A three-meter-long red carpet is the ultimate showcase of fame and prestige. On either side, cameras clicked nonstop, fans pressed behind black barricades—and in the middle, the celebrities strolled like planets around the sun.
Reporters shouted questions:
"Mr. Li Guangpu, there are allegations that your new album cover was plagiarized. Any comment?"
"Over here, please—"
"Teacher Song Yuqian, care to respond to the recent rumors?"
"Mr. Miao Tan, please strike two poses for us, thank you!"
The nominees at the Global Chinese Music Awards were all talented artists. Among the top five trending stars, only Li Fei was a peer in popularity.
Li Fei had graduated from the vocal department of China's Central Conservatory of Music, earning the nickname "Prince of Bel Canto." The judges admired him deeply.
When Li Fei stepped onto the red carpet, the atmosphere exploded like water thrown onto hot oil:
"Ahhh I love you, brother!"
"Forever with Li!"
"Li is the one!"
"Sorry Li, I loved you without permission!"
Even those on the signing wall during photo ops were taken aback.
Miao Tan, also a Central Conservatory alumnus, laughed and said, "Fei is my younger schoolmate."
"His songs are pretty good," he added.
Song Yuqian, a Malaysian-Chinese singer who rose to fame in Taiwan before returning to the mainland, was in her thirties and had many hit songs. In fantasy literature terms, she was a "half-step diva."
"Let him come over for a photo later," Miao suggested.
Miao Tan, runner-up in the 2007 Happy Boys, once had a large fanbase. But after being shelved and then appearing on shows, he never reached the same popularity as the "half-step diva."
Some artists signed and entered—except Li Guangpu. He was tangled in plagiarism controversy and didn't want to answer questions.
Minutes later, Li Fei scampered over with excitement, greeting, "Miao ge, this ceremony is huge this year! I'm kinda nervous. Last time I performed here, I snuck in through the back!"
"Don't act so cool," Miao teased, then introduced him to Song Yuqian.
"Of course I know Li-fei. Your song 'Guidance of the Heart' is a staple at my KTV," Song said.
Li Fei replied, "That song's high vocals require perfect control. You're the only one who can pull it off!"
Song—famous for her high notes—took the compliment at face value and returned it graciously.
Li Fei's face stayed calm, but inwardly he sighed. These people weren't doing proper praise. If it were Brother Jiu (Chu Zhi), he'd have added, "Hitting those high notes is really tough!"
He missed Chu Zhi.
He knew Chu Zhi was nominated for more awards than him this year.
They chatted a bit more, signed the wall, posed for a photo, and entered the grand theater together.
The Overseas Chinese Town Grand Theater seats 1,600, but most seats were covered by curtains—there was no way every nominee could attend.
Inside, dozens of artists had already taken their places, chatting in small groups.
Most nominees were between 35 and 50 yo—Li Fei really was one of the younger ones. He wasn't bullish, just talkative with people he knew.
After a while, a chant echoed from the audience: "Fame reaches the skies, Brother Jiu unparalleled!"
Miao Tan froze. They could hear it inside, thirty to forty meters away. Song Yuqian's wide eyes showed her surprise too—she thought Li Fei had a strong fanbase; she hadn't expected this.
"Mhm—Brother Jiu's fans are numerous and united," Li Fei said. He wasn't jealous; after all, he and Chu Zhi were close.
Some artists smirked, others looked envious or dismissive. But beneath it all was jealousy.
Li Guangpu, the triangular-eyed singer, scoffed inwardly: "Lots of fans but no quality—undeserved fame."
Being popular won't bring skills, he mumbled.
A Beijing singer signed with Universal and once called himself the successor of male pop—he even performed at Hong Kong Coliseum. But after switching to Emperor Entertainment, his career tanked.
Chu Zhi entered the venue, taking in his surroundings, when someone shouted, "Brother Jiu, finally meeting you after years of admiration!"
Inside the hall were many of his friends—Li Fei, Yang Xinbo, Ge Ying, Gu Peng, Yang Guiyun.
