In showbiz, fame and quality both matter—and should ideally go hand in hand. But investors only care about one thing: popularity.
Armani wanted to sign Chu Zhi as global ambassador for their skincare line, offering a ¥23 million renewal. This proposal split the management team. While becoming the first Chinese global ambassador would boost his status, Niu Jiangxue firmly opposed it.
Soon after, Armani returned with an offer for the ready-to-wear line: ¥58 million per year, plus a ¥5 million signing bonus.
"This can still be negotiated," Niu Jiangxue said after exiting the meeting. The two sides had begun talks, but hadn't reached a deal.
"It feels like Brother Jiu's focus on acting is fast-tracking his fame," Lao Qian remarked. Then second-guessed himself: "But When I Close My Eyes was a lightning-in-a-bottle movie. I doubt even the director expected an Asia-wide wave."
"We can't put all our hopes in festivals," Lao Qian continued. "And Brother Jiu is being called a music genius."
"Movies are just supplementary," Niu Jiangxue pointed out, noting the flood of script offers from big studios.
"Soon Armani will be begging Brother Jiu to be their global face," Lao Qian said confidently. After all, he speaks multiple languages and can seal fan loyalty across markets.
Currently, Armani's global ambassador for prêt-à-porter is Hollywood star Augusta Pablo—an Oscar nominee and member of the $100 million paycheck club. Chu Zhi's fame wasn't yet on that level.
Negotiations were taking place on the 56th floor of Wharf International Plaza in Hong Kong's JA district, home to Armani's Greater China HQ.
Meanwhile, Qiu Qiu and assistant Fei went to Adidas's China headquarters after a summer-campaign ad was flagged for insulting Chinese culture.
"Hello, Mr. Qiu," Director Wu greeted them.
"As we discussed over the phone, what's your explanation for the May 6 ad?" Qiu asked directly after exchanging pleasantries.
"It was a minor oversight by marketing. We've removed the ad," Wu said casually.
"But it was deleted from your domestic site while still live overseas. Whether an oversight or deliberate, you must issue a public apology, or it'll seriously damage our client's reputation," Qiu pressed.
Wu frowned. "Mr. Chu represents the Trefoil line—not the Summer Sparkle shoes—so reputation won't be harmed. The fallout was contained."
As if by money-washing—preemptively managing public opinion before it hit Douyin or Weibo. Wu added, "Removing the domestic post shows sincerity. Adidas is a Fortune 500 company. We're about mutual success, not interference."
It was arrogance thinly veiled as logic. Qiu's blood boiled—stomping on China's flag design is no "oversight." It demanded accountability.
"So that's your final stance, Director Wu?" Qiu asked, tone stern.
"Shall we have lunch at a nearby steakhouse?" Wu suggested.
"No thank you," Qiu replied evenly. "I'll report your attitude accurately."
"Enjoy your journey," Wu replied nonchalantly as they left.
Adidas had signed Chu Zhi to the Trefoil ambassador deal in January—¥55 million annual fee plus ¥5.8 million signing bonus. They had a contract to protect.
Wu assumed Chu Zhi would never break the deal over a minor controversy. To Wu, idols are tools—and brushing off domestic fury was no big deal.
Outside, the skies over Shenzhen were sunny, while Shanghai shifted from cloudy to heavy rain, driven by sudden downpours. Umbrellas struggled under the wind, just like public opinion struggling to breathe.
Back at the meeting, Lao Qian and Niu Jiangxue handled business smoothly, but Qiu's trip ended badly. He refused to sugarcoat Wu's tone.
"Adidas is arrogant," Chu Zhi said quietly.
The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for his decision.
Qiu expected Chu might call them out. Still, Niu Jiangxue and Lao Qian shook their heads—too risky to draw attention on social media.
Just then Chu Zhi broke the silence: "Is the Global Chinese Music Awards coming up soon?"
"In two days," Lao Qian replied.
"How many nominations do we have?"
Lao Qian looked to Niu Jiangxue. "Seven in total."
"Then we'll definitely win something," Chu Zhi said. "I'll handle the rest."
No grand speech calling out Adidas—just quiet confidence. Niu Jiangxue and Lao Qian gave each other a nod.
Preparation resumed at full speed. Dozens of tasks—from interviews to photo shoots—kicked into high gear. By evening, the team was embroiled in another debate: endorsing Huawei or another domestic smartphone brand.
No resolution was reached.
Chu Zhi's day ended around 10:30 PM. His driver, Qiu ge, dropped him off shortly after 11.
As Chu Zhi walked down a dimly lit path, an orange cat darted out and meowed. It rolled over, asking for food.
"I didn't bring any," Chu Zhi laughed. The cat sprinted away as quickly as it appeared.
Back home, he showered and checked the Adidas site overseas. The controversial Summer Sparkle ad was still live in Japan and Korea. No accident—it was deliberate.
Though he's an image-focused star, Chu Zhi knows respect for one's country is non‑negotiable. Anger welled inside, but he kept his composure.
He realized he wasn't even that hungry anymore. The overeating of carbs couldn't soothe the unease—this grievance was Adidas's fault.
Two days passed, and the entertainment world prepared for a key night.
The awards ceremony would be held at Rongcheng Overseas Chinese Town Grand Theater. Next door was a theme park. Normally busy, tonight it was overflowing with fans.
It seems many award shows have moved to Rongcheng lately—perhaps even more than Shanghai.
The awards, hosted by Channel V (Asia's largest satellite music channel with coverage in the Middle East, Southeast, and South Asia), carried serious prestige.
The venue was ready two days in advance—banners, posters, and throngs of fans set up outside.
Traffic on Xihua Avenue was at a standstill, especially around Chu Zhi's entrance.
By 6 PM the fan bases—Little Fruits—had claimed their positions. Reporters from QQ Entertainment were stuck in traffic for over an hour.
"It's a sea of fans," said reporter Xiao Yang.
"It's not just us—The Paper's team is also jammed. Only NetEase and Sina managed to get through," Xiao Zhou replied.
Videos shot by fans showed walls of banners and thunderous chants:
"Brother Jiu, you're the brightest star in the night sky"
"Love is admiration, nerves, shyness, certainty—it's you"
"No rising star compares to brother Jiu's features"
"Crazy for Jiu, crashing against the wall for Jiu"
"It's terrifying," Xiao Yang said. "We can't even walk."
"There's still over an hour to go," Xiao Zhou sighed. With equipment in tow, they couldn't just bike in.
That evening, more than ten thousand fans gathered nationwide for the live ceremony, each one chanting for brother Jiu.