WebNovels

Chapter 513 - Blossoming in Many Lands

The old director walked slowly toward the Sunshade Canopy Village community. The community head, a severely nearsighted man named Marco, had once poked a hole in the director's bicycle tire when he was a mischievous kid. He loved to put on his official tone, but in front of Director Agüero he couldn't keep it up at all.

"Director, is there a problem with the memorial's water or electricity? I'll call someone to fix it right away," Marco blurted out.

"Mr. Marco, I'm very sorry, but please allow me to resign as director," Director Agüero said.

"You've got to be kidding," Marco thought, then saw the resignation letter on the table and realized he wasn't. He pushed up his thick glasses and took a deep breath as he read. From the wording alone, he could tell the old director wasn't joking.

"Not a joke, so what kind of joke is this, then?" Marco knew all too well that forty-some years ago the memorial had been run-down. Forget turning it into a tourist site, the place had been close to condemned.

Don't think that's strange, it was normal.

Remember, Eva Perón and her husband had treated capitalists as enemies. When her husband fell from power, the backlash was brutal. People even desecrated Eva's body, or so the stories went. If Director Agüero hadn't run around writing letters to city hall to secure funding, Eva's old home would've been demolished long ago.

In Marco's mind, the memorial was Director Agüero's life.

"Mr. Agüero, is there anything I can do to help?" Marco asked. He started imagining a hundred possibilities, like a fatal illness forcing retirement.

Director Agüero drifted into memory and said softly, "In 1948, I met Madam Eva Perón once. She shook my hand."

Marco had heard that so many times his ears had calluses.

"I've guarded this memorial for over fifty years because of that handshake," Director Agüero said. "It's time I let go.

When you fixate on something and keep guarding it for so long, at some point you're not guarding the thing anymore, you're guarding the act of guarding itself," the director said.

Marco didn't quite get it, but he could at least figure out the director wasn't resigning for health reasons.

"What about the memorial…" Marco hesitated. The memorial's income had become crucial to the Sunshade Canopy Village community. With the old director there, they never had to worry, but if someone new took over, who'd handle all the mess?

"Don't worry, Mr. Marco. I'll choose the new caretaker before I leave, and I'll hand everything over properly," Director Agüero said.

Even by delayed-retirement standards, Director Agüero had long passed the age to step down, so Marco had no grounds to refuse.

Marco stood and said, "Director, you've served at the Eva Perón Memorial for more than fifty years and made a great contribution to Argentina. Your retirement benefits won't disappoint you."

There it was, the official tone slipping out again, great contribution to Argentina and all.

"Fifty-seven years," Director Agüero added gently. "Thank you, Mr. Marco."

He watched the old director leave, then sat back down to his usual idleness, caught in a contradiction. He wanted some crisis so he could feel like a real leader, but he also didn't want too much trouble. The eternal wish of a salaryman, to have it both ways.

Back in the west wing where he lived, Director Agüero walked through like a college grad visiting his childhood home for the first time, careful and reverent.

After looking around, he put on  Don't Cry for Me, Argentina again. The radio that morning had reported that All Nations Vol. 1 sold 24,000 copies on day one, the highest of the year.

"In the past decade, that's the second-best first-week physical album number," he murmured.

Good work getting good results was normal, Director Agüero told himself. Argentina, colonized by Spain, used Spanish officially, and Chu Zhi's new album didn't just include Don't Cry for Me, Argentina, it also had three Spanish tracks, so the sales made sense.

He sent Chu Zhi an email. The Emperor Beast had left his address, and making friends with a learned elder was always a good thing.

Dear Mr. Chu,

Thank you for the vinyl. I listened to Don't Cry for Me, Argentina. Near the end of her life, Madam Eva might've said the same, "Argentina, don't cry for me." I once thought I was guarding Madam Eva, but looking back on my fifty-some years, I see I was guarding my own dream. Now that the dream's complete, it's time to pursue something else.

Former director of the Eva Perón Memorial, Agüero

September 18, 2024

All Nations Vol. 1 swept the globe. The first surge came from Japan and South Korea, where physical albums still sold like crazy.

On Earth, Uchiage Hanabi had won Space Shower's Song of the Year and the Japan Gold Disc's Annual Download Single. It was a hit in both prestige and numbers.

On Earth, IF YOU had earned BIGBANG the Gaon Chart K-POP Awards' July Digital Artist of the Year. If you know a little Korean, you know that award recognizes the monthly number-one digital track.

In short, both songs crushed in their home markets, then stacked with Chu Zhi's star power.

South Korea's market, 640,000 copies day one.

Japan's market, 688.7 thousand copies day one.

A good start.

A blazing good start.

"I finally snagged eleven copies. I love the All Nations Vol. 1 cover so much," Airi said. She'd become a professional idol after starring in Chu's MV and had found firm footing in the industry.

Before, she could only afford two or three copies. Now that she had more cash, she could buy in pairs.

