Chu Zhi's participation in the music festival created what could only be described as a win-win-win. For Modern Sky, it meant publicity worth tens of millions in renminbi. For Gui City, the benefits were even more unexpected.
According to the joint report released by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism and the Department of Transportation, Gui City did not even make it into the top twenty of the official "Top 50 Cities Most Loved by Foreign Tourists."
The city's usual appeal for foreign visitors rested on its reputation as a "summer resort." Most tourists came during July and August, but it was now already October. For thousands of foreign tourists to pour into the city within just a few days was extremely rare.
The Gui City Tourism Bureau was baffled once they traced where all these foreign tourists were heading.
If it had been for a world-class superstar holding a massive solo concert, they might have understood. But to think that just two songs performed at a music festival could attract so many foreigners—officials in their forties felt increasingly out of touch with this society.
Hotels in Gui City, especially those in the Guanshanhu District along Shugu Avenue, were thriving. Prices normally dropped back to normal after the Golden Week holiday, but in this district, rates remained sky-high.
During large events, hotels always raised their rates. Yet even those who had raised prices this time felt they had underestimated. "If only we'd known it would be this big, we could have gone even higher," the hotel managers thought.
On the first day, there had already been many foreign attendees. The festival ran for two days, and since single-day tickets for the 13th had sold out quickly, many fans snatched up two-day passes instead.
Some foreign fans had even bought the wrong dates entirely…
October 12, a Wednesday. Anyone who'd been to school could easily know the 13th was Thursday.
By the night before, the stage, the sound equipment, and the heavy iron barricades had all been set up in the plaza.
Outside, traffic police were stationed to keep order. With tens of thousands attending, a lack of coordination could have brought the city to a standstill. Security guards patrolled the perimeter, and ticket checkers stood ready at the two eastern and southern gates.
Bands like Sour Grapes and Flying on a Pig entered through the northern gate near the parking area, a route closed to ordinary attendees.
"You didn't see the crowd outside," said Da Di, the eldest of Sour Grapes.
Sour Grapes consisted of three singers from the Chaoshan region. They had broken out of their niche with two lively songs sung in Minnan dialect.
Among them, Xi Gao was the most popular, his looks matching current trends. Fans nicknamed him "Dog Bro."
"You mean the fans holding up support banners?" Xi Gao asked.
"All of them are cheering for Chu Zhi. Imagine if we ever had that kind of treatment," Da Di mused wistfully.
"Ambitious," Xi Gao laughed, giving a thumbs-up. "If we ride Chu Zhi's popularity, we'll make it big too."
The quietest member, Mi Po, bluntly cut in: "Chu Zhi's treatment isn't about ambition. It's about imagination."
"Dreams are what drive us," Da Di countered with conviction. "Without dreams, we're no better than salted fish. Xi Gao, Mi Po, you have to trust me. Stick with me, and we'll be living the good life."
One by one, the guest performers arrived. Among them were two with direct ties to Chu Zhi.
The first was Zhou Yiyu, nicknamed the "Badminton Boy" who had risen to fame after the viral hit "Garbage Bin Anthem." Zhou Yiyu was a grateful sort, deeply appreciative of Chu Zhi. But he had grown weary of performing "Longing to Embrace You in an Ordinary Life." He had no other works that came close in popularity, and in fact, across his two albums, none of the songs had surpassed it. For two years, every commercial performance demanded this one track. Naturally, today's festival was no different.
The second was Gu Beisheng, who owed Chu Zhi his career break three years ago when he was discovered during the Sprite Music Contest. Gifted in composition, Gu Beisheng had developed steadily and gained some recognition.
Chu Zhi himself was scheduled as the final headliner, arriving later than the rest.
With all the guests gathered, the gates opened for the audience—
"I am foreigner, this my ID, ticket my friend bought… thank you."
"I am ID… ticket… no, no, wrong."
Ojima Matsushika muttered as he walked, reciting the basic Chinese phrases he had drilled for over a month. Focused so hard, he didn't notice the path ahead until he suddenly bumped into something soft, like a pole wrapped in blankets.
"You coward…" He almost blurted a string of Japanese curses, instinctively raising his hands to shield his head, the movement practiced and natural.
But he stopped short. Abroad, it was better to stay low-key. And besides—he hadn't hit a pole. He had collided with a young woman.
"Hello, sorry," said Yoon A a South Korean fan, who had been too busy excitedly messaging a friend about finally seeing "Professor" to notice him.
"It's… it's fine," Ojima Matsushika stammered, struggling to recall the Chinese word for "band-aid."
A Japanese man and a South Korean woman, both choosing to fumble through in Mandarin. Amusing, in a way.
Then both realized the other wasn't Chinese. They tried switching to English, but Japanese-accented English and Korean-accented English proved equally tough. In the end, their clumsy Chinese was still easier.
Among the ten thousand attendees, over thirty-seven hundred were fans from Japan, South Korea, and Vietnam. Nearly a quarter of the total.
Modern Sky had failed to anticipate this. They had not thought so many foreigners would attend, so none of the festival's signage or directions had been translated.
"This way in, then turn left."
"As for the program schedule… I don't know if there's a booklet. But I do know—the idol is the last to perform."
"Sorry, I don't know where the official information booth is either."
Little Fruits- Xiao Xiao ended up helping countless Japanese and Korean fans. She only did it because her English was decent.
"If they weren't all Jiu-yé's fans, I wouldn't bother," she muttered.
Xiao Xiao was not the most vocal fan online, but she never missed a live event. Compared to others, she was especially eager to see which songs Jiu-yé would perform today.
The atmosphere between the Little Fruits and the foreign fan groups was surprisingly harmonious. The only discontented group was a tiny minority—
The "ordinary audience."
Because of the influx of Chu Zhi's fans, all ten thousand tickets for Gui City's Strawberry Music Festival had sold out in seconds, almost entirely to fan groups.
Almost, but not entirely. Around twenty or thirty people had "stumbled in by accident."
One such man was Xiao Gang, in his thirties, who had managed to snag a ticket by chance.
"Honestly… this should be a music festival, not a fan club meet-up," Xiao Gang sighed. He actually liked Chu Zhi's songs—catchy and easy to listen to.
But the overwhelming fan support atmosphere soured his impression.
"Should've just scalped it. Could've pocketed thousands," he muttered.
He had been tempted, knowing others had resold their tickets for absurd profits. But his long-time rival had mocked him, and stubborn pride made him hold onto it.
Now, sitting here, he couldn't help resenting the loss. "Spending thousands just to attend a fan rally instead of a real music festival. What a mess."
"Chu Zhi is a good singer," Xiao Gang admitted inwardly. "But a music festival shouldn't rest on just one person's shoulders."
The other twenty or so "non-fan" audience members shared the same sentiment.
At two o'clock sharp, the festival officially began. Like all music festivals, the first band's job was to warm up the crowd. Not too dazzling, but not bad either.
The four-man band Flying on a Pig opened the show with their quirky name and equally quirky music.