Little Fruits finished watching and asked curiously, "Was Xiao Jiu in there? I didn't notice him at all." (scratches head)
[Sisters, think about the rooftop scene.]
[No wonder you didn't notice. I only realized when the credits rolled—Role of the rooftop split-personality patient: Chu Zhi.]
[Holy shit holy shit holy shit, I'm stunned, the movie was insane, brother Jiu's acting was god-tier. Brother Jiu's always soft and gentle in every occasion, but this despair and sadness? He's never shown that before, I couldn't even connect the two.]
[Xiao Jiu's amazing, his acting improved way too fast.]
The controversy that had blown up some time ago disappeared completely with tonight's midnight premiere. His performance spoke for itself.
Even Little Fruits was dazed. She asked, [It's not just me looking through rose-colored glasses, right? On the rooftop, Zhang Li honestly didn't seem as good as Xiao Jiu. Someone please wake me up, is my fan filter that strong?]
A passerby replied: [It's not the filter. That cameo was straight-up god-tier, no explanation needed.]
Online analysis gods also started breaking down the performance.
"Saying Chu Zhi's acting is better than Zhang Li's might be too much. More precisely, in that non-verbal face-off, Chu Zhi grabbed more attention."
"Bold guess, Chu Zhi probably pulled off a superhuman performance. Zhang Li didn't react in time, but the fact he managed to catch up later proves his experience."
And so the discussions went.
It was just a single scene, not even core to the plot, normally not worth overanalyzing. But when you're expecting a regular dumpling meal and suddenly get served a seafood feast, it feels excessive. Besides, hype and anticipation had already been built sky-high before the release.
Li Silu wasn't a professional critic, not even a big account, so his long reviews rarely got much traction.
But his review of Abnormal Is Normal was an exception—it exploded. Not because he was ruthless with words, no, but because he made a shocking hypothesis.
"Why did Chu Zhi's acting improve so rapidly? Here's my hypothesis—what if that wasn't acting at all?"
He opened with interviews of Shiyi Lang's main cast, where they'd all been asked about Chu Zhi:
Wang Anyi: "He doesn't have exceptional talent, but he's very professional."
You Quan: "Xiao Chu learns quickly. I have high hopes for him."
Bai Dongtao: "He often gets scolded by the director, but his mindset's great."
By review-writing standards, this was amateurish.
But then he continued:
"From the above interviews with actors, writers, and directors, two points are consistent.
Chu Zhi's performance as Su Shiyi didn't particularly satisfy the director on set.
Chu Zhi works very hard.
Whether he has talent, I won't say. But in the past year I checked his schedule—back-to-back projects without pause. Even a genius can't improve their craft without practice time, so how did Chu Zhi manage to shine shoulder-to-shoulder with Best Actor Zhang Li?
Here's the answer I found: Chu Zhi once attempted suicide and was diagnosed with severe depression and PTSD.
I'm no psychologist, so this next part has no academic basis, it's just pure guesswork.
His nameless cameo hit so hard because of the rapid emotional shifts (I even asked an acting teacher who confirmed this). But what if those shifts didn't come from technique… what if they came from his private depressive state?
Chu Zhi always shows a positive image to the public. But can someone with severe depression really be all sunshine? Is that even possible?"
For context: Bai Dongtao, the one quoted, was a veteran actor who played the theater boss in Shiyi Lang.
Most critics throw stones into a pond and make ripples. Li Silu, however, had just dropped a nuclear bomb into "Little Fruits' emotional ocean." The destructive power was unmatched.
Fans read the post and reacted:
[Little Fruits here, and I think the blogger's spot on. Xiao Jiu's just showing us his best side.]
[That stab out of nowhere, I wanna cry.]
[So you're saying Xiao Jiu wasn't acting at all, just being himself? No way, I can't accept that!]
[I'm a therapist. Depression can improve slowly, but being endlessly positive like Xiao Jiu shows is indeed abnormal. Even healthy people can't always be positive. From a psychological standpoint, I agree. My heart aches for him.]
Li Silu's review didn't just blow up, it went viral.
By morning, he had 999+ DMs and comments, experiencing internet fame for the first time.
"No matter how well you write or how much knowledge you have, nothing beats picking the right topic."
That's when Li Silu felt like he'd unlocked a secret technique.
While he was gaining enlightenment, many Little Fruits were spending money. When you feel your idol's pain, you wanna support him—buy albums, merch, whatever. But the merch had been out of stock for ages, and the albums required a VPN to buy. After struggling a bit, most fans' impulse calmed down.
Meanwhile, far away in Russia, Chu Zhi immediately got the news. He drafted an explanation post and shared it online:
[Thanks to the support of fans and friends around me, my mental and emotional state has improved a lot. Thank you all for your concern, please don't worry.] [Image]
He ended it with a close-up selfie, showing he was doing fine.
As the self-proclaimed Emperor Beast, he felt that if he'd become the sun for so many fans, then his health had to improve too. Only then could he light the way forward for Little Fruits.
But things never go as planned. On multiple platforms, the feedback from fans was—
[Xiao Jiu just wants us to feel at ease, sob sob sob.]
