Frankly, Chu Zhi wanted to show off again. Viral short-form songs were widely looked down upon within the industry, yet if given the chance to create one, at least sixty percent of professionals wouldn't turn it down.
He glanced at the trash bin nearby. It was a plain black metal mesh bin, the kind often seen in Scandinavian-style rental apartments.
"Oh, trash bin, soon you'll be the most famous trash bin in the world," Chu Zhi muttered with a smile.
If a viral hit really came from a discarded song, who wouldn't want to dig through his garbage?
He finished scribbling the simple melody, even pretended to make a few corrections, then crumpled the paper into a wrinkled ball.
["How's this one? Jotted it down while drinking iced cola."] Chu Zhi sent a picture of the page to his agent, Xiao Ma. He hadn't even filed for copyright yet. Not that he trusted her completely, but with his popularity, he wasn't worried.
["'You at 105°C' — the title alone sounds like a hit. Perfect, perfect."] Xiao Ma had Chu Zhi's messages set on high alert.
She replied instantly, although she had no idea what iced cola had to do with 105°C. It was like trying to figure out how carbonated drinks turned into distilled water. But with someone like Chu Zhi, a creative freak of nature, you simply couldn't apply normal logic.
["I'll write up a clean version tomorrow and bring it to the office."]
["No, no, don't rewrite it. I want the original crumpled vibe! Too much trouble for you, Teacher Chu."]
["Still, the trash bin's a little gross. Might be better to copy it."]
If there's even a chance it goes viral, never mind the trash bin—Xiao Ma stopped that train of thought. She was eating late-night noodles.
She quickly typed out a message:
["We'd like to use the idea of it being a 'discarded song' in our promo. If possible, could we share that line: 'How's this? Jotted it down while drinking iced cola'? Of course, if you're uncomfortable, we won't."]
Chu Zhi replied that he was fine with it, as long as they kept the post minimal and didn't reveal too much.
Xiao Ma was thrilled and promised again and again that they'd only use that line.
With that settled, Chu Zhi moved on to quickly arrange the track. The melody was simple. Though originally from a Watsons commercial, its no-barrier structure and catchy lyrics gave it all the makings of a viral hit.
Sure, maybe Watsons did push it a little, but Xiao Ma was already putting millions into it. Would she skip on marketing? Not likely—especially with their backing from Douyin.
"I'll finish this translation, then call it a night. Got a packed schedule tomorrow too," Chu Zhi muttered, calculating his remaining tasks. Just two more hours of work left.
Back in school, his relentless energy had already left his classmates in the dust. The nickname "Acting Beast" didn't come from nowhere.
The old night faded. A new morning arrived.
Well, not everything was new. Chu Zhi noticed Fei Ge was still wearing yesterday's clothes.
Among the staff, Lao Qian and Wang Yuan were the most particular about appearances. By contrast, Fei Ge clearly didn't care.
Xiao Ma arrived early, sitting in the break room shortly after nine. Chu Zhi handed over a blue folder with the wrinkled sheet music inside.
"I also threw together a basic arrangement last night. I'll email it to you later. Just make sure the vocals are a bit sweeter in tone," he added.
"Thank you, Teacher Chu." Xiao Ma bowed slightly.
Quanmei—stage name "One Punch, Two Whimpers"—was a livestreamer with over ten million followers. She didn't have the cachet of a proper celebrity, but she pulled in way more cash than Xiao Ma's two rising male idols combined.
With both Chu Zhi and Quanmei busy this close to Double Eleven, Xiao Ma didn't waste time with extra pleasantries. She left with the song and gratitude.
"Chu Ge, would you accept a direct song commission?" Niu Jiangxue asked suddenly.
"A commission?" Chu Zhi paused. It was different from selling a throwaway track. A proper commission meant writing a custom song for someone else.
Right now, his catalog included "Mixed Hits Collection," "Backlit," "Post-Adolescence Poetry," "Still Fantastic," and "Custom," totaling four full albums. He had plenty of songs to choose from.
His foundation was strong, and he could handle writing for others, but he still declined.
"I've only released one album so far. It's too early to start."
He added, "Once you open that door, you'll be flooded with requests."
Niu Jiangxue nodded. That made sense. Rejecting one or two would offend people. It was better not to accept any at all.
Think about it—Jay Chou had written around 200 songs for others. Iconic ones like "Little Love Song," "Dear," "That's Not Love," "Elimination," and "Turn Around."
"So, who tried to commission me?" Chu Zhi asked.
"Two from our company, plus a few external artists," Niu said. "I'll handle the rejections."
Chu Zhi had only been back in the scene for about a year, with one album out. That three artists already wanted to commission songs from him only proved how successful his strategy had been.
His appearance on "I Am a Singer-Songwriter" had solidified his reputation as a true creative.
Between one task and the next, the long-awaited premiere of iQIYI's new reality show finally arrived.
iQIYI had begun promotions a week earlier. Their ads were everywhere—online, in elevators, even co-branded with Meituan.
Meituan ran a campaign: reserve "Journey Among the Stars" in advance and receive a 3-yuan voucher. It was the kind of marketing movie studios dreamed of.
Add in a cast including Chu Zhi, Cai Jia, and Min Jeongbae—mostly thanks to Chu Zhi—and the show was a hit before it even aired.
It wasn't just popular. It was on fire.
Before the premiere, the Weibo hashtag #星的旅途# had already passed 100,000 discussions.
It was Chu Zhi's first reality show appearance. His fans, the Little Fruits, were practically vibrating with anticipation. Even the busiest mom-fans carved out time for it.
"What is Chu Zhi's influence? Same as on 'Singer-Songwriter.' Every show he's on, VIP subs skyrocket," said Director Che Lun, proudly reading the report.
"I've cracked the ratings code," he bragged.
The code? It was Chu Zhi.
He had already told the editors to feature Chu Zhi as much as possible.
At 8:30, the episode went live.
"I'm here for Jiuye!",
"A-Jiu first place!",
"Finally get to see A-Jiu again!",
"Been waiting forever!"
flooded the screen as bullet comments poured in.
Little Fruits dominated the feed. The other guests had fans too, sure, but their numbers were nothing compared to Chu Zhi's wave.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think the show only had one star.
The episode began with the cast checking into the dormitory and showing their luggage. First Min Jeongbae, then Chu Zhi.
One sharp-eyed viewer pointed something out:
"Why did they take away Jiuye's thermos?",
"He needs alcohol for his condition!",
"Didn't the production team do their homework?",
"Why doesn't he have any medication? Is it with the assistant?"
and so on.
Never underestimate fans. As more and more noticed the missing meds, the tension skyrocketed—even though the show had barely begun.