In the end, Chu Zhi decided not to attend the salon. Maybe it was something ingrained in his very DNA, but as New Year's Eve approached, he always wanted to return to China as soon as possible.
Before leaving, Mr. Aleksei mentioned that the original plan had been to gift him a fragment of the Kremlin's double-headed eagle as a keepsake.
At first glance, it looked like nothing more than an ordinary brick — and indeed, it was just a brick. But it carried history. The Kremlin was once the palace of the Tsar until 1935, when the double-headed eagle atop the palace's watchtower was taken down and replaced with a bright red five-pointed star. The fragments of the removed eagle had a special significance. In Russia, they were given as farewell gifts to nearly every outgoing ambassador before their return home.
The reason they eventually decided not to give Chu Zhi the brick was because the Cultural Bureau believed that the influence of Katyusha could continue to grow over time. They wanted to save the reward for later, choosing a more opportune moment.
Chu Zhi flew back to China on Air China. On the plane, he encountered a fan from South Korea. The fan wasn't overly excited, nor did they disturb others, but there was something oddly familiar about the way they looked at him… like the predatory stare of a hungry wolf in a nature documentary. The Emperor Beast felt uncomfortable under that gaze.
Fortunately, the fan didn't act out, and he arrived safely at Pudong Airport, where the studio's nanny van had been waiting. He got in and left immediately.
There were still a few events to wrap up before the year ended. Once those were done, the year's work would finally be complete.
Amid this busyness, My Love From the Stars reached its grand finale. After dominating Asia for two months, the drama finally came to an end. In that time, it had broken countless records. In South Korea, its last episode reached an astonishing 51.8% viewership, making it the country's first true national drama in over a decade.
SBS Television held a lavish celebration, the kind that seemed determined to announce its success to the entire world.
The female lead, Song Minghee, had undergone a transformation. Once a leading actress in South Korea, she had now stepped onto the international stage, winning glory for her country. Her status in the industry skyrocketed.
"It's a shame Teacher Chu Zhi isn't here," said Ryu Taeseok.
Director Gong Gil, perhaps giddy from the drama's success, replied, "We've helped Teacher Chu Zhi's popularity rise to a new level across Asia."
"That's not quite accurate," Ryu Taeseok countered. "Professor Baek, played by Teacher Chu Zhi, added at least seventeen points of heat to the drama's reception. If we'd cast a South Korean actor instead, it might have only reached fifteen points. We should be thanking Teacher Chu Zhi for his contribution."
"Teacher Ryu is too modest," Gong Gil said, sipping more red wine. Taking the opportunity, he invited Ryu Taeseok to collaborate again on a new drama.
This time, Netflix was fully funding the project. The profits from My Love from the Star had convinced them they'd found a winning formula.
However, because Chu Zhi's fee-sharing arrangement was too costly, they decided to film a new drama with the same cast and crew — except for Chu Zhi.
Netflix was willing to increase the investment, and after a few drinks, Ryu Taeseok asked who the new male lead would be.
"Jo Kwon, the main vocalist of boy group GZ," came the reply.
GZ had once swept across Asia, and Jo Kwon was the most popular member. He seemed like a perfect replacement for Chu Zhi, so Ryu Taeseok agreed to join the project.
Meanwhile, in Japan, the buzz was just as big. In Tokyo's Ginza district, fans had even rented a giant screen to display the message: [Farewell, Professor Baek].
The hashtag #MyLoveFromTheStarFinale topped online trends in fourteen countries across Asia. That was true influence.
"This is probably Jiu-yé's first and last TV drama," Old Qian remarked. "Given his status now, it's hard to imagine a TV script worth his time."
It was true. Unless something unexpected happened, Chu Zhi's team had no plans to return to television. The big screen was the goal, and film roles were the best match for his career.
Still, taking the occasional drama wouldn't hurt.
Time flowed quietly.
"See you next year."
"Sister Wang, take care of your chronic pharyngitis this winter. Avoid barbecue and similar foods."
"Don't work too hard these next few days. And on New Year's Eve, make sure you watch the Spring Festival Gala. I'll be performing."
