The capital had been shaken for an entire year. In their eyes, celebrities had always been easy to manipulate. All those hundreds of millions of streams and tens of millions of followers—everyone knew they could be faked.
But the unity between Chu Zhi's online and offline fan presence was terrifying. Even vague rumors nearly overturned the entire internet. If Chu Zhi ever chose to guide his fans to oppose or boycott something, the result could be devastating.
Luxury brands were especially sensitive. Take Dior, for example. Their internal strategy toward Chu Zhi shifted during a meeting—they wanted to upgrade his endorsement status.
In the luxury world, there are different levels of endorsement. Chu Zhi had been a designated spokesperson for a single series. The next step up was a product line ambassador.
To put it simply, think of it like this: for Kang Shifu (Master Kong), Ice Red Tea is a product, the tea beverage range is a series, all drinks fall under a product line, and the whole Kang Shifu brand would be a global endorsement.
After a short internal discussion, Dior decided to promote Chu Zhi two steps at once, upgrading him from the China ambassador for Fierce Men's Fragrance to the Greater China ambassador for Dior's entire men's fragrance line.
In the luxury market, "Greater China" includes Japan, South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, and other regions heavily influenced by Chinese culture or with large Chinese populations.
At the same time, the French jewelry brand Boucheron also turned its attention to Chu Zhi. Though not ranked in traditional "blue-blooded" or "red-blooded" brand lists, Boucheron was a rising player in France's luxury scene, willing to spend money and push hard for market share.
Niu Jiangxue's team received several letters of interest. It was a case of accidentally hitting the jackpot. Meanwhile, Chu Zhi patiently replied to every call and WeChat message from those concerned about his health.
He believed that other people's care deserved a proper response. If he had to pause a chat due to something urgent, he would always send a quick message first. And once he was done—even if the other person wasn't waiting—he would always text, "I'm back."
It was one of those small things that helped people warm up to him in conversations.
Only after the news about Chu Zhi's health was fully cleared up did people begin discussing the new version of You're Not Truly Happy—the surprise he had mentioned earlier for his fans.
On Bihu, someone opened a new question thread:
"How do you view Chu Zhi's performance of 'You're Not Truly Happy' while coughing blood?"And a verified account finally weighed in.
Zhang Mingyi wrote:
"I've always said Chu Zhi is a gifted singer. But now I realize I was wrong. Let me correct myself—he's not just talented, he's exceptionally talented. A once-in-a-decade voice.
Compare the version of You're Not Truly Happy he sang at the university festival to the simplified version from his Dream of Red Mansions livestream. You'll notice he raised the key during the live performance.
That instantly made the performance harder. And yet, he sang it flawlessly. The crowd was electric. Even with the heightened difficulty, not a single note cracked. The final five lines, especially, were delivered with a precision that was almost divine.
If you don't know how hard this song is, try it yourself at a karaoke bar. See if you can even scream your way through it.
Now, about Chu Zhi's soft mixed voice technique—I'm calling it now. Among young singers, he's the best. No debate. Other fans are welcome to argue, but please keep it civil. If you want to debate, bring a little class.
Lastly, I'm now even more excited for the next episode of I Am a Singer-Songwriter. I can't wait to see what kind of groundbreaking piece Chu Zhi brings next."
Originally, Zhang Mingyi was a dual fan of both Chu Zhi and Wu Tang. But since Chu Zhi's fame had far outpaced Wu Tang's, he barely acknowledged Wu Tang anymore.
Zhang Mingyi was a master of capturing attention. Declaring Chu Zhi the best soft mixed voice among the younger generation naturally stirred up a hornet's nest of responses. Fans of lesser-known but technically strong singers jumped in to argue.
To be one of the founding members of the internet's three major music critique platforms, Zhang Mingyi not only had deep musical knowledge but was also a formidable debater. He could take on twenty opponents and never lose ground.
Some didn't agree with his views. But whether they agreed or not, this was the first time Chu Zhi had publicly been labeled as a true vocal powerhouse.
It wasn't just fans and music lovers reading Zhang's post—people from the industry were watching too. Like Zheng Huo, for example.
"The kid has a future," Zheng muttered while slacking off during a meeting. "But if he keeps straining his voice like this, it's going to collapse."
The China Rock Association was holding a meeting to draft the invitation list for this year's Night of Rock concert.
To be honest, Chinese rock hasn't had the best soil to grow in. Big Zhang Wei once said there's no environment for it in China—and he wasn't entirely wrong.
In today's digital age, rock music feels like nothing but echoes of the past. The association wanted to shake things up.
"Why are we inviting Chu Zhi and Lin Xia? They're not even in the rock circle, let alone our association," someone protested passionately.
That someone was Wu Xi, who had once been eliminated by Chu Zhi on Singer. After his record label tried to save face, they got burned. Naturally, Wu Xi had a grudge. But why drag Lin Xia into it?
"Come on, Lao Wu, Chu Zhi's popularity is off the charts."
"Yeah, don't throw a fit. We're all professionals here."
The others tried to calm him down.
"Fine, maybe Lin Xia. He's done a few rock songs. But Chu Zhi? I don't agree," Wu Xi said, lowering his voice but still holding firm.
"You talk like he'd actually accept the invite," Zheng Huo cut in. "Do you even know how much he charges per appearance now? Four or five million per gig. If he agrees to show up, it's because he's giving us face."
Everyone in the room felt like they'd just swallowed a fly. They had framed the invitation as doing Chu Zhi a favor, only to get called out. Now they didn't even want to face the reality.
"Uh…"
Wu Xi didn't dare raise his voice at Zheng Huo. The man was one of the founders of Chinese rock, after all.
"We…"
Before Wu Xi could continue, Zheng Huo cut him off.
"Rock is music. Nobody's nobler than anyone else. Do you think Chu Zhi is lacking in fame or skill? Wake up. Who gave you that sense of superiority?"
With that, Zheng Huo stood up and walked out, leaving the rest of the room in awkward silence.
—
The next morning, Chu Zhi's schedule resumed. Wang Yuan double-checked his condition before letting him begin the day.
"Your voice sounds a lot better. No hoarseness at all. Did you sleep well last night, Jiu-ge?" Lao Qian asked.
"I slept fine," Chu Zhi replied. And it was true. After eating one of those dream-enhancing miracle chocolates, he slept soundly till morning.
Lao Qian didn't buy it. Come on. The guy had psychosomatic symptoms and severe depression. Nightmares should be the norm. How could he have slept well?
"Jiu-ge's a real man," Lao Qian muttered, pulling out his lighter—only to remember that it had been smashed during a fight with his girlfriend. His phone had taken a hit too.
That day's schedule was relatively light. Chu Zhi went through it smoothly. Everything felt normal. The only difference was that more people than usual were asking about his health. And the curious ones? They all wanted to know—what exactly was in that thermos cup?
The next day, Episode 8 of I Am a Singer-Songwriter would air.