Chapter Forty-Eight: Strawberry Music Festival (Double Edition)
Zhou Miao chose a cold beverage brand called Cute More, which has been a bestseller in the country for many years and enjoys a solid reputation. The offer they extended to Zhou Miao was ten million yuan for two years.
Given Zhou Miao’s current popularity, this price is somewhat low; the endorsement fees for trending celebrities in the industry are now astronomical. There exists a kind of hierarchy in the world of endorsements: top-tier stars are ranked above popular idols, who are above veteran actors and singers, who in turn are above ordinary performers. Times have changed—those with real talent can no longer compete with those who bring traffic. Nowadays, brands are not so much seeking endorsements as they are buying the influence and reach these celebrities possess.
This phenomenon is especially pronounced with fast-moving consumer goods brands, who seem to have gone mad signing top idols at exorbitant prices, pushing these artists’ value to heights far beyond their actual worth. The hottest stars in the circle now command endorsement fees of forty million yuan per year, and often even money isn’t enough; they scrutinize whether your brand is prestigious enough for them, lest it lower their status.
Though Zhou Miao has talent, works, and popularity, he is completely inactive in terms of self-promotion. He has never posted anything on his social media, which is a major drawback for brands who need exposure.
Apart from the endorsement fee, Cute More also offered three million yuan, hoping Zhou Miao would compose a tailor-made commercial song for their brand.
The phenomenal popularity of Huo Yuanjia had made sponsors covetous—despite all this time, it still hadn’t dropped from the charts.
After considering, Zhou Miao said to Gu Zhiyin, “Take note: I won’t accept endorsements for pharmaceuticals, financial products, health supplements, or beauty items. I also won’t take on any food products with past sanitation issues, nor anything targeted at women. If such offers come in the future, just turn them down for me.”
These types of endorsements offer high prices, but the risk of scandal is equally high. There are too many products one could endorse, so there’s no need to take such risks. Should something go wrong, the spokesperson is the first to be scolded.
Gu Zhiyin nodded, not at all surprised by Zhou Miao’s request. Before coming here, she had researched him through various channels. In this materialistic entertainment industry, Zhou Miao was an anomaly.
Or, perhaps, a newcomer not yet assimilated—he still carried the idealism of someone freshly entering society: free, unrestrained, and insistent on being himself. He scorned the things others chased after, living like an old artist from the nineties.
Some called him aloof, some called him arrogant, and others said he was simply young.
The reason she agreed to become Zhou Miao’s agent was to see just how far this radiant, proud young man could go.
On the day of the Strawberry Music Festival, Zhou Miao and his group arrived at the venue, which was packed with people. Zhao Jie pointed at the enormous main stage and shouted, “Damn! Look at that stage—it’s crazy cool!”
The festival began at one in the afternoon and continued until nine at night. Zhou Miao’s group was scheduled to perform at eight in the evening. With time to spare, they mingled with the crowd like ordinary fans, jumping to the rhythm of the music blaring from the stage.
Liu Huan’s face was flushed with excitement. He hugged Zhou Miao’s shoulders tightly and shouted, “Do you know when the most glorious moment of my life was?”
“Right now!” The four members of Countdown Band yelled in unison, like maniacs, shrieking and jumping.
For a band formed by high school students, their biggest dream was to perform on a stage with tens of thousands of spectators, hearing the crowd below cheer and shout for them.
As if tireless, the four bounced from one in the afternoon until seven. If the organizers hadn’t called them, they probably would have kept dancing.
As they left, the four were reluctant, walking out while their heads bobbed to the music.
Backstage, staff told them to be ready—their turn would come as soon as the current act finished.
Ma Yun was so nervous she was trembling, and had been since last night. “What do I do? I’m so excited! What if I mess up my playing?”
“Don’t worry,” Zhao Jie laughed. “If you mess up, I’ll just toss you off the stage!”
Liu Huan was taking deep breaths, twirling his drumsticks in his hands. All four members were tense—including Zhou Miao, none had ever performed on such a grand stage.
Zhou Miao took a sip of water to moisten his throat. Today was the day their band’s dream would come true; they absolutely could not afford any mistakes!