"No business calls during the holiday. I don't want to hear about contracts or schedules."
Chu Zhi personally saw off each core member of his studio, everyone leaving in high spirits to spend the New Year with their families.
He stuck to the same philosophy he'd had for the past three years — miss a schedule or an endorsement, and it's gone. Miss time with family, and you lose a year you can never get back.
It could be said without exaggeration that among top stars, no one's management team took longer or earlier holidays than Chu Zhi's.
"Brother Qian, make sure to spend time with your family. You're getting married soon — don't make the same mistake as last year," Chu Zhi told the slower-moving Old Qian.
"Of course. I've already reformed for Bingbing. This year we're inviting both our parents to the courtyard she renovated, so the whole family can celebrate together. It's spacious and comfortable," Old Qian said with a wave. "Don't worry, Jiu-yé. I won't miss your Spring Festival performance. Even if the gala is terrible, I'll watch with Bingbing and bear it."
When Old Qian left, the once-bustling studio became peaceful. The Emperor Beast stretched lazily, enjoying the freedom.
He finished up some loose ends. Forget year-end bonuses — as a boss, the Emperor Beast was happy to hand out money. In his previous life, he'd have given bonuses every day if he could, because they meant the team had landed big projects.
In winter Shanghai, by six in the evening the sky was already caught between black and white, an oddly indecisive mood.
The phone rang. It was Da Bai.
After some small talk, Su Shangbai got straight to the point. "Brother Jiu, do you have plans for New Year's Eve? If not, come have dinner with me."
"You're not going home for the holiday?" Chu Zhi asked.
"Too exhausting — all the scheming and backstabbing," Su Shangbai said bluntly. "You can't even eat in peace. Money doesn't necessarily come with kindness, but it always comes with cunning."
"Family inheritance disputes?" The Emperor Beast thought of countless melodramatic dramas. As a first-generation wealthy man, he had never experienced that kind of thing.
From Su Shangbai's tone, things at home seemed even more complicated than expected.
"I don't have any plans," Chu Zhi said after thinking. "But I'll be on the Spring Festival Gala. My performance will end after nine, and then I'd have to fly back to Shanghai. I wouldn't make it before midnight."
"No need to fly back. I have a small place in Beijing," Su Shangbai replied. "We can have some food and drinks there to welcome the new year."
Chu Zhi had heard that the rich often bought property in whatever city they traveled to. Judging by Su Shangbai's tone, the rumors were true.
In his original world, he'd spent New Year's with his mother. In this parallel world, for the past two or three years, he'd spent it alone. Was it lonely? Hard to say. But spending it with a friend sounded nice.
"No problem, then. Da Bai, can you cook? I doubt there'll be any takeout on New Year's Eve," Chu Zhi asked.
"Cooking is one of my hobbies. I can make any standard home-cooked dish," Su Shangbai said casually.
"What about non-home-cooked dishes?" Chu Zhi asked curiously.
"Anything you'd get at a hotel or restaurant counts as home-cooked to me," Su Shangbai replied. "What do you like to eat? I'll shop for ingredients ahead of time, since the markets will be closed on New Year's Eve."
There was that familiar competitive streak. Chu Zhi answered without hesitation. "Tomato beef brisket and spicy-sour lemon chicken feet."
Then he added, "The chicken feet are a bit of a hassle. If you can't make them, it's fine."
"Both are easy," Su Shangbai said without missing a beat.
With their New Year's Eve plans settled, Chu Zhi went back to his work. It wasn't anything major — just checking over his earnings from the past year.
The My Love from the Star revenue share hadn't arrived yet, but last year's total was 150 million USD, a little higher than the year before. It almost placed him among the top ten highest-paid artists in the world.
"Next year, I'll keep working hard and earn more," Chu Zhi thought to himself.
Once everything was in order, he locked up the company. The building still had security guards on duty, working half-days.
Triple pay during the Spring Festival was too good to pass up, and the guards — including Xiao Ke — weren't about to miss out.
And before he knew it, New Year's Eve had arrived.