After Spectating Gossip, the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Big Shot – CH68

Chapter 68

As the final scene of The Ghostly Gate ended, Gu Xingshi clearly heard the collective sigh of relief behind him.

A moment later, the theater erupted in applause, with whistles and shouts of “Thrilling!” scattered throughout the crowd.

Pei Zhuozhi sat dazed in his seat. This scene was one he had imagined countless times, even witnessed in smaller screenings before. But now, it feels almost dreamlike.

He couldn’t help but think that without President Gu, all of this might really have just remained a dream.

“Director Pei, it’s time for the interviews!” The words from a crew member snapped Pei back to reality.

“Coming,” he replied, wiping the corners of his eyes before leading the cast and crew onto the stage.

The media’s response was overwhelmingly enthusiastic. Reporters had an instinct for these things; they could sense when a film had potential to succeed. And with such a positive audience reaction, it was hard for anyone to miss the energy in the room.

“Director Pei, what was your vision behind this film? Does the door symbol at the end hint at a sequel?”

“Qin Wen, this was your first time as the lead. What was different about this experience? Any interesting stories from filming?”

“Qianwei! Your performance was remarkable. What was behind such a leap in your acting skills?”

“Yan Xiang…”

*

Standing below the stage, Gu Xingshi watched the cast and crew with a broad smile. It was as if he had nurtured a seed that no one believed in, carefully tending to it until it finally bloomed before everyone’s eyes. The sense of accomplishment was priceless.

Next to him, Wen Yue couldn’t keep his gaze off him.

There was something different about Gu Xingshi tonight, a light that seemed even brighter than usual—perhaps because this was his domain.

Most people saw Gu as a vine, relying on others to grow. Yet here he was, flourishing as a strong tree in his own right.

For the first time, Wen Yue understood why, even though they worked so well together, Gu Xingshi continued to seek new collaborators.

It wasn’t that Gu disliked him. He simply didn’t want to be a vine clinging to any tree.

Gu knew exactly what he wanted from the beginning. He was never a trailing plant bending to the will of others—he was someone determined to take the reins himself.

Realizing this, Wen didn’t feel rejected. Instead, he was stirred, watching Gu’s confident stance, feeling his pulse quicken. The slight misgivings he once had disappeared, replaced by an even deeper sense of admiration.

More than locking Gu away, Wen wanted to see him riding tall and proud.

“President Gu,” Wen spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of roughness.

Gu Xingshi looked at him curiously. “Hm?”

“Next month, I’m hosting a gathering with President Zhan from Taosheng Capital, the Lan siblings from Capital Entertainment, and a few other industry leaders. I’d be honored if you would attend.”

Gu blinked, taken aback.

The names Wen mentioned included nearly every major player in the Beijing film industry. Meeting just one of them would be a monumental feat for most, yet Wen could easily bring them all together under one roof.

This was an invitation worth its weight in gold—an invaluable gesture.

But why would Wen do this for him?

Gu Xingshi glanced at Wen, who was watching him intently.

A strange emotion flickered within him, something he couldn’t quite name.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, the cast on stage called for him, and the journalists turned their cameras toward him.

They would have to put this conversation on hold.

Gu stepped onto the stage, surrounded by everyone.

It was no secret that The Ghostly Gate had been pieced together by Gu Xingshi himself. He was its greatest advocate, the one who had overseen it from inception to premiere.

Where the critics once saw an inexperienced director and writer, they now saw Gu’s talent for spotting potential.

Especially with Bu Qianwei’s unexpected leap in performance, Director Pei repeatedly credited Gu Xingshi with coming up with the idea that brought her talent to life, which only fueled the crowd’s curiosity further.

As soon as Gu took the stage, the sea of cameras and the rapid-fire questions from the reporters all focused on him, their energy crackling like fireworks in the room.

Gu Xingshi handled the media with a calm, confident demeanor, speaking with poise and grace. Occasionally, he even threw in a witty remark or two, easily breaking the tension and keeping the crowd engaged.

From the sidelines, Wen Yue’s lips curved in the faintest smile. He gazed at Gu Xingshi for a moment longer, a rare warmth in his eyes, before quietly slipping away from the scene.