[We all know the truth, Jiu-yé, but it's okay. I'll pretend to believe you're fine.]
[Hugging you tight, the photo looks good, but thinking back to Dream of Red Mansions, Journey Among the Stars, and Back to the Countryside, when did you ever not look this gentle?]
[Exactly. Even on the live-streamed Red Mansions show, apart from sneaking cigarettes and drinks, he never once showed negative emotions.]
And so on.
Two hidden winners in all this? Mango TV and iQiyi.
Two or three years later, Che Lun had climbed from department head at iQiyi to Chief Culture Officer (CCO).
"A single issue with Xiao Jiu shakes the whole fandom." Che Lun muttered. "That's the ceiling of Chinese entertainment."
He was both director and producer of the variety show Journey Among the Stars, so he kept an eye on internet buzz.
"But truth is, Xiao Jiu's health hasn't been great."
He remembered filming Journey Among the Stars with him and suddenly felt guilty for not checking in sooner.
Scrolling through WeChat, he saw the last message from Chu Zhi was months ago, on his birthday. Back then, Chu Zhi had sent him blessings, but he'd replied half-heartedly because he was busy with family dinner and too many greetings.
The guilt weighed heavier. He thought about how Chu Zhi had saved their show during the Hokkaido earthquake. Without him, Che Lun might've lost his job instead of getting promoted.
That was what you'd call a "revived friendship."
He messaged:
[Brother, how've you been? Everything okay with your health? Let's find time to eat and catch up, it's been too long.]
Then, thinking it wasn't sincere enough, he quickly added another:
[I just got promoted last year, so I was swamped. Things have eased now, so I'm doing much better.]
Satisfied, he put down his phone. But then he stumbled upon strange news:
"According to reliable sources, the Chongqing Exhibition Center was purchased. Rumor has it the buyer's a Chu Zhi fan, just to host the annual fan festival."
Che Lun frowned. "Reliable, my ass. Definitely fake. Even with all his fans, that place costs over two billion. The center was built by the government, no way it's up for sale."
Still, he sighed at his new show's casting troubles. If they could invite Chu Zhi, sponsors would line up. But the cost was astronomical. Unless it was a show broadcasting across all of Asia, there was no way to recoup the budget.
Back on the trending list, the internet was flooded with sympathy. To give him strength, countless Little Fruits uploaded clips of themselves singing The Most Beautiful Sun and The Brightest Star in the Night Sky online.
Early that morning, the Emperor Beast thought that posting an explanation would calm things down. After that, he went with Li Tedian and the film crew to reshoot two shots for the Moscow MV.
The MV had been finished already, but during post-production they noticed a slip-up, so they rushed back to fix it.
That night, when he returned to the hotel, he saw the online chatter had gotten even more exaggerated. For a moment, the Emperor Beast didn't even know what to say.
The Little Fruits had grown up so much, but now they were finding new ways to stab themselves every single day?
Chu Zhi was full of question marks. He never expected the discussions to spiral in this direction.
Should he keep replying? After thinking for a moment, Chu Zhi decided against it. Judging from the current situation, the more he spoke, the more excited the Little Fruits got. What they needed was a distraction. After some thought, Chu Zhi realized he could redirect attention by promoting his soon-to-be-released international album.
Once he had the idea, the Emperor Beast called Niu Niu and made a small request. Starting promotions early at home wouldn't be too hard, so Niu Jiangxue quickly agreed.
That night, Aiguo's official Weibo and the Orang Home app announced:
"Chu Zhi's carefully crafted new album, blending musical styles from multiple countries, All Nations Vol. 1 will be released soon. Please look forward to it!"
Just as Chu Zhi expected, most of the Little Fruits' attention shifted immediately.
Especially when an Aiguo staff member "accidentally" leaked some info:
"The boss's new album is insane, I'm telling you, absolutely explosive. I'll just reveal one thing—there'll be songs in Cantonese and French. That's all I can say."
That single tease was like throwing dry wood onto the fire. Discussions exploded, and even casual listeners joined in. Chu Zhi's songs always had real impact, so "Produced by Chu Zhi, guaranteed quality" wasn't an exaggeration. Anytime a strong musician dropped new work, the internet buzzed.
Fans flooded with questions: When exactly would the album drop? Even just the month would do. No promo was needed at all—on Douyin, Weibo, Douban, Xiaohongshu, the hashtag #ChuZhiNewAlbum shot up the trending list on its own.
And no wonder. Based on Chu Zhi's past rhythm, he usually released two albums a year, one in Chinese and one in a foreign language. Half of 2024 had already passed with no movement. Sure, everyone knew he'd been busy filming a Hollywood blockbuster, but knowing was one thing, and nagging for an album was another.
Fans in Hong Kong and Guangdong, along with Cantonese music lovers, were especially thrilled. Chu Zhi had written too few Cantonese songs, the last ones being A Chinese Ghost Story and A Laugh in the Sea.
With so much hype, Bilibili music creators started making speculation videos based on the little info available. Some even tried predicting the new album's style by analyzing his past releases.
