"My love is like a tide, like a tide pushing me toward you, hmm hmm..." Chu Zhi hummed a tune. In his past life, he only remembered the choruses of many songs.
Xiao Zhu, his life assistant, was one of the staff members who followed the artist daily, and she was utterly shocked. At first, she didn't pay much attention when she heard him humming, but later she realized the lyrics didn't exist.
This wasn't just humming—it was original creation. His creative ability was terrifyingly strong. With such skill, he was more than qualified to join I Am a Singer-Songwriter.
"Xiao Zhu," Chu Zhi glanced at the time and asked, "Have Mr. Ma and Mr. Winston arrived yet?"
"Brother Qiu just texted that they're downstairs," Xiao Zhu replied.
"Then I'll trouble you to greet them," Chu Zhi said.
Xiao Zhu hurriedly said it was no trouble at all and left the office floor to take the elevator to the underground parking lot.
Humming was a sign of his good mood. As the saying goes, good things come in pairs. In a couple of days, Chu Zhi would get to take down a Korean celebrity, and now he had a free masseur and nutritionist. Who doesn't love freebies?
Ten minutes later, Xiao Zhu returned with two burly men, both dressed in suits.
"Ma Weihao, 'Wei' as in 'future,' 'Hao' as in the character with three drops of water plus 'scenery' and 'page,'" the masseur introduced himself. "Boss can just call me Haoyou. If you ever feel sore, tired, or achy, I can give you a rub."
Haoyu—what a nickname. It made Chu Zhi hungry because he always added oyster sauce to his hotpot dipping sauce.
The nutritionist, Winston, was a mixed-race man. Though his looks were two tiers below Chu Zhi's, he was still a handsome guy with features leaning more toward Chinese aesthetics, except for his deep-set eyes and prominent brow ridge.
"My Chinese name is Liu Xu, but Boss can also call me Morton," Winston said without any accent, his Mandarin perfectly fluent. He immediately addressed Chu Zhi as "Boss."
"Boss, you can tell me all your favorite foods, and I'll arrange a healthy diet for you every day," he added.
Nutritionist—Chu Zhi had almost forgotten about that. His high-carb diet and love for spicy food were achievements he couldn't stop.
"My daily diet is pretty simple. I'll have Xiao Zhu send it to you later," Chu Zhi said.
After introductions, Morton and Ma Weihao were given their own desks in the company. Chu Zhi's studio had no problem accommodating two more people.
Why two men? Of course, there were female masseuses and nutritionists, but one had to consider who was paying for these services—mother fans wouldn't hire stunningly beautiful women, would they?
If Chu Zhi knew their thoughts, he would tell his mother fans they were overthinking it. During an audition in Zhangjiajie, a female actress had once thrown herself at him (no names mentioned).
Chu Zhi's response: My fans would prefer me to focus on my career. I've also promised them I won't date for now.
He still remembered the complicated look on that woman's face—[Is this guy insane?], [You can just say that?], [Unbelievable.]
What man wouldn't want that? But as mentioned before, the Actor Beast's greatest joy was deceiving people. Plus, Chu Zhi was extremely cautious—just look at all the scandals in the entertainment industry.
"The AC isn't working well in the middle. I'll call property management later," Chu Zhi muttered as he checked tomorrow's schedule:
[June 2nd
Official appearance as Chongqing Tourism Ambassador.
Filming Dior's Sauvage Men's Perfume ad + 8D City concept promotional video.]
These were the two main tasks. The rest, like authorized portrait shoots, could be handled by Uncle Chen on the side.
Anyone familiar with celebrity schedules knew how tricky planning could be. For instance, the official appearance wasn't originally scheduled, and the Dior shoot was arranged at Chu Zhi's request because the 4th was the anniversary of his grandfather's death. He needed time to return to Fengdu, Chongqing, to visit Tian Shui Ping Cemetery.
Even though Chu Zhi had no real emotional connection to his "grandfather," he had decided to visit his grave every year on the anniversary and, if possible, during Qingming Festival.
Meanwhile, at his desk, Morton received Chu Zhi's dietary records from the past few days.
Xiao Zhu said, "Brother Liu, I was the one who recorded this, so it's not very neat. If you have any questions, just ask me."
"No problem, as long as—" Morton was about to say as long as it's legible, but his words got stuck when he saw what Chu Zhi had eaten for dinner the previous night.
[Dinner: Spicy hotpot (about half a pound of vegetables), three bowls of white rice, two braised pig trotters, one bowl of zhajiang noodles (2 taels).]
"Xiao Zhu, are you sure this was just for Boss alone? Not for several people?" Morton asked immediately.
"Positive. Brother Chu has always had a big appetite," Xiao Zhu confirmed.
Next, he checked lunch and breakfast. To put it bluntly, aside from breakfast (which was reasonable), lunch and dinner were severely over the limit in terms of carbs and calories.
"Does Boss exercise a lot every day?" Morton pressed.
"Does walking an average of 10,000 steps count?" Xiao Zhu asked hesitantly.
Morton: "No. Exercise means cardio, like running or playing basketball."
"Then no. Brother Chu's schedule is packed. Even though our team revolves around him, he's the busiest. He doesn't have time to work out."
"Holy Mother Mary, this isn't scientific." Morton was baffled. Eating like this daily wasn't just a matter of healthy dieting—it required at least four hours of cardio to avoid weight gain.
Yet without exercise, Chu Zhi should have been gaining weight. Instead, when Morton saw him, he was practically skinny. Outwardly, Morton said nothing, but inwardly, he refused to believe it: "We must believe in science."
While Chu Zhi's career progressed smoothly under his team's management, things were chaotic over at Wanda's film department. Producer Wang had scheduled a meeting with Chu Zhi at 3 PM to discuss the promotional song, but by 4:30 PM, the director still hadn't shown up.
So where was the director?
"How much longer will this traffic jam last?" Gao Wang urged the driver impatiently.
"There's a fender bender ahead, Director Gao. Hard to say."
Gao Wang, Fan Dazhong, and Lu Guozhu were the three towering figures of Chinese cinema in this parallel world—the most internationally recognized Chinese directors.
(For context, Fan Dazhong, this world's equivalent of a certain famous director, peaked early and then declined, his films growing increasingly obscure. Strictly speaking, only Gao and Lu were still at the top of their game.)
"Why does this happen every time I'm in a hurry?" Gao Wang fumed. This was the third time this year he'd been stuck in traffic due to a collision.
The driver trembled, not daring to speak. Shouldn't you be reflecting on yourself instead?
Gao Wang called Producer Wang to apologize for the delay and asked him to send over the promotional song first.
A car wasn't the best place to appreciate music—it was noisy and distracting—but for a promotional song, the environment didn't matter too much.
It wasn't that Gao Wang looked down on top celebrities. On the contrary, he believed anyone who achieved fame must have their strengths, even if he didn't understand them.
At 65, Director Gao still made one movie a year, thanks to his relentless drive.
He considered promotional songs different from theme songs—the former just needed to be catchy and decent to pass.
Producer Wang sent over the track. "Listen to Mother's Words"—the title was straightforward.
Without headphones, Gao played it aloud. The cheerful piano intro began:
"Kid, do you have a lot of questions?
Why do others read comics while I learn to draw,
Talking to the piano?
Others play games, but I lean against the wall,
Reciting my ABCs..."
"Hmm?" Gao Wang wasn't a fan of rap, but the chorus caught his attention.