*

In stark contrast to The Ghostly Gate’s lively atmosphere, The Legend of Yunshan 2 ended to a silent theater, followed by only a smattering of applause.

Fang Ming startled awake, rubbing his drowsy eyes and looking around, bewildered by the now-lit theater. It’s over already?

Only then did he realize that he had fallen asleep.

When the film began, he’d felt a rush of excitement with the stunning visuals and intricate costumes. The star-studded cast made their grand entrances one by one, eliciting awestruck gasps from the audience.

But that excitement only lasted ten minutes. Soon, the film’s plodding, chaotic plot and sluggish pacing left Fang Ming’s mind wandering, his eyelids drooping. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t keep himself from dozing off.

Glancing around, he saw he wasn’t alone; many others looked equally groggy, stifling yawns and rubbing their faces.

This wasn’t right.

Anxious now, Fang Ming couldn’t shake his unease. The first The Legend of Yunshan had been a smash hit. How had The Legend of Yunshan 2 ended up like this? The storyline felt incoherent, the editing was choppy, and the stars merely appeared briefly, one after another, as if on a conveyor belt.

By the end, he had no idea what he’d just watched.

If he felt this way, he could only imagine how much harsher the journalists were going to be.

And indeed, during the post-screening interview, they didn’t hold back, throwing one sharp question after another. The director and cast visibly struggled, and the interview concluded with the director storming offstage in frustration.

For the investors, this was a nightmare. They could already envision the scathing headlines, knowing the press would likely tear the film apart and damage its reputation.

Yet, no matter how infuriated they were, they had no choice but to try to contain the fallout for the sake of ticket sales.

Fang Ming was seething, especially when he opened Weibo to see nothing but glowing reviews for The Ghostly Gate. His frustration hit an all-time high.

To top it off, the same investor who’d made a bet with him earlier called with thinly veiled glee, saying, “President Fang, did you see the forecast for The Ghostly Gate? They’re predicting five hundred million at the box office! I’m telling you, if a domestic horror film actually hits that, calling Gu Xingshi ‘Daddy’ would be well worth it!”

“Get lost!” Fang Ming snarled, hanging up in anger.

Still, the sense of unease in his heart wouldn’t subside. At least The Legend of Yunshan 2 had more screenings and ticket sales than The Ghostly Gate, which was his only consolation.

But that relief was short-lived. Within days, online criticism of The Legend of Yunshan 2 exploded, shattering any confidence he had left.

[I went in with high hopes, but halfway through, I just couldn’t take it and walked out. Total waste of a ticket. Should’ve watched The Ghostly Gate instead!]

[This is a classic case of trying to go big, and ending up with a massive flop.]

[Can the paid reviewers just stop? You can report me a thousand times, and I’ll still say it—The Legend of Yunshan 2 was awful!]

Despite the PR team’s best efforts to salvage The Legend of Yunshan 2, its attendance rate continued to plummet. In contrast, The Ghostly Gate was seeing a surge in ticket sales, even surpassing its opening day numbers over the past few days.

Fang Ming could only watch helplessly as The Ghostly Gate’s box office revenue eclipsed The Legend of Yunshan 2, with its screenings increasing, gradually squeezing The Legend of Yunshan 2 out of the market.

Fang Ming was furious. Even worse, the box office performance was far below their initial projections; at best, they’d barely break even. The investors wouldn’t see a profit and might even take a small loss.

Lately, Fang Ming didn’t dare to go out, afraid he’d run into Gu Xingshi basking in his newfound success. Just the thought of it made Fang Ming grind his teeth in frustration.

Of course, he didn’t want to admit his poor judgment in investments. Instead, he pinned the failure of The Legend of Yunshan 2 on Gu Xingshi. In his mind, the negative reviews were largely due to sabotage by The Ghostly Gate’s team, who must have hired trolls to tank their reputation.

After all, The Legend of Yunshan 2 was the only potential threat to The Ghostly Gate in this release window.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became, and a sinister plan began to form in his mind.

