The sky tasted a little bitter, like a pot of oolong tea.
Drizzle came down in messy sheets, and the staff scattered about looked like a pot of boiling porridge.
"Brother Chu, wipe off quickly. Can't we postpone the shoot? It's raining, what if you catch a cold?" Xiao Zhuzi chattered nonstop while handing him a dry towel, ginger tea, and all sorts of things to ward off the chill.
"Relax, I won't catch a cold." Chu Zhi rubbed his hair dry, then shook his head like a golden retriever. He could understand the brand's urgency. The rain had come out of nowhere, and no one knew when it'd stop. A delay meant lost money.
He finished the ginger tea. Chu Zhi wasn't the type to say "a little rain's nothing," because keeping himself healthy mattered. If he got sick and had to rest at home, it'd throw off the team's entire schedule.
Five minutes later, the shoot resumed. Chu Zhi's acting was more than enough for commercials. He wasn't just a pretty face anymore.
"If there's anything else, please contact our team anytime," he said to the brand reps before leaving.
"Sorry to trouble you in this sudden rain, Teacher Chu. Please take care." The brand manager, Lao Wan, personally saw him off.
Tsk, tsk. That polite "contact us anytime"—sure, it was probably just empty courtesy, but it was still pleasant to hear. Lao Wan remembered a certain Mr. Zhou, a young idol they'd worked with before, who bolted off set like he was escaping prison. That had left him fuming.
Meanwhile, the Emperor Beast's van was already heading toward the Tianqiao Art Center in Beijing. The "Caring for Rural Children" charity gala was being held in the small theater there, and since Chu Zhi was a main guest, it was better to arrive early.
🎵"Don't know, don't know, don't know how to refuse…"🎵
Chu Zhi's phone rang. The caller was Niu Jiangxue.
Niu Jiangxue told him that Hollywood director Liswit had invited him to compose the soundtrack for his new film Killing Game. Liswit was a rising star, having made two small-budget horror films that both hit big. Killing Game was his first big-budget project.
"Turn it down. I don't have time this year," Chu Zhi said after a moment's thought.
They didn't waste time on small talk. Once Niu Jiangxue got his answer, she hung up. By then, Chu Zhi had arrived at the Tianqiao Cultural Center, a cluster of ivory-white buildings with four modern theaters inside.
As soon as he got out of the car, he saw the old Tianqiao landmark clock tower and the circle of iron fencing where rows of electric scooters were parked.
Normally it was crowded, but today it was packed.
That was because the 1,800-seat main theater was showing Rhinoceros in Love, a famous play. Banners promoting it hung all over the hallways.
In contrast, the charity gala was in a much smaller multifunctional hall with only 300 seats and no advertising.
But that was easy to understand—the event wasn't selling tickets. Of those 300 seats, more than 80% were taken by entrepreneurs, and the rest by media.
It was basically a semi-official event answering a government call. The broadcast lineup was impressive too: Guangming Daily, Renren News, and CCTV-3 were all covering it.
As soon as Chu Zhi got out of the car, staff came up to greet him. Leading them was Peng Xuan, the secretary-general of the China Charity Federation.
"I've long admired you, Teacher Chu. Truly long admired you," Peng Xuan said warmly. "Please, this way. If you enter through the front, the crowd might get excited."
"Thank you, Secretary Peng," Chu Zhi replied.
Peng Xuan led the way through the winding halls until they reached the backstage of the small theater. The facilities were modest but complete. After explaining the key points, Peng Xuan left quietly so Chu Zhi could rest.
Xiao Zhuzi immediately grabbed a thermos to pour him hot water, but the dispenser in the room was empty. She sighed.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door. Xiao Zhuzi glanced at Chu Zhi, who nodded, so she went to open it.
She thought maybe Secretary Peng had forgotten something, but instead, it was Director Hou from the Publicity Department and Wang Mao, president of the federation. Xiao Zhuzi quickly stepped aside.
They greeted all the guests backstage: Chen Enfeng, Yang Yu, Gu Minghong. With them, there was that air of official inspection.
But when they spoke to Chu Zhi, the tone was noticeably more equal. Was that okay to say out loud?
"The last time I saw Consultant Chu was last year," Director Hou said. "No new album this year?"
Wang Mao chimed in, "The last album sold 16 million physical copies. That's a miracle in sales history."
