At the Summer Supersonic Music Festival in Osaka, besides Chu Zhi, there were several Chinese stars performing. After all, it was one of the three major music festivals in Japan. Many international singers and bands were invited, including the internationally famous rock band, Junger Quark.
The three members of Junger Quark were Wiener, Wolfgang, and Joachim.
Why such a strange band name? Because the three of them were classmates at the Physics Department of the University of Munich.
They met in the university guitar club and were all top students. Joachim even won the top physics scholarship in the department and received a knighthood medal.
After graduation, they didn't follow the career paths their parents planned. Instead, they discussed and formed a band.
Academic prodigies playing music? Surprisingly, they shook the industry. Junger Quark became one of the most famous rock bands in Germany.
"Should we try to get their autograph too? Junger Quark—I used to love them. Now I love Phoenix Fire even more," Yang Ziquan said.
"Do you even have space to get close for a signature?" Zhou Yiyu replied. His words were sharp, but he wasn't targeting Yang Ziquan; he was annoyed that Junger Quark was surrounded by many celebrity guests.
Zhou Yiyu was used to being the center of attention. His mindset was "I am the one everyone looks at." But he also knew his limits. Junger Quark's international fame surpassed anything he could hope for in his lifetime. His anger was therefore powerless.
Yang Ziquan, although she debuted in 2006 on Super Girl, had developed very well. She quickly found her own path. In 2013, she became the Chinese-French cultural ambassador and performed at a French state banquet.
To add, she was also an academic achiever, graduating from Fudan University's French department. She translated a French novel while pursuing music. Later, after starting her own talent agency, she had no time to continue translating.
"They even arranged translators specifically for Junger Quark. They really know how to cater to Western guests," Zhou Yiyu muttered.
All things considered, Yang Ziquan surpassed Zhou Yiyu in talent and experience. Their relationship was not at the friend level, so she felt offended and stopped talking to him.
"Box-box, you like heavy metal, right? Aren't you going to join the fun?" Zhou Yiyu glanced at Leng He, who looked as nervous as a quail.
"Junger Quark is not heavy metal!" Leng He responded firmly.
Zhou Yiyu said, "A world-famous heavy metal rock band, and now it's not a rock band in your words?"
"Whether the metal vibe is authentic has nothing to do with fame," Leng He explained.
"Oh," Zhou Yiyu replied loudly, his tone dripping with mockery.
Immediately, the three Chinese singers felt a chill in the air. Zhou Yiyu didn't care—he was the most popular among the three.
"Big brother should wait. King does not meet king," Zhou Yiyu muttered as he observed Junger Quark still surrounded by fans. His own abilities were not fully grown yet; even if he went over, Junger Quark would overshadow him.
The only one Junger Quark recognized as "big brother" in this way, besides Chu Zhi, was no one else.
As he spoke, a commotion erupted nearby. Looking out, he saw another cluster of fans wrapped in three layers of people from the festival staff and guests.
"Rong-san, I'm your follower!"
"I love you, I really love you!"
"Who has pen and paper?"
"What a surprise, seeing both Junger Quark and Chu-san together!"
The noise was no less than the crowd around Junger Quark.
"Who's coming?" Wiener, Junger Quark's lead singer, asked curiously.
Joachim and Wolfgang turned their eyes toward the source of the noise and saw a familiar figure.
"It's Chu Zhi," Wolfgang said. His glasses gave him the sharpest vision among the three.
"The Chinese singer who conquered Germany," Wiener recalled WOA night, the memory dominated by horse hooves.
"That's him. I remember the song Praise of the Tess River. You can't even find it on Spotify," Wolfgang added. He remembered getting up and spinning while listening to it.
"I personally prefer Bohemian Rhapsody. The talent is extraordinary. His English album also has a few excellent works," Joachim said. He was the band's primary songwriter.
As the three whispered among themselves, they signed all nearby autographs and then walked toward Chu Zhi, the other artists clearing the hallway.
Was this the king meeting the king?
"Chu-san, nice to meet you again. Will you perform Praise of the Tess River at this festival?" Wolfgang greeted first.
"Never thought we could perform at the same festival again," Wiener said. "Too bad the seven-person band isn't here. They would be ecstatic."
The anti-Chinese obsessive seven-person band—all Chu Zhi's loyal fans—would never forgive missing this…
Joachim added, "Performing Bohemian Rhapsody would also be great."
Wait, was it Junger Quark or Quark Youth? Chu Zhi hesitated for a moment but it didn't matter. He said, "I'm happy to perform together again."
"But you might be disappointed. I'll be performing Japanese songs today," Chu Zhi said.
"Japanese songs? Chu-san knows Japanese?" Wiener asked. "Well, that's normal. Japanese is a simple language."
