The members of Goodyear.Zeppelin were holding a brief but crucial internal meeting.
"Hyundai's safe driving endorsement," said Jo Kwon, the most popular member.
"HERA Highlighter endorsement," said Jung Min-ah, the main dancer.
"I was supposed to get Tomboy's autumn collection," said the youngest member, Lee Soo-hyun. "That Chinese bastard is like a bandit—he went to our country and started robbing us!"
"I might lose a small endorsement too," added the leader, Lee Joon-suk.
"Tae-hwan, what about you?" Jo Kwon asked the group's invisible man, Jang Tae-hwan.
"Uh… I don't have any endorsements being taken," Jang Tae-hwan said awkwardly.
"Oh right, I almost forgot—you barely have any endorsements to begin with," Jo Kwon sneered.
In this five-member group, Jang Tae-hwan might as well have been a filler member—the least popular, with the fewest fans. While the others had over a dozen endorsements each, he only had three or four.
Hyundai, HERA, and Tomboy had indeed been snatched up by Chu Zhi—but Tomboy's autumn collection hadn't even confirmed Lee Soo-hyun as their ambassador yet. He was just afraid of being left out if his hyungs all lost deals while he didn't, so he exaggerated and fabricated a claim.
As the leader and the oldest, Lee Joon-suk stepped in to stabilize morale: "Don't panic. The entertainment industry moves fast. How long can Chu Zhi stay hot just from a variety show? One or two months—that's the lifespan of these kinds of shooting stars."
Jo Kwon nodded. "He's already been popular for almost a month. His time is running out."
"Hmph! Once his hype dies, these brands will regret their decisions!" Lee Soo-hyun huffed.
Jo Kwon couldn't stand Lee Soo-hyun's overly dramatic tone.
Meanwhile, Jung Min-ah was already plotting—once Chu Zhi's popularity faded, he'd mobilize his fans on Cafe to attack. "What right does some Chinese idol have to come play in our country?"
Meanwhile, the team of that "some Chinese idol" had just landed a new deal.
"Ms. Niu, hello. I'm the translator assisting MBC's PD Myung Nam-jik. Would Chu Zhi be available for a collaboration discussion?"
Niu Jiangxue received a call from Seoul, answered by a man speaking fluent Mandarin.
"Collaboration? What kind?" Niu Jiangxue was confused. "The MV was sold, the money transferred—what else is there?"
Since the call had to go through a translator, the response was slow:
"The day after tomorrow, we'll air Understanding Chinese Stars: Special Edition, featuring Chu Zhi's MV masterpieces. We'd like to arrange a brief phone call with him during the broadcast—just a few minutes."
A phone call was no big deal, but given the history with these Koreans, Niu Jiangxue had to consider her artist's stance.
"Please call back in half an hour. This requires the artist's approval," she said before hanging up and heading to the set to find Chu Zhi.
The team was still in Zhangjiajie. Chu Zhi's scenes were simple—standing on a makeshift stage, lip-syncing, similar to his MV shoots. As long as he looked good, it was a wrap. With art director Liao Dachong overseeing things, the quality was guaranteed.
Chu Zhi's total screen time in the series was only about ten minutes. With a smooth production, it could be done in a day.
But the problem was—the crew wasn't stable.
After relentless pushing, Liao Dachong's "wedding dress performance" proposal had been flat-out rejected by the producer and director. "Glam rock? Fine. But a wedding dress? Too radical."
Liao Dachong was fuming, but Producer Sun Xi shut him down with three sentences:
"Who cares if real glam rock does this? TV dramas can't."
"If the censors block us for weird costumes, who takes responsibility?"
"Director Liao, if you can guarantee Chu Zhi in a wedding dress will pass broadcast review, then fine."
That shut him up. Even Liao Dachong couldn't promise that. For the next two days, he ranted about censorship—though his exact words aren't suitable for print.
Once the current scene wrapped, Niu Jiangxue briefed Chu Zhi on the MBC situation.
"Hmm… We've had a pleasant collaboration with MBC before. So sure—but they'll have to pay," Chu Zhi said without hesitation.
Normally, stars don't charge for quick phone-ins—only for pre-recorded video messages. So Niu Jiangxue pondered what to charge.
Seeing her hesitation, Chu Zhi suggested a number: "One million RMB. Can't make it too expensive."
"They only paid five million for the MVs—this is a steep ask for a stingy network."
"MBC publicly criticized me. It's not too much to make them pay, right?" Chu Zhi said.
"Got it." Niu Jiangxue couldn't help but smile. She'd almost forgotten—despite his gentle demeanor, Nine had a petty side too. Kind of cute.
A classic case of "halo effect." Because Niu Jiangxue already viewed Chu Zhi as extremely kind, even his pettiness seemed endearing.
When the Seoul call came again, Niu Jiangxue played hardball:
"I'm very sorry, but the schedule is packed these days. The artist may not have time for a call-in."
The translator this time wasn't Kim Jae-hee. MBC had plenty of Taiwanese staff, so Mandarin speakers weren't rare.
The translator, Xiao Gang, nervously relayed Niu Jiangxue's words, avoiding eye contact with Myung Nam-jik—afraid he might get slapped.
"No time?!" Myung Nam-jik's temper flared. He already hated working with a Chinese star, and now this?
"How can a few-minute call be impossible? Even a bathroom break would be enough time!" Clearly, they just didn't want to cooperate.
If not for his promise to VP Yoon, Myung would've walked out. Gripping a pen like a dagger, he forced himself to stay calm.
"Just five minutes—no, even three! Please, Chu Zhi must find the time," Myung said through gritted teeth, his tone murderous.
"I'm truly sorry. If the schedule weren't so tight, we'd love to help. But squeezing this in would disrupt other commitments. We really can't," Niu Jiangxue said, oozing fake regret.
Myung Nam-jik wasn't stupid—he was just rabidly anti-China (and also believed China and America should belong to Korea). So he instantly decoded Niu Jiangxue's subtext:
"Disrupting work means compensation. Bastards! Not an ounce of international cooperation spirit!"
Myung was practically gnashing his teeth, his pen creaking under his grip. He forced out:
"Ask them… how much Chu Zhi would lose for the 'disruption.'"
Xiao Gang translated. Niu Jiangxue replied sweetly:
"Oh, it's not about the money. It's just that these days, the artist is collaborating with Dior, Armani—top international brands. Any slip-ups could damage those relationships, and that's hard to quantify. But if you must put a number on it… one or two million RMB, at least."
Xiao Gang's scalp went numb. "That's 3 billion KRW! Are they insane?!"
When the translation reached Myung Nam-jik, his eyeballs nearly popped out.
"One or two million RMB… for a few-minute call?!"
This isn't a negotiation—it's a robbery!