Lautém County's capital, São Paulo, was where Alves lived. If you wanted to be polite, you'd say the city had plenty of greenery. If you didn't, you'd admit that even for a county capital, development was shaky, and a lot of the roads between districts were still muddy dirt tracks.
Alves's dad was a teacher, and his mom worked at a supermarket run by Chinese owners. The family was better off than some, but it wasn't enough to send him abroad for an event.
Should he borrow a little cash from classmates? It wouldn't help. This wasn't the kind of problem a "little cash" could fix.
He opened his inbox and saw an unread email:
Subject: Travel Plan for "nine124"
From: Xiao Hong, Events Dept., LoveFruit
Hello, Mr. "nine124." I'm Xiao Hong from LoveFruit's Events Department, assigned to handle your travel for the Orange Festival in China. We haven't been able to reach you by phone for a long time, so I'm contacting you by email.
Since there's no direct flight from your country to China, our company has two routes for you to choose from:
Plan 1: Travel first to the capital, Dili, then fly from Presidente Nicolau Lobato International Airport to Singapore Changi Airport, and transfer from there to Shancheng, China.
Plan 2: Fly from Presidente Nicolau Lobato International Airport to Soekarno–Hatta International Airport in Jakarta, Indonesia, then transfer to Shancheng, China.
…
We look forward to hearing from you, Mr. "nine124."
It was a long email spelling out that LoveFruit would cover all travel and lodging for the festival, followed by clear contact details and next steps.
The Orange Festival was the gold standard for fan events in China, the absolute ceiling. Everyone in the fandom knew fans got to eat well and take home goodies. People abroad didn't know the specifics though.
Alves just stared, stunned. Did a plate of Portuguese-style sturgeon just fall out of the sky?
In East Timor, the main phone operator was Timor Telecom, TT for short. Once you left Dili, signal got spotty fast. Alves had a habit of switching to Instagram DMs and email whenever he went home for break, so he hadn't charged his phone in ages.
It wasn't just him. Lots of people in East Timor did the same.
Smartphones hadn't really taken off there, and East Timor was the only Southeast Asian country not in ASEAN, so you couldn't judge it by your usual habits.
He finally hustled around, plugged in his Transsion phone, and it charged quickly. When he turned it on, missed calls and messages popped up in a flood.
The texts were similar to the email. One thing jumped out though, a DHL notification: a package for him had arrived.
He went to pick it up. The sender was LoveFruit.
What was it, a mailed invitation? Didn't seem like it. The package was thick. It looked more like clothes.
No point guessing. He tore the plastic open. Inside was a long-sleeved white T-shirt.
The front had a chibi portrait of Chu Zhi. The back had an orange icon and a line of Chinese: "我们六岁啦!" (Wǒmen liù suì la!) or "We're six years old!"
He looked it up on Twitter and figured out it meant "We're six!" It referred to Chu Zhi debuting in 2017, which made it six years.
He pulled it on right away, twisted in front of the mirror, and grinned. It fit great. It looked great.
Then it clicked. No wonder the Orange Festival raffle had asked for a detailed size form. There were bonus outfits included. He was so glad he hadn't filled in nonsense.
The clothes were made by the Mu Chire brand. Right after leaving the clothing studio, Chu Zhi headed to Pioneer Design Studio.
Bu Shangfan had found a good neighborhood. The previous place had been designed by the original owner in a "business hotel" style, and the Emperor Beast hadn't bothered to change it. But this new place had to match his own habits.
He met the designer and laid out his needs.
"If I didn't miss anything critical," Designer Lao Zhao said, "you want all interior doors disguised like a secret room setup, so they're hidden?"
Lao Zhao had designed homes for a lot of stars. Some wanted walk-in closets bigger than the bedroom. Some wanted the whole place open-plan with only load-bearing walls left. Still, this request surprised him.
"I want anyone who steps into my home for the first time to fail at finding the bathroom door, the bedroom door, the kitchen door, and the study door right away," he repeated.
"Is it too hard?" he asked when he saw the frown.
"Our team can try," Lao Zhao said. He wasn't about to let a big order slip away.
"Thanks, Designer Zhao. I trust Pioneer's skills," he said first thing.
"We've never taken on a case like this, and there aren't many references like it at home or abroad," Lao Zhao admitted, playing it safe and setting expectations. "We'll be feeling our way forward with no stepping stones."
"You're too modest. If Brother Bu recommended you, I've got faith," he said.
Truth was, Lao Zhao wasn't confident. They finished the real talk, and both sides were busy, so there was no time to chat.
Overall style: East European vibe blended with New Chinese
Taboo: Client has trypophobia
Budget: Around 8 million
Small request: Hide all room entrances…
The style mix had been decided long ago, no problem there. The "small request" was the problem. He rubbed the corner of his eye and felt the pressure.
"If you look at it through architectural psychology," he muttered, "hiding all the doors screams deep insecurity." He didn't dwell on it though.
Too many factors shaped architecture. Maybe the client just loved escape-room aesthetics. "Deep insecurity" was only one possible reading.
And he wasn't a therapist. Better to focus on his actual job.
Speaking of jobs, it was time to talk about yesterday's hiring results.
The New Region's Chief Executive for performance arts would be Cai Yunyong. South Korea's performance group lead would be Park "Old Fiend." The titles were different, but the functions were basically the same.
They'd had conflicts in philosophy during mutual interviews for the Middle East and Indochina leads, so those two slots would need more time.
They'd already introduced Cai Yunyong in detail yesterday. He didn't look impressive, but his ambition and ability showed through.
He was different from advertising agent Qi Qiu. Qi Qiu wasn't handsome in the face, but everything else was handsome, a classic "shrimp-type boyfriend," great body. Cai had the kind of face-and-figure unity no one wanted.
As for Park "Old Fiend," the nickname said it all, sharp as a knife. A thirty-four-year-old who earned that moniker, you could imagine his personality.
He'd been a prosecutor. If you've watched enough K-dramas, you know how powerful prosecutors are in South Korea. "Overwhelming" isn't an exaggeration.
Here's something you probably remember. In the case of GZ's former top idol Lee Junsik, the agency YG had suppressed the news at first, but Park and his colleagues blew it open. No one knew why he'd resigned and turned up to apply here.
Was he here to dig up dirt on the "boss"? Maybe. But his network was wide, and his plan fit perfectly.
The "ad model artist" proposal got Brother Fei's strong approval. In Korea, there are artists who basically shoot ads, don't release much, yet never drop in status.
To pull off that trick, you needed three things: high popularity, strong national recognition, and real works. Brother Fei called it "thick blood." Didn't that fit him perfectly?
With connections and a workable plan, it was no surprise Park passed the interview.
Time blurred by, and September 5 rolled around, the day before the Orange Festival.
Alves put on his new festival T-shirt and set off for the airport. The farthest he'd ever gone was Dili for school. He'd never even been to neighboring Indonesia. Even if the trip was free, this was still his first time flying abroad, and at twenty, he was a little nervous.
He was spacey on the plane. He took out his MP3 to listen to songs. He'd never bought a physical album, but he did download legit tracks.
He chose to transfer in Jakarta instead of Singapore, because he knew a tiny bit of Indonesian, which made the transfer less scary.
Timor Island was split east and west. The east was his home country, and the west belonged to Indonesia's East Nusa Tenggara Province. Of course there was exchange between them.
Clearly, Alves didn't have a full picture of just how meticulous Chu Zhi could be…