"Everyone, everyone, this could end up hurting Ragdoll.
Please calm down. None of you want to see Ragdoll get hurt, do you?"
The words came from Fujimoto Shoki, the head of on-site security. His company was in charge of Sony Music's event at the New Yoyogi Arena. Based on a popularity survey, they had already prepared for a possible "zombie siege" situation.
Fujimoto Shoki spoke in both Japanese and Chinese, his voice amplified through a loudspeaker, cutting through the chaos. Hearing him, many fans had their feverish excitement tempered with reason. The rushing tide of people, ready to tear down barriers just to get closer, suddenly froze in place.
Whether they were Japanese fans, Chinese fans, men or women, no one wanted their idol to get hurt.
Of course, only a portion managed to come back to their senses. Most of the crowd still burned with the desire to get closer to their idol.
"If a stampede accident happens, the event will be canceled immediately. So once again, I ask everyone to maintain proper order," Fujimoto Shoki pressed on while he had their attention.
Canceled? That meant Chu Zhi would return to China. The Japanese fans quickly began to step back, the wave of people losing momentum and pressure as some withdrew.
Fujimoto Shoki let out a long breath of relief. Thank goodness his company had anticipated the frenzy surrounding this Chinese star. Thank goodness they'd hired enough security. Thank goodness he had a loudspeaker on hand. Otherwise… his scalp tingled at the thought.
Damn it, such a good situation ruined by troublemakers.
Weekly Bunshun, Weekly Asahi, Friday, Josei Jishin, AERA—famous magazine reporters were already rushing to set up their cameras outside the arena.
At this moment, they were all blaming Fujimoto Shoki in unison.
Seeing the fans settle, Chu Zhi finally continued forward. Luckily, he didn't need to step in and control the crowd himself.
Inside the arena, Emperor Beast's eyes were immediately drawn to three massive posters, each over two meters long, hanging in midair:
[The Idol of Two Billion Asians]
[Debut Japanese Album MV Casting Plan]
[The Entertainment Industry's Unparalleled Treasure]
Everywhere he looked, there were life-size standees. The entire setup gave off a festival vibe, almost like an Orange Grove celebration.
The eight female contestants caught sight of Chu Zhi and their excitement exploded. Not all of them were hardcore Ragdoll fans, but even those who weren't could barely contain their thrill. To girls chasing dreams, just being in the same space as Chu Zhi was enough to make their hearts race.
"I've never seen a flower boy better looking than Ragdoll."
"What are you saying? That's blasphemy. Sure, men can be cat-type, dog-type, fox-type, rabbit-type and all sorts of things, but in terms of looks, no one can beat Rong Sang."
"Teng Jingi, Professor Baek, Su Shiyi—every role played by Chu-dono is my husband. And in real life, with that little bell around his neck, Chu-dono is unbearably tempting."
"Isn't it natural for Ragdoll to wear a bell?"
Airi, Marina, Kayoko, and the others whispered endlessly, stuck in the corner where the staff had told them to wait. They weren't allowed to move, so all they could do was watch.
"Do you girls need a touch-up?" The on-site supervisor came over and asked. All eight shook their heads. They'd prepared their makeup and outfits ahead of time, unwilling to risk leaving it to unknown stylists.
"You're all full of energy. Before the show starts, there will be a group runway walk. The order is…"
From the way the supervisor spoke, it was clear there had been no rehearsal. Understandable—after all, the organizers had only rented the Yoyogi Arena for a single day. Most of that time was spent on setup, leaving no extra for contestant practice.
Sony Music had a habit of being stingy where money really needed to be spent. Maybe it was a Sony thing, maybe just a Japanese tradition.
A stray thought drifted into Chu Zhi's mind. If you support your favorite girl idol, then go after her idol… isn't that a whole other dimension of NTR?
Chu Zhi sat in a special observation seat, a gilded single sofa right at the edge of the stage.
Beside him were three black executive chairs for the judges: Sony Music Executive Director Ōmori Gento, Section Chief of Song Planning, and musician Nishikura Daisuke.
