Perhaps because it was nighttime, the fans waiting there hadn't realized that Chu Lian had already arrived. They continued to stand expectantly in the airport waiting hall, their eyes fixed on the exit.
These people represented a portion of Chu Lian's fanbase in North America—essentially acting as the region's representatives to meet her in person.
Ordinarily, for someone like Chu Lian—a newly debuted girl from Huaxia—it shouldn't have been possible to have such influence that people from another continent, another culture, would grow fond of her so quickly.
After all, this wasn't an area within Huaxia's cultural sphere of influence. Unlike the surrounding nations of East Asia, which had long interacted with Huaxia and naturally adapted to its trends, the Western world remained largely insulated from its pop culture.
In Huaxia's neighboring countries, any celebrity who became a sensation back home could easily attract fans abroad. They didn't see Huaxia's stars as "foreign" at all—rather, they admired them as if they were their own.
Therefore, the only foreigners who might recognize Chu Lian should have been those from nearby countries, especially from Japan, which was now closely tied to Huaxia. Beyond that, there shouldn't have been many.
But in regions like Europe, America, and Africa, each possessed its own deep-rooted cultural atmosphere—some even rejecting foreign influences outright. Others simply lacked the means to access Huaxia's media and entertainment. While Huaxia's culture could eventually reach these places, it would normally take time.
It was almost impossible for a phenomenon that had just exploded across Huaxia to be instantly embraced by people on the other side of the ocean.
No matter how fast information spread, the barriers of time, geography, and national consciousness could not be so easily crossed.
That was why Chu Lian had been so surprised when she saw so many foreign fans waiting for her.
If this had happened in her homeland, it wouldn't have been so strange. She knew that this world was different from her previous one—Huaxia's prosperity here had drawn far more foreigners to its borders.
In her previous world, there had been countless people in China yearning to go abroad, and as long as they had money, it was easy to do so.
But for foreigners to settle in China back then was a near impossibility. Getting a Huaxia household registration sometimes took decades.
That version of Huaxia had been a weaker country on the global stage—targeted by the West, encircled by neighboring nations, unable to export its culture while constantly being invaded by others.
As a result, those who grew up during the internet age suffered greatly. It created an entire generation of so-called "banana people"—those who worshipped the West while mocking and belittling their own nation.
Because of this, very few well-off foreigners were ever willing to live in China long-term, much less naturalize and become "white-skinned, yellow-hearted" foreigners.
But the Huaxia of this world was completely different. Never having declined, it had missed the Age of Exploration, true—but it had always remained among the world's leading powers.
Other nations either allied with it, avoided openly provoking it, or maintained neutral relations. No one dared to challenge it directly.
Even Western countries restrained themselves. At most, they'd mutter things like "authoritarian," "no human rights," or "tyranny"—but nothing beyond words. No one dared take actual hostile action.
With national strength came global status—and with status came the power to export culture. The love and loyalty Huaxia's citizens held for their country far surpassed that of any other nation. As they embraced and adapted foreign influences, they also continued to spread their own culture outward.
The relationship between Huaxia and the rest of the world was now like that between Britain and America in the previous world's cultural circles—mutually influential, borrowing from each other, yet still maintaining their own traditions and distinct identities.
While Huaxia's immigration policies remained strict, they were not draconian. It was harder to gain citizenship than to get a green card, but not impossible.
Under such circumstances, those dissatisfied with Western systems and longing for Huaxia's stability and power often chose to immigrate there—and vice versa, many within Huaxia who sought personal freedom or broader opportunities still looked toward the West as their destination, and that had become entirely normal.
Even so, Chu Lian had underestimated the reach of Huaxia's influence in this world.
What she didn't know was that the cultural impact of this Huaxia across the globe was, in fact, the mirror image of what America had been in her previous world.
This situation had arisen partly because Chu Lian had rarely paid attention to such things before. She hadn't received much related information, and even though she spent plenty of time online, her understanding of the matter was shallow at best.
After all, the confidence and pride instilled by Huaxia's global standing made its people less inclined to focus on foreign matters unless it personally interested them. They rarely went out of their way to promote or study the outside world.
The online platform Chu Lian frequented—M Station—was a gathering place for fans of ACG culture, especially anime. Expecting them to discuss America was like asking a group of traditional musicians to critique Western pop—it simply didn't happen.
Naturally, she wasn't familiar with this country's circumstances.
You might say: didn't school teach her? Sure, she had studied both Huaxia's and world history, but no one ever started lessons with "Huaxia is one of the most prosperous nations in the world." That kind of awareness came only with deeper learning—and, truthfully, it wasn't something Chu Lian was particularly interested in.
