Chu Zhi sorted through his "small treasury." The night before, after finishing his spicy late-night takeout, he had completed the "Ruthless Butcher" achievement (eating spicy food ten times) and earned three more Personality Coins. The "Smoke Emperor" achievement (smoking 100 cigarettes) was still 20+ cigarettes short, while the "Drunken Immortal" achievement (getting blackout drunk twice more) remained incomplete.
The original owner of this body didn't smoke, so suddenly chain-smoking a pack a day had left Chu Zhi's throat feeling phlegmy. He adjusted his pace to half a pack daily. As for getting blackout drunk twice—he had already decided against it. Getting drunk risked him spilling secrets, so he avoided alcohol in public.
"If smoking and eating spicy food both damage the vocal cords, would eating something icy and irritating count too?"
He decided to test it out. After eating two ice creams, nothing happened.
"My mistake. The system is, at its core, a Idol Personality System. The criteria aren't about harming the body. If a celebrity loved eating ice cream, it wouldn't seem bizarre—it might even become an endearing quirk."
The afternoon was spent researching achievements, but unfortunately, he didn't unlock any new ones. As night fell and the sun retreated from the sky, Chu Zhi turned his attention to his next venture: poetry.
He couldn't let Stray Birds, the collection he had drawn from the system, go to waste. It was, without exaggeration, the most famous collection of short poems in the world—unrivaled both domestically and internationally. Even the notoriously arrogant Li Ao, who criticized everyone under the sun, held Stray Birds in high regard.
Posting it on Weibo? The platform had massive traffic, but copyright awareness was weak. Even if it gained traction, it wouldn't bring him fame. He needed a more professional platform. After some research, he discovered China Poetry Net.
This wasn't some shady website—it was hosted by the China Publishing Group and was a key national cultural project. The homepage boasted that it was "the platform with the highest average daily royalties for poets." Yet, a glance at the Weekly Hotlist revealed how pitifully poetry had declined: the top-ranked poem had only 33 "applauses" (a form of virtual tipping).
"I knew poetry was niche, but I didn't expect it to be this dead. You could chill beer with how cold the scene is." Chu Zhi frowned. The era of "good wine needs no bush" was long gone. Relying solely on the website wouldn't cut it.
He couldn't find the site's exact daily active users, but keyword search data was available. "China Poetry Net" averaged 200-300 daily searches on PC and around 1,000 on mobile. The traffic was too limited—even if every visitor read his poems, it wouldn't be enough to make them go viral.
"We need to break out of this circle. The original Stray Birds was published in English, and I have the full text memorized. I'll post it on foreign platforms first, attract readers overseas, maybe even win an award—then let the reputation rebound back home."
With a plan in place, he registered an account.
What username should he use?
Scanning the poets on the rankings, he noticed many used names like "So-and-so Hermit," "Mountain Recluse," or "Cave Dweller."
Using his real name was out of the question—his comeback plan was only in its infancy, and "Chu Zhi" still carried too much baggage. Imagine the reaction: "A disgraced celebrity with terrible public image suddenly starts writing poetry?" People would dismiss it without even reading. First impressions were everything—hence "beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
He settled on "Huainan" ("South of the Huai River").
The name was a nod to the proverb: "Oranges grown south of the Huai River become tangerines; north of the Huai, they turn into bitter trifoliate oranges (zhi)." It subtly connected to his Weibo handle ("Eating a Big Orange") without being overt.
After registering, he explored the site. Despite its low traffic, the layout was sleek—befitting a national cultural project. The top navigation bar included sections like: Daily Featured Poems, New Works by Masters, Classical Poetry, E-Collections, Rankings, Poetry Weekly, Editor's Picks, Chinese-to-English Translations…
The "Masters" section showcased renowned poets from this world—winners of the Lu Xun Literary Award or contributors to prestigious journals like The Stars and October.
"Wait, Lu Xun exists here?"
Chu Zhi was surprised. Given that this world's cultural divergence began in the 19th century, figures like Lu Xun shouldn't exist. Had the system erased certain poets to make his plagiarism easier?
"Nah, the system can't be that overpowered."
He rationalized it as this world's modern poetry scene simply developing differently.
Next, he checked the ongoing poetry contests:
—"2019 Cross-Strait Poetry Festival—Writing for Hainan" (a promotional event for Hainan's free trade zone).
—"High-Speed Rail Poetry Contest" (not a fit).
—"Voices of Nature"—sponsored by Poetry Journal.
The third contest was perfect. It called for works celebrating nature—flowers, stars, landscapes, or stories about the natural world. The rules stated:
— Original, plagiarism-free submissions only.
— 1-4 poems per person, each no longer than 30 lines.
— Multiple submissions invalid.
"Thirty lines max? That's restrictive—even for modern poetry."
Famous poems like Dai Wangshu's "Rain Alley" exceeded 40 lines. But Chu Zhi stopped himself from overanalyzing—he had a habit of getting lost in details.
Time for action. He selected a few suitable poems from Stray Birds:
[Theme: Short Poems]
1. "Passion"
The fish in the water is silent.
The beast on the earth is noisy.
The bird in the air is singing.
But man has in him the silence of the sea,
the noise of the earth, and the music of the air.
2. "Tempering"
Only through the grind of hell can one forge the strength to create heaven.
Only through bleeding fingers can one pluck the world's most haunting melodies.
3. "Untitled"
Plucking its petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
"Three should be enough."
The original Stray Birds poems were untitled—Chu Zhi added the names himself. He used Zheng Zhenduo's Chinese translation (the most famous version on Earth), which had sparked a short-poem craze in its time. Works like Bing Xin's "The Stars" and "Spring Water"—recommended middle school readings—were direct descendants of that trend.
After submitting the poems to the "Voices of Nature" contest, he closed the site. He knew better than to expect instant fame—even Tagore needed time to ferment. Short poems, especially those just 2-3 lines long, were often dismissed as low-effort, akin to the "three-line love poems" popular online.
"High hopes, but patience is key. Besides, I haven't even translated them for foreign audiences yet."
He washed up and went to bed early—before 2 AM was "early" for him.
Tomorrow at 8 PM, I Am Indeed a Singer would air. The first test of his comeback plan was coming.
"Goodnight, Makka Pakka," he said to the empty air. Maybe it was the loneliness of crossing worlds that made him blurt out the random In the Night Garden... line.
[Goodnight, Migo Pigoo.] The system responded.
"??"
Chu Zhi hadn't expected a reply. Did the system think "Makka Pakka" was its nickname? Or was it just humoring his loneliness? Either way, he drifted off, dreaming of not just a successful comeback but becoming an Asian superstar, touring the world and making money effortlessly.
The next day, the weather was gloomy—a light drizzle pattered outside.
But not even hail could stop a variety show from airing. I Am a Singer's current season held a 1.4% average rating, peaking near 2% at launch. While it couldn't match the 3%+ ratings of its golden age, it still lived up to its reputation as one of the "Big Four Music Shows."
The audience fell into two main groups:
— Working adults in their 20s—coming home exhausted, ordering takeout, and unwinding with the show on their tablets or phones.
— Teenagers—watching either to follow their idols or simply because it was trendy.
The episode began with the host's cheerful announcement:
"Welcome to I Am Indeed a Singer, sponsored by Chunsheng Organic Milk! I'm your host, singer Gu Nanxi!"