"It'll be out in about two weeks. The Chinese-language album Besieged on All Sides," Chu Zhi replied.
"Then you must save me a signed copy."
"You might not believe it, but my wife's in her forties, and she's a hardcore fan of yours," Director Hou added with a smile.
Two leaders in their fifties chatting about albums with him… it felt surreal.
They weren't just here to say hi though. Part of it was checking in on his career path. Unlike past years, he'd been quiet this year, with only two months left before New Year. Of course, they had no idea he'd been busy shaking things up overseas as the Emperor Beast.
With over thirty minutes until the gala started, Chu Zhi went to greet his senior colleagues: Chen Enfeng, Yang Yu, and Gu Minghong.
All three were gathered in Chen Enfeng's dressing room. She'd shared the stage with him before and knew firsthand how terrifying his talent was, but she also thought he was a good kid.
"Xiao Chu, let me introduce—"
Before she could finish, Gu Minghong laughed, "We already know each other. At the two charity drives I organized, Xiao Chu donated both time and money."
"Then I guess I'm the only stranger here," Yang Yu joked.
Yang Yu's hair and wrinkles showed his age, but his face was glowing with health. Back in the '90s, he'd been a leading soloist in the Central National Song and Dance Troupe, singing in The East Is Red and playing the male lead in Ashima. He was a true veteran.
The four of them chatted about the evening's program. The gala would have three parts: performances, an auction, and donor speeches.
Chen Enfeng, hailed as a "queen of song," had too many classics to choose from. Gu Minghong, though an old artist, picked a newer inspirational track by Gu Peng, wanting to connect with the younger generation—he even had a Bilibili account.
Yang Yu chose New Life, a legendary track worth fifty million in their parallel world. At its first charity performance back in the '90s, one businessman had donated fifty million on the spot.
As for the Emperor Beast, he kept it simple. It was a charity gala, no need for fancy tricks.
"Lao Gu, I see you online all the time. You're the only one who hasn't been left behind by the times," Chen Enfeng teased.
Gu Minghong smiled. He'd gotten into Bilibili years ago when his granddaughter was seriously ill. He'd wanted to understand young people's world. Now her surgery had succeeded, and sharing fun covers online had become a habit.
"This event's hype is all on you and Xiao Chu," Chen Enfeng said.
Yang Yu nodded. "Lao Gu's Weibo followers are already a hundred times mine."
It wasn't an exaggeration. Gu Minghong had over a million followers, a top-tier number among his generation.
"No, no, no. With Xiao Chu here, there's no need for me," Gu Minghong waved it off.
The three seniors were all admired for both their art and their virtue. None of them minded that Chu Zhi was invited to boost publicity. They thought he was a good kid, and besides, sometimes events needed star power.
While the guests chatted backstage, the audience filed in. Media reporters took their spots.
But secrets never stay hidden. Word quickly spread that Chu Zhi was in the Tianqiao Cultural Center, and it stirred up the other theaters.
"I heard a big star's in the small theater."
"Bullshit. What kind of star would perform in a small venue? That's lowering themselves."
"Not really, it's an official charity gala."
"Then maybe. Which star?"
"Seems like Chu Zhi…"
The actors backstage for Rhinoceros in Love whispered among themselves.
The female lead, Wu Li, didn't join their chat. She was immersed in her script. She'd played the role of Mingming countless times, but she still wanted to push herself further every performance.
Nothing could break her focus… until she caught those words: Chu Zhi?! Wu Li's head shot up.
It wasn't just actors talking. Fans were gathering too. The management of Tianqiao grew anxious—being right next to the subway exit, if the crowd swelled, it could turn dangerous.
"Why is Chu Zhi at such a small event?!" the manager muttered. He wasn't blaming Chu Zhi, only the wave of fans making his workload skyrocket.
It had started with a few entrepreneur "mom fans" in the audience posting in their groups. Once word spread, it snowballed into a chain reaction.
Soon whispers filled the hall:
"Chen Enfeng's my mom's idol. I grew up hearing her songs."
"Out of the four guests, Chu Zhi looks ridiculously young."
"Xiao Jiu's always devoted to charity. It's normal to invite him here."
"He's that into charity? I haven't heard much."
"I don't know much either, just a little. But every year, Xiao Jiu does more charity work than any other young star."