For convenience, let's refer to "The Gangnam Prince of Towel Hot Springs" simply as "The Prince."
He stood unhurriedly in the hallway, waiting for his turn, with a bodyguard in a black suit, sunglasses, and a red tie behind him—silent, playing the role of an elite enforcer.
This was another staple of Japanese and Korean variety shows: the "mysterious bodyguard" trope.
"Can you win?" One of the celebrity judges, Jin Yong-no, taunted. "Facing such a strong challenger—can love songs really defeat everyone? I feel like your ballads are outdated. Should I teach you how to sing them properly?"
Jin Yong-no, a permanent fixture on the judging panel, was born in the 1970s. A famous comedian who debuted at fifteen, he was a "senior" in the industry, which gave him the privilege of speaking bluntly to contestants.
"I will perform a song that's both familiar and unexpected," the Prince replied, his voice deliberately affected. "Victory has always been by my side. Once I finish singing, I'll grasp it in my hands."
The Prince, born in 1986, was Shin Young-oh in real life. He had debuted in three different groups, twice as the main vocalist, and his skills were rock-solid—arguably one of the best singers of his generation in Korea. He had even won awards for his performances in musicals.
The only problem? His looks were painfully average.
The CEO of SM Entertainment once remarked:
"That damn Shin Young-oh—if he'd just gotten some plastic surgery to stand out, he'd have been huge by now."
Host Kim Sung-joo intervened:
"The Gangnam Prince's voice is like a hot spring—soothing every inch of your skin. Yong-no hyung, don't underestimate him."
"A 'Prince'? Hah! I was called 'Prince' by girls when I was young. Aish, let's see if this guy has even half my charm." Jin Yong-no crossed his arms, his face scrunched in exaggerated judgment. With his rough features, he was practically born to play the villain.
The editing team would probably slap a subtitle like [Yong-no's Disdain] over this moment later.
Then—la la la la—the classic sound effect signaled the start of the performance.
The Prince's outfit resembled a bathrobe, and his mask was a cartoonish royal figure, covering everything—even his hair.
A melancholic piano melody began.
Shin Young-oh's voice filled the room:
"Is leaving me your happiness?
When you grow weary, I'll silently see you off..."
The lyrics and melody instantly gripped the audience—this was a tune practically engraved in the DNA of every Korean.
"Is this… 'Azalea Flowers'?" Host Kim Sung-joo murmured uncertainly.
"The lyrics are adapted from 'Azalea Flowers,' but the melody is rearranged from the folk song," judge Sung Yoon clarified.
Sung Yoon and Jin Yong-no were the two senior judges who anchored the show. While Yong-no stirred controversy with his sharp tongue, Sung Yoon was a national treasure—a singer who had performed at the 2012 Yeosu Expo. His role was to provide actual vocal critiques.
"Wait, 'Azalea Flowers' is a folk song, right? The original lyrics aren't like this," Jin Yong-no frowned.
"The poem was originally written by Kim Sowol, then adapted into a folk song," Sung Yoon said dryly. "Didn't you study literature in school? This was mandatory memorization."
"Aish, this bastard's singing is making me emotional," Yong-no grumbled, changing the subject. (His education had been in the U.S., so his Korean cultural knowledge was spotty.)
The 88 audience members listened intently.
The Prince's voice deepened with sorrow:
"Step lightly, petal by petal…
Walk softly as you leave..."
As Jin Yong-no had said, Shin Young-oh excelled at love songs. Azalea Flowers originally expressed a woman's longing for her lover, but his modified lyrics, paired with his rich lower register, turned it into a heart-wrenching ballad.
By the end, it felt like listening to a man abandoned by a cruel lover—yet still devoted.
Backstage, PD Myeong Nam-jik watched the live feed and couldn't help clapping. This was a guaranteed win. Shin Young-oh had delivered his best performance yet.
"BRAVO!" The audience erupted in applause, some even visibly moved.
"Aish, you really are the 'Prince of Ballads'—you almost made me cry!" Jin Yong-no dramatically wiped imaginary tears.
"So beautiful… This is the voice I've always dreamed of."
"I loved it."
"Is it over? Even better than the original folk song."
The other judges—mostly idols there for exposure—could only offer generic praise.
Sung Yoon gave the final verdict:
"The Prince has definitely been singing for over a decade. Rearranging a folk song this iconic is risky—we've heard it since childhood. But you made it work, playing to your strengths and pouring emotion into every word."
In the waiting room, the remaining three contestants—including Chu Zhi—reacted differently.
"The Singing Lantern", the other challenger, shot Chu Zhi a sympathetic glance (not that anyone could see it through the mask). Facing such a powerhouse right out the gate was brutal.
"The Spinning Lady" (hidden behind a wooden horse mask) wore a grim expression. If she won her next match, she'd have to face the Prince in the finals. The pressure was on.
Then—
"Jae-hee, pass me my bag," Chu Zhi suddenly said.
Kim Jae-hee hurriedly handed over the bag. To his shock, Chu Zhi pulled out a bottle of Luzhou Laojiao—a 52% ABV strong-aroma baijiu.
(How did he get it in Korea? Simple: travelers are allowed to bring two bottles under 1.5L total.)
"Aish—what the—?" Jae-hee almost asked if it was water in the bottle, but the pungent alcoholic scent the moment the cap came off answered his question.
Chu Zhi recalled his earlier experiments:
3 taels (≈150ml) = "30% tipsy, talent awakened."
5 taels (≈250ml) = "50% drunk, godlike performance."
So he chugged five mouthfuls—250ml straight.
(Note: Only because of his "Golden Throat" pills could he dare do this without wrecking his voice.)
"..."
"..."
The Spinning Lady and The Singing Lantern were stunned.
What kind of madman drinks before singing?!
Even PD Myeong Nam-jik, watching from the control room, was baffled. After a long pause, he muttered:
"Did Shin Young-oh scare him so badly he needs liquid courage?"
But… that didn't seem right.
Chu Zhi ignored the stares. As he stood up, his mind was crystal clear, only four words echoing:
"Give me the mic."
Time to unveil the "blind box" he'd prepared:
Title: "Immortal of Wine"
Album: Still Fantasy
Song: Opera (Оперная)
[Immortal of Wine – Legendary Title]
"The Emperor calls, but I won't board the boat— I declare myself the Immortal of Wine."
Effects:
1/10 drunk: Slight talent boost
3/10 drunk: Noticeable skill enhancement
5/10 drunk: Godlike performance
9/10 drunk: "I am no longer human."
(Warning: 10/10 drunk = alcohol poisoning.)
This was why Chu Zhi's instrument skills improved when drinking—the title didn't just affect music, but all artistic abilities.
Still Fantasy contained hits like "Chrysanthemum Terrace," "Herbal Manual," and "Chapter of the Night"—any of which could dominate the competition.
But Chu Zhi had a different plan.
He would stun them all with Opera—Vitas' wordless masterpiece.
While Opera #2 was more famous, the original Opera was harder to sing. The second relied on technical skill, but the first required both skill and innate vocal beauty. Even a powerhouse like Terry Lin couldn't fully do it justice.
High-energy warning: The storm is coming.