Those without notable names weren't worth introducing. But Nishikura Daisuke was famous in Japan, a musician and voice actor, once a friend of Koguchi Yoshihiro.
Once. Anyone familiar with the notorious vanity of Koguchi Yoshihiro could guess why. Nishikura had been handsome in his youth, but age had been unkind, and the friendship fell apart.
How much bad karma had Koguchi Yoshihiro sown? First Higuchi, now Nishikura. But unlike Higuchi, who despised Chu Zhi in the China-Korea-Japan joint concert, Nishikura seemed overly warm to him. Almost obsequious.
Emperor Beast was no rookie. He could tell Nishikura's fawning wasn't just the usual clout-chasing. The man clearly had another motive, though what it was remained unclear.
While the judges chatted, the audience filed in.
Chu Zhi found it strange that an MV casting even needed a live audience. But apparently it was standard.
Ōmori Gento had made the event grand, even if no TV stations were involved. Yahoo and Niconico reporters were invited, so of course tickets had to be sold to recoup costs.
The Yoyogi Arena could hold 13,000, but they hadn't sold anywhere near that number. The stage and audio setup simply couldn't handle a full house. Only 1,800 seats were available inside.
Fans familiar with concerts knew this setup well. In gymnasium shows, "floor seats" were chairs placed on the ground close to the stage, while the built-in arena seating farther away was called "outer seats," usually cheaper.
With people filling the venue, shouts filled the air:
"If I don't hear Airi's voice today, I'll lose my mind!"
"So sad, I can only see Ragdoll's back."
"Even his back looks amazing!"
"Marina smiled at me!"
"That's my wife. My wife!"
"The real brave man loves what has value," muttered Ojima Matsushika, grinning slyly to himself. "What's the point of liking women? If you want to like someone, it should be brother Jiu."
The seats were divided into VIP, regular reserved, and obstructed-view reserved.
The obstructed seats were cheaper, but you couldn't see the full stage.
Ojima Matsushika, of course, had bought VIP—seat 25 in the very front row. Glow stick in hand, Anta sneakers on his feet, and a Kenzo long-sleeved shirt on his back, he looked every inch the hardcore Ragdoll fan.
Both Anta and Kenzo were Chu Zhi's endorsed brands. Ojima Matsushika had even gone through extra effort to buy the Anta [Signature "Izumo"] edition.
Anta Sports' annual report had shown record numbers last year, over 50 billion RMB in revenue, with 8.57 billion RMB in net profit—three times Adidas. The undisputed leader of sports brands in China.
Chu Zhi's bold defiance had nearly crippled Adidas. Chinese brands reaped the benefits, with Anta profiting most. No wonder they could afford to pay him 18 million USD per year as their Asia spokesperson.
The only problem was distribution—Anta's channels couldn't keep up with demand across Asia.
At 4:00 p.m. Tokyo time, the event officially began.
The casting criteria were based on "charm." Contestants could sing, dance, perform skits, or even just do a runway walk. Each had 15 minutes to showcase their appeal.
First up was Watanabe Kayoko. She wore a body-hugging cheongsam that clung tightly at the hips, her curves mesmerizing the crowd.
Her dance moves weren't perfectly executed, but no one cared—the figure was more than enough.
"Oh? Watanabe-san, what's the story behind this outfit?" asked Ōmori Gento. "As a performance costume, it fails. The restrictive design limits your movement. I can only give your dance three points. Without this outfit, I believe you could have earned five."
"And what's the full score, Omori-san?" Chu Zhi asked curiously.
"I usually use a twelve-point system at the company," Omori replied.
Breathless from her performance, Kayoko hurried to answer, "This is cosplay of Li Kongxi, the heroine from the Chinese anime Zodiac War God."
Chinese anime? Omori's mind clicked instantly. He turned his head and asked, "That wouldn't happen to be an anime Chu-san likes, would it?"
Chu Zhi barely remembered the title. But seeing Kayoko's nervous expression, Emperor Beast smiled. "Watanabe-san put a lot of effort into this. The resemblance is very good."