But the first to greet him was Li Guangpu.
"I'm Li Guangpu," he said. At 41, much older than Chu Zhi, it felt natural to call him "Brother Jiu."
"I sing your songs at KTV. They need technique and feeling," Chu Zhi answered warmly.
Honestly, Chu Zhi hadn't heard the name before, but that didn't stop him from being polite.
"Kinda hard to sing The Difficult Sutra," Li Guangpu said. "I tried once and gave up mid‑song. Let's exchange WeChat?"
They immediately added each other.
Clearly, Li Guangpu admired Chu Zhi, even if secretly bitter. At Chu Zhi's level, you may not like him, but you still befriend him.
Next came other familiar faces:
"You heartless guy—you didn't call me," joked Yang Xinbo, the social butterfly.
Chu Zhi waved it off, "Let's talk normally, Yang ge."
"I knew you weren't into this stuff," Yang teased. "When you come to Shanghai next, dinner's on me. Beef noodles, extra cilantro and chili?"
Chu Zhi laughed. "Sure—but double the meat."
"That's asking a lot," Yang joked back.
Li Fei, Ge Ying, Gu Peng, Yang Guiyun—they all greeted each other. In just over a year, Chu Zhi had gained a wide circle.
As guests settled, the hosts walked in.
Host Pan Ying from Day Day Up welcomed the audience: "Welcome to the 25th Global Chinese Music Awards! I'm your host, Pan Ying. It's my honor."
Lights cooled as stage lighting took over, making every performer feel elevated.
With 28 awards, they fell into three categories: the "Global Chart Awards," the "Asian Influence Awards," and "Channel V Awards." The Global Chart Awards were top-tier.
First came the Channel V categories and then the Asian Influence awards.
Chu Zhi won first:
Channel V Song of the Year – Chrysanthemum Terrace
Best Asian Influence Male Singer
Best Asian Influence Album – Awaiting the World
He kept his acceptance speeches brief—these weren't the main events.
The Asian Influence awards measured pan-Asian recognition. The chart awards were coming up.
About one hour and fan chants later, they reached the main awards.
Chu Zhi had four nominations:
Song of the Year
Most Popular Male Singer
Best Male Singer
Best Album
The team expected him to win at least one of the male singer categories.
Face tense, guests leaned forward. Li Fei tapped his foot like he was doing tap dance.
One by one, the awards were announced.
"The winner of Chart Song of the Year is… 'You Still Haven't Loved Me'—Song Yuqian!"
Song Yuqian grabbed Song of the Year and Best Female Singer. She was the big winner.
"And the Most Popular Male Singer is… Chu Zhi!"
Polite applause filled the hall.
"This is the fifth time I've come up tonight," Chu Zhi said, holding his trophy. "I've already thanked fans, my grandpa, the agency, everyone who's supported me. But there's one more very important thing I must say."
He turned to the organizers. "May I show a video?"
They played a 20-second clip of the Adidas Summer Sparkle ad.
Most guests were Chinese, and their expressions tightened as they watched a shoe tread over a flag pattern.
Some looked puzzled: "What's he doing at an awards show? Adidas is a Fortune 500 company—has he lost his mind?"
"This was an ad released overseas by Adidas. After netizens exposed it, they deleted it here, but it remains live abroad," Chu Zhi said.
"Because I'm a Trefoil ambassador, I asked them to remove all versions and issue an apology. Is that too much to ask?"
Silence.
Media were electrified. An awards ceremony just became big news.
Host Pan Ying hesitated.
"Not too much. If you make money in our market, respect our culture. Don't insult our country overseas and refuse to apologize," Chu Zhi continued firmly.
"Therefore," he declared, "I am terminating all cooperation with Adidas."
"I love my country. And because of Adidas's arrogant stance and disrespect, I will boycott all Adidas products effective immediately."
It wasn't just quitting—it was a declaration of war.
Cutting ties with a brand over a slight? This was unprecedented. Everyone was stunned.