When nervous, time seems to fly. In the blink of an eye, half an hour had passed, and the staff signaled them to go onstage.
Zhou Miao grabbed his guitar, took a deep breath, and said, “Let’s go.”
It was eight o’clock, and the sky was darkening. Yet with the stage lights shining, Zhou Miao, walking in front, was clearly visible to the front-row audience.
“Whoa! Zhou Miao?” a burly man in the front row exclaimed in surprise, and only then did the crowd realize Zhou Miao was actually here.
This time, Zhou Miao’s group was performing as Countdown Band. Though their names were on the promotional posters, everyone assumed it was an obscure underground band—no one expected Zhou Miao himself.
Most attendees at the festival were young people, and thanks to his two wildly popular songs, “Fragrant Rice” and “Huo Yuanjia,” Zhou Miao enjoyed tremendous popularity among them.
Even before the performance began, the crowd erupted in screams. Zhou Miao tapped the microphone, signaling for quiet.
Once the audience settled, he said, “Hello everyone, we’re Countdown Band. It’s a pleasure to meet you here.”
“Today’s stage is our band’s debut, but it’s also our farewell. After the next two songs, we’ll each go our own way.”
“So, are you ready?” Zhou Miao shouted, thrusting the mic toward the audience.
A deafening wave of screams assaulted their ears. Zhou Miao slung his guitar and nodded at Zhao Jie.
Zhao Jie instantly understood, sweeping his bass to ignite Liu Huan’s fierce drumming—the music burst forth.
The intense rhythm instantly set the stage ablaze. Zhou Miao grabbed the microphone from its stand, kicked the stand away, and amid the fans’ wild screams, sang:
“Throw away your watch, throw away your coat, throw away your backpack, then throw away nagging. Toss out the TV, toss the computer, toss your brain, then toss your troubles.”
“Whatever you rage against, whatever you rage for, someone will always sing the opposite. More hate, less love—just want to dance crazier, leap higher, leave the earth behind!”
“A heart pounding madly, in one instant all worries forgotten! Never again, never again, will I endure a second of grievance!”
“A heart pounding madly, in one instant all worries forgotten! I throw away the earth, the earth throws me away, as long as I jump higher and higher!”
If “Huo Yuanjia” was the pinnacle of burning passion, then this song, “Leaving the Surface of the Earth,” was pure exhilaration.
The powerful beat paired with wildly liberating lyrics pushed the Strawberry Music Festival to a fever pitch. Tens of thousands followed the music, jumping and dancing—a surging sea of people.
All the pre-show nerves vanished, leaving only the joy of fully embracing the stage.
At the height of the performance, Zhou Miao leaped off the stage, landing on his back as screaming fans caught him, passing him through the crowd like a torch.
A muscular man hoisted Zhou Miao onto his shoulders, parading him through the crowd as Zhou Miao sang along with the music, hands reaching out everywhere, desperate just to touch him.
The organizers were stunned—this guy was fearless.
Amid the swirling crowd, Zhou Miao’s clothes were torn to shreds, revealing his bare torso. He didn’t care, singing his way back to the stage through the sea of fans. Just before stepping off, the burly man holding him gave his backside a solid slap.
“A heart pounding madly, in one instant all worries forgotten! I throw away the earth, the earth throws me away, as long as I jump higher and higher!”
“I throw away the earth, the earth throws me away, as long as I jump higher and higher—Come on!”
After finishing the song, Zhou Miao was drenched in sweat. He grabbed a bottle of water from the stage and poured it over his head, feeling utterly refreshed. Wiping his face, he asked, “Did you like ‘Leaving the Surface of the Earth’?”
“We loved it!”
Zhou Miao grinned, “Good. The next song, ‘One Night in Beijing,’ is dedicated to this wonderful night!”
As he spoke, wind chimes and the sound of horse hooves rang out, mingling with indistinct voices. Piano, bass, and traditional instruments joined for a cross-millennial ensemble, with fierce rock blending ancient tunes.
“One Night in Beijing, I leave behind so much love, whether you love or not, it’s all dust of history.”
