Chapter 40
After relentless persuasion from his assistant, Ning Tianyou finally abandoned the idea of going after Gu Xingshi.
The Wen Corporation, despite its dominance in mobile and tech, didn’t necessarily hold as much sway in entertainment as his company, Xingmao Media. A head-on clash with Wen Yue would just mean small-scale sabotage of his projects. Plus, Wen Yue was a businessman; he wouldn’t recklessly risk his entire fortune just to settle scores.
But Gu Xingshi was a different story.
If Gu really did have connections in the government, Ning wasn’t about to rush into a death trap. A simple move from the authorities could make life difficult for him and his business. And like every major corporation, his own company had skeletons in its closet—skeletons that could easily come to light under investigation.
Though Ning Tianyou was arrogant, he wasn’t foolish.
Still, he couldn’t just let this go. If he did nothing, Wen Yue would likely retaliate with even more force. So, he decided to make a bold move. Ning poached the project director Sweet Orange Video had been working closely with. Not only did he lure away the director, but he also took all his projects along.
Sweet Orange Video was completely blindsided. At last, Ning Tianyou felt a sense of satisfaction.
The bad news soon made its way to Wen Yue’s desk.
“This is absurd. Has Ning Tianyou lost his mind?” Wen Yue was baffled.
He’d dealt with Ning Tianyou plenty before. The man, while unscrupulous, generally operated in line with business interests and avoided actions that might harm himself in the process. But this move? It made no sense.
Tang Ling was equally puzzled. If Ning’s motive was their collaboration with Ning Wenzhuo, this was hardly the best strategy. It would only push Wen Corporation closer to Ning Wenzhuo.
The more Wen Yue considered it, the less sense it made, but it was enough for him to put Ning Tianyou on his blacklist for good.
“For now, we need a new project,” Wen Yue said, drumming his fingers on the desk. “What about the contingency plan?”
Tang Ling reluctantly handed over Sweet Orange’s media department’s proposed backup plan. Unfortunately, no one had anticipated such a crisis, and the backup plan was hastily put together.
Wen Yue finished reading it, his brows still furrowed: “They’re just using this kind of thing to fool me?”
He recalled how, in recent years, Sweet Orange Video’s variety shows had grown increasingly popular, while its film and TV division had consistently declined. In his plans, this division was a crucial component—he couldn’t allow it to continue deteriorating.
He tossed the backup plan back to Tang Ling and said coldly, “Tell Peng Zhongcheng this is his last chance. If he can’t do the job right, he should take the initiative to leave.”
Peng Zhongcheng was another deputy general manager at Sweet Orange, specifically in charge of the film and TV division.
Tang Ling, unphased, responded, “Understood.”
After giving those instructions, Wen Yue turned his focus back to his work. But just as Tang Ling was about to leave, he paused and said, “Wait.”
Tang Ling stopped. “Yes, Mr. Wen? Anything else?”
Wen Yue, seemingly indifferent, asked, “That matter I assigned to you regarding LeShi’s CEO, Mr. Gu—how is that coming along?”
Tang Ling was momentarily taken aback. Wen Yue was usually too occupied with bigger matters to be concerned with small details like this. Why was he so interested today?
Still, being the ever-competent assistant, he quickly composed himself. “Here’s the situation: Mr. Gu recently signed a new actor, so I had Sweet Orange’s team invest fifty million in the project he’s involved with.”
Fifty million wasn’t a small amount, but considering it was Wen Yue’s thank-you gift, it was reasonable.
As Wen Yue recalled Gu Xingshi’s clear, carefree smile, he felt a flicker of curiosity. Gu had an impressive knack for spotting talent in the idol industry—Wen wondered if he’d show the same insight in picking actors. What kind of project had he decided to support this time?
Tang Ling hesitated briefly. “The new artist’s name is Qin Wen. He’s not a trained actor.”
