They didn't realize until they arrived: this year's Orange Festival allowed minors to join the lottery too. Out of 300 attendees, 53 were under eighteen.
Among them, 50 young "Little Fruits" chose to bring a parent along. Ling Zinan was just one of them—nothing special.
"Now I feel better," Ling Zinan muttered to himself. He'd been worried that showing up with his mom might get him laughed at by the others. But seeing everyone else doing the same made it no big deal.
The fans lined up into four neat rows on their own. The entrance gate had four ticket check-in counters. Ling Zinan had arrived late, so he was toward the back of the line.
"Mom, we're in line now," Ling Zinan whispered.
The line looked like a clean brushstroke. His mother, however, stood off to the side like an ink drop that splashed outside the page.
"Just stand here," his mother replied casually.
"I told you to stand in line, just do it. Why ask so many questions?" Ling Zinan mumbled, his tone slightly impatient. He didn't know how to explain that this—lining up properly—was a point of pride for Little Fruits. A matter of honor and commitment.
He was afraid she wouldn't understand. Worse, afraid she might dismiss it altogether. So instead of trying to explain, he just snapped.
"Oh…" his mother murmured, stepping into place. She was used to this. Her son had grown up, and nowadays, he rarely said more than a few words before growing impatient.
Ling Zinan noticed and felt a pang in his chest.
Even Brother Jiu didn't have a mom. He probably couldn't even hear this kind of nagging, even if he wanted to.
Listen to Your Mama, the theme song Brother Jiu had written for a movie, started playing in his head. It was one of Ling Zinan's favorites.
🎵 Listen to your mama, don't let her get hurt. Gotta grow up fast, so you can protect her... 🎵
He turned to his mother. "Look over there. See that reporter sneaking around with a camera? Fans want to look good on camera, so we're all lining up neatly."
"Oh? A reporter? Then yeah, we should line up nicely," his mom mumbled, still muttering about how she would've lined up earlier if she'd known.
All 300 fans waited outside the exhibition hall. There were still thirty minutes until check-in, but their minds were already inside.
Ling Zinan glanced toward the front. Someone up there was holding a phone—it looked like a livestream? But he couldn't hear what they were saying from so far away.
"My chestnuts, I've waited forever for today. I sacrificed my roommate's chance to date for the rest of the year just to win this ticket!"
"I might be the first Douyin streamer ever to attend the Orange Festival. Not even sure if I'm allowed to film!"
The one livestreaming was a C-list Douyin host with a total following of about fifty thousand. Her ID was Maine Doesn't Eat Meat. Because of her slightly chubby cheeks, some playful fans had nicknamed her Rou Rou—Meaty.
🎥 First in the Whole Web! Live at the Orange Festival!! That was her stream title.
Plenty of Little Fruits were on Douyin too, so the viewer count skyrocketed.
Rourou was ecstatic. It wouldn't be long before she became a viral influencer, standing at the peak of the internet world. Other people spent money chasing stars. She could make money while doing it.
[Nice! I remember last year someone came too early and got sunburned at the check-in, so they added these shade tents this time.]
[Other celebrities are trying to host fan festivals too, but the Orange Festival is still the real deal.]
[LOL, are you shading that one dude—Zhou Guowu? Didn't he charge fans 1,500 each just to attend?]
Rou Rou saw the comments and quickly responded, "Let's not talk about other celebrities today, okay, brothers? Let's just enjoy the Orange Festival."
They were referring to a recent controversy. Earlier this year, top star Zhou Guowu tried hosting a fan event. Fans found out they were being charged 1,500 for lodging and airfare.
Was it really a fan festival if you had to pay? If both sides agreed, fine. But charging without warning? Too much.
The backlash was brutal. Zhou Guowu's studio later issued a statement, claiming the charges weren't official, just unauthorized by a third-party vendor. As compensation, they offered some free merch. Still, the nickname stuck. Netizens started calling his fans the "Leek Generation."
Despite Rou Rrou's warnings, the chat exploded with comparisons.
[Just look at how other celebs treat their fans. Now look at Jiu-yé. Night and day.]
[Without contrast, there'd be no pain.]
[Rou Rou's panicking! Girl, you've been a Little Fruit for years. Those Leek fans wouldn't dare step into the Orange Grove. Don't be scared.]
Eventually, she gave up trying to moderate the chat. Like they said, Zhou Guowu's fans could bark online all they wanted. They'd never dare pick a fight with Little Fruits. The numbers weren't in their favor.
Soon enough, the staff began ticket check-in. All 350 attendees entered the venue in an orderly fashion.
Having hosted the festival once before, this second time felt much smoother. Upon entering, fans walked down a long corridor. Both walls were lined with handwritten messages:
"I love him this year, and I'll still love him ten years from now."
"So happy to take a picture with Jiu-yé."
"Give me glory."