The cover she meant looked like a field of red from afar, but up close it was layer upon layer of red human silhouettes, all made from fan selfies collected through Orang Home and Orange Family before production.

"Language genius, demon of creation, angelic man, the circuit breaker stopping human suicides, Ragdoll among men, Asia's king, that's the Chu Temple," Airi rattled off a string of nicknames.

Hugging a stack of albums, she ran back. There was a fan meet soon, and she had to hurry. She'd used the half-hour intermission to sprint over and buy the album, with friends holding her place in line.

Not long after Airi left, the Maruzen bookstore she'd visited got hit by chaos. Stock hadn't been huge, and someone bought eighty copies in one go. The line erupted, accusing him of being rude and ruining it for others.

His reply: "You lazy bugs. The store didn't say I can't buy eighty. Who are you to talk?

If you had the guts, you'd get up earlier and line up in front of me. Being behind me means you're weaker and slower. What gives you the right to judge me?

I'm not stopping at eighty, I'll buy twenty more and make it a hundred. What can you do about it?"

It had only been verbal scolding, but his arrogance lit up a hot-tempered male fan in the queue. Fists started flying.

The hundred-copy buyer curled up on the spot like a hedgehog, switching moves like flowing water, shouting, "Cowards, you only dare attack me as a group, but do you think I'm scared? You can't possibly beat me."

It was a way-too-familiar scene. You can probably guess the culprit behind the uproar.

That's right. Ever since Ojima Matsushika set himself a goal, he'd been a lot more cheerful. Even when his father scolded him and forced him to kneel and admit he was brain-dead, he didn't care.

Ojima Matsushika thought, "Say whatever you want. You don't have many years left anyway, so talk while you can." Sure, it wasn't exactly filial, and it broke ethics, but it honestly made Ojima Matsushika's life easier.

On-site in South Korea, things were even livelier than in Japan. Thankfully, the marketing team had prepared well. No one stirred up trouble, no crush or stampede happened. Best if those human-made disasters never happen at all.

It still caused massive traffic jams, especially near Itaewon in Yongsan District, Seoul. Even sending three teams of traffic police didn't help much. Itaewon wasn't as lethal a shopping district as Myeong-dong, but most record stores were clustered there.

"I swear I started lining up at seven, and I still only got All Nations Vol. 1 after half an hour. I didn't think there were this many 'Professor' fans. Don't they have classes or homework?"

Around 9 a.m. on September 17, Seoul time, the Itaewon commercial area in Yongsan suffered severe congestion. The latest traffic command report says more than thirty kilometers of road were clogged, thousands of cars at a standstill.

The cause was the launch of Chinese artist Chu Zhi's new album All Nations Vol. 1. The last time the music industry saw scenes like this was the late 1990s at the end of the Han River Miracle. One artist briefly brought history back to life. It shows fandom culture encroaching on mainstream culture.

"Chu Zhi embodies fandom culture. His influence in South Korea mirrors his influence across Asia." — Chosun Ilbo

A straight-up front-page story in a serious Korean paper. The last artist to get that treatment had been Lee Junseok, who got hammered by Prosecutor Park.

When you think about it, it made sense. Six UN working languages are global, and then Japanese and Korean get added on top. Of course people got excited.

The Arab world was different. Twenty-two countries spoke Arabic. By economic strength, the top four were Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Egypt, and Qatar.

Originally, Chu Zhi's reach had been limited to Qatar, but Ghazi put in money and effort to push promotions. Autumn in Arabia hit the top three on trending lists in twelve Arabic-speaking countries.

"He used a nay."

"His Arabic isn't perfect, but aside from that, the lyrics, the composition, the arrangement, everything nails the Middle Eastern sound."

"I assumed a Chinese singer stuffing Arabic elements in was just pandering to the market. After listening, I'm sorry, I was arrogant."

"Of course we should apologize. My idol would never pander," Ghazi said as he scrolled through the comments online. "And those nitpicks about his Arabic not being perfect, that's too harsh. It's already plenty good." If someone praised the album, he cheered along. If someone trashed it, he clapped back.

All Nations Vol. 1 was blooming everywhere, and thanks to Chu Zhi's deep foundation, the blossoms looked gorgeous.

Russia's pop scene kind of ran on its own track. Local singers didn't necessarily dominate, but Western acts weren't exactly kings there either.

Chu Zhi's popularity had been lifted by Lullaby and Katyusha. The promo was simple and effective, "The creator who revived Katyusha brings you another Russian song." Sales followed.

"Rora, if you're buying the vampire's album, grab one for me too," Vadim said.

"Vampire?" Aurora blinked, then realized what he meant. "You mean Captain Zhi."

"That's him, the vampire hiding among humans," Vadim said.

"It's rare for you to ask me to buy an album," Aurora said. She was planning to hit the record store near Red Square anyway to pick up All Nations Vol. 1. She'd become a fan after Opera 2.

