Chu Zhi had always wanted to build a reputation on Journey Among the Stars—not an image, but a truth: he read seriously and took notes every day. Now that he hadn't even finished high school, that academic detail no longer stained him—it earned respect instead.
Forum users were praising him:
"Despite major depression making focus nearly impossible, Chu Zhi still reads and takes notes. If he can, what excuse do we have?"
"Whether you like reading is personal, not disease‑related. I feel like trash now..."
One user, "Lonely White Hair," steered the conversation: "Let's skip the flattery—what I want to know is how Chu Zhi learned foreign languages so well. Any insiders?"
On Zhihu, where experts lurk under ordinary profiles, someone replied as an insider:
"I worked with brother Jiu on a music project—I'm a Singer‑Songwriter. We recorded late once, and I saw him translating Chinese into Japanese on the spot. No camera, just focused work. That might be a secret method."
Then "HuHu3" confirmed:
"When they filmed in Sapporo, he lost his Japanese book in an earthquake, bought The Tale of Genji, then translated it into Chinese using a Japanese dictionary. He learns by diving in—straight translation."
This sparked real enthusiasm. Chu Zhi's self‑taught brilliance resonated with many.
Meanwhile, the producers knew that episode 7—his performance at the St. Petersburg Cultural Forum—would swing public opinion back in his favor.
His sixth episode, co‑filmed with THT TV in Russia as China‑Russia Singer Gathering, had some controversial editing. Russian fans expected Aurora and Mikhail, but were surprised by how well Chu Zhi spoke Russian and sang. Some complained that his footage was cut short, and debate erupted online.
But in Japan, he was unstoppable. Eight days after its release, Sony Music reported Just a Little More Hope for the World sold 671,000 copies in its first week. That broke both the GZ boy band's weekly and monthly sales records—headline news.
Esteemed magazine Shukan Bunshun praised him as "a millennium‑rare music genius," comparing his gift to literary master Ryūnosuke Akutagawa. The article tied their sensitivity and shared struggles with melancholy.
Chu Zhi worried—Akutagawa died young. And he'd already earned 30 million RMB in album royalties within a week. He wondered why no other Chinese artists were following, and resolved that only a true "god album collection" could sustain such momentum.
His film When I Close My Eyes continued filming. Director Ozu Etsuji and crew made space in the shooting schedule whenever Chu Zhi was available—his presence outweighed the entire team's.
Actor Sora Taketake quietly admired him, recalling how he'd once felt invisible as a 25‑year‑old extra. Now, Chu Zhi was the Asian superstar everyone wanted to see.
At wrap, Old Qian teased, "Is acting fun?"
Chu Zhi replied, "You want something done well—it's never easy."
Old Qian smiled: "It'll be worth it. Director Wang Anyi's Eleventh Gentleman hasn't cast yet—I think you have a chance."
Chu Zhi paused—he hadn't heard anything for over a month and assumed he was out. Old Qian reassured him that big projects often take months to finalize.
Chu Zhi stood and resumed shooting—no wasted opportunity.
Domestic news turned urgent:
In the hospital, the monitor began beeping wildly.
Suddenly, alarms sounded. Medical staff rushed in. During chemotherapy, it was crucial for family to be present—Ai Yu's mother had been keeping vigil all night and dozed for a moment. Now she woke to her daughter slipping away.
Ai Yu's weak consciousness flickered. She smelled something comforting—brother Jiu's scent.
She heard him singing:
🎵 "My world is beautiful because of you—My sky stays bright because of you…" 🎵
Her mother gently asked the doctor if they could play the audio softly—to boost Ai Yu's will to live. The recording had come from Chu Zhi days earlier.
If Ai Yu couldn't hold on… Chu Zhi didn't want to think about it. That was why, after the late‑night show, he recorded this song.
Ai Yu registered the voice—that's the song he wrote for me. Her face brightened: "He said my tears and smile are more beautiful than roses…"
She tried to speak: "Mom, I'm… sorry. I didn't take care of you."
Tears streamed down her mother's face; since graduation, Ai Yu had promised to care for her.
"I made a wish on Orange Home app, guess what it is?"
"What is Orange Home?"
"An app. Brother Jiu made it for us. Guess my wish?"
"To find a handsome guy?"
"Of course! But mostly… to take care of you, Mom, so you can live well."
Memories filled the room. Ai Yu squeezed her mother's hand—but the monitor shrieked again.
No heartbeat.
"Give 0.5g epinephrine—again, 1g... prepare defibrillation."
HER heartbeat stopped.
===
To be honest… I cried several times while translating this novel. (〒﹏〒)
Most of the time, it was just a single tear rolling down my cheek—but this time… I broke down completely. I sobbed.
Maybe it's because I'm just a little too sensitive.
Maybe it's because I felt a deep, aching envy over Ai Yu's bond with her mother.
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
But when I typed the words: "Her heartbeat stopped."
…it felt like something shattered inside me.
My chest tightened, my heart ached, my head spun, and I struggled to breathe. (For the record, I do have a history of asthma, so that might've added to it…)
My tears wouldn't stop. My hands were ice-cold. I sat there shaking, unable to calm down.
And it took me over an hour just to calm down enough to even write this note (｡•́︿•̀｡)
This story touched a part of me that I didn't expect it to.
So thank you for reading it with me—even the painful, quiet parts that hurt more than they say aloud. (｡T ω T｡)