“One Night in Beijing, I leave behind so much love, don’t ask directions at midnight, afraid to wander into the depths of Baihua.”
Like a storyteller, the lyrics gave the audience a fresh sensation—even just the first two lines evoked the flavor of old Beijing.
“They say in the depths of Baihua lives an old lover, sewing embroidered shoes—”
“The peaceful-faced old woman still waits for her returning warrior—”
Suddenly, a burst of Beijing opera vocals sent chills down everyone’s spines. In a daze, it felt as if they had followed the song into the depths of Baihua, aching for the old woman’s steadfast waiting.
“One Night in Beijing, don’t drink too much, walking outside Di’anmen, no one is insincere.”
“One Night in Beijing, I leave behind so much love, the men singing with raised cups are of the northern wolf tribe.”
“They say the northern wolf tribe stands outside the city gates in the cold wind, wearing decayed armor, calling for the gates to open, tears in their eyes—”
Everyone who heard this song was enthralled. It was simply too evocative—the dazzling rock music fused perfectly with traditional Beijing opera, and Zhou Miao’s singing breathed soul into it.
“No longer do I ask where you are, no longer do I ponder if you’ll return, thinking of your heart, thinking of your face, wishing I could hold it to my chest and never let go.”
“One Night in Beijing, One Night in Beijing!”
“One Night in Beijing, One Night in Beijing!”
“One Night in Beijing, One Night in Beijing!”
The song ended, but the audience’s emotions remained stirred. This Zhou Miao, who suddenly burst onto the scene with his band, brought them immense surprises.
Two stunning new songs gave more than thirty thousand listeners a feast for the ears. While they yearned for more, there was a bit of regret since, being new songs, they couldn’t sing along.
The four members of Countdown Band hugged each other in excitement—their performance was undoubtedly a success.
After collecting themselves, the four stepped to the front of the stage and bowed deeply to the audience, then began packing up to leave.
The audience was unwilling, shouting for an encore, demanding more songs.
But Zhou Miao felt this was enough. Smiling and waving to the crowd, he counted down—zero.
They left satisfied, but the final headlining singer suffered: the audience kept clamoring for Zhou Miao, and it took a long time to calm them down, making the festival run overtime.
That night, fan-shot videos began circulating online—news of Zhou Miao’s appearance at Strawberry Music Festival, singing two new songs and electrifying the crowd, quickly climbed the trending charts.
The organizers played their part, releasing official HD footage and live audio of the two songs.
That very night, both songs soared to the top two spots on major music charts, while the live video views skyrocketed—after all, this was Zhou Miao’s only live performance to date!
When viewers clicked on the video, they were stunned by the explosive atmosphere—over thirty thousand people, waves of crowds, thunderous cheers.
Zhou Miao’s commanding stage presence poured fuel on the fire, and the moment he kicked the mic stand was simply dazzling.
His wild plunge into the crowd during the climax was utterly insane: singing atop a strong man’s shoulders, he looked like a deity being worshipped by the masses.
Just watching the video was enough to set hearts pounding—one can only imagine what it felt like to be there in person.
“My God! This live performance is absolutely explosive!”
“For the first time in my life, I despise my laziness—I actually gave away my ticket, someone just kill me!”
“How did no one hear about Zhou Miao attending Strawberry Music Festival?”
“I declare: the best live show at Strawberry Music Festival has been born!”
…
Online discussions raged, while Zhou Miao and his friends sat at a roadside stall, eating barbecue.
Zhou Miao even broke his own rule and had a few beers, simply because he was so happy.
“Everything that happened today—I’ll brag about it for the rest of my life,” said Zhao Jie.
Ma Yun, already tipsy, propped her chin and grinned foolishly, “It feels like a dream.”
Liu Huan, his mouth greasy and a pile of skewers before him, said as he ate, “I’m going to save all the videos. When I have kids, I’ll show them—your dad used to be glorious.”
Zhou Miao laughed, “And then your kid opens the video and finds the camera is always focused on me, can’t even find you in the shot.”
“Hahaha.”
The moon hung high, long past bedtime, yet the young had endless words to say.
After all, once tonight was over, it was time to part ways.