"One album in eight languages, that's never been done anywhere in the world." Niu Jiangxue held the planning sheet. The more she read, the more her eyes filled with admiration. Things were getting interesting.
One album covering all six official UN languages plus extras. Forget parallel worlds, even Earth had never seen anything like it.
"Didn't expect this, really didn't. Jiu-yé, you even know Arabic?" Lao Qian clicked his tongue in surprise.
"I just started learning, really only a little. Worse than my Spanish," Chu Zhi answered.
"Oh come on, Brother Chu, that's exaggerating," Qi Qiu said. "You barely start studying and you're already writing songs? What kind of crazy talent is that, oh my god."
Niu Niu nodded. It was outrageous, but thinking back, Chu Zhi had already pulled off plenty of ridiculous feats. By now, "outrageous" was almost normal for him.
Wang Yuan stayed quiet, just looking at the tracklist with the silent message: "I knew my Xiao Jiu would be this amazing."
Adding an Arabic track wasn't really optional. You couldn't release an "All Nations" album and leave one UN language out, that'd look bizarre. Think about the publicity too—Qatar had practically become a Chu Zhi nation of fans, and that fandom helped push big trade deals with China. Plus, the Investment Office's Ghazi and Princess Mayassa were both Little Fruits. Leaving Arabic out would've been a slap in the face.
After picking through options, he settled on Arabian Late Autumn. Simple lyrics, but massively famous in the Arab world. When the album dropped, his popularity in the region would skyrocket.
The Japanese and Korean songs were in there mostly to boost sales. Chu Zhi had a small ambition: could All Nations I crack ten million copies and become a legend in the "black iron" era of physical albums?
It sounded impossible, but broken down, not so crazy. Five million in Asia, five million in Europe and America. Within Asia, China would take the lead. In the West, America would carry the numbers. Not impossible at all.
"Qin Fei, what do you think?" Niu Jiangxue asked Brother Fei directly.
People might argue about his bluntness, but on big calls, everyone valued his opinion. All eyes shifted to him.
"It's impressive, no doubt. But will the album have staying power? Worldwide, it's still English songs that get the most circulation," Brother Fei said, always straight to the core.
"The two English songs and the Spanish ones were designed for spread. Shouldn't be a problem," Chu Zhi replied.
Thriller, Beat It, plus Despacito, Sofía, and Danza Kuduro. The first two were Michael Jackson classics, the last three had billions of plays on YouTube. With those as anchors, there was nothing to worry about.
Realistically, if an album had even one or two global hits, it was already a smash success.
"I believe in brother Jiu's songwriting. With that level, no problem," Brother Fei nodded.
With that, the first major project of the new year was locked in.
"Help me contact the recording studio in Belfast," Chu Zhi suddenly remembered.
"Belfast?" Everyone frowned. That was the capital of Northern Ireland. What was so special about recording there?
Niu Jiangxue figured it out first. "The Unsinkable crew starts soon."
The others snapped awake. They'd just come back from the holiday, brains still half-foggy.
Chu Zhi nodded. Niu Jiangxue was right. The filming site for Unsinkable was Belfast. After more than half a year, Director Comeron's demand to rebuild the Titanic at full scale was finally complete.
"Then I've gotta go too. Damn, I hate traveling abroad." Brother Fei sighed. "I'll need to start arranging the handover."
Aiguo Company was one of the big investors, so of course someone had to be dispatched as producer. Even if Comeron was a top director, Unsinkable wasn't run on a "producer-first" system. Still, someone had to watch the budget and accounts.
"There's still a week. Enough time for handover, no need to rush," Chu Zhi said.
Being producer sounded cushy, and it was in some ways. But it also meant half a year abroad, barely any chance to come back. Nobody in the core team wanted the role. Still, the producer had to be someone trustworthy. In the end, Brother Fei volunteered, putting an end to everyone else's reluctance.