Wolfgang added, "It is simple. You can learn it in just over a month. It's as simple as English, though slightly harder than French."
The Emperor Beast felt as if he had walked into a foreign language academy. What was going on? Brothers were all pretending now?
Chu Zhi quickly said, "French is difficult. I studied for some time before I could use it in daily conversation."
A friendly exchange between academic achievers.
Everyone expected a tense king-to-king encounter, but the atmosphere was surprisingly harmonious. Relief mixed with slight disappointment—no fight broke out.
"From the posters, I knew Summer Supersonic invited Chu Zhi very heavily. Didn't expect him to arrive at the Osaka station, the first stop," Yang Ziquan said. She had heard about Chu Zhi's outrageous popularity in Japan and Korea, and today she saw it firsthand.
The logistics staff immediately dropped their tasks and rushed over for autographs.
"Singers you'd only see on TV in Japan all wanted photos with Jiu-yé. The idol of idols," Leng He thought, imagining that if one day he had such fame, he would willingly shorten his life by five years and… well, other sacrifices, just to make a gesture.
"Don't blame the path for the person. No matter where big brother is, he's still big brother," Zhou Yiyu said, surprised that Chu Zhi was so well received even in Europe and America.
Photos and autographs finished, taking about twenty minutes.
At large events, people seek out familiar faces, or at least someone with common topics. Essentially, it was no different from picking friends on a school trip.
At Chu Zhi's level in the entertainment industry, almost everyone around him was kind. Chu Zhi smoothly interacted with Leng He, Yang Ziquan, and Zhou Yiyu.
From Yang Ziquan's perspective, even though Chu Zhi was far more famous than Zhou Yiyu, he treated people with calmness and no arrogance.
By the way, Zhou Yiyu repeatedly called "brother Jiu."
The festival was held on an artificial island, Maishima Sports Island, built by land reclamation in Japan. Two main stages and a small stage were set up. It was far less grand than Tokyo, and basic facilities were limited. There were barely any vending machines. Outdoors in Osaka's summer weather, even mosquitoes feasted generously.
This lack of infrastructure affected fans and invited guests alike. Dressing rooms for artists were arranged by nationality rather than properly.
This system was unscientific because many singers carried performance outfits. Dividing by nationality meant mixed genders, so changing clothes without privacy turned the scene into a makeshift model backstage.
The same issue had occurred at the Hokkaido music festival.
Of the thirty to forty singers present, only three had private dressing rooms: Chu Zhi, Ebina Kai, and Annie Phillip.
Ebina Kai had been in a band with Higuchi Hanato. He was the lead singer. After going solo, he mainly wrote songs as a producer. His status justified a single room.
Annie Phillip, one of the three American mini divas, small at 1.5 meters but full of energy, was comparable to the previously overwhelmed Ghibaldi. With her famous father, a private room made sense.
Emperor Beast liked to win hearts through small details. He noticed subtle things, like Yang Ziquan's casual outfit and the large bag she carried. He immediately guessed she would need to change into a performance outfit, so he proactively offered his empty private room as a temporary dressing space, ostensibly under the pretense of "Chinese people should stick together." Naturally, Yang Ziquan could use it to change comfortably.
Shortly after 1 PM, thirty thousand spectators began entering the festival. In the crowd, there were two special groups of fans. First, the "frontline team" sent by Ōmori Gento. Chu Zhi had mentioned he would perform a Japanese song as his lead single, so they needed to observe audience feedback. The team leader was the planning department head.
The second group, identifiable by their voices, muttered among themselves, "Cowards, they dare not face me directly, only scurrying forward like mice, complete cowards…"
This group was led by Ojima Matsushika and composed of over a hundred Ragdoll fans. They were part of the overseas fan support organization's Japan branch. Ojima, a small-time coordinator, had used his financial resources to secure over a hundred tickets for the event.
"Section chief Ojima, we better move now, or we won't get a good spot," someone reminded.
Hearing this, Ojima ignored the audacious spectators and hurried forward. If this was going to be the last time seeing their idol, they needed the best position.
Music festivals rarely had clear zones, so getting to the front meant the best view.
Why the "last time"? It wasn't that Ojima planned to end his life after fulfilling a wish. Suicide would only hurt his mother and embarrass his father. He simply planned to abandon hope, no longer expecting anything.
Hope was too heavy. So heavy it left Ojima battered. Perhaps if he stopped thinking about it, things would feel lighter.
An hour of rushing later, at exactly 2 PM, Summer Supersonic officially began. The cheers of the crowd were deafening, a mixture of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and English forming a shared scream.
Talking with companions required shouting; that was the festival atmosphere.
The festival had three stages: two large—[Renjian Qingshan] and [Uto Congcong]—and one small—[Oni ni Kanabo]. Because the stages were far apart, moving between them was difficult.
