"Director Du, don't lie to me. Our company actually signed Chu Zhi?" Niu Jiangxue looked utterly unconvinced.
"Don't make it sound like our company is some small fry." The pot-bellied director patted his stomach. "We ranked seventh on last year's entertainment company brand value list. We're a proper big company."
As he emphasized proper big company, Director Du gave his belly a few more pats. Niu Jiangxue watched it jiggle and wondered—"does that actually feel good?"
"Sure, we're seventh. But there are still six companies ahead of us. Chu Zhi is insanely popular right now. Have you seen the Feidian rankings? He's currently fourth!" Niu Jiangxue argued.
"Sun River has its own advantages," Director Du mused before asking, "Who's in the top three? Su Yiwu? Or Wu Tang?"
The Feidian rankings were Baidu's real-time popularity index, based on search volume. While awards ceremonies like Feidian Night were often dominated by data-pushing fan armies, the daily rankings reflected genuine public interest.
Director Du had assumed that after Dream of the Red Chamber, no one could match Chu Zhi's recent buzz.
"Princess Group's members and Choi Young-sik," Niu Jiangxue said, pulling up the real-time Feidian celebrity rankings on her phone.
Topping the list was Jo Kwon, the main vocalist of Princess Group, a boy band sweeping across Asia. As the most prominent member, he naturally drew the most attention—his Feidian stats showed 40M+ reads, 3M+ interactions, and a social influence index of 240M.
Dream of the Red Chamber had initially invited the group's main dancer, Jung Min-ah, and even tried to book Jo Kwon, but he outright refused.
Second place was Choi Young-sik, the male lead of the hit K-drama Diamond. Third was Jung Min-ah, the youngest member (maknae) and main dancer of Princess Group.
"Su Yiwu and Wu Tang are eleventh and eighth, respectively. That's why I'm saying Chu Zhi's popularity is insane—there's a cliff-like drop after fifth place," Niu Jiangxue explained.
[4th Place: Chu Zhi
Reads: 25,469,814
Interactions: 1,564,978
Social Influence Index: 136,548,951]
Niu Jiangxue's phone case was decked out with heavy dangling charms. Director Du nearly fumbled it when she handed it over.
"Careful! I just bought this phone two months ago!" She steadied it before continuing, "Now look at fifth place—Lee Seok-joon hasn't even cracked 10M reads. 'Wu at the head, Chu at the tail, soaring freely'—well, now Chu Zhi is the head."
Lee Seok-joon was another Princess Group member. The top ten only had three non-K-pop stars: Chu Zhi, Wu Tang, and Su Yiwu.
"I don't stan celebrities, but I respect Chu Zhi. It's like he's been reborn from the ashes—even unlocking a creative side," Niu Jiangxue said. A good agent shouldn't be a fangirl—it was professional ethics.
That said, some agents did end up marrying their stars—like Leo Ku, Da Zhangwei, and Chang Chen.
"Korean stars are getting too dominant. Dahua Entertainment is about to explode," Director Du sighed, handing the phone back.
"What does Dahua have to do with K-pop?" Niu Jiangxue wasn't privy to higher-level industry dealings.
"Korean agencies SM and JYP signed partnership deals with Dahua. All their artists' China operations are now under Dahua's management." Director Du's tone was tinged with envy—those proxy fees were lucrative.
Niu Jiangxue nodded. "No wonder the Hallyu wave is so strong here—Dahua and Mango TV are basically carrying it."
Hit dramas like Diamond were Mango TV imports. Even if they didn't air on mainstream channels, they still streamed on Mango TV's platform, which had locked in a slew of exclusive K-drama deals.
"Jiangxue, you've been with the company for three or four years now. I'm recommending you as Chu Zhi's lead agent," Director Du dropped the bombshell.
"!!!"
Niu Jiangxue felt like happiness had smacked her out of nowhere. She almost blurted out thanks, Uncle, but stopped herself—nepotism wasn't a good look at work.
"R-Really, Director Du?" she stammered.
"Don't thank me yet. Chu Zhi has full autonomy over his team. Whether you make the cut is up to you." Director Du raised a hand to pat his belly again but thought better of it.
"I'll… uh, do my best," Niu Jiangxue's confidence wavered. In terms of seniority and social savvy, she wasn't the company's top pick.
"Xiao Niu—" Director Du started.
"Call me Xiao Xue instead. Xiao Niu sounds awful," she cut in.
"Fine. Jiangxue, believe in yourself. Chu Zhi doesn't have much room to grow further, but his personality is solid. He'll stay at the top for years—that'll be a game-changer for your connections."
No kidding. Everyone knew being a top-tier agent was career gold. The question was whether Chu Zhi would even want her.
Leaving the office, Niu Jiangxue slumped at her desk, scrolling through files. Her competition? Three of the company's veteran agents.
Pressure. Mount. Tai.
"Well… things just got interesting," she muttered to herself.
This was her go-to phrase for stress relief:
Late for work? "Things just got interesting."
Paycheck docked? "Things just got interesting."
Even period cramps? Same mantra. Oddly therapeutic.
Her desk's bag of chips was gone.
"Oh, I got a little hungry earlier, so I ate some. That's fine, right?" a coworker said breezily.
"Of course," Niu Jiangxue smiled sweetly. This colleague had a habit of taking without asking, so she'd deliberately left out a bag expired by two days.
"Won't kill them, but it'll make me feel better."
Elsewhere—Recording Studio
["I blame myself for being so weak, regret never reaching you… Even after hugging, I'm still afraid—"]
"Pause it there." Chu Zhi hadn't finalized the master track yet, but after mixing, he always gave it a test listen. A third of the way through, he stopped.
"I sang this? It's too heartbreaking." Listening as an outsider, he was instantly pulled into the emotion. Any longer, and he'd have teared up.
He was recording "Against the Light" for his album—and it sounded even better than his Singer stage performance. Back then, he'd been unprepared, relying purely on raw emotion (and hitting many off-key notes).
But in the studio? He could redo takes, fine-tune technique, stay on pitch—then layer in Voice of Despair. The result? 1 + 1 > 3.
"The Wind Blows the Wheat" and "Sleepwalking" had showcased his heavenly vocals, especially the latter's chorus:
["Da-la-da-la… Sol, sol, ti, sol, la, do…"]
"Add "Suddenly Missing You" and "What I Miss"—this debut album's quality is insane."
"With my current popularity? I'm gonna blow a hole straight through the sky."
The album title—25,117 Possibilities—even hid a secret surprise. Chu Zhi felt like he was holding a flawless hand.
"Li Xingwei's album was the most iconic among top stars. I don't ask for much—just to take that crown."
His next move? After signing the contract (but before finalizing his agent), Sun River had already pitched him a new music competition—iQiyi's I Am a Singer-Songwriter, their ambitious bid to join the Big Four (I Am a Singer, The Coming One, The Voice of China, Masked Singer).
Chu Zhi declined. His singer-songwriter cred was already cemented after Dream of the Red Chamber. Unless they threw insane money at him? No deal.
Another day of recording wrapped. For the MV shoot, he'd need the company's help—he was Chu Zhi, not Chu Shun (a famed director). Filming wasn't his forte.
Next Day—Beijing, Sun River HQ
Time to pick his team.