Wen Yue replied, “Whether he’s formally trained doesn’t matter. Many renowned actors aren’t. I assume there’s something unique about him that attracted Gu?”
Tang Ling replied, “Apparently, this Qin Wen once went undercover with over a dozen identities to avenge his sister, fooling a company’s entire upper management. Mr. Gu was reportedly impressed by his skills and decided to sign him.”
Wen Yue was speechless for a moment.
Although it sounded far-fetched, it seemed like a testament to the young man’s acting abilities.
Trying to convince himself, Wen Yue continued, “What about the project? Pull up the project proposal; I’d like to see it.”
Tang Ling hesitated again. “Mr. Wen, this is still the initial proposal. I’ve heard that the director has made significant revisions. Perhaps…”
Wen Yue cut him off, “It’s fine; I just want to take a look.”
Tang Ling felt resigned. He pulled up the project proposal, handing it over as though preparing for the worst.
Wen Yue opened the document, only to be met with the title Secrets of the Six Doors, which practically screamed “low-budget flop.” Brows furrowing, he skimmed through the content—a bland series of clichéd plots, with barely a redeeming quality in sight.
Rubbing his temples, Wen Yue tried to reassure himself. Perhaps Gu Xingshi, as a talent manager, wasn’t well-versed in film and TV storytelling. But he had good instincts about people, so maybe it was the cast that drew him to the project?
Tang Ling sighed inwardly and answered Wen Yue’s question. “The director’s name is Gao Shen. This is his first time directing, though he’s worked as a screenwriter.”
Wen Yue’s eyebrow raised. “And the lead cast?”
“The male lead is played by Jiang Hanjing, who’s mostly known for secondary roles—this is his first time as a main character. The female lead is Xia Ruoying, who’s mostly done romance dramas; this is her first time in a suspense role.”
Wen Yue: “??”
Tang Ling: “Originally, the villain was supposed to be played by Wu Tao, but on the day of the script reading, it was discovered that he was a heavy gambler with high-interest debt. He even planned to install cameras in the bathroom to secretly photograph the other cast members’ private moments and sell them on the black market. He was immediately handed over to the police.”
Wen Yue: “??”
For a moment, he wondered if he was hearing things.
The more he heard about this production, the more it sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
He couldn’t help but ask, “What kind of favor does Gu Xingshi owe the production team to get involved with this?”
“That’s not the case,” Tang Ling replied truthfully. “Apparently, Mr. Gu took his artist to audition on his own initiative. The original investor pulled out because of superstitions, and Mr. Gu, feeling indignant, kept advocating for the team.”
Wen Yue was speechless.
To be honest, he was reluctant to believe that someone who understood him so well—whom he considered something of a confidant—could have such questionable taste. But the facts were laid bare before him.
He wasn’t sure what he felt at that moment, but he tried to comfort himself one last time.
After all, the best projects out there are snatched up by major production companies as soon as they appear. For a small company like LeShi Entertainment, whatever they could access probably wasn’t going to be top-tier material. This show must have some redeeming qualities… right?
Still, Wen Yue couldn’t bring himself to look at that project proposal again.
Noticing Wen Yue’s furrowed brow, Tang Ling felt a pang of unease.
When Sun Hongfei initially sent the investment plan to him, he had his reservations. However, Sun emphasized that Mr. Gu was highly satisfied with the production. Since it was a thank-you gesture, Tang Ling reasoned that it was best to match the gift to the recipient’s preferences. And to be fair, he also trusted Gu Xingshi’s judgment, but looking back, maybe he’d been too hasty.
He wasn’t particularly concerned about being reprimanded by Wen, but he did feel a bit sorry for Gu.
Wen Yue had high standards, and it was rare for anyone to make an impression on him. Though this gift was meant as a gesture of thanks, it was also a trial partnership. If Gu could seize this opportunity, it could open the door to many more collaborations, which would be a huge boon for LeShi.
Unfortunately…
Wen Yue rarely gave anyone a second chance.
