The next day, iQIYI's grand finale episode dominated the bullet chats and comment sections. It even surpassed the episode featuring "Chapter Seven of the Night" in overall buzz.
Naturally, a finale draws more attention than the middle of the season. The fight for the crown always brings the crowds.
Among Han Yu's fans, a few began to drift away. Even after a five-on-one assault, Chu Zhi still turned the tables. This moment marked the official collapse of the so-called "K-Wave supremacy," and Chu Zhi had accomplished that in just six months.
The final episode had another unexpected ripple—it reached into the rock scene.
"Chu Zhi is really going all-in on the guofeng path," said Xu Ji, letting out a sigh. "Your little brother is way too talented."
"Yeah," Zheng Huo agreed. They'd just finished listening to some heavy metal. Originally, they were hopeful that Chu Zhi might veer a little toward rock. As two veterans of the rock scene, they were excited.
Instead, he took a sharp left turn and went into opera.
"Let's shake things up a bit," Xu Ji said.
"What do you mean?" Zheng Huo raised an eyebrow, unsure of his friend's intentions.
"Let's bring Chu Zhi to next year's Fuji Rock Festival."
The Fuji Rock Festival, born in the late '90s, is Asia's largest rock music event, held every May at the Naeba Ski Resort in Niigata, Japan.
"We don't have enough slots," Zheng Huo frowned, thinking they might need to bump someone.
A few extra solo singers wouldn't matter much, but their whole band going together was another story. There were strict limits on how many people they could bring.
"I won't go this year," Xu Ji said. "My voice is giving out anyway."
Which rock scene was more vibrant, Japan's or China's? Hard to say. Depends on who you ask. But when it came to the atmosphere and ecosystem, Japan's rock scene was hands-down the most mature in Asia.
"Let's give it more thought," said Zheng Huo. Deep down, he still wanted his old buddy to go, but he knew the truth—Xu Ji's voice wasn't what it used to be.
While the two old friends wrestled with that, Chu Zhi's management team was having their own internal struggle. His endorsement fees were already sky-high, practically untouchable. But after the finale aired, they started getting flooded with brand offers.
Midea, ZTE, and Quanyou Furniture had all sent in invitations. The momentum felt surreal. It meant domestic brands now saw Chu Zhi as a bona fide top-tier celebrity.
So besides the usual daily schedule, the entire team spent the day discussing the offers."Should we take them?""If so, how many?"The day turned hectic.
By the time Chu Zhi got home, it was already 10:30 at night. He showered, changed into pajamas, and headed straight into his study, where he stayed for another three or four hours.
"The more I read, the more I feel how little I actually know. Is this that whole 'learning never ends' thing?" he mused.Good thing he wasn't in academia, he thought with relief.
Chu Zhi had deep respect for scholars and scientists—anyone who devoted their life to learning. People always admire what they themselves cannot do.
A message popped up.
Qian Laoshi: "Ninth Brother, iQIYI just sent over the official guest list."
Chu Zhi: "You should go to bed early, Qian-ge. Don't stay up so late."
Qian Laoshi: "Okay okay, I thought you'd already be asleep. I'll crash soon."
Chu Zhi: "I just got caught up in a good book, that's all."
Qian Laoshi: "Got it. Good night, good night."
It was already 2 a.m. Qian Laoshi had just gotten home after drinks with friends and casually sent over the file.
He hadn't expected Chu Zhi to still be awake.
"Ninth Brother is still hiding the truth about his depression. He just can't fall asleep early," Qian muttered. He didn't really believe the whole "reading a good book" thing.
"But once he starts filming 'Star Journey,' he won't be able to hide it," he added, slightly drunk. He meant to take a shower, but passed out the second his head hit the pillow.
Chu Zhi opened the file to preview the cast lineup. Including himself, there were three male and two female regular guests. A rotating guest would appear every two episodes.
