So, what exactly did Chu Zhi sing?
Gunslinger's interview on Musical Hearth exploded after airing on Penguin Video, spreading Gu Duofu's curiosity to the public as well. Hashtags like #GuDuofuGunslinger and #ChuZhiNewSong trended across the internet.
Why do variety shows spend tens of millions hiring top celebrities? One look at Musical Hearth says it all. Normally, the show had nearly no ratings, but with just a mention of Chu Zhi, it shot up in popularity and stood side by side with Penguin's own top productions.
"Ahhh, what's this new song from Jiuye?! I have to check it out!"
"Didn't know who Gunslinger was before, went to listen today—pretty good, I'm a fan now."
"If you praise A'Jiu, you're my friend."
"Jiuye just keeps getting better. And Gunslinger's music isn't bad either."
Tons of Chu Zhi's fans, the "Little Fruits," swarmed the show's comment section. A niche program suddenly rose to the top of the app's trending search. That kind of surprise? It was enough to stun Gu Duofu, who doubled as both producer and director.
He'd poured one or two years of effort into this show, which had only recently started to gain traction. And now, just mentioning Chu Zhi's name had this kind of impact.
"Top-tier popularity is one thing," Gu muttered to himself, "but how does Chu Zhi manage to maintain both massive popularity and a consistent output of great work?"
That was a question for Gu to figure out later. For now, let's turn our attention to Su Shangbai—Dabai.
Dabai had recently acquired a brand of soft candy, and suddenly, its online sales skyrocketed. After doing a little digging, he realized the cause and sent a message of thanks.
Disciple of the Fat Cat: [Big White Soft Candy ranked 9th in children's candy sales for June 1st Children's Day. Thanks to Brother Jiu for helping promote it.]
Children's Day. Huh. A thank-you message two weeks late? Chu Zhi didn't mind. He casually replied:
Chu Zhi: [It's also because the candy tastes good. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been that kind of effect.]He followed it with a cartoon bear meme: "I'm so awesome, I need to stretch for a bit."
Usually, Dabai replied instantly, but this time it took him ten seconds or so.
"Maybe it's too big of a shift, and he needs time to process it?" Chu Zhi wondered.
About thirty seconds later, Dabai sent a follow-up:
Disciple of the Fat Cat: [Would you consider being a consultant for Big White Soft Candy? I also happen to have a nomination slot for the 'Top Ten Outstanding Youth of Modu' awards. Could help you apply to join the Party as well.]
The message came with a meme of a panda person: "You're the coolest kid on this street, besides me."
Well then. Chu Zhi figured Dabai was a meme newbie, searching for reaction images on the fly.
He focused on the message content instead. The "Top Ten Outstanding Youth of Modu" was an official youth league award, not one of those fake online titles. No wonder the thank-you came late—it was clearly a return gift, and a hefty one at that.
Chu Zhi looked up the previous list of winners. It included a senior engineer from the No. 704 Research Institute of China Shipbuilding Group, and a professional guzheng player from the Modu National Orchestra.
And—wait a second. Chu Zhi spotted a familiar name: "Su Shangbai, Associate Researcher at Guangdong Sugarcane Research Institute, Secretary-General of the Asian Sugar Industry Association."
Chu Zhi suddenly remembered asking Dabai what his family did, and Dabai had replied casually: "Just sugar work, nothing big." The way losers brag, winners keep low-key.
"This guy... he's a true heavyweight. Official connections, youth league endorsements, he's not just someone with a title—he's someone who can nominate people."
Should he cling to this leg? Chu Zhi thought seriously about it.
Chu Zhi: [Thanks for the offer, Dabai.]He sent a meme of a smiling dog drinking soda.
A few seconds later:
Disciple of the Fat Cat: [With your popularity, it's a win for me to have you as our candy advisor.]Followed by a giant cigar-smoking bear meme.
There's a difference between an ambassador and a consultant. Chu Zhi wasn't clueless. If the connection to the southern media chief was setting up a future bridge, this—this was offering serious credentials.
They discussed a few details, and Dabai ended the chat by sending more candy. Chu Zhi didn't have much of a sweet tooth, but with that much gifted to him, he figured he'd at least eat some every now and then.
"Dabai always manages to surprise me in the best ways," Chu Zhi mumbled, adjusting the neck pillow around his neck and settling into the car for a nap.
Half an hour later, his nap ended, and his assistant Xiaozhu came running over.
"Time to review your opening speech, Mr. Chu. The college music festival is coming up. Here's the script."
Chu Zhi didn't want to waste brainpower, so the team had written the speech for him.
"I've got something to say," Chu Zhi said at the same time as Niu Jiangxue.
"You first," he offered.
"I want to make use of the buzz around Episode 8 of Singer-Songwriter and start promoting the title 'Voice of Gen Z,'" said Niu, showing him the current trending headlines.
Chu Zhi quickly caught up on Gunslinger's interview on Musical Hearth. Even he was surprised. Gunslinger's praise was that high?
"I think you absolutely deserve that title," Niu Jiangxue said. "Your performance of 'Chapter Seven of the Night' is more than good enough."
Her point was that no one would mock it. Other artists had been ridiculed for self-claimed titles like "the backbone of rock" or "leading figure of Mandopop's new generation." They didn't have the skill or charm to match the hype.
People still joked about "Half of Rock" and how someone should name their kid "Mandopop" so they'd be its father.
Chu Zhi scrolled through the internet while thinking. Online opinion was split into two camps. One group was excited—after all, Chrysanthemum Terrace had set the bar high. Most believed in him.
The other group was more skeptical. Not blindly, though. The issue was that Gunslinger's praise felt exaggerated. A classic that doesn't even need to be sung?
"Gunslinger used to seem cool. Now he's acting like those industry shills, sucking up to top-tier celebs. What's the big deal? Probably another Chinese-style ballad."
"Yeah, yeah. What's this nonsense about not needing to be catchy? I still scream Chrysanthemum Terrace at karaoke. Chu Zhi's a solid young artist, but let's not overhype him or he'll fall harder."
That kind of talk was everywhere.
"No problem. Let's go with 'Voice of Gen Z' for the campaign," Chu Zhi finally said. He nodded after a moment of reflection. "A good song will end all debate. And my next album… will be strong."
Niu Jiangxue nodded and got to work. With Episode 8 airing the day after tomorrow, timing was tight. Showbiz always relied on collective hype, but if they wanted this title to stick, they needed a media outlet or influencer with real weight behind it. Saying it on their own wouldn't work.
Jacky Cheung being called "God of Songs" was widely accepted, but it started with a Hong Kong media legend calling him the successor to Sam Hui. Only after he proved his talent did the public adopt the title.
"Wait, Sister Niu," Chu Zhi stopped her just as she turned to leave. "I haven't said my piece yet."
"Oh right, what did you want to say?" Niu came back. In her mind, nothing could be more important than launching this Gen Z campaign.