*

Meanwhile, Gu Xingshi had been incredibly busy lately. With the popularity of The Ghostly Gate soaring, his social obligations were only increasing. He was juggling multiple roles, and the workload for his artists was growing as well. He was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Though he didn’t regret his decisions, he was starting to think it was time to delegate his responsibilities. Splitting up the different business areas and assigning dedicated managers for each might be the way forward, allowing him to focus on the bigger picture.

But finding the right people wasn’t easy.

In truth, there was one candidate Gu Xingshi had in mind—Lin Xiayu. She was highly capable, reliable, and collaborating with her was always reassuring. But a talent like Lin Xiayu was naturally in high demand.

Word had it that several large companies had already approached her. Previously, these companies had hesitated, given that Lin Xiayu seemed firmly bound to Bu Qianwei, a talent with beauty but limited skills—a pretty accessory at best. But now that Bu Qianwei had skyrocketed to fame thanks to The Ghostly Gate, they were no longer holding back, offering enticing deals that even Gu Xingshi found astonishing.

Though LeShi’s business was relatively small and couldn’t match such lucrative offers, Gu Xingshi knew that if he approached Lin Xiayu, she would likely accept, given the goodwill generated from The Ghostly Gate. Both Lin Xiayu and Bu Qianwei were loyal people and would likely say yes.

But Gu Xingshi didn’t want to make her feel indebted just because of past favors.

Especially since he’d recently heard that Lin Xiayu had finally resolved her contract with Bu Qianwei’s former agency and seemed poised to start her own studio.

Though he felt a little regret, he decided to let go of the thought.

Just then, the internal phone rang—Lin Xiayu had come to see him.

Gu Xingshi was a bit surprised. With her busy preparations for setting up her own studio, he hadn’t expected her to drop by so suddenly.

Although Gu Xingshi was curious, he still headed to the reception room.

Lin Xiayu looked as professional as ever, dressed in a sharp business suit, but her energy was noticeably more vibrant than during their first meeting—clearly a reflection of her recent good fortune.

The two had already spoken plenty in the past, so there was no need for formalities. After a few casual remarks, Lin Xiayu’s expression turned serious. “Mr. Gu, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Qianwei.”

Thinking she was referring to the lead role in The Ghostly Gate, Gu Xingshi waved it off. “Qianwei’s performance brought a lot of shine to the film. It was a win-win, so there’s no need to thank me.”

But Lin Xiayu shook her head. “I’m not talking about that. Do you remember what you said to me at the premiere? You told me Qianwei’s acting didn’t have any fundamental issues; it was a psychological one. You didn’t have to share that with me, especially since Qianwei isn’t one of your artists. And as her agent, it was my failing—I didn’t notice something so critical. I let things slide before, which almost caused her harm. If it hadn’t been for you…”

She choked up, pausing to steady her emotions, then continued, “Mr. Gu, I know this may sound abrupt, but Qianwei and I would very much like to join LeShi.”

Gu Xingshi was stunned.

Did… did a gift just fall from the heavens?!

Seeing his silence, Lin Xiayu grew a bit anxious. “Mr. Gu, I realize my skills as an agent can’t compare to yours, but I do have some strengths. Here is a resource plan I created for the future development of artists like Qin Wen… I hope you’ll consider it.”

Gu Xingshi was floored.

He took the plan from Lin Xiayu, and he had to admit—her expertise was astounding. The level of detail was nothing short of impressive.

This wasn’t just a gift! It was like having a master chef bring in a complete feast!

And this “chef” was looking at him with worry, afraid he might turn her down.

How could he say no to this?!

He’d have to be out of his mind.

He felt a twinge of frustration, though; if he’d known sooner that they were on the same page, why had he wasted time deliberating and missed so many opportunities?

Once on board, Lin Xiayu immediately went to work with impressive decisiveness.

But even Gu Xingshi hadn’t anticipated the impact of her first move.

She managed to get both Qin Wen and Bu Qianwei onto a prime-time show on the national broadcaster.

Getting on one of these shows doesn’t usually boost popularity directly, but it’s a mark of national recognition and status—an incredibly difficult achievement. Back when Meng Yuansheng and Cheng Xin were in their boy group, they only made it onto such a program once due to Xingyao Entertainment’s resources.