"Yes, yes." Kayoko nodded like a quail. "Li Kongxi is a very charming character."
"You are like the chrysanthemum and the moon above West Lake—serenity with beauty, like the bright moon shining over still waters," Nishikura Daisuke praised. "As for your dance, if your downward hand movements were sharper, the structure would flow better."
"Nishikura-san is right," the Section Chief agreed.
Kayoko's final score was 17. Nishikura had given only two points.
The total was 21. Nishikura, Omori, and the Section Chief had five points each. Chu Zhi held six, clearly positioned as the key figure.
"What's Zodiac War God? I want to check it out."
"Has it been imported here yet?"
"Maybe it's on Niconico or Netflix?"
The audience whispered to each other.
Being a star meant constant caution. Every stray comment from an interview could be dug up later, not just by haters, but by fans eager to know everything.
Emperor Beast racked his brain and finally recalled that "Zodiac War God" had been something his original self once casually mentioned during a behind-the-scenes interview for The Coming One.
The next two contestants earned lower scores than Kayoko.
Back in the waiting zone, Kayoko tugged at her dress nervously. Thankfully, the cheongsam's material held strong.
Popular contestants drew cheers from their fans. But compared to the chaos outside, the noise inside the arena was much more subdued. After all, there were only 1,800 tickets—and most of them had gone to Ragdoll's loyal fans.
When Airi stepped onto the stage during the mid-competition break, the moment she opened her mouth it was clear she had worked hard. She had chosen to sing Fireworks Easily Cold, which surprised Chu Zhi a little.
"Does Airi-san know Chinese?" Chu Zhi asked.
"Just a little, I'm still learning," said Airi with her twin tails swaying as she spoke. She poked at the air with her fingertips, eyes narrowing into an energetic and playful expression, every gesture radiating cuteness.
It was strange. Her singing in Chinese was very accurate, yet when she spoke her accent was heavy.
"Chinese is very difficult, isn't it? I studied Chinese as well. Learning a foreign language is very helpful for an idol's career. For details, you can ask Chu-san." Omori Genjin chimed in.
Every time Omori Genjin spoke, he would find a way to cue Chu Zhi. He understood perfectly why the audience was here. The viewers were already being forced to watch the backs of the performers. If the key figure didn't speak often, the audience might demand a refund.
"Chrysanthemums and phoenixes spreading their wings, petals stretching outward, from afar it looks like a phoenix shaking its feathers. That is the feeling your stage gave me. Very good," Nishikura Daisuke commented. "However, if you could pay more attention to your breathing while singing, it would be even better."
"Nishikura-san is right," the head of the planning division added.
The score came to eighteen. Nishikura Daisuke still only gave her 2 points, but Airi had surpassed Kayoko and now held the highest score.
Fifth place: 15 points.
Sixth place: 16 points.
Seventh place: 18 points.
"Just one more and I'll win!" Airi said breathlessly in the waiting area. She fixed her gaze on the final contestant, Isayama Marina, her eyes round and unblinking as though she could intimidate her opponent into making mistakes.
Marina's ambition was clear. She had chosen two dance tracks, aiming for a sensual song-and-dance performance. Wearing a high school uniform, every movement of hers was flirtatious. The choreography was reminiscent of South Korean girl group dances, and countless eyes in the audience were glued to her.
If she had maintained her performance, she could have easily won the highest score of the night. But, as fate would have it, an accident happened. Perhaps because of nerves, during her second song Marina slipped up.
It was over. Finished. Marina stood frozen in the center of the stage. The instant her foot slipped, she knew she had lost.
"You're better than me. I can't even dance at all right now," Chu Zhi offered comfort. "You'll definitely attract many fans online."
"What a shame. Your ability in singing and dancing is enough to debut as an idol directly," Omori Genjin said.
"Your performance reminded me of chrysanthemums and green peonies, petals fine as silk, fresh and full of youth. I liked it very much," Nishikura Daisuke said. "But perhaps you need more practice and preparation to truly perfect it."
