No Rival Left

The Sunriver Entertainment Group sent word, asking if Chu Zhi needed any songs. Chu Zhi turned them down.

By his math, even if he released an album every year for thirty years, that would only be about 300 songs. Considering the global Chinese music top 500, that's barely scratching the surface. Not to mention, if he planned to break into the Western market, he'd need at least a few dozen English songs too. Think Queen, The Beatles, Michael Jackson, Bob Dylan—there were too many legends to even list.

More importantly, any songs submitted by the company wouldn't have his name on the copyright. That made it meaningless to him.

"Hey, Chu-ge, Chu-ge, I've got something to tell you!"

Just as Chu Zhi exited the quarterly meeting and reached the elevators, he heard someone calling from behind. It was a contracted streamer named July Rookie.

[Niu Jiangxue had sent him a message half an hour ago: the streamer was doing a promotional piece with the Beijing tax bureau and would soon pretend to discuss 'legal tax avoidance' on camera.]

The tax bureau knew full well it was staged. But they needed the appearance of hidden footage to drive their point home. The goal was to show that even under surveillance, celebrities promote proper tax behavior. Chu Zhi was chosen for two reasons: he was the top mainland star, and his public image was stellar.

The man before him had slightly uneven eyes. Chu Zhi remembered a rhyme he made up to recall the guy's name: "Uneven eyes, one round one flat, a punch to the face, it bruises like that... Teng Qing!" He remembered clearly now. From Biancheng, Kaifeng.

"Teng Qing, what is it?" Chu Zhi turned around.

Teng Qing was stunned. They'd only met once, about two months ago, when he begged for a photo and casually mentioned his name. Never did he imagine the superstar would remember.

"You still remember me?"

"Of course. Didn't we have a good chat back then? And didn't you say you'd bring me some local peanut cake from Kaifeng? Still haven't gotten it, by the way," Chu Zhi smiled. He could recall almost everyone who introduced themselves to him, not from great memory, but from linking names with features through rhymes and cues.

Peanut cake... Teng Qing had said that offhand. The status gap between a streamer and a top celebrity was just too wide. It wasn't that he didn't want to give it, he just thought it was out of place. Yet, Chu Zhi remembered.

For a moment, the feeling of being valued surged through him.

"Ahem, I'll get you some right away." Teng Qing suddenly didn't know how to proceed. After all, technically, he was here to deceive.

"Since you remember me so well, I'll be honest. Chu-ge, do you have any issues with taxes?" Teng Qing pulled him into a stairwell and whispered.

He had a hidden mic in his collar, and a concealed camera was already rolling.

"Taxes? No issues. I pay what's due."

Teng Qing clenched his teeth, steeling himself. "Taxes are too high in the industry, but I know a way to legally, reasonably avoid them."

Seriously? Chu Zhi thought his acting was awful. Not everyone could pull off the seamless delivery of an acting emperor.

"Legal avoidance? Like switching nationalities, shadow contracts, or rerouting income by becoming your own intermediary agency?" Chu Zhi rattled off calmly.

"Uhh—" Teng Qing froze. That wasn't in the script. Also, saying it all out loud made it sound real, which wasn't the point.

Chu Zhi continued, "Teng Qing, take it from me. You can't swim in waters this deep. Pay your taxes properly."

"Is legal tax avoidance really legal? Sure, we can take advantage of government-approved deductions, but don't go looking for what wasn't offered. Who doesn't want more money? But if we all avoided taxes, what would happen to our firefighters?"

"Huh?" Teng Qing was lost.

"I wrote a song called 'The Lone Brave One.' But firefighters aren't the only ones. We have police, medics, soldiers... If we dodge taxes, who protects them?"

He added, "Better file those back taxes while you still can. Don't go down the wrong path." Then, Chu Zhi posed a final question. "Do you know why Africa has sixty-two countries but barely any celebrities or entertainment industry?"

"Because they're poor? No developed cultural industry?" Teng Qing answered instinctively.

Chu Zhi said nothing more and left.

Teng Qing stared blankly for a while before checking his livestream chat. Comments flooded in:

"We weren't born in peaceful times, but in a peaceful country." "War zones ruin culture." "I just listened to 'The Lone Brave One.' Powerful stuff." "This idol really has his head on straight."

He had known it was staged, yet Chu Zhi's delivery made him almost believe he didn't.

There was no lecturing, just firm, grounded logic.

Outside Sunriver's headquarters, Chu Zhi mentally reviewed the whole interaction. The performance had a small flaw—the other actor didn't sell it. Still, he had no intention of skirting taxes. Why would he, when he had a system that guaranteed increasing income?

"At this pace, I should be the highest-earning star this year. Five months in, I've made about 270 million yuan. Probably also paying the most in taxes."

Chu Zhi, also serving as the ambassador for public safety and fire services, had once again pleased the tax bureau. His words so closely aligned with the national messaging around integrity and legal compliance that they reposted the video, a silent endorsement.

People in the industry were baffled. Most top stars got publicly criticized by state media. But Chu Zhi? Constant praise. The tone felt... off.

But that's how good reputation works. It's built one positive mention at a time. Chu Zhi was quietly forging a shield of goodwill.

Another day passed.

"My God, I swear I'll take my size 42 shoes and kick you! Look at what you pulled—where's the opera vocal style we discussed?!"

Once again seized by a sudden impulse, Chu Zhi used a bathroom break before an event to try his luck on the system's lottery. Last time, he'd won the Angelic Gospel voice, which was amazing.

He washed his hands first.

The prize pool had two items he wanted:

[Special Grand Prize: Mei Lanfang Opera Vocal Style]

[Advanced Mastery: Popular Opera Techniques]

Mei Lanfang was a titan of his era. Winning that plus the body of Farinelli? That would be a terrifying combination. Even Chu Zhi was a little scared of what that would make him.