Last time Chu Zhi arrived just in time for the show, so iQIYI staff didn't want to bother him. This time he came early—and the young receptionists and younger female staff, all post‑90s, rushed over for autographs and selfies.
A few male employees joined in, shouting loudly, "Chu Zhi I love you!" and "Jiu Ge you're so handsome when are you marrying me?"
The place erupted in laughter. When guys try flirting, it's downright cringey.
"Big Brother, I see your wedding ring—no chance I'd be your side chick," Chu Zhi teased, laughing along.
After signing autographs and snapping selfies for over ten minutes, Chu Zhi finally headed to the waiting hall. Fans may have sensed his popularity—but he noticed a lack of male fans.
There were three or four guys cheering earlier, but the atmosphere was mostly female. Chu Zhi thought maybe it was time to tease one male fan and turn him into a bigger fan.
The Music Emperor Beast was scheming already. As the saying goes, strategic minds tend to get dirty.
Inside the waiting hall was rapper Liang Zhengwen. Since Episode 8, Liang made it a habit to arrive early. Korean star Jo Kwon once asked, "Teacher Liang have other plans? You're always first."
"Teacher Liang," Chu Zhi greeted.
"Seeing all the contestants show up one by one before me gives me a bit of home‑court advantage," Liang said. "Are you going with Chinese style again? I need more Chrysanthemum Terrace."
Liang had bold features but spoke playfully—when they first met he called him "Chu Zhi," now they just said "Zhi Zhi." Even Yu Lan became "Lan Lan." Liang's from Chongqing, where people love doubling words—dragonfly becomes ding ding, fish is yu bai bai, bird is que que, meat is ga ga. Cabbage? bao bao. Water spinach? teng teng.
"My next song is rap," said Chu Zhi.
What a coincidence—Liang was a rapper. He asked, "Rap? Are you mixing Chinese style with rap?"
He sounded excited. Rap with Chinese instruments sounded promising, something he could help guide.
Since Chu Zhi announced his New China Style, people thought he stuck to one style.
"I want to try combining classical music with rap," Chu Zhi said. "Not Chinese style—more like classical rap."
Liang looked puzzled, like he misheard.
"It's inspired by Schubert's Serenade and Sherlock Holmes. It's my first time writing rap. I don't know how it'll turn out," Chu Zhi explained.
In this parallel world, things diverged from ours in the 19th century. No famous poets here, but lots more detective novels. The system designed this world perfectly for building Chu Zhi's image.
"Schubert's Serenade? Piano piece—" Liang paused, then added, "and Sherlock Holmes? How do those fit with rap?"
"Cough." Liang hesitated and finally said gently, "Merging rap and classical instruments—those are completely opposite elements. It's hard to blend."
Chu Zhi nodded. "Liang Ge you're right. That clash made the writing process tough."
Liang had picked up the subtext. His comment had both flattery and caution.
At that moment Zhu Xinyue and Yu Lan walked in. Zhu was wearing heavy stage makeup—looks like her song was aggressive.
Yu Lan was quietly calculating: "The internet is booming over Old Nine's New China Style. Chrysanthemum Terrace streams were three or four times higher than ours. I think it's 47 million plays."
"You did that? I didn't even notice. Well, good on me," Chu Zhi laughed.
Yu Lan was sly, with precise data—obviously trying to start drama.
She tried to call Chu Zhi out—she lost her straight‑arrow innocence. Zhu couldn't sit back and speak up: "Chrysanthemum Terrace is truly groundbreaking. With that many streams, it makes sense."
"Right right right. I agree. It's too much talent to waste in competition," Yu Lan politely praised. "We're excited for Old Nine's new track. I feel this one might even beat Chrysanthemum Terrace."
Liang Zhengwen worried audiences might expect too much. He shared the rap‑classical fusion angle to set expectations—if it didn't meet standards, people might judge less harshly.
He admired the courage to challenge new territory. Zhu wondered if Yu Lan would have played it safer—ensuring a win zone before trying experimental tracks.
Yu Lan smiled, praising it while thinking, How naïve. "Classical and rap are ice and fire. I'm excited just hearing it."
Chu Zhi continued, "Exactly. Classic music has calm power, I think it shares traits with rap. Lan San-Ge your music is some of the most experimental and avant‑garde. Any new idea?"
"Uh—" Yu Lan stumbled. Avant‑rock and experimental music aren't the same, and Chu Zhi rambling about them made him cringe. But that got to Yu Lan's nerve.
Experimental music can include noise or ambient elements. Avant‑rock is rock with symphonic elements. If you hear orchestral sound in rock, that's avant‑rock.
Before debuting, Yu Lan pursued artistic music. You could compare it to Faye Wong's Floating—high art, low sales. Yu Lan's experiments weren't as strong, and he got crushed. Now he compromised for mainstream popularity—but reviewers still called him "one of the most experimental singers."
"Hopefully today's challenge isn't too strong. With Jiu Ge and Mr Jo Kwon here, that's enough pressure," Zhu Xinyue sighed.
Other contestants Jo Kwon, Li Jun, Gunman arrived soon. Li Jun had been in a car accident and came last.
Xiao Xu, who lost two challenges in a row, was replaced. Who'd come in last? Chu Zhi was stunned.
It was Koguchi Yoshihiro?!