"The weak mix technique could still be improved. If I can perform at that level without triggering the Drunken Immortal buff, then I'll be a truly skilled singer," Chu Zhi reflected.
"And just now, my breathing was still a bit too obvious. Same old problem. I should have the vocal coach focus on that in the next session."
Chu Zhi mentally reviewed his performance. He did this after every show, whether it was Singer-Songwriter, Masked Singer, or any other stage. Recognizing flaws was the only path to improvement.
Part of it was about building an image and stirring emotion in fans, but the foundation had to be solid. His vocal coach was He Bingli, the first person to introduce the Orff method to China and a mentor to many renowned vocalists. She had both reputation and skill.
His phone chimed. Someone had messaged him on WeChat. Chu Zhi opened it.
Xiao Peng Wants to Sleep: You okay? I accidentally saw the part where you coughed up blood just now.
Xiao Peng Wants to Sleep: Could be a throat mucosal rupture? Or maybe inflammation caused congestion and ruptured some capillaries. Either way, just avoid spicy food.
Impossible. Spicy food was his favorite. Chu Zhi, ever cautious, had made sure the fake blood didn't splash anywhere. Even the little plastic pouch and the white handkerchief went into his pocket. He didn't toss anything in a trash bin near the venue. He was taking it all home to dispose of properly.
Caution captures cicadas in autumn. Care steers the ship for ten thousand years. Chu Zhi played it safe.
Just as he was about to reply, another message came in.
Xiao Peng Wants to Sleep: People were filming. The part where you looked unwell might spread online.
He was warning Chu Zhi in advance so he wouldn't be caught off guard. Good kid.
Chu Zhi: Got it. Thanks for the heads-up, Third Bro. Otherwise, I might've been blindsided.
They chatted casually for a bit. According to Gu Peng, when he left the arena, the crowd outside looked more like a street fair than a concert exit.
One event could ripple out in unexpected ways. Even things that seemed like a sure bet had to be carefully calculated. With Chu Zhi's PTSD and depression, no one would ever force him to take meds or go to the hospital. Because no one could guarantee that if his conditions were "cured," his creativity would remain.
A healthy Chu Zhi versus a tormented but brilliant one. Let the public choose, and you already know their answer.
His managers like Sister Niu and Sister Wang would only ensure his basic needs were met. So Chu Zhi could put on an act with impunity.
As for today's bloody coughing act, while dramatic, it wasn't entirely implausible. Internet sleuths would piece things together: high-proof alcohol before every performance, constant use of high-range vocals, inflamed throat. A real recipe for disaster.
He hadn't really vomited blood. That would've been too melodramatic and hard to act convincingly. Plus, if someone tested the fake blood and found out, it could blow up in his face. That was the real risk.
"If I hadn't used the Immortal Throat lozenges, I'd never be able to sing like that today. My throat feels dry, like I yelled for hours at a karaoke place. It hurts a bit."
He figured a couple hours of rest would help. Another point in favor of miracle items.
"If Sister Niu finds out I coughed up blood, she'll definitely make me rest and cut out spicy food… Hmm. I'll just sneak some late-night snacks when I get home."
"And if they insist on taking me to a hospital…"
He'd already thought of a backup plan. He was eyeing the Hide-and-Seek Candy in the item shop, advertised as a perfect escape tool. It could temporarily stop heartbeat and breath. No one would be able to find him.
Just as he approached the school's parking lot, the van door slid open.
"Everything go okay, Brother Chu?" asked his assistant, Xiao Zhu.
"All good," Chu Zhi replied, getting into the van. He told Ma Weihao to cancel the massage appointment. He was too tired, just wanted to rest.
Sister Niu and the others were always watching trends online and entertainment gossip, but things didn't spread that fast. The story would still take time to ferment.
Technically speaking, Chu Zhi wasn't lying. His schedule really was tight. He was headed to the CCTV headquarters next, known for its "big pants" skyscraper in Chaoyang District.
The Global Chinese Music Chart Show was often called the "Asian Grammys," even though its credibility was… questionable.
Still, it aired on Channel 15. Hosted by CCTV, that alone gave it weight.
Little Fruit fans had voted him into the top spot. He'd never even shown up in person to campaign, yet he'd won "Most Popular Male Singer." Even he felt it was a bit absurd.
"Zhang Mingyi, Zuo Yangfeixing, and Gu Duofu all posted together saying you're the voice of Gen Z. What do you think?" asked Niu Jiangxue.
"I'm just giving a speech at the opening ceremony, and now we're making moves like this?" Chu Zhi asked, but smiled. "Those three are big-name internet critics. It works. Any issues with them?"
"Zhang Mingyi is your die-hard fan. The way he praises you makes my head spin," said Niu Jiangxue. "Zuo Yangfeixing already hinted at this on a show. Only Gu Duofu hasn't interacted with us yet."
"I think Gu Duofu would be willing to build good relations. Chu Zhi brings a ton of traffic," Lao Qian added.
"Then let's move ahead. Send the plan to Da Fei," said Niu Jiangxue.
She sent the outline to the ad department. The details would be handled by Fei-ge and his team.
"A'Jiu, your voice sounds a bit hoarse. You should rest for a bit," Wang Yuan said gently.
Chu Zhi nodded and closed his eyes. The Immortal Throat lozenges helped him recover fast and left no side effects, but the hoarseness remained for now.
About three minutes later, Fei-ge called.
"Got an issue with the plan?" Niu Jiangxue picked up.
"The three critics are a good idea," he said, bluntly. "But they're all civilians. We need at least one official or mainstream media endorsement."
Fei-ge continued, "My suggestion is to involve Southern Media. They don't have the best reputation, but Chu Zhi did appear on Southern People Weekly earlier. There's a connection there. Might as well use it."
He had a point. Add one mainstream outlet to three critics, and the message would be bulletproof.
Chu Zhi nodded. After a few seconds of thought, Niu Jiangxue agreed. They'd revise the plan.
From the sports arena at Beijing Sport University to the CCTV building was about 25 kilometers. With no traffic, it'd take 30 minutes.
Fortunately, the roads were clear. When Chu Zhi arrived, a staff member was waiting. Before long, he was escorted to Studio 15.
While Chu Zhi was receiving his award, the rest of the team stayed in the van. They weren't slacking off. Some were handling collaborations, others were negotiating new deals.
Among them was one person who stood out—Wang Yuan. Her expression was dark, practically leaking black mist.
"What's wrong with our queen?" Lao Qian was the first to notice.
Wang Yuan answered, "Check the trending topics on Douyin."