A Sudden Turn of Events

Wei Tongzi was the admin of the "Orange Revival" QQ group, a community for fans who had either rediscovered their love for Chu Zhi or were new to his fandom.

The moderators went by names like: Your Mom Tells You to Go Home and Eat Oranges, Queen of Western Chu, Diary of Loving Chu, and Just an Angel for Zhi0.

[Rewatched I Am a Singer again—I just want to hug Orange to my chest. He looked so tragically beautiful on stage. If the admin hadn't confirmed he's fine, I'd be worried sick.]

[Beautiful, strong, and tragic—our gege has proven himself. How could someone who sings with such emotion be a scumbag?]

[Exactly! There was never solid evidence, yet people judged him so quickly. I'm so done. I even bought a Mango TV membership just to rewatch his performance seven or eight times.]

[Orange looks so handsome no matter what he wears. When will Wind Blowing Through the Wheat Fields and Desert Island be released? I've searched QQ Music and NetEase Cloud so many times, but nothing's there.]

[I Am a Singer is partnered with KuGou, so it's only available there. By the way, why hasn't the admin shown up today?]

Normally, Wei Tongzi was very active, especially after the latest episode of I Am a Singer aired—the group had been buzzing like it was New Year's.

The reason for her silence was that she'd caught wind of some news. Unsure if it was true, she hesitated over whether to tell Chu Zhi.

It all started with her high-school cousin, a die-hard Lin Xia fan who'd always wanted to attend a live recording. But getting audience tickets was tricky, and Wei didn't want to owe favors, so she'd never agreed. However, after the Wind Blowing Through the Wheat Fields performance aired, her cousin became mesmerized by Chu Zhi's hummed melody and begged for tickets again.

Wei Tongzi immediately said yes over the phone, thinking: "If you like Chu Zhi, we're sisters from different parents." That same day, she secured tickets for the semi-finals. Did owing a favor matter? Not when it was for her sister from another mother.

The new episode was recorded the day after it aired. She couldn't get tickets for Desert Island, so the ones she secured were for the semi-finals. But yesterday, her cousin called to cancel and forwarded a message:

[*Dear audience member Zhuang Cheng, your scheduled attendance for the semi-finals of I Am a Singer Season 4 on October 19 has been canceled due to incorrect information submitted during registration. We apologize for any inconvenience caused.*]

Canceling tickets over "incorrect information"? Wei Tongzi sensed something off. After asking around, she learned that all 800 audience members had been replaced—no one knew why.

If it were just about vote manipulation, there was no need—the professional judging panel was enough. But Wei's feminine intuition told her something was up.

"What if it has nothing to do with my idol? Would he think I'm being paranoid?"

"And what if it just adds pressure and affects his performance?"

But… Wei's intuition had never been wrong before. Once, on her way home, she'd felt uneasy and decided to stay at a friend's place instead. That very night, her apartment building's floor caught fire due to a resident's electrical mishap.

Overthinkers tend to agonize over things they care about, while straightforward people wouldn't give it a second thought. Wei Tongzi wrestled with it all morning before finally calling Chu Zhi. She'd prepared a whole analysis of the show's unusual behavior, urging him to be cautious. But the moment he answered, her mind went blank.

"Sorry to bother you during your break, Teacher Chu. I just found out they replaced all 800 audience members for this afternoon's recording. Haha, I don't know if you were already aware…"

"Um… it's not a big deal, but our show usually doesn't do this."

Her words came out jumbled, but Chu Zhi grasped the key detail: last-minute audience replacement. His mind immediately jumped to Li Xingwei—when it came to underhanded tactics, he could think of four or five dirty tricks right away.

"Thanks, Tongtong. This is really helpful," Chu Zhi said, already strategizing.

"Haha, glad it's useful." Wei forced a lighthearted laugh, though she felt a pang of disappointment. She'd mustered so much courage, yet he didn't seem too concerned.

Just as she was about to hang up, Chu Zhi suddenly said, "I might need to change my song for the semi-finals."

"Now? There are only four or five hours left before recording!" Her voice rose slightly. "There's no time, and Music Director Liang even praised your rehearsal."

"What if I drink Pure Victory Organic Milk? Still not enough time?" Chu Zhi joked.

"Huh?" Wei didn't catch the humor.

"Just kidding." His tone turned serious. "I know it's a risk, but if I don't do this, I'll lose badly in the semi-finals."

"Teacher Chu, I'll support you." Wei's voice firmed. "I love your music, and I don't want you to be eliminated unfairly. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Could you coordinate with the band? I'll talk to the director right away."

Wei responded with two firm, nasal mm-hmms to show her resolve.

After quickly getting ready, Chu Zhi called the hotel concierge to arrange a ride. He needed to get to the Golden Eagle Building ASAP. On the way, he called director Meng Fan to request the song change.

Meng's first reaction was refusal. Last-minute changes meant adjusting the host's cue cards, stage lighting, and rehearsals—way too much hassle. Worse, rushing could lead to a performance disaster, something no director wanted.

"There are still some issues with What I Miss," Chu Zhi argued. "Against the Light will have a better impact."

After persistent insistence, Meng reluctantly agreed but urged Chu Zhi to hurry for rehearsal—the band at least needed time to familiarize themselves with the new arrangement.

Why the sudden change? Chu Zhi had already considered the worst-case scenario:

The 800 audience members were likely planted by Da Hua Entertainment—some to cheer for Li Xingwei, others to throw things at him during his performance. But damaging the show's reputation was a line I Am a Singer wouldn't cross.

That left only booing and a "black tide" (organized backlash). Imagine singing What I Miss in that environment—a classic love song drowned out by jeers. Even if broadcast, the intended effect would be ruined. Chu Zhi wasn't arrogant enough to think his vocals alone could overpower such hostility.

Switching to Against the Light—a song about breaking through darkness—was the answer. Not just that, he'd pour 90% Despair Voice into it, using despair itself to slash through the black tide.

Wait, wrong reference.

Against the Light was an uplifting anthem. Picture this: surrounded by a sea of boos, Chu Zhi would channel despair in his voice, sending a message of perseverance and positivity to his fans. What kind of spirit is this? He nearly moved himself with the thought.

A full 100% Despair Voice might be too depressing, so 90% was his limit. Just yesterday, the 50% version of Desert Island had reduced countless listeners to tears.

After the semi-finals aired, he'd release the evidence Su Shangbai had gathered—a full comeback in one strike!

Plans couldn't always keep up with changes, so Chu Zhi adjusted his strategy on the fly. Of course, if the audience swap turned out to be just the show's whim, so be it.

But he never liked leaving his fate in others' hands.

"Thanks, driver."

After paying via QR code, Chu Zhi arrived at a snack shop near the Golden Eagle Building. He avoided the main entrance to dodge lurking reporters or fans of Lin Xia and Li Xingwei.