Yet Lin Xiayu managed to secure it, and for not one but two of their artists.

Gu Xingshi was speechless; he realized he had underestimated her abilities.

But Lin Xiayu, upon hearing his praise, simply shook her head. “It wasn’t much to do with me—it’s mainly thanks to you, Mr. Gu!”

Gu Xingshi: “?”

Lin Xiayu looked at him with admiration. “Really, having you as a backer is just amazing… ahem, I mean, as soon as I mentioned that they’re under your management, the approvals went through much more easily. Everyone knows now that your artists are trustworthy and won’t have any scandals. The national broadcaster wants to avoid any risks, after all! A little persuasion on my part, and it was settled. This was honestly the easiest time I’ve ever had getting resources…”

Gu Xingshi: “??”

Soon after the national broadcaster announced its lineup, Qin Wen and Bu Qianwei hit the trending searches.

[Ahhhhhh!!! It’s the national broadcaster’s show! Our sister Bu is making us proud!!]

[I’m honestly not even surprised to see brother Qin on there. With Mr. Gu as his agent, this is practically a rite of passage, right?]

[LOL, is this what happens when an industry insider agent sends their artist into the heart of the establishment?]

[I mean, are we really still questioning Mr. Gu’s influence? It’s about as certain as me being my mom’s actual child!]

[So now I can brag not just about my entertainment industry connections, but my establishment connections too! ??]

*

Seeing the trending topics, Gu Xingshi was speechless.

Just as he was trying to digest it all, he suddenly heard a notification from the system: [Host, Host! Your “son” is about to report you!]

Gu Xingshi: [???]

The system barely held back laughter: [Remember that investor named Fang Ming? He made a bet that if The Ghostly Gate passed one hundred million at the box office, he’d call you “Dad.” Based on the timing of the box office results, he’s been your “son” for seven days, six hours, and fifty-three minutes now!]

Gu Xingshi: […Enough joking. What’s the real issue?]

The system cleared its throat: [Ahem… well, that Fang Ming guy, he invested in The Legend of Yunshan 2. Now that the film has bombed, he’s blaming you.]

Gu Xingshi: [Wait a second, The Legend of Yunshan 2 flopped because it was terrible. What does that have to do with me?]

System: [He’s convinced that The Ghostly Gate paid people to leave negative reviews, which he claims is what tanked The Legend of Yunshan 2.]

Gu Xingshi: [This is the definition of a baseless accusation!]

System: [In any case, he’s currently filing a report against The Ghostly Gate, claiming that it promotes feudal superstition and is harmful to minors…]

Gu Xingshi frowned.

While Fang Ming’s reasoning was bizarre, his method was underhanded. What’s worse, he was filing the report right when Qin Wen and Bu Qianwei were set to appear on the national broadcast. If the report succeeded, not only would it impact The Ghostly Gate’s screening, but Qin Wen and Bu Qianwei could also offend the national broadcaster, landing them in serious trouble.

Seeing through the other party’s scheme, Gu Xingshi’s expression grew cold. Now that he knew Fang Ming’s tactics, handling it wouldn’t be hard.

But letting Fang Ming off without consequences was out of the question.

With that thought, he asked the system: [System, it’s been a while since #10086 has had any “meat,” hasn’t it?]

System: [It sure has, hehe. Bring it on, Host! My meat knife is ready and raring to go!!!]

*

After filing his report, Fang Ming was in high spirits. Humming a tune, he poured himself a drink.

Feeling pleased with his tactic, he congratulated himself. In this industry, he knew very well that labels like “feudal superstition” or “harmful to minors” could be nearly impossible to shake off once attached.

Once the report took effect, not only would The Ghostly Gate suffer, but Qin Wen and Bu Qianwei would also face their share of trouble.

Besides, the report was anonymous—and filed directly with the relevant authorities.

What good were Gu Xingshi’s police connections if they couldn’t reach this far? There was no way he could know who filed the report, so he’d have no choice but to swallow this bitter pill in silence.

