‑Lin—everyone copied it.
Chu Zhi decided to flip the script. Under "Little Fruits" (his fan base) branding, he'd do charity work. Fans often donated in their idol's name—now the idol would donate in theirs.
He was launching another next-level move in the idol game. He could write a song thanking fans too. With that combo, those Little Fruits would be crying with joy and spending even more.
"Fans have been through a lot. This time, Little Date (Big Red Dates is a fan nickname)—I'm going to make you smile until your teeth hurt," Chu Zhi thought.
The fan festival was tentatively set for July 9. That was the same date the final of "Future's Son" had aired in the past and chanted "Jiu‑Ye" or "Jiugge," playing on the date and names.
After the meeting, Fei‑ge called out to Wang Yuan, who was leaving. Today Wang Yuan wore a white deep‑V dress with lace sleeves and a cinched waist. Sexy and classy.
Fei‑ge couldn't even meet her gaze straight on.
"What's up?" Wang Yuan didn't like troublemakers on the team—most of the time, they went after her.
"Chu‑ge isn't looking well today. Could you keep an eye out?" Fei‑ge said.
"Not in a good state?" Her expression turned serious.
Fei‑ge nodded. "He didn't look bad facially, but he was yawning in the meeting, and his eyes looked sleepy."
Wang Yuan thought of depression, nightmares, PTSD. Unlike feisty Fei‑ge, she was cautious.
She hurried over to Chu Zhi—but before she could speak, he beat her to it.
"Wang‑jie, are you feeling better? How's your throat?" Chu Zhi asked gently.
"Uh—I've got chronic pharyngitis, taking medicine," she replied, surprised but happy.
"I thought so too. I made something you can drink to help," Chu Zhi said, unveiling a jar of homemade pear syrup.
"Pear syrup?" she replied, not a fan of sweets. She knew it helped throat issues but didn't usually use it.
Seeing her idol had personally made it, even the elegant Wang Yuan turned giddy.
"It was my first try. It might be rough around the edges—please bear with it," he said, embarrassed.
"I'll drink it all. I promise. That should fix it," she hurriedly said.
"You still have to watch your diet. Avoid barbecue or anything too spicy—even pear syrup only helps so much," Chu Zhi warned.
"I have to head to record a cheer‑on video now." He'd received a message from Cameraman Chen, so he rushed off.
A few minutes later, Wang Yuan's brain caught up to her heart.
"He made pear syrup for me?!"
What is happiness? For a cat, it's fish. For a dog, meat. For an idol fan, it's knowing your favorite cares. She realized why he'd looked tired—he had stayed up late making syrup. What a blessing. She was already his hardcore fan—and now a full-on devoted supporter.
Inside the studio:
The makeup artist styled his hair. They had to redo the first take from his own mistake.
"Xiao Xi has great potential. I hope he learns more in the Creator Group," Chu Zhi coached in a recorded message.
The trainee group on another platform was filming a video. Ordinarily a senior artist would record a cheer reel without charge. But with Chu Zhi, even a VCR clip meant the production team paid 500,000 yuan. That was power.
"Jiu‑Ye's ranking is up. Lanlingwang got city rank in Kings of Glory," Cameraman Chen noted, opening the game app.
Lanlingwang was hard to climb with; Chu Zhi joked: "Treat him to a big meal later."
"Small problem," Chen proudly said. "I hit rank in three roles last week. Lanlingwang would be easy if I practiced."
"Chen Da‑ye, you're mighty," Chu Zhi laughed.
He didn't game, but letting Chen help with ranks was part of his "inner circle plan." Every staff member mattered—so a little effort was worth it.
The ancients were right: stabilize your circle before going out.
At dawn on June 10, heavy rain fell. By morning the sky was clear, with the scent of fresh earth. The crew had arrived early in Beijing. They were at Chaoyang District's Hengtong International Business Park—the head office of rival Penguin Video—to film ad content.
Penguin Video paid 60 million plus a 2 million signing bonus over two years to make Chu Zhi their VIP spokesperson. During negotiations, Chu Zhi's team realized there were shameless players in the world—Penguin Video offered to create a QQ profile theme set for him.
QQ had millions of users; a custom theme would boost his visibility.
Only it would cost his fans super membership fees—and none of the money came to him.
That was clearly just them farming his fans. He politely refused the "big benefit."
They both got what they wanted. The shoot went smoothly, delivering photo sets, avatar packs, and videos before lunch as planned.
At 2 pm they moved on to the iQIYI building.