Luo Ding’s first overseas concert was scheduled much earlier than he had originally planned.
One album per year, roughly ten to twelve songs, three years, plus an EP. Luo Ding, who had been topping the sales charts for more than three years, had long been ready to hold a concert. However, he had never found the time.
Music wasn’t his only job, and organizing a concert required a great deal of energy. With film shoots, endorsements, and events, he simply couldn’t squeeze it in.
His fans were on the verge of tears, bombarding the company’s official account and his personal account daily with questions about when the concert would finally happen. Luo Ding himself grew more and more excited as time went on.
He loved the feeling of standing on stage, being the center of attention.
The Asian tour was scheduled over a long period of time, and during this time, he would also continue with filming.
Before boarding the plane, Luo Ding tilted his head back and gazed at the vast blue sky above the tarmac. He did this every time before a flight; the wide, open, quiet space gave him a peaceful feeling that couldn’t be found in the city.
Wu Fangyuan stood beside him, while Gu Yaxing had already been waiting for them at their destination for quite some time. Their first stop was Tokyo.
The first concert of the Asian tour.
Ever since news leaked that Luo Ding was finally going to hold a concert, his fan community had been buzzing with excitement day and night. The “Mama Fan” groups (a term used for nurturing, protective fans) constantly urged Gu Yaxing on the studio’s official account to speed up preparations. However, the question of where the first concert would take place remained unanswered, leaving everyone in suspense.
They speculated that it would be overseas, but there was heated debate over whether the first stop would be Tokyo or Seoul.
Both places were major strongholds of Luo Ding’s overseas fanbase.
Luo Ding’s Japanese fans had known about him ever since he released his first EP. By chance, his popularity grew quickly in Japan, and a fan club was established. Every event after that was a grand spectacle thanks to the Japanese fan club’s mature support system. Their fan culture also provided domestic fans with much to learn from, playing a crucial role in the development of Luo Ding’s fan community.
Korean fans, on the other hand, were more self-driven.
Luo Ding broke into this market earlier than Gu Yaxing had anticipated. The Korean entertainment industry, where idol-making had become a cultural phenomenon, was known to be extremely insular, almost like an iron fortress. It wasn’t easy for foreign idols to break into the country. Additionally, Korea had long harbored a strange sense of inferiority and hostility toward its larger neighbor, China, making it difficult for Chinese artists to enter the Korean market.
The country was too small, and Gu Yaxing hadn’t originally considered it a priority market. He had just dabbled in it casually.
Unexpectedly, Luo Ding’s second album took Korea by storm. Luo Ding, without ever having held a local event in Korea, had his popularity spread like radiation—suddenly and unexpectedly. Among the brightly dressed and flashy idol singers, Luo Ding stood out like an anomaly. His natural charm was something that no amount of artificial packaging could surpass. At best, the artificial packaging could only enhance what was already there.
Luo Ding broke through, and before he even realized it, Korean fans had begun calling him the “Nation’s Idol.”
This title wasn’t something that could be easily earned. In truth, compared to local Korean artists, Luo Ding’s recognition among the general public was far lower. But when news spread that Luo Ding had a large fanbase in Japan and Europe, that he balanced both a singing and a movie career, had been nominated for several of the world’s top film festivals, and even won Best Actor at the Feilin Film Festival at such a young age, his value skyrocketed.
The Korean market, which idolized Japanese and Western culture, was surprisingly easy to penetrate—or was it? In reality, it was still a very difficult market to grasp.
How many foreign idols could truly become so universally popular like Luo Ding?
As the plane soared through the clouds, the wind howled outside, and Luo Ding’s gaze fell on the rising sun through the small window. The soft, warm, orange light of the sunrise gently pulled him out of his drowsy state.
The country across the sea didn’t seem much different from home. Even the people looked similar, though the locals here were generally shorter.
Luo Ding, with his tall and slender frame, stood out like a crane among chickens. The surrounding passengers, despite their polite manners, couldn’t help but glance back at him.
Before leaving the gate, Luo Ding instinctively turned his head for a look and was startled.
He hadn’t noticed when boarding the plane, but now through the glass, he saw that the entire side of the plane was painted with one of his photos from last fall!
It wasn’t an advertisement—it was a portrait photo!
Luo Ding was surprised and asked Wu Fangyuan what was going on. Wu Fangyuan smiled nonchalantly, “Oh that? You can get that done if you pay enough, just like buses.”
