The members of the band Riding Pigs to Fly were all skinny, especially the drummer. His wrists were so thin they looked like twigs, yet he hammered on the drums with such force it made one worry his bones might snap at any moment.
"They're all so skinny. Shouldn't they be called Riding Monkeys to Fly instead?" Zhou Yiyu muttered under his breath, then shifted his gaze toward the newcomers waiting at the edge of the stage area.
"The King's Game band… is it the same King's Game I know?"
The mention instantly perked Zhou Yiyu up. He had just played that game a few days ago at KTV.
Each band was given half an hour to perform at the Strawberry Music Festival, including audience interaction. Big-name artists, however, often had either very short or very long sets.
The opening band more than fulfilled its job of warming up the crowd, and the square was buzzing with energy.
Even though many in the audience from Japan, Korea, and Vietnam couldn't understand Chinese lyrics, festivals were about atmosphere. So when Riding Pigs to Fly's fourth song drifted off-key, it didn't dampen the mood one bit.
As people often said, live performances and recorded CDs were completely different experiences.
Take one Earth band's classic, Young.For.You. That song was only good live if it was a little off-pitch.
"I really like their song Back to School," Zhou Yiyu thought to himself. Then it suddenly hit him. Where was his idol? Why hadn't he appeared yet?
Mirror's performance was already over, and Looking Up was onstage.
To be honest, Looking Up's live energy wasn't as strong as Riding Pigs to Fly's. Despite their frail appearance, the latter's performance was infectious. Fans even fondly nicknamed them the Four Monkeys of Flower-Fruit Mountain.
"Why hasn't Chu-san come yet?" Ojima Matsushika was so anxious he practically scratched his ears.
His impatience was no different from that of the three thousand foreign fans who were waiting.
Some had checked the festival schedule, but their idol still hadn't appeared. It was enough to make one pull their hair out.
After five bands had performed, a stir broke out near the north entrance. The Emperor Beast had arrived.
Of course, Chu Zhi never traveled with a huge entourage of bodyguards. He kept things low-key, wearing just a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
Even without fanfare, he had come to stand on this stage, ready to light up the night.
But even with his cap and hoodie, staff members quickly recognized him. The commotion wasn't from fans, but from the festival's volunteers.
To cut costs, the festival relied heavily on volunteers for ticket checks, drink sales, service desks, photography, autograph booths, and backstage work.
"Jiu-yé, this way. I'll guide you," called out Ling Zinan, who had spotted his idol from three hundred meters away.
It couldn't be helped. Chu Zhi was like a firefly in the night, impossible to miss.
Ling Zinan was a clever one. He had resold a ticket for 19 million Vietnamese dong, nearly 5,500 yuan. More than two thousand foreign fans had scrambled for tickets, and over a thousand had paid inflated prices just to get in.
And as luck would have it, Ling Zinan had also landed a volunteer slot in the [Performer Reception Group]. First lucky at the Orange Festival, then lucky again here—truly blessed.
"Thank you," Chu Zhi said politely.
"Hehe, no trouble at all, no trouble! Being able to guide Jiu-yé is my greatest honor." Ling Zinan replied eagerly, impressed all over again at how grounded and humble his idol was.
Within moments, nearly the entire reception group jogged over. If not for assigned roles keeping them in check, even more volunteers would have swarmed around him.
After signing a few autographs for the volunteers, Chu Zhi finally made it to the waiting area.
"Brother Jiu, long time no see."
"This way, brother Jiu."
"Professor Chu."
"I'm also a fan of Professor Chu."
In an instant, everyone there, whether they knew him personally or not, stood up to greet him.
"Da Di, stop playing Honor of Kings. Chu Zhi's here," whispered Xi Gao of the Sour Grapes band.
"What? Chu Zhi? Wait, my Cai Wenji is about to get a pentakill—don't panic, don't panic." Da Di kept his head down, jabbing at his phone screen like pressing harder would unleash stronger attacks.
Their normally quiet teammate Mi Po yanked him up. Even Sour Grapes themselves didn't understand why they felt so nervous, only that it seemed everyone else was standing, so not doing the same felt out of place.
"Hello, brothers and sisters," Chu Zhi greeted warmly. In truth, ninety-nine percent of the people there were older than him. The youngest performer was Fresh Blood's vocalist, Zhibu Bai, born in 2000.
Many familiar faces were there—Looking Up, Gu Beisheng, and Zhou Yiyu waved him over to sit with them.
As time passed, more artists approached to exchange contact information, eager to connect with him.
"This is nerve-wracking," Da Di muttered after losing his match. He glanced sideways at Chu Zhi. The biggest star of the festival, maybe even all of Asia, was sitting right next to him. What shocked him most was that Chu Zhi looked even better in person than in photos.
"So those people online weren't exaggerating," Da Di murmured.
"Anyway…" Mi Po waited until both teammates turned toward him before asking, "Did Cai Wenji get that pentakill?"
Da Di fell silent. Not only had he missed it, their crystal had been destroyed too.