The rotating slots weren't finalized yet. Among the regulars, the oldest was Zhang Ning, a 45-year-old actor known for playing historical roles like Empress Lü, Empress Dowager Dou, and Wang Zhaojun.
Chu Zhi wanted to prepare in advance. It didn't take much effort to memorize everyone's notable works.
After all, you don't punch someone who smiles at you. Even if you dislike someone, it's hard to stay cold when they know your best work and can even name the awards you've won.
He had this habit back on Earth too. If he had a business meeting with a CEO, he'd read up on that person's interviews or recent projects.
A few days later, the buzz around "The New Drunken Concubine" started to fade. In this fast-paced world, almost nothing stayed hot for more than three days.
Then, CCTV-11 aired a special episode of Hundred Schools of Opera, hosted by Mr. Bai, a seasoned opera fan, who interviewed prominent Peking opera performers.
During one segment, Mr. Bai asked,
"What do you think of Chu Zhi's version of 'The New Drunken Concubine'? People are calling it professional."
The master on the show didn't answer right away. After the episode aired, he had his disciple publish his comments online.
"There's a lot to say, so I've written it down for clarity.
Master Cheng Yanqu's strength lay not in having perfect natural conditions, but in developing techniques to turn his weaknesses into strengths.
'Dao Cang' is our professional term—it refers to the voice drop and tone shift that happens during puberty. When Cheng was a teen, studying under Master Mei Lanfang, his voice was exceptionally clear and bright.
After his voice changed, he invented a technique called 'back-of-the-head resonance,' similar to the 'bei gong qiang' used by male painted-face roles.
That's why, in Chu Zhi's performance of 🎵"In love and hate, we drift apart"🎵, his voice stayed strong and steady, even as the pitch climbed unnaturally high.
What Chu Zhi used was that very same resonance technique from the Cheng school. He aligned his pharyngeal wall, lifted the soft palate, and directed airflow downward. His mid-to-low range expanded through intercostal chest muscles.
When he sang 🎵"Your Majesty, please, one more drink"🎵, his delivery was ghostly and soft, closer to the vocal quality of the Tea-Picking Opera from southern Jiangxi. During high notes, his diaphragm stayed open, while the core power was retracted, forming dynamic opposition at the waist. The result was a vocalization unique to Cheng-style Qingyi—like spring water trickling through stones, flowing smoothly with clarity.
As the current head of the Cheng school, I can say this confidently: no existing disciple of our lineage has shown this level of brilliance.
If Chu Zhi is self-taught, then his raw talent is not inferior to Cheng Yanqu. He possesses not only the melancholic elegance of the style, but a voice that naturally carries regality and grace.
I sincerely hope he continues his studies on this path. If he ever needs guidance, my door is always open."
Of course, Chu Zhi was not Cheng Yanqu. Every voice is unique. Also, the skill Chu Zhi used came from the fictional character Cheng Dieyi. There were bound to be differences.
But the speaker here was Master Cheng Mao—grandson of Cheng Yanqu and current leader of the Cheng school. No one could argue with that. If he said Chu Zhi was as gifted as his grandfather, who could object?
Cheng Mao rarely spoke to the press, but in this case, he couldn't stay quiet. Chu Zhi's talent was simply too visible to ignore.
How powerful was the Cheng school? Very. But Cheng Mao knew better than anyone—art, especially opera, relied heavily on raw talent. His only wish was to see the art form flourish.
"Is Master Cheng really trying to teach us this technique himself?"
"Ninth Brother is god-tier. Between 'Chrysanthemum Terrace,' 'Dream Back to Tang Dynasty,' and now 'New Drunken Concubine,' it's clear he's obsessed with the Tang era."
"No, listen, he's not just good—he's insane. I study bel canto, and even our professor said Chu Zhi must have had formal vocal training. No amateur could be that professional."
"Then we looked it up. Surprise! Ninth Brother never studied opera or bel canto formally."