This must have cost a huge amount of sponsorship money. Gu Yaxing was really that generous? This kind of self-promotion wouldn’t have much practical effect.
Wu Fangyuan explained, “It’s just part of fan support culture. There are fans back home who sponsor bus and subway station ads for you too. It’s just that things are more developed… and frequent here.”
Luo Ding soon understood what Wu Fangyuan meant by “frequent.”
More frequent?
He pulled down the brim of his hat, and as he walked through the airport, he saw his giant posters on every pillar. Overhead, the billboards displayed his latest endorsement ads. People around him were starting to recognize who he was, whispering among themselves. By the time Luo Ding finally exited the airport and was about to breathe a sigh of relief—
He saw his own confident smile plastered on passing taxis.
“…”
And that wasn’t all.
Buses, road signs, and as they headed toward the city center, there were even more massive billboard ads, murals on building walls—Luo Ding could spot himself easily from all the flamboyant images.
…How much money did this cost? Luo Ding mentally calculated a figure that made him frown.
The concert venue was a large arena in Tokyo, capable of accommodating more than 50,000 people. When Luo Ding arrived, Gu Yaxing was busy overseeing the stage setup, acting confident in front of Luo Ding, though deep down he was quite nervous.
In truth, there was another unspoken reason for choosing to hold the first concert overseas, aside from the fact that foreign fans were more orderly and it would be easier to start on a good note.
The company’s statistics showed that Luo Ding’s fan enthusiasm had reached a peak, but Gu Yaxing wasn’t sure how many fans would actually show up.
It wouldn’t be the first time this had happened. In China, many fans were used to consuming free content and looked down on the cost of concert tickets.
But this couldn’t be mentioned publicly. Internally and externally, Gu Yaxing always firmly supported Luo Ding, the company’s top star. However, Luo Ding had been devoting so much energy to his film career that it was difficult for the company to accurately gauge his current popularity. Moreover, the concert tickets were expensive—a decision made after careful consideration. Luo Ding’s status had risen so much that it was no longer just about personal interest. If the concert didn’t generate more revenue than his endorsements or films, it would be a loss.
This would be detrimental to both the company and Luo Ding’s career.
As Gu Yaxing looked around at the sea of empty seats in the stadium, illuminated by clean lights, his heart felt hollow.
The announcement was finally made.
The venue, the scale, the seating capacity, and the ticket prices—all of it was carefully communicated to the public in the most sincere tone by a still-anxious Gu Yaxing.
As expected, the fan community exploded.
It was Tokyo after all!!!
Fans who had been preparing to travel abroad for Luo Ding’s first concert weren’t disappointed at all. They had already anticipated this. It was the studio’s first time organizing a concert, and not just any concert—a massive one at that. They had no prior experience, and there were plenty of things that could go wrong in the middle of a concert. Even the fans agreed that it was better to hold the first concert abroad.
For one, it would temper the enthusiasm of the less mature domestic fans. And while foreign fans weren’t perfect, their support culture was indeed more advanced than that of domestic fans. Concerts abroad would also be more orderly. Unless someone was offended, there usually wouldn’t be any extreme incidents. If the first concert left a good impression on Luo Ding, it would bode well for his future concerts. But if the first one scared him off, what then?
The “Mama Fans” were worried sick. Gu Yaxing’s decision garnered countless praise, though some domestic media subtly expressed dissatisfaction with the company’s choice. But they didn’t dare say it outright, so their reports hinted at reasons why the first concert wasn’t held in China.
Due to the growing maturity of various fan-supported charity activities, Luo Ding had now become almost synonymous with charity. In addition to his normal endorsements, he frequently took on public service ads with little to no compensation. As a result, his image was gradually rising above that of ordinary entertainers. Even gossip magazines had to tread lightly when trying to criticize him, being as polite and objective as possible.
But honestly, unless someone was incredibly bored, who cared where he held his concert? Wasn’t it perfectly fine to go abroad and earn foreign currency? Why should only foreign artists come to China to make money? That’s not fair!
As the title of “Nation’s Idol” in Korea became more widely known among domestic audiences, people began to respect Luo Ding for penetrating foreign cultures. Younger fans no longer idolized only Korean and Japanese pretty boys. Having a homegrown star to look up to was actually a good thing, especially for older generations worried about the younger ones being “softly invaded” by foreign cultures.
