Chapter 42

Forgot you exist

What are you expecting

Happiness, when you invite it, will surely come~

Rather than yearning for care, let’s shine together

Joy is contagious—be generous, Comeon!

A piercing female voice blared through the KTV room’s speakers; college students, high schoolers, and young professionals just entering the workforce paired off, inviting their crushes to sing duets or goofily battle each other.

Whether in love or heartbroken, follow me—dance and worship happiness

Whether happy or sad, follow me—this beautiful, sacred time waits for no one~

The dynamic melody, unforgettable chorus, and seamless rap fusion—

The release of “Happy Worship” added another inferno from the heavens to this scorching summer, sweeping across Taiwan’s KTVs, bars, and nightclubs—places frequented by youth—at a speed unimaginable to ordinary people.

Before this summer, hip-hop elements had never gained audience approval in the Chinese-language music scene; now they surged to become the ultimate symbols of fashion, the new millennium, and the latest trend.

“The World” and “Spring Flowers Will Bloom”? Those are relics for the older generation. Zhou Yi’s fresh album is what we, the new millennium youth, truly pursue!

Ren Xianqi? Zhang Xinzhe?

Zhang Xueyou? Liu Dehua? Guo Fucheng? Li Ming?

Old relics, it’s time to step down!

Faced with the older generation’s clear disdain for songs like “Happy Worship,” “My Microphone,” “Reverse the Earth,” and “Can’t Help Loving You,” young people ignited a fierce rebellious spirit—

Adults were bogged down by daily work hassles; students and young professionals still supported by family had no such burdens.

Unlike their parents, who barely understood the internet, they could swiftly find kindred spirits online, rapidly form “alliances,” and organically team up to boost streaming numbers and create momentum for their favorite songs.

Precisely because of this, Zhou Yi’s album spread widely at a pace far exceeding that of the old era—

In KTVs and song-request terminals, play counts soared to unprecedented heights;

In sales figures, CDs and cassette tapes led the market by a wide margin—even surpassing Sun Yanzi!

On July 10, the tenth day after the release of Zhou Yi’s album, he achieved a feat never before seen—

As a newcomer, all eleven tracks from his debut album landed in the top thirty of Taiwan’s quarterly charts: song rankings, KTV request lists, and radio play charts.

On Taiwan’s major radio station monthly play chart, Zhou Yi single-handedly battled the giants—

On July 12, “Can’t Help Loving You” surpassed Liu Ruo’s “Love You So Much” to rise to seventh place;

At 6 p.m. the same day, “Happy Worship” overtook Ren Xianqi’s “The World,” Liu Dehua’s “Forgetful Water” and “Love You Ten Thousand Years,” and Zhang Xueyou’s “She Came to Hear My Concert,” surging to third place;

July 14.

“Give Me a Song,” “I Love Only You,” and “My Microphone” defeated Zhou Hua’s “Spellbound,” Zhang Yu’s “The Moon Caused Trouble” and “Rain Keeps Falling,” ranking tenth, twelfth, and fifteenth respectively.

Zhang Xueyou’s “You’re So Poisonous” and Chen Huilin’s summer chart-topper “Better Than Dancing” were outright knocked off the charts by “It’s Me” and “Hate Dream of the Red Chamber.”

In just half a month, Taiwan’s entire industry was thrown into chaos.

What the hell monster did Warner unleash?!

We accepted Sun Yanzi’s breakout in June—she was strong in album sales, sure, but she never pulled off this kind of chart-sweeping domination; her only song that could challenge the kings and queens was “Dark Night.”

But this Zhou Yi—if you give him another half-month, will he take the entire monthly top ten with his full album?!

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Keep ramping up the marketing!”

July 15, Warner’s general manager’s office.

Beaming, Zhou Jianhui tugged at his tie and roared: “And stock up Zhou Yi’s album in batches toward a total of 350,000 copies—don’t be afraid, the market will absorb it all!”

In just fourteen days, two weeks, Zhou Yi’s album’s stellar reputation, propelled by the internet’s unique speed, became the biggest winner of the month, selling 160,000 copies.

That’s comparable to the numbers of music giants’ releases—only surpassed by a handful of freaks; as of now, Xie Tingfeng’s new album, the millennium’s most popular king, hadn’t even reached this figure.