"Nishikura-san is right," the planning head agreed.
The Emperor Beast noticed that Nishikura Daisuke's compliments were always poetic, yet his scoring was the harshest. Take Marina, for example. He only gave her 1 point.
Marina lost by just two points. Airi won the position of lead girl in the music video.
Golden confetti and streamers fell across the stage. The lighting, however, wasn't very sophisticated, and to Chu Zhi the whole celebration felt a little cheap.
But Airi was overjoyed, jumping and bouncing with excitement.
The losers were heartbroken. Some even cried, like Kayoko, who had only lost by a single point.
It was like barely failing an exam by one mark, with regret and sorrow mixing together, accompanied by relentless self-blame.
Chu Zhi presented the award. The certificate looked rather cheaply made, stamped with the words [Winner of Preliminary Round], though the prize itself was much better: a contract. Airi would star as the lead girl in the MV with a reward of 5 million yen.
"Jiu-yé, I… I like you so much. You and your fans gave me the hope to keep living. C-could I… hug you, just once?" Airi stammered, each word heavy with courage.
Chu Zhi nodded, and the moment he did, Airi leapt into his arms like a rabbit rushing to its shelter.
But Airi's journey had been painful. When her parents had gone to school to address an incident, the outcome shocked her. Not only was the teacher involved never punished, but she was interrogated repeatedly about the details.
The school practically accused her of making up stories to frame the teacher just because her grades were poor. Some people at school believed her, but many others sided with the rumors. The flood of conflicting voices crushed her spirit.
Her parents arranged a transfer, yet even in the new school the nightmare clung to her like a parasite that couldn't be shaken off.
Her grades plummeted.
Her friendships never took root.
"Why? Why am I being punished when I've done nothing wrong?" Airi often asked herself, waking from nightmares.
Though she appeared lively and cheerful, it was only an act for her fans. She had become an idol to inspire others, believing that if she could lift someone else up, she might heal herself as well.
When she was on the verge of collapse, the song MY ALL gave her the strength to carry on. That was why she could sing in Chinese.
The hug lasted three seconds before Airi let go and walked off the stage.
In her heart, she softly sang the words that had always supported her:
🎵 To be honest, I too have endured nights of pain, days when emotions refused to settle. But no matter when, I was never truly alone. Your smile always appeared before my eyes, so sweet, so radiant… 🎵
She had long since memorized the lyrics. To her, the "smile" in the song was the joy of her fans who felt happiness because of her.
Now the stage belonged to Chu Zhi. This was the moment the ticket-holding audience had been waiting for with breathless anticipation.
The arena erupted in screams and shouts. Just standing on stage, the atmosphere already boiled like scalding water, the cheers rising like white steam.
"My song is called Easily Flammable, Easily Explosive. It's a brand new track," Chu Zhi said. "I'll be performing in a new style. I hope you'll like it."
Before an audience of eighteen hundred, along with all the staff, the conditions easily triggered his passive skill [High on Crowds].
Chu Zhi gripped the microphone and felt wonderful.
The accompaniment began. The opening melody was heavy, with violins sounding like a traveler wading through a dark forest stream.
🎵 They hope for my madness, yet hope I cannot live alone. They want me cold and untouchable, yet wild and unrestrained. They want me radiant like the sun, yet charming without wavering. 🎵
🎵 They play with my sorrow and laughter, as though I am rootless. They grant me dreams, only to wake me swiftly. They sleep beside me, yet let me wither without mercy. 🎵
His voice carried fifty percent of its charm. Chu Zhi sat at the edge of the stage, one leg dangling into the air, the other bent to support his arm. His palm propped up his face as he sang.
The opening notes were like a drowsy whisper, a half-dream, half-drunken murmur. He held the microphone as though it were a glass of red wine.
🎵 They love me pure, they love me bare, not decadent. They watch me play and sing, then watch me break with grief. 🎵
As he sang, Chu Zhi tilted the microphone, as though spilling wine from a glass across the floor.