Still, despite all this, no one could definitively predict the outcome at this point.
Ticket sales were officially scheduled for a day off, so fans wouldn’t be inconvenienced. The stadium could accommodate a little over 50,000 people, with approximately 53,000 tickets available. Although it wasn’t a huge number, for a first concert, the scale was considerable.
As Gu Yaxing pondered what to do if the tickets didn’t sell out, he thought about moving the attending fans to the center, leaving the empty seats gathered in one section, and setting up a large curtain. There was still time to adjust the venue. He could even set up a big screen…
Ticket sales started at 10 AM. By 9:50, Gu Yaxing was still sweating, pacing nervously, when his phone rang.
At that moment, the ringtone sounded like a lifesaver to his tense nerves. Even if it was a telemarketer, he would take the call! Gesturing to the ticketing staff to continue, he stepped out to check his screen, and his face fell.
This was worse than a telemarketer.
A call from Jiang Changfeng could take ten years off his life.
But he couldn’t show weakness now. He had to be strong. Picking up the call, he answered with confidence, “What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Director Gu!” Jiang Changfeng’s voice was always dripping with sarcasm, often making Gu Yaxing picture him pulling faces into the air. “You sure are hard to get a hold of, huh? You even skipped out on the music festival with Luo Ding.”
Gu Yaxing: “Heh.”
“What have you been up to lately?”
“Concert.”
“Oh!” Jiang Changfeng pretended to just find out, sounding surprised, “A concert? Luo Ding is having a concert? Congratulations! Where is it? Taipei Arena? Beijing Stadium? I’ll come and show my support.”
Gu Yaxing’s anger flared up. Why was this guy so obnoxious?
Jiang Changfeng continued, “How many tickets have you sold? You should’ve let me know earlier. I could’ve had someone at Universal help spread the word online. Such a shame that it’s already set up.”
Gu Yaxing merely smiled. His studio had grown bigger and bigger, to the point that it could no longer be called a studio. In June, they officially purchased several floors of an office building and renamed the company Yaxin Media Entertainment Ltd. As the company expanded, Gu Yaxing’s network also grew, meaning he crossed paths with Jiang Changfeng more often.
Gu Yaxing didn’t want to deal with him at all. But for the sake of his career, he had to smile and play along. This annoying guy was like a stubborn rash that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you scratched. He couldn’t just insult him outright either. Whenever Gu Yaxing heard his snide comments, he’d silently curse him in his head.
He couldn’t understand why Jiang Changfeng had so much patience to keep provoking him when they clearly disliked each other.
Letting his words pass in one ear and out the other, Gu Yaxing couldn’t see Jiang Changfeng as an ordinary person. After finishing his little monologue, Jiang Changfeng must have gotten bored. After making a few more backhanded comments about helping out in the future, he finally ended the call, clearly reluctant to hang up.
Gu Yaxing’s mood plummeted, and he looked at the call screen with the urge to say, “Let’s never speak again.”
Glancing at the time in the top right corner of his phone, he was shocked to realize that it was already 10:16.
He didn’t even bother putting his phone back in his pocket and rushed back inside. There had been a tense atmosphere when he left, but when he returned, the staff was just staring at the computer screen, dazed.
“…”
Out of breath and feeling a little anxious, he quietly asked, “How’s it going? Are ticket sales okay? How many have we sold?”
“Huh?” The head of the ticketing staff turned to look at him and repeated, “How many tickets?”
Gu Yaxing’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced a smile, “What’s wrong? Aren’t they selling well? Are we really not selling enough? I thought we’d sell at least 5,000 today. If we don’t even sell that much, then…what will we do?”
The leader’s lips twitched as he gave Gu Yaxing a half-smile.
“Not selling well?” He glanced back at the screen in confusion, then after a pause, replied, “…They’re sold out.”
Gu Yaxing: “…”
He quickly looked at his phone screen again. It was just 10:20.
Twenty minutes… It hadn’t even been twenty minutes…
53,000 tickets, sold out?
**Author’s Note:**
Luo Ding Fan Club: “Did you get a ticket?”
I’ll Build My Tower Higher: “…Heh.”
Luo Xiao Ding, I’m Your Mama Fan!: “…Heh.”
“…,” Luo Ding Fan Club: “…Heh【Bye Bye】”
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