Reluctant didn't mean refusing, just "if there's a better option, it doesn't have to be me."
Brother Fei was head of the advertising department, a key company position. His absence wouldn't be short, so they'd need an acting head.
It was the first meeting of the year, so the agenda was packed. Finish one item, move to the next, and the time blew past schedule.
Next, Niu Niu brought up a case she'd noticed last year. Some fans had strange habits. A group of them only listened to old songs. No matter how good new songs were, they ignored them, unless one hit their exact taste. It looked like a new trend forming among Little Fruits.
"How can that be? Jiu-yé's new songs are always top-tier, and the promotion's flawless. Why would this happen?" Lao Qian frowned.
"Maybe it's because his past work was too good? Fans start thinking of Xiao Jiu like a veteran with decades in the industry, so they treat him like a 'classic artist.' It's like how none of us would read a heavy literary classic just to kill time." Wang Yuan analyzed.
"Is that really possible?" Lao Qian stayed doubtful.
"It could be," Wang Yuan said. "Think about it. If Teacher Chen dropped a new album, would you rush to listen right away?"
"Teacher Chen" wasn't Edison Chen from Earth, but Chen Aigui, an old rocker Chu Zhi had met a few times. Chen Aigui was known as the "most individualistic rocker." At one concert, he got so hyped he threw his guitar into the air, planning to catch it. He did, but he'd thrown it too high. The force of the fall fractured his hand. Even so, he finished the show before going to the hospital.
Lao Qian didn't follow stars but liked Chen Aigui's music. Several of his songs were staples on his playlist. When Wang Yuan asked, he instinctively wanted to say "of course," but after thinking a moment, he admitted, "I guess it doesn't matter. If I remember or stumble across it, sure I'll listen. But I won't go looking."
"Whatever the cause, I want it stopped," Niu Jiangxue said flatly. She didn't care about reasons, only solutions.
The group brainstormed. Qi Qiu suggested a bold idea: release a few songs under an alias, build hype, then reveal the alias was Chu Zhi. Instant explosion.
Qi Qiu got more excited as he spoke, saying they'd need to change style and compress the vocals a bit.
Chu Zhi could do it—he had plenty of sad love songs tucked away. He could easily play "Prince of Ballads" under a mask. But… it wasn't worth the hassle for something this small.
The meeting rolled on with more discussions. Don't be surprised by how much there was to cover. Even deciding whether to renew endorsements after contracts expired, or how much to raise fees if they did, was a big debate.
Chu Zhi's workload piled on too. Valentine's Day promos had to be shot. Christmas and Valentine's were the two holidays capitalism had hyped into monsters. His schedule proved it.
Valentine's, Rain Water, late winter festivals, Lantern Festival. Before the New Year vibe faded, the entertainment industry already had fresh drama.
Two rising starlets' fans kicked off a massive war over billing order.
"Billing order" came from Japan's showbiz. Whoever's name came first on promotional material was "first billing." In domestic entertainment, young actresses and actors obsessed over it.
The fan war came from a series called Splendid Celebration. It had two female leads. The producers had already been super cautious—matching poster space, equal promo slots, even equal character name spacing in the credits.
But when a reporter asked the director, "Were you satisfied with the leads' performances?" he answered, "Song Li's acting shocked me. Her portrayal of the Crown Princess of Qingguo has me full of anticipation."
He only praised Song Li. Fans of the other starlet lost it, bombarded the show's official account, and dragged both the director and Song Li into the firestorm.
The director didn't matter, he barely had fans. But Song Li was popular, and her fanbase clashed with the other side. The whole internet dove in for popcorn.
There's some truth to the saying "fans pay the price for idols." Without some tacit approval or even fanning the flames from the two stars' teams, it wouldn't have blown up like this.
Time: Early March
Characters: Chu Zhi and Xiao Zuzhi
Landing at Belfast International Airport, they were met by assistant director Capono, a clear sign of top-tier treatment for the male lead.
