Chapter 60: Super Girl, Speedy Boy
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Seeing her mother lost in thought, clearly not quite understanding the words “equality” and “era” from earlier, Chai Xiao didn’t wait for her to ask and spoke with a hint of melancholy.
“After all, this matchmaking event carries the task of raising silver. So even after respecting equality, money still matters!”
“For the three tiers—Honor, Prestige, and Nobility—the audience can convert their tickets into points for voting.”
“For the Honor tier, spending ten wen means one ticket equals ten points.”
“For the Prestige tier, spending fifty wen means one ticket equals fifty points.”
“For the Nobility tier, tickets range from one hundred to five hundred wen, equating to one hundred to five hundred points respectively.”
“To increase points further, one must buy point cards, which can be topped up anytime!”
“In the final evaluation, renowned martial artists only account for a certain percentage—say a thousand points—the rest depends entirely on public votes!”
Yun Shufei curled her lips in disdain.
“That means it still comes down to whoever spends more money, whose points count for more!”
Chai Xiao nodded.
“Exactly! From this perspective, point-based voting actually promotes the first goal, which is ticket sales.”
Yun Shufei nodded thoughtfully.
“You’re quite impressive in this—you never consider things in isolation but always keep the bigger picture in mind. Rare indeed!”
“But the ticket prices correspond to specific points, so those standing outside the Nobility and Prestige tiers can only spend one wen each to buy points.”
“Even if the entire city of forty or fifty thousand people all spent one wen, that’s only around forty or fifty taels of silver!”
Chai Xiao smiled and shook his head.
“Mother, one wen equals one point, yes—but that doesn’t mean a person can only buy one point.”
Yun Shufei pondered.
“If there’s no limit on purchases, many people would buy, but even then, it’s unlikely to rack up tens of thousands of taels!”
Chai Xiao smiled gently and pulled out two hundred taels of silver notes he had earned from the Second Prince, “Firewood.”
Yun Shufei immediately grew anxious.
“You brat, that two hundred taels was meant as your allowance for food and drink—don’t use it for gambling!”
“Besides, I’m out of money!”
“Tell me, how many people would have to buy points to raise tens of thousands of taels?”
Chai Xiao just smiled.
He couldn’t organize precise words to convince his mother it wasn’t difficult.
If only he could travel through time and space to bring her back to the modern era to witness a “talent show” firsthand.
Hearing is not as good as seeing.
No need to show her today’s wildly popular variety or talk shows; those came later.
Just a minute’s glimpse of the original talent show “Super Girl” would be enough to ignite passion.
“Super Girl” held its first contest in 2004, then exploded in popularity during its second year in 2005—truly a frenzy.
Nearly 150,000 contestants signed up, ages ranging from four to eighty-nine, from all walks of life.
Driven by love for music and the stage, they poured into this talent feast.
The program attracted over 400 million views; the final three’s ratings peaked at 11.65%, with a highest share of 49%.
In other words, nearly half of all China watched the final.
These records still stand unbroken in television history.
From cities to countryside, people passionately discussed the contestants’ performances after meals and tea.
What stood out most was the interaction between contestants and fans—the “traffic” or fan base that Chai Xiao had mentioned.
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Fans were nearly fanatical, adopting exclusive names.
Fans of Li Yuchun were called “Corn,” Zhou Bichang’s fans were “Pen Kin,” and Zhang Liangying’s fans “Cold Jelly.”
This tradition continues today, with self-organized fan clubs in every city.
They communicate through forums and chat groups, take to the streets campaigning for their idols, and even travel thousands of miles to cheer at live events.
Many fans privately pool money to buy phone cards for voting.
Such passion and fanaticism are astonishing.
The fan economy was defined and rapidly rose that year, boosting idols’ popularity tremendously.
Ultimately, Li Yuchun won with 3.53 million votes; Zhou Bichang and Zhang Liangying followed with 3.27 million and 1.35 million votes respectively.
What’s more remarkable is the diversity of styles showcasing a multifaceted cultural charm.
Li Yuchun and Zhou Bichang’s androgynous styles, Zhang Liangying’s mature vocal skills and aesthetic appearance.
Ji Minjia and Huang Yali also didn’t fit traditional “star looks.”
Each unique and flourishing, they showed the possibility of ordinary people shining on stage.
That year, Li Yuchun graced the cover of the Asian edition of Time magazine, named “Asian Hero of the Year.”
Not only a personal honor but a reflection of China's influence in talent shows and youthful cultural creativity.
