Unconventional Center

Chapter 34: Absolute Superstar

A lion? Tian Hong thought he must have misheard, but when he turned around, he saw that Chen Ping and Yuman also looked completely baffled. It seemed he hadn’t misheard after all? But what was Li Jia’s “I’m trying so hard to put up with this” expression supposed to mean? Could it be that tastes were different here in Spain, and bosses liked to reward employees by giving them animals? Or was it a jade lion, a golden lion? Or perhaps a euphemism for some kind of luxury car? While Tian Hong was still lost in his wild speculations, Chu Yang had already picked up another sheet of paper from the table and continued writing away. Xiao Luo was, after all, the big boss, so he had to save face; he didn’t feel comfortable leaning in to look, so he could only give Li Jia a subtle nod. Li Jia caught the hint and, looking at the words Chu Yang had written, read them aloud softly. “Ugo, 33 years old, sat right there. When he looked over with that deep, affectionate gaze, all he saw was the reflection of his 23-year-old self: XXX matches played, XXX goals scored, 1 European Championship title, 2 Serie A titles, 3 Copa del Rey titles, 1 Serie A top scorer, 5 Segunda División top scorer titles, Valencia’s all-time leading scorer, and holder of the French National Team’s single-match scoring record…” Chu Yang stopped writing there; of course, he couldn’t possibly write out the entire commentary. “Let’s kick off the first episode with *Absolute Superstar: The White Swordsman*, followed by a companion sub-series called *Absolute Rising Star*,” Chu Yangdao said. “The writing style should follow what I’ve written here.” “Sentimental?” Xiao Luo keenly picked up on the key point. “Exactly. Find a commentator with a heartfelt voice, use footage fans don’t usually get to see as material, and go all out on the emotional appeal—to the point where Ugo’s fans will love him to the point of obsession, fans who don’t know him won’t be able to resist setting his pictures as their phone wallpapers, and those who hate him will be so disgusted they can’t sleep for three days,” Chu Yangdao said. ““Go through Ugo’s life in chronological order. Start with his club career, emphasizing his loyalty to the club and the club’s sense of community. Then move on to the National Team—focus not only on the moments of glory but also on the tragic ones. Finally, hire some online trolls… well, you know what I mean.” “Will that work?” asked Tian Hongdao. “Won’t fans think we’re just promoting ourselves?” He wasn’t trying to nitpick; he genuinely had this concern. After all, viewers’ preferences are just as hard to predict as a girlfriend’s mood, and with competitors sure to sabotage us behind the scenes, that’s a very real possibility. “Um, isn’t the main purpose of this show to make money and promote ourselves at the same time?” Chu Yang asked, puzzled. Damn it, is your ultimate goal really to offer fans the purest form of soccer and the ultimate enjoyment? Are your aspirations too noble, or are my thoughts too dirty? Xiao Luo smiled but didn’t answer; instead, he asked another question: “Who’s the ‘Absolute Rising Star’? You?” “I’m not in a rush yet. Let’s go with Mo Ya first,” Chu Yang waved his hand dismissively. “Of course, it wouldn’t hurt to mention me along the way.” As for the others, even Tian Hong could see what he was up to. As Valencia’s youngest-ever captain and one of the most talked-about midfielders in the Segunda División today, Mo Ya had long been on the radar of many top-tier teams. It’s no exaggeration to say he has a bright future ahead of him. Although he’s still a tiny bit short of the title “Absolute Rising Star,” when his highlight reel is eventually released, it will absolutely leave everyone speechless. As the saying goes, when you watch highlight reels on their own, most players look like soccer kings. And when airing content featuring Mo Ya, it’ll be even easier to seamlessly weave in those standout moments from Chu Yang. This approach is actually more effective than making Chu Yang the main star, because his highlight reel consists of only those few goals—not enough to carry an entire episode on their own. It’s better to create this illusion for the fans: if he’s that incredible just by making a few casual appearances in someone else’s highlight reel, just how dominant must Chu Yang’s regular performances be? The group could easily imagine what kind of backlash Deportivo La Coruña would face if this episode really went viral—at the very least, they’d be stuck with the label of being “blind to talent.” Chen Ping chuckled, “You’re a crafty one, kid. If we’d made you the main star right off the bat, people would’ve accused the club of hyping you up. But now that Mo Ya’s taking the spotlight, your casual cameo actually whets people’s appetite.” “All that’s secondary,” Chu Yangdao said. “Have you guys thought about how many people are in FIFA’s Hall of Fame? If this episode with Ugo is a success, what will the fans of other stars think?” “They’ll definitely demand we do episodes featuring their idols,” Chen Ping said. “So should we do one episode for each star based on the Hall of Fame rankings?” “No,” Chu Yang shook his head. “To hell with rankings and all that. we’ll only feature superstars with massive fan bases, unique personalities, or distinctive traits. At most, we’ll do an episode for a superstar when they retire. Each episode should feature one or two appropriate songs, followed by a highlight reel—saves for goalkeepers, tackles for defenders, assists for midfielders, dribbles for wingers, and goals for forwards. The highlight reel should also be accompanied by some rousing music.” Chu Yang concluded by emphasizing, “We absolutely cannot cut corners on the music. If we choose well, it’s the icing on the cake; if we choose poorly, it’s overkill—or even like adding shit to the pot.” Xiao Luo fell deep in thought, and the others didn’t dare disturb him. Chen Ping and Li Jia kept glancing at Chu Yang, as if trying to read his expression, while Tian Hong was itching to ask Chu Yang a question but, after glancing at Xiao Luo, didn’t dare make a sound. “Absolute Superstar… we can do it,” Xiao Luo decided. “The specific process will be just as Chu Yang described: one *Absolute Superstar* and one *Absolute Rising Star* per episode. There must be a connection between the Superstar and the Rising Star—same country, same club, same position on the field, and so on. If there’s no connection, we’ll fabricate one to link them together. We’ll try to frame it as much as possible around themes of legacy and succession.” Tian Hongdao said, “Then we’ll have to scrap a lot of our preliminary preparations. The first episode might not be ready that quickly.” “Throw out everything from before. I want to see the finished product after the next round of league matches. Any issues involving copyrights need to be negotiated as soon as possible,” Xiao Luo said, turning to Chu Yang. “You’d better make a big splash in your next match. Also, you’ll be writing the commentary script for the first episode.” “…I’ll do my best.” Looking at Xiao Luo, whose charisma was off the charts, Chu Yang could only marvel that, indeed, one shouldn’t attribute the success of rich kids solely to their family background. “Also, we can’t just make documentaries about star players—otherwise, we shouldn’t call it *The Green Field Magnifier*; we might as well just call it *Absolute Superstars*. So…” Xiao Luo picked up the sheet of paper and pointed to the other entries, asking, “What are these?” The other three looked at the titles on the paper—“Watching Games and Listening to Music,” “The 108 Heroes of the Soccer World,” “Legendary Jerseys,” “Crazy Soccer,” and so on—and turned to Chu Yang with curiosity. Chu Yang’s lips curled up slightly as he joked, “With all these things thrown in, one lion doesn’t seem like it’ll be enough.”