Chapter 54: "Departure!"

As the release date for Zhou Ran’s debut album was finalized, a storm of marketing and publicity swept across the entertainment landscape. At the forefront was Zhou Ran’s agency, HuaYu Media. Xi Hanwei, the head of the entertainment division, received word of the album’s imminent release and called Zhou Ran to complain, saying the timeline was far too tight. HuaYu Media barely had enough time to push the promotion through all channels and could only select a few critical, fast-acting publicity methods.

Soon, Zhou Ran’s fans mobilized as well. Last time, when Zhou Ran released a new book, the fans hadn’t even exerted themselves before they bought out every copy, sending it straight to the top of book sales charts, where it remained unchallenged ever since. This time, they were determined to go even bigger with the debut album, making up for the regrets of last time.

Zhou Ran’s fans were lucky, too. They had begun preparing promotional activities for the debut album as soon as Zhou Ran emerged from closed-door training, well before the official release date. So even with the album’s early launch, their publicity plans went off without a hitch.

In an instant, social media was flooded with advertisements for Zhou Ran’s new album. Celebrities from every corner of the entertainment industry appeared to promote it: whether old friends like Ji Song and Jin Kun, or singers who had never met Zhou Ran, all called on their followers to support his debut. Each had their own reasons—some out of friendship, like Ji Song’s circle; others because HuaYu Media pushed the order through, prompting contract stars to show support. And, of course, some were simply chasing clout: people who rarely listened to music, but, seeing Zhou Ran’s debut album trending, sought to ride the wave and grab some attention.

Zhou Ran found this last group the most baffling, but there was little he could do. He could only let them post as they pleased, scrambling for a sliver of the spotlight. He’d seen plenty of such antics in his previous life, and some took things to extremes—hosting live-streamed weddings, selling products during the ceremony, even hawking napkins at the reception for a lucrative take.

After Zhou Ran announced the release date for his debut album, several singers who had planned to release their own albums in those days called their agents, urgently requesting a change in their release schedule. No one wanted to compete head-to-head with Zhou Ran—it would be asking too much.

In that moment, Zhou Ran was like a ravenous shark prowling the ocean; anyone who dared approach would be devoured.

During the countdown to his debut, Zhou Ran’s team made special arrangements: every eight hours, they would release a new message about the album.

The internet buzzed with speculation about Zhou Ran’s first album. So far, netizens only knew that it would include songs Zhou Ran performed on "Who Is the King of Singers," but none could guess what other tracks might appear. To learn more, they had to rely on teaser posts from Zhou Ran’s studio.

This clever strategy sent anticipation skyrocketing. The entire online community was waiting for the next announcement from Zhou Ran’s studio.

July 8th, eight o’clock in the morning.

Under the gaze of countless eager fans, Zhou Ran’s studio finally released the first teaser for the album. The content was simple: a single image and two words.

Yet that image and those two words pierced straight through the hearts of many fans. The studio had posted a photo of Zhou Ran winning the championship on the finale of "Who Is the King of Singers," accompanied by the words “Departure.”

The post immediately stirred a wave of nostalgia, bringing memories flooding back.

Zhou Ran named his debut album “Departure” for a reason. It marked a summary of a phase in his life—a way to preserve the beauty of those moments.

Instantly, Zhou Ran’s studio’s post was shared across social media. Some reposted out of love and admiration, while others, unaware of how many songs Zhou Ran had released, simply followed the trend, thinking it prestigious to share news of his new album.

There were many such people, driven solely by vanity.

At ten o’clock that morning, as the sun climbed higher, Zhou Ran’s fans launched their full-scale publicity campaign. This time, they pulled out all the stops.

They bought up the largest screens in Times Square, streaming Zhou Ran’s videos twenty-four hours a day. The price for a single screen was half a million dollars, and they bought several—enough to purchase a prime apartment in Shanghai.

They also covered major subway stations and bus stops with Zhou Ran’s “Departure” photo.

Moreover, they made donations in Zhou Ran’s name, giving millions to children in impoverished regions.

When Zhou Ran heard about this from Li Mi, he was stunned, thinking his fans were truly formidable—all of them wealthy beyond belief.

Since his fans had already made donations in his name, Zhou Ran decided to follow suit. His original plan had been to donate quietly, without fanfare, believing such deeds needed no public attention. But now that his fans had taken the lead, Zhou Ran wanted to reciprocate.

Soon, Zhou Ran’s studio posted an announcement:

“All proceeds from the album ‘Departure’ will be donated to the Huaguo Charity Foundation, in the name of every album purchaser.”