Capono was in his fifties, with deep smile lines that made him look older and sharper than his years. His eyes were piercing, leaving a strong impression.
"Mr. Chu Zhi, welcome to Northern Ireland," Capono said.
He was assistant director, but since he was from Londonderry in Ireland, it made sense.
"It's my first time here," Chu Zhi replied.
"Northern Irish are warm and hospitable. Our crime rate's the lowest in the UK, even lower than America's. It's a wonderful place for tourism…"
Even though Capono had worked in Hollywood, he was full of affection for his hometown, enthusiastically introducing its music and dances.
Chu Zhi was the perfect listener. When you talked to him, especially when you were excited, his focused questions and encouraging gaze made you feel completely at ease.
After a half-hour drive, Chu Zhi arrived at the filming site and finally met the main cast of Unsinkable.
"Come on everyone, I'm honored to introduce a key figure," Capono said.
The female lead, Rose, was played by Idolia. Her role was that of a young woman forced into an engagement to save her crumbling family, though her heart rebelled. Only when she met the kindred spirit, an Eastern youth named "Li," did she decide to follow her true feelings.
The second male lead, Tobit, was played by Hollywood actor Momoko. He was cast as the steel tycoon's son, the fiancé Rose was meant to marry.
Chu Zhi greeted the older Rose, Rose's mother, the captain, the lower-class friends, and the rest of the major supporting cast one by one.
Behind the scenes, director Comeron wasn't on site, and the two producers were out as well. One of them was Brother Fei, who had arrived two days earlier. Since it was his first time as producer, he had to figure out a lot by trial and error.
The launch ceremony for the film was held at the Grand Central Hotel in Belfast. The main creative team lived there too, right in the city center, just a few hundred meters from City Hall and Victoria Street.
"Wang's a very talented director. In Eleventh Son, he fully drew out your cinematic talent," Comeron had told him earlier. "My hope is to tap into another side of your skills to create the visuals I want."
No wonder Comeron had dared to cast a Chinese actor as the lead. Hearing that, Chu Zhi understood a little. Comeron was an arrogant man, the kind of director who said "the visuals I like" instead of "the visuals the audience likes."
It was a reminder not to judge by appearances. Comeron looked gentle, even scholarly, a bit farsighted with reading glasses perched on his nose, his brown eyes calm and quiet. In contrast, Capono's hawk-like gaze made people feel like one wrong move would draw fierce criticism.
But in practice, it was Comeron who tore into everyone on set.
"Idolia, if your performance were just a bit better, I might believe those newspapers calling you a genius."
"Why's there an error here? If the lighting's wrong again, I'll do it myself. This crew doesn't keep people who don't work, so sir, you'd be fired."
"Perfect, Mr. Chu Zhi's performance could win a Golden Raspberry for Worst Actor."
"Sorry, I laughed, but your acting just now was awful."
…
So much for "gentle Comeron." His directing style was nothing like Wang Anyi or Ōtsu Etsuji, both world-class directors. Wang's approach was to guide actors to grasp the heart of their character, but Comeron was a scalpel, slicing straight into flaws with sharp words that hurt but forced improvement.
If Wang Anyi was a tyrant on set, then Comeron was a surgeon, cutting deep and leaving you aching.
"Chu, let's hit the bar tonight," Momoko clapped him on the shoulder.
Momoko's role in the movie wasn't likable, but offscreen he was easygoing, often treating people to meals, clearly well-off.
"Tonight?" Chu Zhi hesitated.
"Yeah, let's party hard. Tomorrow's a rest day, no need to worry. The best holiday gift is a blackout drunk, drunk till you can't remember your own name!" Momoko said with a grin.
American film crews usually had weekends off, sometimes even local holidays. For example, Northern Ireland's unique "Orange Day" meant a mandatory day off.
"I've got a recording session tomorrow, so I won't kill the vibe. You guys have fun," Chu Zhi replied.
