Chapter 68: Sun Nan Presents the Award, Shrimp and Pork Heart

Under the gaze of the entire audience, guests, and cameras, Zhou Yi casually exchanged a high-five with Sun Yanzi and Cheng Hao beside him, then left his seat after embracing his parents.

Striding forward with head held high, his tall figure loomed especially imposing under the theater’s lights.

“Congratulations, Zhou Yi.”

Zhu Xun, appearing tonight as the CCTV host representative, personally handed the man a trophy shaped like a satellite and offered her sincere congratulations.

The other two hosts, Wu Dawei and Ke Lan, also applauded for him.

“Thank you, Sister Zhu Xun.”

Stepping naturally into the spot Zhu Xun and Ke Lan had vacated, Zhou Yi lowered his head slightly, one hand gripping the trophy, the other tilting the microphone upward.

“Thank you to CCTV, thank you to Channel V, and thank you, Sister Zhu Xun, for presenting me this award.”

After going through the usual thanks to the organizers including CCTV, Zhou Yi pursed his lips, gazed at the music industry giants seated below, and felt something strangely surreal: “Of course, I also thank my fans for your support and love—thank you.”

Though he wanted to be cheeky, he knew this was his first time here, so he forcibly suppressed the urge to crack a joke.

In the early 2000s, on CCTV’s turf, as a newcomer he still had to play it straight—there were plenty of officials seated below.

His fans who had bought tickets, however, were ecstatic in the audience, especially after seeing Zhou Yi wave the trophy toward them—their cheers shook the hall.

This was Zhou Yi’s first award since his debut.

At nineteen, in traditional Chinese perception, he was still a boy.

Young and already famous.

Standing bathed in light, Zhou Yi’s smile blazed, his youthful vigor so dazzling even Hong Kong’s top idols would have nodded and called him a handsome lad.

A dashing young man.

The senior CCTV leaders below were also deeply satisfied.

Look at his build, his bearing, his face—who says the mainland can’t match Hong Kong and Taiwan?

CCTV launched this mainland pop award largely because Hong Kong and Taiwan’s awards were too dominant, with an unspoken rule excluding or discriminating against mainland singers.

In the previous six editions, though winners seemed self-congratulatory, they were still mainland awards—offering mainland singers a warm consolation.

But Zhou Yi’s sudden emergence caused the mainland artists’ prestige at this seventh annual Billboard China Awards to skyrocket exponentially.

After stepping down with the trophy, Zhou Yi let his beaming parents hold it for a while before sitting back down, watching Zhu Xun and Ke Lan announce the winner of the second Most Popular Song award—Cai Yilin from Taiwan.

But she didn’t get Zhou Yi’s extravagant opening speech treatment—she simply said her name, then moved straight to the next award.

After announcing three Most Popular Song awards, the two winners besides Zhou Yi headed backstage to prepare for their performances.

“Strange, why don’t you have to prepare for a performance?”

As the lights dimmed and Cai Yilin, wrapped in a blue cotton coat, performed her sweet, award-winning song on stage, Cheng Hao leaned close to Zhou Yi’s ear and whispered in confusion.

“Qian Jiang told me my performance slot isn’t at the opening—it’s in the middle, with Wang Lihong and Xie Tingfeng.”

In the darkness, Zhou Yi subtly pointed toward two groups not far from him.

Cheng Hao instantly understood.

One was a singer representative from Taiwan, the other from Hong Kong—they hadn’t performed yet, so Zhou Yi, their ace, couldn’t be revealed too early.

“How many awards do you have tonight?”

“I don’t know—I’m definitely getting Most Popular Song and Best New Artist, and the Best Mainland Creative Singer award should go to no one but me.”

Zhou Yi counted on his fingers, whispering with his hand over his mouth: “The only variable is theoretically the award originally meant for Sun Nan.”

As he spoke, his gaze slipped toward Sun Nan, seated just ahead of him.

Hearing this, Cheng Hao was astonished: “You’re winning that many? This is your first time here!”

In mainland China’s seniority-based culture, wasn’t Zhou Yi’s momentum a bit against the norm?

How many veteran mainland singers still relied on this award to build their reputation?