[Renjian Qingshan] attracted the largest crowd, as Chu Zhi performed there.
Don't think the small stage [Oni ni Kanabo] had no audience. The performers there were popular local and underground idols with dedicated fans.
The first performer on the Qingshan stage was a Japanese singer named Mantō. He claimed his music was like knives stabbing society, but if you expected deep meaning, you'd be wrong. His music was mostly electronic dance, suited for festivals, keeping the audience bouncing through four continuous tracks. The style resembled South Korean boy-group dance songs.
There were no screens in the backstage dressing rooms, so guests had to go to the hallway exits to watch the stage. Many artists gathered there, conveniently close to the backstage. The audience also focused on the stage.
Performances lasted roughly thirty minutes, similar to Strawberry Music Festival, about four songs per guest.
"Average, style is repetitive," Ebina Kai muttered as he watched from the corridor.
"Not bad, singing needs improvement," another commented.
"Average, if the fourth song had no mistake, it would be better," someone else added.
Ebina Kai rated quietly, using his own voice for assessment. This was his habit as a music supervisor.
A performer didn't have to sing perfectly. For instance, the band Wenle's Hunters of Cakes, five people on stage shouting and glaring in anger, often off-key, yet their energy was infectious. Guitar and bass solos were highlights, igniting the crowd.
Hard rock demanded emotional output, so pitch errors weren't the only measure of a performance. Chu Zhi applauded the effort.
Ebina Kai's view was stricter. His evaluations ranged from "poor to medium, unable to reach basic pitch," using his grading scale of poor, poor-medium, medium-poor, medium, medium-good…
Zhou Yiyu and Leng He also performed, receiving "medium-good" and "medium-poor" ratings.
"Practice mixed voice more. Don't squeeze high notes with your throat; it's harmful," Chu Zhi advised Zhou Yiyu.
"Okay, no problem, I got it," Zhou Yiyu replied, nodding. Hearing advice was one thing; applying it was another. For now, he felt his body could handle the performance.
Physical singing ability didn't come automatically, but Zhou Yiyu's performance was solid, capable of handling five sets, though his voice lacked smoothness.
To balance the main stages, Hollywood mini-diva Annie Phillip performed on [Uto Congcong], along with invited Japanese girl idol groups.
Around 6 PM, the second heavyweight performer, Chu Zhi, was ready.
He changed into his custom "Fish Scale Outfit" from the Muci Hot brand, hand-sewn rhinestone scales covering the entire suit, making him shine.
Why not wear it earlier? Such elaborate clothing was impractical for casual wear.
"I've never heard of Muci Hot, but the outfit is impressive. I wonder if they have women's designs," Yang Ziquan said, judging it from a performer's perspective.
"This is brother Jiu's own brand, not yet released," Zhou Yiyu quickly replied.
Yang Ziquan nodded and thanked him.
Chu Zhi's stage arrival drew many guests who hadn't been watching at the corridor entrance, like Ebina Kai. Even Junger Quark couldn't watch the previous stage and now gathered near the entrance.
"We've waited so long," Wiener said. "I wonder if Chu-san will be as stunning live again."
"Japanese songs…" Wolfgang muttered, disliking Japanese, expecting it to sound strange.
Joachim stayed silent, quietly enjoying.
Chu Zhi stepped on stage, and the cheers were overwhelming, lasting over a minute before calming slightly under his presence.
"Holy crap? Male mermaid, this fish," a Chinese Little Fruits fan couldn't help swearing.
"Where can I buy Rong-san's stage outfit? Always so unique," Ojima said. He had the right to comment; he had been to Strawberry Festival and Yoyogi Arena.
Of course, Ojima cared more about the singing than the outfit.
Chu Zhi started with three old songs: "Mune ga Dokidoki", "Lemon", and "Butter-Fly", all familiar to the audience, who sang along enthusiastically.
"Mune ga Dokidoki" was Japanese rock, leaving audience arms tired from waving.
"Lemon" was soft and melancholic, expressing longing.
"Butter-Fly" was rock and high-energy, creating a sky-reaching atmosphere.
After the three songs, Chu Zhi returned backstage, grabbed his black thermos, and drank deeply.
The Wine Immortal skill activated.
"Next is a new song, 'Do Not Give Up'. I hope none of us give up," Chu Zhi announced with spirit.
Since stepping on stage, the "Crowd Freak Buff" had been attached, plus two passive skills and an active emotional buff. Chu Zhi reached 90% of Angelic Gospel mode.
He intended for this performance to become a classic.
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If you forget about 熔 (Róng) it have meaning ("to melt"). In earlier chapter I write it as "Melty", it was Chu Zhi nickname in Japan before Ragdoll come.