The promotional power unleashed by the internet’s viral nature—word-of-mouth spreading from one to ten, ten to a hundred, a hundred to a thousand, a thousand to ten thousand—was simply terrifying.

One was a newcomer with nothing but rumors before debut; the other was a superstar beloved across the straits. Yet Zhou Yi, riding this internet wind, took off like a rocket.

One Sun Yanzi, one Zhou Yi—Zhou Jianhui didn’t know how to praise his own uncanny eye for talent anymore.

“Use Xie Tingfeng as the target. I want Zhou Yi to rise by stepping on Xie Tingfeng!”

After hanging up, Zhou Jianhui paused, then made up his mind and called marketing: “EMI used Xie Tingfeng to piggyback on Guo Fucheng last year. Now it’s time to settle the score—with interest.”

At the end of last year, Xie Tingfeng’s popularity exploded across half the region; EMI brazenly claimed he was the successor to the Four Kings, riding his wave to massive public attention.

Zhou Jianhui had held that grudge inside him for months—now was the time to pay it back.

As the first person to reap the benefits of this traffic surge, Zhou Yi, at the absolute center of Taiwan’s public discourse, truly felt how massive his fame had become.

When he went out to eat with Sun Yanzi, more people asked him for autographs than asked her.

The radio waves no longer carried only “Afterwards” and “The World”—even passing schools revealed students singing his songs: “Happy Worship,” “Can’t Help Loving You,” “My Microphone.”

He even saw a kid strumming a guitar on the playground, singing “I Love Only You” to a girl, moving her to tears—then successfully holding her hand.

“This is insane. This is truly insane.”

Exhausted from running promotional events arranged by Warner, Zhou Yi was utterly drained—especially his right hand.

His damn signature had nearly broken his wrist; now even holding a cup to drink made his hand tremble.

“It’s not time to rest yet, Zhou Yi.”

His manager, Qian Jiang, with his general’s belly, flipped through his schedule and looked at Zhou Yi, nearly sinking into the sofa, eyes closed, and said: “Grab this chance. Your album sales are now tied with Xie Tingfeng’s. Push harder, do more promotions—aim to surpass him.”

“I know. Let me rest a bit. I’m really tired. Wake me up later.”

For Zhou Yi’s energy and physical condition, being this exhausted proved just how intense his workload had been over the past half-month—luckily, the results were glorious.

Xie Tingfeng, who should have dominated July, was now completely overshadowed.

“Oh, one more thing—if any reporters ask you sensitive questions today, don’t fall for it, don’t answer. I’ll handle it for you. Understood?”

“Sensitive questions?”

Zhou Yi opened his eyes at the keyword, frowning: “What do you mean?”

“Some media outlet crunched your stats from the past half-month and gave you a shocking nickname today.”

As his manager, Qian Jiang constantly monitored Zhou Yi’s news—he pulled out the weekly magazine he’d just received from the company and handed it to him.

Zhou Yi, puzzled, reached out and took it—the first thing his eyes landed on was a massive headline—

“The Godslayer Zhou Yi! Will the Next Queen to Fall at His Feet Be Her?!”

What the hell is this over-the-top magazine?!

Zhou Yi stared, dumbfounded: “One Weekly.”

Then he relaxed.

On the full-color page, behind Zhou Yi’s portrait, a string of albums by Liu Dehua, Zhang Xueyou, Guo Fucheng, Li Ming, Zhou Hua, and even Ren Xianqi were photoshopped into cracked gray tones, shattered along the rocky path beneath his feet—

At the end of this thorny path beneath Zhou Yi’s feet sat Liu Ruo, enthroned on the throne of “Afterwards”!

“In just fourteen days, the legendary Four Kings of the past have all fallen;

“The heroic Ren Xianqi has lost his former might; the assassin Zhou Hua has lost his edge.

“This summer, a young man from the mainland descended from the heavens, representing the new force of Chinese-language music, charging against the older generation.

“As the last glory of the previous generation, can Queen Liu Ruo defend the throne of the old era against Zhou Yi’s relentless advance?!”

Below the full-color spread, the magazine included sales data from the day of release—

“Afterwards,” which had led the charts by a landslide for nearly half a year, faced its first challenger ever—

Zhou Yi, dragging a blade.