“Qian Jiang said he was shocked when he got the committee’s notice—he guesses it’s because Xie Tingfeng’s explosive popularity after the Spring Festival Gala stirred up mainlanders tired of Hong Kong and Taiwan’s privileged treatment, and I’m the only mainland singer this half-year who can match him.”

Sun Nan may be strong, but he’s old.

Look at the young male singers Hong Kong and Taiwan are pushing—they’re all in their twenties; look how big Xie Tingfeng has become.

Sun Nan, an old-timer, meddling in the mainland scene only brings shame, especially since he can’t even beat Xie Tingfeng.

All he can do is bully his own people—making him look even worse.

Considering Zhu Xun’s special introduction of him at the opening, Zhou Yi had begun to sense something.

But whether his guess was right would depend on how many awards he actually won.

The facts proved Zhou Yi’s hunch was partly correct.

“Best New Artist: Sun Yanzi.”

“Best New Artist: Zhou Yi!”

After sitting for less than twenty minutes, Zhou Yi heard his name again from Zhu Xun’s lips—and to his surprise, the presenter was none other than mainland’s top male singer, Sun Nan?

Wasn’t he here to collect an award?

Why was he presenting one?

“Congratulations, Zhou Yi—you did great.”

“Congratulations, Sun Yanzi.”

Sun Nan, who appeared approachable, smiled warmly as he personally handed the two Best New Artist trophies to the two newcomers.

“Thank you, Brother Sun Nan.”

Zhou Yi glanced subtly toward Liu Huan, seated calmly below, and murmured his thanks.

This was interesting.

In previous editions of this ceremony, even if someone was presenting, it should’ve been an elder like Liu Huan—someone no longer in the pop music arena.

Sun Nan was still in his prime—why was he relegated to the presenter’s seat this year?

Sun Yanzi, holding tonight’s only trophy, didn’t know what Zhou Yi and Sun Nan were thinking—she happily thanked him and headed backstage to prepare for her performance.

Zhou Yi had barely sat down after stepping offstage when, shortly after Sun Yanzi’s performance, his name echoed again from the stage—

Wu Zongxian, alongside presenters Zhang Yimou and Tang Jili, presented him another award.

“Best Music Video Album: ‘Love Heaven, Love Earth,’ Leon Lai. Congratulations, Leon Lai!”

“Best Music Video Album: ‘Flower Field Mistake,’ Zhou Yi! Congratulations, Zhou Yi!”

Zhou Yi took the trophy from the still-smooth-faced Zhang Yimou and stared out at the sea of faces below, unsure what to say.

CCTV was clearly going all out to polish his image.

Sure enough, after he stepped down with his third trophy of the night, about twenty minutes later, he was called back up.

“Best New Generation Creative Singer: Wang Lihong.”

“Best New Generation Creative Singer: Xie Tingfeng.”

“Best New Generation Creative Singer—let’s congratulate Zhou Yi!”

The audience, confused and ecstatic, nearly screamed themselves hoarse.

Sun Nan, clapping below, wore a professional smile, but clenched his teeth tightly, his eyes dimming.

From the moment he learned he’d be a presenter tonight, all hope had vanished—his former glory on stage no longer belonged to him.

Having him personally hand Zhou Yi the New Artist award was the official gesture to preserve his last shred of dignity—as a senior.

Fuck.

You stole my resources, now you’re stealing my position!

You’re only nineteen—what’s your rush?!

Sun Nan seethed with resentment, yet faced with Zhou Yi’s overwhelming momentum, he had no resistance at all.

He could only retreat in disgrace, becoming a spectator clapping from the sidelines.

January 17, 2001, 9:30 p.m.

The position once symbolizing the mainland music industry’s top male artist was officially transferred from Sun Nan’s hands to Zhou Yi’s—

“Seventh Annual Global Chinese Music Billboard Awards: Most Popular Male Singer—Zhou Yi!!!”

With his album “Zhou Yi,” Zhou Yi won five trophies tonight—Most Popular Song, Best New Artist, Most Popular Male Singer, Best Music Video Album, and Best Creative Singer—and in this night, he completed his final transformation.

Nineteen-year-old Zhou Yi, bathed in light, walked past Sun Nan, Na Ying, Tengger, Yu Quan, and Pu Shu, under the gaze of his parents, Sun Yanzi, and Cheng Hao, and officially crowned himself the new king of mainland music.