But to his shock, Wen Yue’s next words were:
“Add this show to next year’s promo lineup… Actually, never mind the assessment. Assign it a D-level promotional budget.”
Tang Ling was stunned.
While it was just the lowest D-level support, still… for a show that was clearly doomed?
Was this even the real Wen Yue? Was someone impersonating him?
Noticing Tang Ling’s hesitation, Wen Yue looked up and asked, “Is there an issue?”
Tang Ling snapped out of it and replied instantly, “No, no problem. I’ll get on it right away.”
Tang Ling moved quickly, relaying Wen Yue’s instructions to Sun Hongfei soon after returning.
Sun Hongfei was baffled: “Starting the promotional planning so early? We haven’t even finished filming yet!”
Only S-tier productions usually received this kind of pre-release marketing support!
The project director’s departure was still confidential, so Tang Ling couldn’t elaborate and simply said, “Just get it started. I’m swamped here—try not to call unless it’s urgent,” before hanging up.
Completely puzzled, Sun Hongfei reviewed the file and noted the D-level promotional resources assigned, leaving him even more confused.
“Is this right? Just D-level support for Gu’s show?”
D-level resources at Sweet Orange Video were actually decent, but given Gu’s relationship with Wen, Sun thought it might at least merit a B-level allocation. He’d already reviewed the sample footage from Director Gao, and it was exceptional.
In fact, the quality was good enough to outperform many S+ series. Even an A-level promotion wouldn’t have been out of place.
He wanted to ask Tang Ling about it, but the line was perpetually busy. Reluctantly, Sun decided to proceed with the current plan, reasoning that if it were a mistake, increasing promotional resources later would only take a word from Wen.
*
Jin Shiheng, after his embarrassing detainment at Sanyang Film City, had finally returned to Beijing, still stewing over how Sun Hongfei had wronged him while acting as if nothing had happened. This deepened Jin’s resolve to find a way to outmaneuver him. He vowed to earn Gu’s trust and ultimately replace Sun.
But, as their roles rarely overlapped, Jin had few ways to take action.
Patience was Jin’s strong suit, though, and it soon paid off.
An opportunity presented itself, with a gleaming prospect: a promo plan for Sun’s new project that had just come across his desk.
Jin distinctly recalled that their marketing department had not drafted any proposal for this show.
When he opened the plan, he found it devoid of evaluations, lacking in detail—a promotional patchwork hastily thrown together.
It almost slipped by undetected because it was labeled as D-level, a level typically requiring only cursory approval. Sun Hongfei must have intended to exploit this loophole to get it through unnoticed.
Digging deeper, Jin pulled up the project outline and almost squinted at the garishness.
With his decade in the marketing department, he could confidently declare: this was a disaster waiting to happen.
It made sense now. Sun Hongfei, desperate to please Gu, was trying to shove it through without proper vetting.
Jin initially wanted to report this outright.
He previously reported to Deputy General Manager Pang, who was in charge of the film department. Recently, Pang seemed to be in some trouble and was quite stressed.
If he informed Pang about this matter, it could be a favorable move for him.
But…
Would helping Pang benefit him at all?
Jin Shiheng hesitated, but soon devised a better plan.
He retyped the project’s promotional plan, changing the D-level rating to an A-level, and instructed a trusted subordinate to deliver it to Sun Hongfei during his busiest hours, saying it needed re-signing due to a formatting error.
“Formatting error?” Sun Hongfei frowned but didn’t think much of it. As he took the document to sign, his cautious nature prompted him to flip through it, and he stopped.
He noticed the A-level resource allocation at a glance.
Any previous doubts quickly melted away.
That explained it! Assistant Tang must have been too busy and made a mistake, perhaps not wanting to trouble Gu or risk Wen getting upset. This “formatting error” excuse was likely a discreet way to ensure accuracy.
Oh, Assistant Tang, you’re overthinking! Sun Hongfei would never become an obstacle to Wen and Gu’s romance!