Tch. This man is seducing me.
Marina, who had just lost the competition, had felt as though even a thousand tons of sweets couldn't console her. Yet…
She didn't understand the lyrics, but the voice alone acted as a catalyst. She felt herself drifting, her tears still visible on her cheeks.
🎵 They wish me like smoke, wish me graceful and languid. They see me mad, then see me witty and dignified. 🎵
🎵 They want me beautiful, they want me cold-faced and unblinking. They wish me happiness, then wish me to wither and perish. 🎵
The whispers ended. Chu Zhi rose, his voice cutting through the haze like a man sobering from drunkenness.
In that instant, the arena fell into perfect silence.
Kayoko felt as though a feather brushed against her ear. Losing by one point, regretting her dance practice—none of it mattered anymore. Her mind turned to mush, and in that mush, only Chu Zhi's image remained.
🎵 They find me intoxicating, my eyes stealing their breath. They crave my sincerity, my gaze enchanting their souls. 🎵
🎵 They run away with me, yet refuse to betray. They praise me budding, they praise me overflowing with desire. 🎵
Even the Japanese who couldn't understand Chinese were entranced. Imagine what the Chinese-speaking audience felt.
Run away with me! Unswerving loyalty!
Many female fans found their breathing growing erratic, staring at their idol's face.
🎵 They grant me dreams, only to wake me swiftly. They sleep beside me, yet let me wither without mercy. 🎵
🎵 They love me pure, they love me bare, not decadent. They watch me play and sing, then watch me break with grief. 🎵
Even rational fans like Airi, who had just won, found herself shaken. She had always believed she wasn't a fan because of Chu Zhi's looks. But at this moment, his singing was far too intoxicating.
The lyrics were too alluring. To Airi, it felt as though this man wanted to marry her.
🎵 They find me intoxicating, my eyes stealing their breath. They crave my sincerity, my gaze enchanting their souls. 🎵
🎵 They elope with me, yet refuse to betray. They praise me budding, they praise me overflowing with desire. 🎵
The female fans couldn't resist. The male fans couldn't either. No, not just the fans—everyone was struggling. Nishikura Daisuke suddenly understood Koguchi Yoshihiro a little better.
He had originally wanted to "steal" Chu Zhi away from Koguchi Yoshihiro, to befriend him, to stir things up. But now…
🎵 They invite me charming, they invite me burning with passion. They see me blooming, they see me restless and suffocating. 🎵
🎵 They call me beautiful, they call me addicted to desire. They curse me with carefree years, yet curse me to tears. 🎵
Excitement can constrict blood vessels, disrupting brain circulation and oxygen supply, leading to fainting. Just like at Michael Jackson's concerts, where fans often collapsed from being too overwhelmed.
At this moment, several fans in the audience fainted too…
===
In this chapter author write 楚殿 (Chǔ diàn)
殿 (diàn) = (どの - -dono)
どの (dono), which is a very formal and respectful honorific. Historically, it was used to address lords, masters, or people of very high status in a hierarchical setting (like a samurai addressing his daimyo). In modern, everyday Japanese, it's almost never used in spoken conversation and is mostly found in very formal letters, certificates, or legal documents.
In this context, Japanese fans use "どの" (dono) just like Chinese fans use "爷" (-yé). But it gives a slightly different "flavor":
Chu-dono (楚殿): Has a more formal, majestic, and almost knightly feel. It sounds like pledging fealty to a noble lord. This fits perfectly with the Japanese fans' context described in the novel, where the behavior is more like rapturous admiration.
Chu-yé (楚爷): Has a more bold, cheeky, and powerful feel. "爷" carries a connotation of swagger, authority, and undeniable dominance. This is very common in Chinese fan spaces to describe a idol who is seen as supremely talented, charismatic, and dominant in their field.
-
"烟花易冷" (Fireworks Easily Cold) by 周杰伦 (Jay Chou)
"MY ALL" by 浜崎あゆみ (Ayumi Hamasaki)