But to Fang Ming’s shock, instead of The Ghostly Gate getting pulled from theaters, an official news outlet announced a partnership between the film and the city of Baofu, promoting traditional folklore and turning the “Ghost Village” setting into a new tourism landmark.

Fang Ming: “???”

How could this happen?!

And why did this news have to drop right at this moment?

This essentially meant the authorities had endorsed The Ghostly Gate as a promoter of cultural heritage. With that stance set, they certainly weren’t going to reverse course and call it “feudal superstition.” His report was now completely invalidated.

Jealousy and anger seethed in Fang Ming.

Why was Gu Xingshi’s luck so incredible?

Even this didn’t take him down!

As Fang Ming was venting his frustration by smashing things in his room, he got a call from another investor, who said in a panic, “Have you heard? There’s trouble with our movie!!”

Fang Ming froze. “The Legend of Yunshan 2? What kind of trouble could it have?”

“It got reported!” the investor said, livid. “You know what, just go look online for yourself!”

Fang Ming’s heart skipped a beat, a bad feeling welling up inside him.

An unsettling thought came to mind.

No, no, that couldn’t be possible! There’s no way Gu Xingshi had that kind of power, right?

But then again, right after he filed a report against The Ghostly Gate, it was The Legend of Yunshan 2 that ended up under investigation!

It was impossible not to connect the dots.

In a panic, Fang Ming opened his social media. The first trending topic made his blood run cold.

Gossip System #10086: [At 5:20 I saw The Legend of Yunshan 2, and at 13:14 I uncovered a walking 500,000!] (Translator’s note: it likely means the speaker noticed something or someone valuable during those moments in Legend of Yunshan 2.)

Comments flooded in from users:

[OMG! Trust #10086 to show up with the biggest scoop of the day!!!]

[All hail #10086! Without your daily exposés, we wouldn’t eat or sleep as well!]

[The Legend of Yunshan 2 and ‘walking 500,000’? Don’t tell me it’s what I think it is?!]

[I used to think it was just a joke! But it turns out there really was a spy hidden in the crew?!]

[Maybe they should investigate The Legend of Yunshan 2 itself too. If a high-level crew member was a spy, who knows what’s really going on with this movie?]

[The thought of my money lining a spy’s pockets is just disgusting. A movie like The Legend of Yunshan 2, that harms society, should just be taken down already!]**

*

Fang Ming read on, heart pounding.

He recognized the senior crew member being called out by #10086—a quiet, unassuming guy who had never attracted any attention. Who would’ve thought he’d actually be a spy?!

Fang Ming’s unease only grew.

He had just filed a report against The Ghostly Gate, and now The Legend of Yunshan 2 was being investigated.

He’d accused The Ghostly Gate of promoting feudal superstition and harming minors. Now The Legend of Yunshan 2 was being reported for harboring a spy and threatening public welfare.

This was just too much of a coincidence!

At that moment, his phone rang again. It was the other investor, gritting his teeth as he asked, “Did you report The Ghostly Gate?”

Fang Ming jumped. “How… how did you know?!”

“Oh, everyone knows now!” the investor shouted furiously. “You idiot! What were you thinking, going after Gu Xingshi? You think you can mess with someone in his position that easily?”

Fang Ming tried to defend himself. “But… we don’t even know for sure! Maybe they’re just making stuff up.”

“Making it up? You think people are as brainless as you? And since the first day it started, #10086 has ‘never’ gotten a scoop wrong!” The investor took a deep breath. “Do you even realize? That spy was already arrested, and The Legend of Yunshan 2 is now pulled from theaters for investigation!”

Fang Ming: “!!!”

He blurted out, “Pulled from theaters? What about our investment?!”

“Investment? Of course, it’s gone!” the other investor said, practically laughing in anger. “Instead of worrying about that, you should think about the fact that you’ve just screwed over everyone and lost us all our money. Do you even have a future in this industry anymore?”

Fang Ming’s face went ashen.

This was it.

He was truly done for.

–

Translator Note: Um… I’m a little confused.. So this spy is an international spy or why is it such a big deal, and why would a spy hide in a crew?? @.@