Her interests lay elsewhere, so her lack of knowledge was understandable.
Secondly, deep down, she was still influenced by her previous world and hadn't fully broken free from it. Many of her assumptions came from that worldview.
And finally, the Goddess Development Plan system had consumed nearly all her energy and attention. Between missions and training, she had little time left to truly learn about this world that was still so foreign to her.
Chu Lian herself hadn't realized this—but Ayase, who had been by her side since the very beginning and served as the system's chief steward, understood it perfectly.
That was why she had planned this travel route. On one hand, yes, there were hidden matters that needed to be dealt with along the way. But on the other, it was meant to make Chu Lian see the world with new eyes—to understand the world she was destined, under the system's guidance, to conquer.
Only by understanding something could one truly know how to face it.
No one could ever expect to force the world to accept them while also earning its gratitude and loyalty. True success required preparation, understanding, and a solid foundation.
These were the things Chu Lian had yet to grasp, though they were crucial for her future—and they wouldn't violate any of the system's restrictions. Thus, Ayase intended for Chu Lian to find her own answers along the journey.
With that unspoken mix of anticipation and unease, Chu Lian looked at the approaching fans and suddenly felt a rare nervousness rise within her. She really wasn't used to this.
Of course, the fans weren't blind. It didn't take long for someone to spot Chu Lian's group emerging from the terminal.
In an instant, excited whispers spread among them. Then, as if by signal, they all began waving the signs and items bearing her name, calling out in Chinese: "Chu Lian! Chu Lian!"
Walking through the aisle, Chu Lian looked at the fans' flushed faces as they shouted her name, their excitement raw and genuine. Her heart softened.
She stopped a short distance away, stayed silent for a moment, then smiled gently and said, "I'm a little nervous and didn't expect so many of you to come greet me, but I'm truly grateful for your support. Having you accompany me on this journey is my greatest reward."
With that, she bent slightly in a small bow—a gesture of gratitude and respect.
The fans hadn't expected such warmth from her. That sincere gesture sent a rush of emotion through the crowd. To be personally thanked by the star they admired—it was a joy beyond words.
Clap, clap, clap… "Having you is our greatest luck too!" many shouted as they applauded enthusiastically.
Then, from the front row, a brown-haired girl and a black-haired, dark-eyed boy stepped forward—they seemed to be the representatives of this welcoming group.
Standing before Chu Lian, the boy was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, Chu Lian. We managed to get hold of your study trip schedule ahead of time, so we've been preparing for days. This gathering is our way of welcoming you to this land—to this country, and this city. Oh, right, let me introduce myself. My name's Liu Changyun, a Chinese who moved here a few years ago."
As soon as Liu Changyun finished, the brown-haired girl jumped in eagerly. "Chu Lian, Chu Lian—look over here! I'm Amber Clarke, and I'm representing all your fans in the United States! We're so, so happy to welcome you here!"
Her Chinese pronunciation wasn't perfect, but it was clear she had practiced for several years—each word was understandable, even if slightly accented.
"I'm very happy to meet all of you," Chu Lian said gently, "but can we move to another place to talk? After all, this is a public area. Don't worry, I won't leave. Before I board the flight to Los Angeles tomorrow, I'll answer any questions I can."
She nodded politely. Her first impression of the refined Liu Changyun and the lively Amber Clarke was quite good, so she didn't mind cooperating with their little plan.
Still, it was already nighttime. They had just gotten off the plane, and everyone was exhausted. This wasn't exactly the best place for a proper chat.
Since this was a private, informal meeting with fans—without agents, events, media, or performances—things didn't need to be so complicated. She could simply treat it as a little fan-interaction session, a small "fan service."
Hearing Chu Lian's proposal, Liu Changyun and Amber exchanged a glance and both nodded in agreement.
After discussing briefly, Amber went off to inform the others to change locations, while Liu Changyun stayed behind to accompany Chu Lian.
"It looks like you've prepared quite thoroughly," Chu Lian said with a faint smile, noticing the cheerful fans waiting nearby. Clearly, they had already planned everything out. Her suggestion merely matched what they'd already arranged.
Liu Changyun rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "We got your schedule yesterday, so we spent the whole day discussing it. Last night, we finalized everything—who would come, what to prepare, how to greet you. We've been waiting all day for you."
Chu Lian nodded slightly, saying nothing more. Seeing that everything was ready, she turned to Inori and the others and said, "Let's go."
The girls nodded in unison. Chu Lian took the lead, Liu Changyun following a few meters behind her and the group, while the rest of the fans quietly trailed along.
The once-bustling airport lounge gradually returned to calm, as though nothing had happened at all.