“Super Girl” was just the beginning; “Happy Boys” followed, even more explosive.
This show produced major stars like Chen Chusheng, Zhang Jie, and Hua Chenyu, who remain active in the music scene.
Later shows like “The Voice” and “I Am a Singer” extended and enhanced this legacy.
So for the Da Xu era, martial matchmaking was akin to their “Super Girl” and “Happy Boys.”
Young ladies sang freely, young men dueled while carrying sedan chairs—both unprecedented.
Success was only a matter of time.
The key was how to transplant each fiery element from “Super Girl” and “Happy Boys” into the competition to ignite excitement one by one.
Chai Xiao decided to simplify and still relied on the two hundred taels of silver notes won from the Second Prince’s “Beauty Pillow” bet to gamble with Yun Shufei.
“Mother, consider this two hundred taels as credit from me, and I bet you still have five taels left!”
“Pah!”
Yun Shufei spat and shook her head vigorously.
“Trying to provoke me with two hundred taels against five taels? I’m not falling for it!”
Chai Xiao remained unfazed, jingling the silver notes.
“Then let’s bet this: before the second day’s elimination battle, at least one martial artist will have accumulated points exceeding two hundred taels!”
Yun Shufei paused, calculating inwardly.
One wen per point, two hundred taels equals two hundred thousand points—impossible, right?
If someone managed two hundred taels’ worth of points before the top thirty-two, it might mean nearly ten thousand taels in total!
Chai Xiao saw her doubt.
“Mother, think about it—this is the entire royal house recruiting a husband for Princess Chilian!”
“Though nobles like Da Xu don’t have the lavish wealth of some playboys in the capital…”
“But spending a hundred or two hundred taels to ensure their candidate tops the public opinion rankings is surely worth it.”
“As the saying goes, when you have no money, you support the show; when you have money, you support the money itself!”
“For example, a certain official from Xu State who later became a senior councilor in the Da Qi administration, now retired but still respected.”
“He wants to maintain his family’s honor and will treat this matchmaking as a major affair, mobilizing talented clan members to participate.”
“He saved plenty during his service and has no shortage of funds. What he lacks now are position and royal connections.”
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“So he’ll spare no expense buying public opinion points that build bridges to ‘office’ and ‘royal ties’!”
This struck a chord with Yun Shufei.
“Alright! Since you’re so confident, I’ll give it a try!”
“But if no martial artist gets two hundred thousand points in the first two days of round-robin battles, your two hundred taels on credit become mine!”
Having said that, she quickly reached to snatch the silver notes from her son.
But to her surprise, she couldn’t wrest them free.
This boy clutches his money tightly—a true money-grabbing beast!
Thinking of this, she suddenly asked,
“If one wen equals one point, why not just use silver directly? Why bother with point cards?”
“Isn’t that just pointless—doing something unnecessary?”
Chai Xiao blinked and explained the modern “Super Girl” voting system, where fans pool money to buy phone cards for votes.
“Mother, using silver directly would mean the audience is giving money straight away!”
“That would give the troublemakers in court a perfect excuse.”
“Even if they don’t see it, Second Prince ‘Firewood’ would use it to threaten us.”
“But with point cards, an extra step exists—it’s like buying a marker for public opinion, much safer!”
“They’re just pieces of paper, stamped to represent one, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand, or a hundred thousand points.”
“This is much simpler than minting coins, right?”
Hearing the word “minting,” Yun Shufei’s eyes widened.
On reflection, it was indeed so!
These “point cards,” in the public opinion stage, are essentially equivalent to silver but far more convenient.
No need to report to the court, no need to gather brass, lead, tin, or worry about complex manufacturing.
In Da Qi, following Tang law, private coin minting is a serious crime.
“Private minting means exile for three thousand miles; possessing minting tools but not minting is two years’ imprisonment; without tools is one hundred strokes of the cane.”
Using these simple point cards avoids all that risk.
A worthwhile trade!
Yun Shufei’s expression turned serious.
“Good!”
“I’ll take charge of this big matter!”
“You don’t have anything else, do you?”
Chai Xiao smiled.
“Didn’t I say this was just the first revenue method? There’s one more.”
Yun Shufei, exhausted but resolute, sat up straight.
“Speak! This is the last one!”
“What?”
When she heard Chai Xiao softly say “last,” her jaw nearly dropped.
“Single-match lottery?”
“Isn’t that blatant gambling?”