"I've seen the sea, and nothing compares. Jiu-yé is worth chasing for a lifetime."
Rou Rou noticed it immediately.
"Wow, look at this!" she said as she moved forward. Just ahead of the message wall was a [Memory Keepsake] area, featuring a large group photo and dozens of event snapshots.
Everyone in those photos—every Little Fruit—was smiling so brightly.
"These must be fans from last year's Orange Festival," Rou Rou said. "They look like they had so much fun. These photos are displayed here. I bet every event has a group photo for memories. That's so thoughtful."
The livestream chat went wild. Usually, fans treasured photos with their idols. But here, the idol was preserving fans' memories. Who was this person?
Then Rou Rou spotted a message:
"I was one of the first Little Fruits. A week after the event, a staff member contacted me. I got my event photos for free. Everyone who attended got theirs."
"Free photos? This is what a real star looks like!" Rou Rou couldn't hold back. She name-dropped directly.
She looked down the corridor. "Guys, think about it. This hallway's already packed, but what if they keep hosting more festivals? There won't be enough space! I'm honestly so touched right now."
By then, her stream had over 100,000 viewers. More than 10,000 were real-time participants. The comment section was flooded with emotional reactions.
And this was just the beginning.
Imagine if they knew that Chu Zhi had kept more than 100,000 fan letters and blessing cards. That alone would've blown the internet apart.
Chu Zhi might not say he was playing 4D chess, but every move was calculated. Collecting fan memories now would make for perfect moments at his concerts. A little heartbreak, followed by a little sweetness. All part of the plan.
The main hall was decorated even more elaborately. The ceiling was covered in star patterns. The theme was "A starry sky above, an orange grove below." Even the chairs and sofas were orange. The whole space radiated orange warmth.
Snacks like white marshmallows, lime-flavored chips, crispy cones, and wafers were stacked in the middle like a mountain at the heart of the grove.
With 300 fans and 50 parents, the venue had enough chairs, couches, and stools for at least 500. That meant even the most introverted Little Fruit could find their own quiet corner.
"Mom, here's some water." Ling Zinan handed her a bottle of mineral water.
His mother was about to ask if the snacks were just for display. What if they weren't meant to be eaten? But her son beat her to it.
"Don't worry. All of this is from Brother Jiu. It's free," Ling Zinan said proudly.
That feeling—Look at my idol. Look how good he is—wasn't unique to him. All the Little Fruits who brought their parents had the same glow.
The adults, meanwhile, couldn't help but wonder: Are there really stars in the world this generous?
If they hadn't seen it themselves, they wouldn't have believed it. Take Qi's father, for instance. He came along with his seventeen-year-old daughter and was already starting to warm up to Chu Zhi.
Munching on crispy cones and pickled chicken feet, he thought, This star's not bad.
Every fan had a snack budget of 300. Whatever they couldn't finish, they could take home.
"Tsk tsk, I don't know why, but snacks from Jiu-yé just taste better," Rou Rou said, holding up a seaweed chip to the camera. "Fan perks come first."
Just then, a thin figure emerged from the backstage area. Ling Zinan's mother's eyes lit up first.
"It's Teacher Kun," she said.
"Hello hello! I'm your host for this year's fan festival," Kun Yun greeted. "Good afternoon, Little Fruits!"
He had volunteered to host. The original hosts had been Wei and Huang, but Kun Yun, feeling indebted to Chu Zhi, had offered to take over.
Wei Tongzi, a hardcore Little Fruit herself, had been happy to host again. But when Kun Yun stepped up—and she had a scheduling conflict—she gave him the slot without hesitation.
"This is the second Orange Festival. Today, the most important thing is that we all have fun!" Kun Yun said brightly. "I'll start by giving a quick rundown of the schedule..."
In a quiet corner, someone was peeking out secretly. It was Old Qian.
Seeing everything running smoothly, the exhibition lead breathed a sigh of relief. He left the side hall to head to the restaurant next door, where the evening banquet for over 300 people would take place.
"Working with Jiu-yé... too many temptations. Good thing I'm a solid guy," Old Qian muttered.
Wang Yuan didn't have time this year, so Old Qian handled all snack procurement. Several snack brands even paid to sponsor the event.
Why?
Because of profit.
The first Orange Festival had drawn over a million views on the Orange Home app. After a year, total replays had reached 27.85 million.
The platform's stats were known for being tight. Repeated views from the same IP didn't count. That level of engagement was like a full-scale livestream sale. Naturally, snack brands wanted in. One even offered a nearly seven-figure sponsorship. Old Qian still turned it down.
He could already see it: as the Orange Festival grew, it might even spawn its own "Orange Rankings." Snacks that made it into the event could become a selling point.
===
"听妈妈的话"(Tīng Māma de Huà) – "Listen to Your Mama"
Original Artist: 周杰伦 (Jay Chou)