By the time Gu Beisheng went onstage as the sixth performer, the waiting area was much emptier. Sour Grapes, King's Game, Zhibu Bai, Cao Meng, and Zhou Yiyu were left behind.
At the Strawberry Music Festival, solo performers usually sang three songs. Even with shorter sets, the sheer number of invited guests meant an afternoon wasn't nearly enough to fit everything.
Like other major festivals—Fuji Rock, Wacken Open Air—Strawberry had multiple stages. This city's venue had three: "Love Strawberry," "Sky," and "Fresh Blood Project." Chu Zhi was scheduled for the Sky Stage, where most of the Little Fruits were gathered.
Chu Zhi arrived in the waiting area at 6:15 p.m., with his performance set for 7:30. He hadn't come hours early like Gu Beisheng, but considering how tightly packed his schedule always was, it showed genuine effort.
When 7:20 came, Chu Zhi stood, lifted his black thermos, and gulped down several mouthfuls of water.
What defines a superstar? The answer was in those few minutes as he walked toward the stage.
The crowd erupted. Everyone knew who was coming.
"Jiu-yé!"
"Brother Jiu!"
"Professor!"
"Ragdoll!"
"Count!"
Though chaotic, the shouts boomed like thunder.
The waiting area could hear it. The other two stages could hear it too.
This—this was what popularity meant.
Even Zhou Yiyu was stunned. Chu Zhi hadn't stepped on stage yet, and the cheers were louder than when most singers were actually performing.
Artists who had already finished their sets stayed behind, unwilling to miss the moment.
One spectator, Xiao Gang, frowned. He stood near the front, but the shrieks around him were so piercing it felt like pigs squealing in trucks on their way to slaughter.
Too loud. Not just for his ears, but for his very eyes.
Then Chu Zhi spoke. "It's been a while since I've been on stage. Let me sing for you tonight."
He wasted no time on small talk. The screen lit up behind him: his first song, Wind Blows the Wheat Fields.
The Little Fruits below burst with excitement. This was the very first song Chu Zhi had written after returning to music, lyrics and composition both his own.
"Wind Blows the Wheat Fields! So nostalgic."
"I used to have this song as my ringtone."
"Three years. It's been three years since we heard him sing it."
Two Little Fruits at the scene, Yaoke and Zoumafu, posted their excitement online under their fan accounts.
Foreign fans, though, didn't understand the fuss.
"Is this song Wind Blows the Wheat Fields really that special?" Yoon A asked Yaoke in English.
"Typical Korean fan," Yaoke thought. "Only here for the looks". She didn't explain much, just said, "This song shows the true beauty of Brother Jiu's voice."
"The beauty of his voice?" Yoon Ya didn't quite get it. Wasn't his voice always good?
🎵"Beneath the distant blue sky,
Golden waves of wheat rise and fall.
That place was once where you and I
Loved each other most of all…"🎵
The melody carried beauty even across language barriers. Yoon A couldn't understand the words, but she felt the serenity within them.
Then came the humming. The perfect voice, blended with the air of an immortal wine, soared higher.
🎵"Mmm mmm mmm—
La la la la—"🎵
At first, Chu Zhi had believed his voice was plain, nothing special. But with the gift of Farinelli's timbre, his vocals became delicate, textured, and unforgettable. Back then, even with less refined technique, he had captivated audiences. Now, years later, the effect was overwhelming.
Humming was his most powerful weapon. The festival atmosphere, once buzzing with noise, turned tranquil and warm.
Little Fruits seemed to smell the cut wheat in the fields, hear the fragrance of rice, and see children rolling in clean grass with cats and dogs at their side.
Yoon A half-closed her eyes. The hums were like a massage for the ears. Now she understood why fans called him "Professor."
To listen was to know.
Even Xiao Gang, who had been grumbling inside, found his ears soothed.
"Chu Zhi's singing… it's far beyond anyone else's here," he admitted silently. His earlier irritation faded. From this live performance alone, Chu Zhi had proven himself.
Yes, his songs were good. His fans weren't just brainless after all.
To professionals, the difference was even clearer. His emotion, stage presence, subtle vocal mixing—all of it was simply on another level.
"As they say, the gap between people is greater than the gap between man and pig."
"If I could perform this steadily live, I'd feel fine throwing matches too."
"Aren't you throwing matches already?"
"Yes, but I don't feel fine about it."
Sour Grapes whispered among themselves.
Gu Beisheng, an experienced folk-pop singer, also recognized the weight in Chu Zhi's performance.
"I wonder if Brother Jiu will sing rock today," Zhou Yiyu said.
Rock.
And as if on cue, Chu Zhi announced his second song.
"Orphans of a Beautiful World."
===
"风吹麦浪" (Fēng Chuī Màilàng / Wind Blows the Wheat Fields), originally by Li Jian (李健).
"美丽世界的孤儿" (Měilì Shìjiè de Gū'ér / Orphans of a Beautiful World), originally by Pu Shu (朴树).