Momoko smacked his forehead. "Right, you're a singer too. Man, that's tough, filming and recording at the same time. I've heard your songs though. When the album's done, make sure I get a signed copy."
"Of course, no problem," Chu Zhi said.
Most of the crew went off with Momoko to party. Chu Zhi returned to the hotel instead, paying attention to his diet to keep his voice in good condition.
The next morning, Saturday, he woke early, jogged, showered, and headed to breakfast right as it opened at 7:40. The spread was simple: bread, jam, and cereal with milk.
"Director Comeron, up this early?" Chu Zhi spotted him looking surprisingly energetic. If he remembered right, Comeron had been invited out last night too.
"A little wine doesn't stop me waking early. Besides, I'm used to it," Comeron said.
From Momoko's tweets, it looked like they'd drunk a lot. Damn, the man was getting older but still had stamina.
The Niu Jiangxue team proved their efficiency again. They'd already booked a studio near the filming site, Curt Recording Studio, so Chu Zhi could easily keep recording All Nations I.
Meanwhile, his anonymous donations had officially crossed 300 million yuan in just a few days, thanks to a burst of crazy spending. The Emperor Beast had reason to suspect the charity federation already knew who he was, or they wouldn't have created a special channel for anonymous large donations this year.
As long as it didn't affect the system's recognition, he didn't care. Achievements meant personality coins, and that was what mattered.
Over four or five years, he'd donated three hundred million, easily earning the title of "Charity Pioneer." He unlocked the achievement [Low-Key Donations of Ten Million ×30] and gained 30 personality coins.
Doing the math—33 + 30 - 10—he had 52 coins left.
The minus ten came from the custom album coupon freezing ten coins. Even if he used all the coupons, he'd still be short three songs.
So he made his biggest "purchase" since crossing over: a triple blind-box pull. The results:
[Selected Poems of Haizi][Spanish Language Pack][Custom Album Coupon ×1]
The system knew how to hand out prizes. All three were exactly what he needed.
"I'm now a guy who can handle Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Russian, English, French, and Spanish. Sure, not as crazy as those Republic of China big shots who juggled eight or nine languages, but I'm half a big shot myself."
He needed three Spanish songs anyway. Last time, with 🎵Cup of Life🎵, critics had said his accent wasn't great. Now nobody could complain.
As for Haizi, Chu Zhi had once used one of his lines as a signature on Earth: "Promise me, endure your pain in silence, walk across this city without a word." Later, when he read the full poem, he realized the line had a very different meaning in context. Still, he loved it.
"With 37 coins left and another custom album coupon, I've got enough to finish the record."
At Curt Studio, he found it odd at first. He was used to Dream Dragon Studios, and switching to a foreign setup took some getting used to.
Life in Northern Ireland became a rhythm of surgical-level criticism from Comeron during filming, then recording sessions during breaks. Busy days, but progress was solid on both fronts.
Since he'd be abroad for half a year, vanishing completely wasn't an option. The team periodically released updates on his work.
March: Chu Zhi Becomes the First Chinese Actor to Lead a Hollywood Blockbuster Outside the Action Genre
Mid-March: Genius Scholar Idolia Calls Chu Zhi "The Best Conversationalist I've Ever Met"
Mid-April: Enormous Investment in Unsinkable Leaves Fox Producers Feeling the Pressure
Late July: From Wang Anyi to Baggon, Joseph, and Now Comeron: Why Do the World's Top Directors Favor Chu Zhi?
Late August: The Rise of Aiguo: How a No-Name Company Partnered with Hollywood Giant Fox
And so on, each bit of promo fresh and different. Idolia's image as a "genius scholar" was especially solid. With her Oxford master's in electromechanical engineering, she'd have been a top researcher if not scouted for her looks.
No two promos were alike. Niu Jiangxue's team handled it perfectly, timing everything to avoid clashing with hot news while keeping Chu Zhi in the spotlight.