Meanwhile, another hot topic online was Wang Anyi's movie Abnormal Is Normal.
The film's strong quality, combined with Wang Anyi's name power and the bonus effect of "Chu Zhi's acting incident," brought in 470 million yuan on its opening day, locking in its spot as summer box office champion.
The second day added 410 million, and the total was already approaching the billion mark.
Back on Chu Zhi's side, Niu Niu's team was working through album release details:
"When exactly will All Nations Vol. 1 drop worldwide? What's the promo theme, and how should we execute it?"
Domestic promotions had already started, but the official overseas release date wasn't locked yet. The team wasn't worried though, because Aiguo's earlier success with The One Watched by the Gods had built solid distribution channels in Europe and the US.
After discussions, and checking other artists' release schedules, they set the global launch date for September 17. Coincidentally, that day was also China's Dragon Boat Festival.
With that set, Niu Jiangxue called Chu Zhi on video chat, this time with Wang Yuan present too.
"This could've waited until you came back, but I think it's better to say it now," Niu Jiangxue said seriously. "Next June marks your eighth debut anniversary, Brother Chu. That means concert time."
"Eight years since debut? Time really flew." Chu Zhi immediately thought it was good they brought it up now. Honestly, it was already a bit late to start planning.
Niu Niu had no choice. Artists were too busy these days. Some even recorded songs during breaks in filming. Only recently had things slowed down a little.
"You debuted in June 2017 with Future's Star," Wang Yuan sighed. "In the blink of an eye, it'll be 2025."
Which meant he'd crossed five years since his rebirth. Chu Zhi felt a wave of emotion and silently thanked the system for staying by his side.
In his head, he hummed: 🎵 "Listen to me, thank you. Because of you, all four seasons are warm." 🎵
"Xiao Jiu, do you have a theme in mind for the concert?" Wang Yuan noticed him zoning out and called him back.
"Let's go with With Chu Beside You," Chu Zhi replied. "It's my way of thanking fans for eight years of support."
Wang Yuan nodded. "That's a great theme."
"If we're doing this, then it has to be a global tour. How many shows do you want to hold?" Niu Jiangxue asked.
"What's the usual number for a world tour?" Chu Zhi asked.
"Seven to fifteen shows," Niu Jiangxue replied.
"That few?" Chu Zhi was surprised. After all, Earth's Jacky Cheung had once done over a hundred concerts in a single year. Could seven to fifteen really count as a world tour?
Niu Jiangxue explained, "Very few stars can pull off a true global tour. As long as you do one overseas concert, like in Singapore, Tokyo, or Seoul, it's called a world tour."
"What's the team's recommendation?" Chu Zhi asked.
"At least eight shows across Asia—Japan, Korea, Russia, Vietnam, Thailand, and so on. If time allows, Japan and Korea can have two each. Domestically, at least nineteen shows."
The nineteen was calculated—four in the first-tier cities, plus fifteen in the new first-tier.
Wang Yuan shook his head. "Nineteen won't cut it. My personal suggestion is thirty-three."
That covered the twenty-three provinces, five autonomous regions, four municipalities, and Hong Kong. Adding eight or more overseas shows, the total would be over forty.
"More than forty shows in a year? That's brutal for a singer's body and mind," Niu Jiangxue warned. "Brother Chu, think carefully."
"I'll take two days to decide," Chu Zhi said.
Show counts aside, they also needed to think about stage scale, costumes, and dozens of other details.
But they'd overlooked one big thing: all of this planning assumed All Nations Vol. 1 had already been released.
Before that, they still had to host the fifth Orange Festival, which would mark a turning point in format.
With Orang Home app downloads growing overseas, more foreign fans were tuning in. To put it bluntly, the festival's influence was surpassing even traditional media like Global Times.
Chu Zhi wanted to shine just a little brighter, to contribute to cultural exchange. But he wasn't reckless—what mattered most was giving Little Fruits happy memories.
For example, every festival came with redeemable merch. This time, Chu Zhi partnered with a cultural press to release a special "Chu Zhi Recommended Edition" of the Four Great Classics.
This was marketing at its finest—emphasize his brand, downplay the book's. Sneaky, maybe, but effective for promotion.
Everyone knew the Four Great Classics, and translations already existed in English, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, and more. But would foreign youth really read them? Probably not. Unless… it was tied to their idol. If fans bought the "Chu Zhi Edition" as merch after the festival, they'd naturally end up reading them too.
The fifth Orange Festival was an experiment. Many things were unfinished, so Chu Zhi decided to keep it simple this time and wait until the sixth to go all out.
===
"倩女幽魂" (Qiàn Nǚ Yōu Hún) — A Chinese Ghost Story by 张国荣 (Zhang Guorong, Leslie Cheung).
"沧海一声笑" (Cānghǎi Yī Shēng Xiào) — A Laugh in the Sea by 黄霑 (James Wong).
"听我说谢谢你" (Tīng Wǒ Shuō Xièxiè Nǐ) — Listen to Me, Thank You by 李昕融 (Li Xinrong).