"I like Katyusha the way I like pickled cucumbers, salted pork fat, and vodka," Vadim said.

It wasn't stereotyping Russians. It just felt like people who loved to drink often chased it with pickles and cured meat.

"So are you covering my gas?" Aurora joked.

"Gas is no problem," Vadim said. "Buy three more. Your uncles Sergei and David can reimburse you double."

Sergei and David were her father's business partners, practically family. They'd watched her grow up.

"They want Captain Zhi's album too?" Aurora was stunned. In her mind, those two uncles lived to hunt with shotguns in the woods.

"He's got a tight plan for breaking the market," Vadim said. "The vampire's plan worked. He touched the people with the strongest purchasing power. Folks in their fifties. Even if the new Russian song's not my thing, spending a little because of Katyusha is nothing. Sergei and David feel the same."

Albums in Russia went for about 1,000 rubles, which wasn't cheap. Aurora thought most aunties and uncles would hesitate.

Aurora's family was very comfortable, easily top five percent in Russia, the empire of the underworld and all that. Her girlfriend's family wasn't, so she had a feel for normal households. The older generation tended to be frugal.

Half an hour later, she reached the record shop near Red Square. She could've just ordered from Wildberries, and she wasn't desperate, but as a singer, she wanted to visit a real shop.

Red Square was the heart of Moscow, the old parade ground of the Soviet days, basically Russia's Tiananmen. Aurora had grown up here. This wasn't a sightseeing trip.

The store, ПЕСНЯПРО, had a name that would translate weirdly into Chinese. Aurora frowned at the line. Huh, were there really that many people buying physicals in Moscow?

The queue was full of middle-aged buyers. A thought flashed through her mind.

"No way all these uncles and aunties came for All Nations Vol. 1, right?"

Her guess got confirmed in seconds. "One copy of the new Katyusha album." "I think it's called All Nations, give me one." "Excuse me, is this the line for the Chinese album?"

The store's system was simple. Bestsellers sat by the register to reduce back-and-forth for customers.

Aurora remembered her dad's words about the group with the most spending power and finally got it.

In Russia, selling twenty-five thousand already counted as a hit. By IFPI rules, fifty thousand was platinum. On day one, All Nations Vol. 1 clocked seventy-one thousand.

Never underestimate middle-aged spending.

"I like the album title," Vadim said at dinner, dropping the needle. He'd expected something average. Then Moscow Nights started, and he was right back to the first time he heard Katyusha.

Like going back to childhood.

"This vampire gets Russia," Vadim said.

For young Russians, Spanish and English tracks tended to chart better. On Russian TopHit, the album's Spanish track Despacito and the English track Thriller hit number one. Moscow Nights was great, but most young folks wouldn't loop it all day.

The people who held cultural sway loved it though. And they weren't "old fogeys" behind the times. Think of it another way, they were just loyal to the music of their youth.

Then that familiar feeling crept in again.

Here it came, that old Soviet flavor.

A post-90s kid writing in last century's style, and doing it well.

Opera 2 and Lullaby felt human.

Katyusha felt superhuman. Scholars had written papers trying to dissect it. Add Moscow Nights on top.

A divine track's divine anywhere. Even without the dance, Michael Jackson's songs sit at tier zero on quality alone. That day, the heat came out of nowhere. Thriller and Beat It blasted straight into the Billboard Hot 100 top ten.

Even though September 17 was Constitution Day in the United States, it wasn't a great day for the music market. There weren't many competitors. Chu Zhi stood alone.

Saying "invincible and lonely" wasn't an exaggeration.

American internet comments on Beat It poured in:

"My body's not great and my rhythm's worse, so I never dance at parties. But this makes me move without thinking."

"I can be driving a tractor and feel like I'm commanding a tank."

"I didn't like his earlier albums, but I love this. No man can resist this track."

"Once again, a Chinese singer beats the entire U.S. field. This belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."

And so on.

The result, 464,000 copies sold day one in the U.S. Chu Zhi smashed his own numbers from The One Gazed Upon by the Gods and jumped straight into first-tier American sales.

All Nations Vol. 1 really was about to take off.

"Fuck, fuck."

"Goddamn."

Who knew why, but whenever Horman came up, he was swearing. Sometimes he even wondered if his rap speed came from all the cursing practice.

"Why's Thriller so good, goddamn it. Why's my favorite funk cut written by a Chinese guy?" Horman fumed.

He still loved it though. To vent, he started flaming Western artists who'd dabbled in funk and disco. It was their fault, he said, for not delivering, leaving the door open for a Chinese singer to run wild.

Horman wasn't racist. He disliked Chu Zhi purely because of Leighton. He'd been Leighton's friend first, after all.

Thirty minutes of muttering later, Leighton finally ran out of breath.

"Chu Zhi really brought a monster of an album," Leighton said. "All Nations Vol. 1 has eight languages. From a language perspective alone, it's probably going to be written into music history." He figured the haters were about to get slapped.

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