On the contrary, he was rooting for their happily-ever-after!
Moreover, it was an unwritten rule not to expose a supervisor’s mistakes directly.
With that, Sun Hongfei signed the document without any further calls to Tang Ling.
Meanwhile, Jin Shiheng paced his office, feeling slightly anxious.
This was a risky move. If Sun Hongfei caught on, things could get dicey.
But he figured Sun was equally wary of anyone discovering his underhanded methods and would likely remain silent even if he did notice. Worst case, they’d argue about it—and Jin was hardly afraid of a confrontation.
Just then, his trusted subordinate walked in with the signed plan.
“Did he sign it?” Jin asked eagerly.
The subordinate nodded. “Yes, he signed it without any fuss.”
Jin relaxed, a sinister glint in his eyes as he looked at Sun Hongfei’s sweeping signature.
Sun Hongfei, you’re finished this time!
*
Gu Xingshi arrived with a bouquet at the filming location for Secrets of the Six Gates.
Thanks to the ample budget, Director Gao Shen had invested heavily in the set design, costumes, and makeup. The production had a sense of historical authenticity, rather than the typical, cheap photo studio vibe. The result was a set rich in historical depth.
The movie is mainly about the Six-Fan Gate organization that handled high-profile cases involving the martial arts world, Director Gao even hired etiquette teachers and historical consultants to authentically recreate the cultural atmosphere of the Ming Dynasty.
Now, Secrets of the Six Gates had transformed into something entirely different from the initial project proposal.
Today was Qin Wen’s final day on set.
Qin Wen’s character, Yu Changyan, began as a refined and graceful young noble who, by chance, encountered the male lead Xiao Nanyuan (played by Jiang Hanjing) and the female lead Rong Yu (played by Xia Ruoying) during a case, becoming friends with them.
In the early part of the story, Yu Changyan seems like a gullible rich young man, always spending money on behalf of others. Though secretly in love with Rong Yu, he chooses to give up his feelings for the sake of his friend, Xiao Nanyuan.
But as the plot develops, Xiao Nanyuan and his allies discover that the cases they’re investigating lead to a mysterious cult with plans to overthrow the imperial court. The deeper they dig, the more unsettling the revelations, yet the cult remains elusive, leaving only sparse clues behind.
Eventually, Xiao Nanyuan decides to use himself as bait to lure out the cult members. He keeps his plan a secret from his friends, hoping to infiltrate the heart of the cult. However, at the critical moment, Yu Changyan unexpectedly intervenes, shielding Xiao Nanyuan and getting captured by the cult instead.
Xiao Nanyuan is wracked with guilt, and Rong Yu nearly cuts ties with him over it. Determined to make things right, Xiao Nanyuan sets off to rescue Yu Changyan.
After facing numerous hardships, he finally finds Yu Changyan locked in a cell, only to be stabbed in the chest by his “friend.” If not for Rong Yu arriving in time to save him, Xiao Nanyuan might have met his end right there.
It turns out that Rong Yu, upon reviewing previous case files, sensed something off and began re-investigating Yu Changyan, uncovering his hidden motives.
Yu Changyan’s strike was deep and precise, hitting a vital spot without a trace of hesitation, as if their friendship meant nothing. However, Xiao Nanyuan survives only due to a congenital anomaly placing his heart on the opposite side.
From there, Xiao Nanyuan and Rong Yu join forces for a final confrontation with Yu Changyan. Though still dressed as before, Yu Changyan’s demeanor has shifted entirely, his aura now that of a calculated warlord.
Often, final battles like these are disappointing in dramas—either the villain becomes inexplicably foolish, or remnants of their old friendship make them hesitate. But in Gao Shen’s script, the clash is anything but predictable.
In this climactic duel, each side battles fiercely, with both protagonists repeatedly on the verge of defeat.
