"Mr Chu, over here, this way." At the airport gate, holding a handmade sign reading Star Journey in bold marker, was Xiao Tang, assistant to producer-director Che Lun. He was there to show how much the team valued Chu Zhi.
In the film world, minor officials gather at the prime minister's gate—here, Xiao Tang had some clout. His colleagues called him "Brother Tang." Yet his service toward Chu Zhi veered toward over-politeness as he took charge of their luggage.
"Glad the ANA flight was on time. They tend to run late," Xiao Tang remarked, making conversation.
"Thank you, Assistant Tang," Chu Zhi replied, then asked, "Have Mr Zhang, Mr Luo, Mr Cai, and Mr Min arrived yet?"
"Only Mr Min came on today's flight. He's already at the annex," Xiao Tang replied immediately.
"Got it." In Chu Zhi's mind he pictured a familiar, amusing face.
Min Zhengpei, aged thirty five, had been a child star who smoothly transitioned to comedy at sixteen. His knack for humor and timing made him a reliable box office draw—especially during lunar new year seasons, where he headlined three consecutive billion‑yuan films.
Min hadn't even been the highest‑paid guest on Star Journey. Only Chu Zhi matched his fee.
Chit chat flowed as Xiao Tang drove them twenty minutes through Sapporo's crowded airport scene to the vehicle lot. Unsure how many team members each guest would bring, the show had arranged a minibus. Chu Zhi boarded and chose a seat anywhere. If someone is shy, they sit near the door or into an empty corner. Chu Zhi picked a middle seat—bluntly social.
"We'll arrive in about thirty minutes," Xiao Tang reminded him.
"All good," Chu Zhi stretched. Thanks to first class seats and his stamina pill, the flight had been comfortable.
Their destination was the Jozankei Charlit Hotel, next to Jozankei hot springs and about twenty kilometers from Chitose Airport. Its secluded location outside the city showed the show had not held back.
"I'll show my language card later," thought Chu Zhi. He kept his fluency in Japanese under wraps—director Koguchi Yoshihiro did not know.
They entered a narrow mountain road surrounded by lush scenic gardens. Known as Sapporo's back garden, a creek flowed like a stringed instrument, plants dense like its wood body. The design looked cleaner and more refined than much of China's scenic areas.
The Charlit Hotel occupied prime springs real estate with several onsen wells. Lao Qian mentioned they'd soak after arrival.
Previously he'd wondered why anime murder mysteries never occurred here—Jozankei had no haunted legends.
As they neared the front, cameras and lights already waited. Che Lun had secured both the main building and annex—a sign donors were heavy hitters.
"This looks nice," said Xiao Zhu, checking the cameras. "In Little Red Book they said once autumn comes, those maple trees light up the hills."
Filming had begun already. Chu Zhi, sharp as ever, sensed it immediately.
"It's our star journey, a chance to experience travel joy," a man's voice boomed—typical show opener.
"Our first stop overseas, Sapporo."
"Mr Chu, to stay in the Star Wing, you must wear an identity badge," explained Wang Suo, the local presenter in a cat‑print hoodie, holding out a star‑shaped pin.
That little kitty looked more like a troublemaker.
Several beefy staff in hotel uniforms stood with arms folded, cold-faced. Their message was clear: no badge, no stay.
"And how do I get one?" Chu Zhi smelled mischief.
"All luggage except essentials—clothes and toiletries—is not allowed. Phones and wallets must also be handed in," Wang Suo continued.
Here began the show's antics.
Chu Zhi unpacked. Wang Yuan had prepared many items, but after inspection only clean clothes, grooming items, and two books remained.
"Congratulations, you passed the first test," Wang Suo announced as he pinned the star.
"With this badge, staff will let you through. Enjoy your stay."
"If you give me more money, I'll enjoy it more," Chu Zhi joked.
"Discussing payment is not allowed," Wang Suo replied, playful dismissal.
Chu Zhi wheeled his bag into the annex. Staff and his team stayed in the main building—separate by design.
They hitched an impromptu renaming stunt. The annex's sign, "Jozankei Charlit," was covered and a new "Star Wing" sign posted.
This was a new wing built to meet overflow demand. Instead of expanding, they built next door.
"Can't use the elevator either?" Chu Zhi asked jokingly, thumbing up at the cameraman. "When there is oppression, there will be resistance."
A sign read temporarily out of service. Use the light corridor. Cue frustrated sigh. Three floors via stairs it was.
Despite not exercising often, Chu Zhi easily carried his suitcase upstairs. Corridor walls sported acrylic panels awaiting decoration.
On the third floor someone asked, "What's the name for registration?"
"Commander Chu Xiao Zhi reporting!" Chu Zhi replied, adding a tiny twist.
"Chu Xiao Zhi? I thought your sign said Chu Zhi," Min Zhengpei frowned.
"I added the 'Xiao' for rhyme effect. Like 'Changshan Zhao Zilong' or 'Jiuyuan Lv Fengxian.'" Chu Zhi explained.
Min froze. That explanation… odd but effective.
"So I'll be General Min Zhengpei, no, of Changzhou," Min playfully followed suit.
"Your looks make me step back, General Min," Chu Zhi complimented.
"Oh please, nothing compares to General Chu." Min raised an eyebrow, evidently amused.
Male bonding can feel strangely childish.
When Min spoke, his eyebrows were expressive—animated during excitement, furrowed in thought. They seemed like little characters conveying every emotion.