[Muscle King]
[Oddity: The Miraculous Bird of Paradise]
[Title: Sun King]
[Song Pack: Cao Cao]
[Song Pack: Onion]
[Special Reward: Farinelli's Peak Physical Prowess (The Legendary Castrato)]
To be honest, aside from the two song packs, the rest of the prizes in this pool had a distinctly bizarre vibe.
"In the late Eastern Han, three kingdoms rose amidst endless war… Hmm, how does the rest go again?" Chu Zhi mused. Cao Cao might be dead, but the spirit of Cao Thief lived on.
"Speaking of which, after researching Records of the Three Kingdoms, I realized Cao Cao wasn't actually a 'married women connoisseur.' He just liked pretty women—it just so happened that the pretty ones were often married. What's wrong with that?"
He glanced at the Muscle King description—a physique so exaggerated it would make every gym bro weep with envy.
"Hard pass." Chu Zhi's aesthetic didn't lean toward bodybuilder extremes (that was more of an American taste). Plus, he'd heard the saying: "Moderate fitness attracts the opposite sex; extreme fitness attracts the same sex." No idea where it came from, but better safe than sorry.
Sun King was the daytime counterpart to Night King—same domineering aura, just active from sunrise to sunset.
Why does a celebrity-building system have such weird titles? "Elegant Scholar" and "Smoke Summoner" made some sense, but Night King and Sun King? What even were these?
Then came The Miraculous Bird of Paradise. Chu Zhi's face twisted into a "Are you kidding me?" expression.
The "Bird of Paradise" wasn't a bird—it was the name of an orange tabby cat.
Owning it granted a one-time death evasion, akin to a game's extra life. But unlike games, this worked on any fatal threat—cancer, accidents, stab wounds, you name it. The catch? The cat would die in your place.
"A serious question," Chu Zhi asked cautiously. "With Night King and this 'Bird of Paradise,' does this world have hidden superhumans or ancient cultivators?"
System: [This parallel world has no supernatural forces.]
Good. As long as everyone else was normal, he could be the one with the cheat codes. (Unlocking Despair's Voice at 100% was already a form of psychological warfare.)
"This thing is broken! It's like Zhuang Zhou bringing Purify—you literally can't die!" His heart raced.
More importantly, based on his observations, the top prizes in the blind box had higher drop rates. Unlike the flashy-but-useless "special rewards."
"Let's go! Draw!"
In his excitement, he didn't even check the special reward details before selecting the box he felt was the Bird of Paradise.
Opened: [Special Reward: Farinelli's Peak Physical Prowess (The Legendary Castrato)]
"Of course the system wouldn't give me what I wanted—"
"Wait."
"I hit the jackpot?!"
Sometimes, the universe blesses you when you least expect it.
"Who's Farinelli? 'The Legendary Castrato' sounds… odd."
A name alongside Chopin, Beethoven, Vitas, and even Zhao Yuanren.
After checking the details, Chu Zhi wished he were under the car, not in it.
Farinelli—the world's greatest castrato singer. The pinnacle of bel canto technique and physical vocal prowess. To this day, no one in the West has matched his range or power.
What's a castrato? A male singer castrated before puberty to preserve his prepubescent voice.
Originating in Renaissance Italy (when women were banned from church choirs), castrati handled the high notes. Boys' voices would eventually break—unless they never went through puberty.
Here's the science: Vocal pitch depends on vocal cord vibration frequency. Thinner, narrower cords (like women's) vibrate faster, enabling higher notes.
That's why Zhang Yusheng's highs were godly—his vocal cords were short. He could hit E5 without strain, while others struggled with C4. Similarly, Zhou Shen's voice remained childlike because his vocal cords barely thickened during puberty.
Puberty = vocal cords lengthening/thickening = goodbye high notes.
Farinelli's story was brutal. His composer brother, obsessed with preserving his sibling's angelic voice (and wanting a perfect singer for his compositions), allegedly castrated him during a high fever.
The film Farinelli dramatizes his life. His voice combined a boy's impossible range with a crisp, luminous timbre and freakish lung capacity. At his peak, he could effortlessly hit High C's D—with power, richness, and metallic brilliance.
This special reward gave Chu Zhi Farinelli's peak physiology—without the mutilation.
*"The endowment includes four parts: insane lung capacity, terrifying range, a bright/resonant timbre, and supernatural vocal stamina. Even without inheriting his techniques (like 10-degree leaps or rapid vibrato), this is a grand prize."*
"If Zhang Yusheng's highs were 'godlike,' Farinelli's were divinity incarnate."
Chu Zhi felt the changes instantly. His voice gained a crystalline clarity, his highs now ethereal. (His original voice had been generic—now, it was unique.)
And no, this didn't make him sound effeminate. Modern countertenors (like France's Philippe Jaroussky) sing in soprano ranges while being unmistakably masculine.
"My technique's still mediocre, but with this physiology, hitting fourth- and fifth-octave notes will be easy."
Singing is all talent. Without it, even flawless technique only makes you good (e.g., Yoga Lin's artistry vs. his limited range/breath support).
"Should I switch to opera? The prestige is higher…" Then he remembered: Adults don't choose. They take both. Keep the idol career, study bel canto on the side.
Opera singers stomp pop vocalists. Imagine reversing that? Tantalizing.
But both genres require training…
"Wait—learning talent is also talent, right? Farinelli mastered advanced techniques by 15 and out-sang a trumpeter at 17. So my learning curve should be…"
[Yes.] The system confirmed.
"Holy shit. This is the joy of a special reward? My vocal talent is now maxed—especially for classical."
He splurged 3 Personality Coins on [Miraculous Golden Throat Lozenges] (protects vocals from smoke, spice, cold, etc.).
Now, his 15-coin fortune dwindled to 2.
Too excited to sleep, he spent the night in the studio. The talent was obvious.
The next day, still buzzing, he: Shot 9 Weibo-worthy photos; Took 15 portrait shots (for 3 licensing deals); Filmed an ad; Gave a Guangming Daily interview on "The Responsible Celebrity in the New Era."
Finalized a tourism promo for Fengdu County (his hometown, though he'd have skipped it if not for his grandfather's grave there).
"Mr. Chu, Guangming Daily's editor wants to dine with you. Possible?" Niu Jiangxue asked.
"If our schedule allows." Chu Zhi realized he lacked official connections.
By noon:
"Lunch is on me—somewhere nice." He booked a famed Shanghai restaurant.
"No need, too extravagant!" Fei Ge was about to order takeout.
"Nine, you seem extra happy today?" Old Qian probed.
"Just grateful for our teamwork. Chaotic but efficient—worth celebrating."
(He couldn't share the real reason, but joy was contagious.)
Niu Jiangxue almost declined (she was swamped with brand-building tasks), but Chu Zhi insisted: "No takeout. You're all coming."
"Generous stars are trouble," she sighed (like a humblebrag).
"Wait—has Chu's voice changed?" Fei Ge frowned. "It's… better?"
"Right?! It's always been pleasant, but today's next level," Wang Yuan agreed (rare for her to side with Fei Ge).
"Since when do compliments come with free meals?" Old Qian teased (he heard no difference).
Laughing, the team headed to Zun Yan—a Jiang-Zhe cuisine spot in the tech district.