Ultimately, it’s not the protagonists who defeat Yu Changyan, but rather the imperial army’s strategic ambush. Yu Changyan finds himself cornered in the mountains, with nowhere left to run.
Xiao Nanyuan and Rong Yu climb the mountain to confront him one last time.
Despite his horrific deeds—instigating countless murders, hiding his true identity, betraying friends and family—Yu Changyan remains composed, almost like a mentor, advising them.
He confesses that he initially sought power only to advocate for the common people. Yet his power grew beyond his control, leading to this disastrous outcome.
But Yu Changyan also tells them that, while they continue to investigate petty crimes, they will never be allowed to touch the truly significant cases. To make a real difference, they must climb higher, gain authority, and wield it to enact change. Without power, they’ll always remain insignificant.
Yu Changyan has always known how to strike a chord, but this time he’s not trying to escape. Instead, he takes his own life, a smirk lingering on his face as if to ask the protagonists: “I’ve paved the path forward—do you dare step into the vortex of power, just as I did?”
This climactic scene ties together every hint and metaphor from the story’s beginning.
It is the most gripping moment of the series.
Yu Changyan’s death leaves viewers with the lingering question of whether power is worth the sacrifice he made.
The scene is deceptively simple but demands impeccable skill from Qin Wen as an actor.
The set was silent, save for the hum of the camera, which zoomed in on Qin Wen.
After delivering his final lines, Qin Wen raised the sword to his neck and made a deliberate, sharp cut. In the instant when blood spurted, Gu Xingshi noticed the faint, knowing smile on Qin Wen’s face, as if he already foresaw Xiao Nanyuan and Rong Yu’s choices.
At that moment, a shiver ran down Gu Xingshi’s spine, raising goosebumps across his skin.
Right after, he heard Gao Shen shout, “CUT! Perfect!”
Qin Wen lay motionless on the ground, only getting up after all the cameras had stopped rolling.
Gu Xingshi finally snapped out of his daze, stepping forward to hand him the bouquet. “Congratulations on wrapping up filming!”
Qin Wen met Gu Xingshi’s gaze, letting out a long breath. It was as if he had only just returned to reality, with the spirit of Yu Changyan slowly departing from his body. Accepting the flowers, he pressed his lips together and offered a small smile. “Thank you.”
The remaining scenes no longer involved Qin Wen; the head scene, for example, would be completed with props and post-production effects.
After collecting his farewell gift and enjoying the wrap-up cake, Gu Xingshi took Qin Wen back to Beijing.
At the airport, Gu Xingshi’s thoughts returned to the powerful scene he’d just witnessed, leaving him a bit stirred. Though the series was still unfinished, he could sense its quality. Now, he only wondered what promotional resources Sweet Orange Video would allocate to it.
Gao Shen had mentioned before that typically only blockbuster shows or in-house productions received strong promotional resources, while projects like theirs often had to make do with whatever was left. Still, Gao Shen was optimistic; he had faith that the quality alone would let the show go viral, even with limited promo.
Gu Xingshi had considered asking Sun Hongfei about it. But since promo plans are closely guarded company secrets, and Sun had already helped them so much, he didn’t want to put him in a tough spot.
Gu Xingshi sighed inwardly. [System, system! Why aren’t you a wish-granting system? Then I could just wish for the best promotional resources!]
System: […]
The system let out a cold laugh, responding with a sarcastic tone, [Sorry, but I’m just a useless gossip system, it seems!]
But in the very next second, Gu Xingshi received a call from Gao Shen. Gao Shen’s voice was almost unrecognizable from excitement. “Gu Xingshi! I just heard—we got A-level promotional resources! Oh my god, it’s like a miracle! I can’t even believe it! What kind of magician are you and Sun Hongfei to pull off something this insane?!”
Gu Xingshi: […]
System: […]
System: [Host, calm down! Take back all those random wishes! I’m really just a useless gossip system!!!]
Happy Holidays! Thanks for the chapter! The goddess of luck strikes again, lol