Chapter 87: Competition with Utada Hikaru

Zhou Yi got out of bed, switched on a flashlight, and scanned the room carefully with his eyes—but couldn’t find a single camera; his bewildered expression made Xiao Yaxuan, still under the covers, burst into laughter.

“Relax, there are so many paparazzi in Hong Kong—eventually one of them will stumble onto something. You know how many eyes are on you right now.”

After lazily stretching, he got up, teasing her as he picked up the clothes scattered on the floor and tossed them aside: “Luckily, we had Yanzi and Shaohan join us for dinner last night, or else my phone would’ve been blown up by my teacher by now.”

“I just don’t have much faith in the integrity of Hong Kong paparazzi.”

He tossed the flashlight onto the sofa and stood up, yawning: “These guys don’t hold back when they’ve got a chance.”

They’ll sneak photos, spy, record—there’s nothing they won’t do.

Even if they get arrested, it won’t last long, and they can still sell the material for a profit.

“This is a luxury hotel—if they could break through security this easily, what would the reputation even be?” Xiao Yaxuan, who hadn’t yet experienced the terrifying reach of Hong Kong paparazzi, clearly didn’t take it seriously.

Besides, we’ve got Sun Yanzi and Zhang Shaohan here to take the heat—if the media exaggerates, it’s still baseless fabrication.

At the same hotel, Sun Yanzi and Zhang Shaohan suddenly sneezed the moment they stepped out.

When they were invited to attend the Coca-Cola signing ceremony, they’d both booked the same hotel.

Sun Yanzi was assigned by Warner, Zhang Shaohan came along as a companion to her good friend Sun Yanzi; as for Xiao Yaxuan, she was here solely for Zhou Yi.

Thus, due to their joint support for Zhou Yi, the three—each currently blazing hot in Taiwan’s music market—rarely appeared together publicly in Hong Kong.

Zhang Shaohan and Sun Yanzi were fine—they were already close friends off-camera, so joint shots were easy to find—but all three together? That was truly rare.

After all, Xiao Yaxuan’s connection with the two was still mostly based on shared solidarity in supporting Zhou Yi; they were just good friends, not yet sisters.

“The Coca-Cola ceremony is tomorrow afternoon. Many of your fans will be admitted—here’s the event schedule.”

After breakfast, since they belonged to the same company, Qian Jiang, as Zhou Yi’s agent, simply brought Sun Yanzi along to sit in on the planning.

“Also, Yi, here’s a list of people who’ll be attending tonight’s banquet to support you—you’d better memorize their names so you don’t fail to recognize them.”

As he spoke, Qian Jiang tossed a file into Zhou Yi’s lap.

Hearing this, Sun Yanzi immediately leaned over curiously—the first big name on the list was Jackie Chan.

“Wait, why is Jackie Chan here? Isn’t he the spokesperson for another cola brand? Doesn’t it seem odd for him to show up at Coca-Cola’s signing ceremony?”

At the sight of the name, Sun Yanzi blinked and turned to Qian Jiang: “Could Coca-Cola be trying to poach Jackie Chan?”

“Jackie Chan’s original cola endorsement…”

Here, Qian Jiang’s expression turned peculiar: “Fenhuang Cola is on the verge of bankruptcy this year—it can’t possibly renew his contract.”

Sun Yanzi: “...”

Zhou Yi couldn’t help laughing out loud.

Thinking he was mocking her, Sun Yanzi shot him a sideways glance: “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing. Just remembered something funny.”

He coughed twice, fist pressed to his lips, trying to suppress his laughter—but his lips still kept curling upward: “You’ve been in Singapore, so you probably don’t know Fenhuang Cola.”

“It’s a Chinese domestic cola brand. In 1998, it was at its peak—and they signed Jackie Chan as their spokesperson back then.”

“Now? If it doesn’t go bankrupt, that’s already a success.”

Sun Yanzi’s eyes widened: “That bad?”

“What else did you expect?”

The nickname “Spokesperson Killer” isn’t just a joke.

Though it’s tongue-in-cheek, from a modern perspective, Jackie Chan’s endorsements really do seem to carry a touch of mysticism.

“When Pepsi signed Xie Tingfeng, they pulled out all the stops—they brought in Zhang Guorong, Wang Fei, Liu Dehua, all their spokespeople.”

“So Coca-Cola had to bring in Jackie Chan as their big name to counter them—they probably hoped to sign him too.”

“But isn’t Jackie Chan filming a movie?”

Sun Yanzi was confused.

How could he leave filming to attend an event?

“His crew had an injury, and the American side is dragging its feet—he’s using this chance to take a break.” Qian Jiang summed it up plainly; both instantly understood.

“Also, as a welcome gift, Coca-Cola has joined the PR campaign. You now qualify to compete for a spot on the soundtrack of ‘Rush Hour 2.’”

Qian Jiang’s tone was cheerful as he added: “The production team has agreed to your inclusion, but you’ll have to compete with Japan’s Utada Hikaru for the soundtrack slot.”

“The production team will decide which song—yours or Utada Hikaru’s—is more suitable for the soundtrack.”

There are only so many slots on a soundtrack; adding Zhou Yi means removing someone else—after all, ‘Rush Hour 2’ isn’t a musical.

Since the only two Asians competing for the soundtrack slot are Zhou Yi and Utada Hikaru, the production team will naturally pick one—based purely on merit.

“What about the script? Without a script or plot, how can I write a song?” Zhou Yi frowned.

Qian Jiang said nothing—only pointed to the list in his hand.

Zhou Yi understood—Jackie Chan.

…………………………………………………………………………

Meanwhile, in Tokyo, Japan.

As EMI Japan’s hottest female singer, Utada Hikaru, preparing to promote her new album, received a strange message from her agent.

Her music for Jackie Chan’s new film had been challenged.

“Hikki, what’s wrong?”

A friend noticed her mood shift and asked.

“Nothing. Sorry, I need to head back to the company.”

Confused, Utada Hikaru rushed to the office and found her agent: “What happened? Weren’t we almost done negotiating?”

“Well, Warner China has another young singer—just like you—competing for the soundtrack of Jackie Chan’s movie.”

Her agent’s tone was equally resigned: “And his company is Warner—they have connections no weaker than EMI’s, and Coca-Cola is helping too.”

“A young singer? Who?”

“We don’t know his English name yet. His Chinese name is Zhou Yi.”

“Zhou… Yi?”

Utada Hikaru murmured the name in her peculiar Japanese accent, frowning slightly.

Her agent nodded: “He’s young like you, but he was born in 1981—two years older than you.”

ps: Came back a bit late, no big deal.

ps2: Two more chapters—I’ll finish them and post together, around midnight~

(End of Chapter)