After Spectating Gossip, the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Big Shot – CH80

Chapter 80

The next morning, Gu Xingshi learned that yet another scandal had broken out with Zhou Chengyan’s artist.

Seeing the trending topic #LuHaoxingParisNightWithBeauty, Gu couldn’t help but ask the system: [Didn’t Zhou Chengyan buy out those paparazzi photos last night? How did this still leak?]

System: [Oh, don’t get me started. Zhou did pay for the paparazzi photos, but he didn’t anticipate that Lu Haoxing’s fling would also take pictures and accidentally upload them online. It’s now irrefutable.]

Gu Xingshi: […I almost feel sorry for Zhou Chengyan.]

System: [Originally, Lu Haoxing had an event today, but thanks to this, they’ve had to rush him back to China. But there’s more trouble waiting for Zhou on his return…]

Gu was shocked: [What else is there?!]

System: [One of Zhou’s artists, Jiang Manman, is a young actress with a sweet, pure image—she’s even dubbed the ‘Nation’s First Love.’ But she’s got a major weakness for romance, and every time, she falls for the worst guys. After each breakup, she announces she’s quitting the industry, only to fall for another bad boy a week later. Compared to Zhou’s male clients, though, she’s actually low-maintenance.]

Gu Xingshi: […I can only imagine.]

System: [Well, this time, she was supposed to start filming a new drama, but she got swept up in her latest fling and accidentally got pregnant. Now she’s talking about quitting the industry to get married and have a baby. The twist? Her boyfriend is married with kids and was only fooling around with her. She tried hiding it from Zhou because she knew he’d try to stop her, but now that she’s pregnant, she can’t keep it under wraps anymore.]

[The issue is, she has a new drama lined up as well as several endorsement deals. If this scandal breaks, the penalties would be enormous. So Zhou has no choice but to rush back and deal with it.]

Gu sighed. [It sounds like his real profession isn’t ‘talent manager’ but ‘firefighter.’]

System: [Exactly! For any other manager, a single one of these scandals would be enough to tank an artist’s career. But under Zhou, they all still have decent success. Not that they see it that way—they all believe their popularity is solely due to their own talents, and they even look down on Zhou.]

Gu frowned. [Are they really that out of touch?]

It seemed to be a case of a master’s skill going unrecognized. Zhou Chengyan’s sharp ability to detect potential crises and quash them effortlessly had fostered an arrogance in his clients, leaving them oblivious to reality.

None of these artists would even pass LeShi’s first round of selection.

If it weren’t for Zhou’s strength, they’d have been weeded out of the industry ages ago.

Reflecting on Zhou’s impressive abilities being wasted at Jingchuan Entertainment, constantly cleaning up after such troublesome clients, Gu couldn’t help but feel it was a shame.

Then, an idea came to him.

If Jingchuan Entertainment was letting such talent go to waste, wasn’t it only fair for him to poach someone so skilled?

He immediately called the HR department at his company, instructing them to gather intel on Jingchuan Entertainment—especially any information about Zhou Chengyan. Once Gu returned to China, he’d recruit Zhou personally.

Before boarding his flight, Zhou Chengyan released the PR statement for Lu Haoxing’s scandal.

To be honest, with photographic evidence against them, the statement would have minimal effect.

Sure enough, fans didn’t buy it, and many began to unfollow him.

Only now did Lu Haoxing start to feel anxious, and he couldn’t resist blaming Zhou. “What kind of statement did you write? You’re the one who blew this up!”

Zhou Chengyan couldn’t help but laugh angrily. “This blew up because of my statement? Maybe it’s because you couldn’t keep your pants zipped!”

But Lu Haoxing didn’t feel he’d done anything wrong. “How was I supposed to know she’d take a picture? And besides, I didn’t think fans would be so fragile—overreacting like this to something so minor!”

Zhou Chengyan: “…Minor? From the first day you debuted, I’ve warned you that this is serious. If I hadn’t been cleaning up your messes all these years, you’d have disappeared from the industry by now.”

Lu Haoxing shrugged. “Aren’t you my manager? Isn’t this your job?”

Zhou Chengyan: “…And not fooling around is your job. Why can’t you do that?”

Lu Haoxing was left speechless and finally muttered, “It’s not like I’m the only one messing around. Other celebrities do it too, and they’re fine. You’re the one making a fuss.”

Zhou Chengyan shot back, “Fine? Haven’t you seen any of those celebrities crash and burn?”

Without another word, Zhou instructed the assistant to escort Lu Haoxing home, sternly warning, “Don’t take your eyes off him for a second. If he stirs up any more trouble, not even a miracle will save him. You’ll both go down together!”

Though Lu Haoxing grumbled, he shut his mouth under Zhou’s glare and reluctantly got into the car with the assistant.

After settling Lu Haoxing, Zhou barely had time to adjust to the new time zone before rushing back to the office.

At that moment, Jiang Manman was still in the throes of a dramatic meltdown, insisting she wanted to quit the industry, get married, and start a family.

Zhou slapped a stack of documents down in front of her. “I’ve looked into it. This guy is married with kids, and he’s a serial cheater—this isn’t his first time.”

Jiang Manman was stunned. “I don’t believe it! He said he loved me and that we’d get married and go on a honeymoon in the Maldives!”

Zhou replied, “He said the same thing to every mistress before you.”

Refusing to believe him, she called the man on WeChat, only to realize she’d been blocked. Still, she tried calling him again and again.

With a slight frown, Zhou took her phone. “Enough. What’s the point of lying to yourself?”

Jiang Manman burst into tears. “You’re heartless. So cruel.”

Zhou waited patiently for her to finish crying before continuing, “Alright then, let’s continue being ‘heartless and cruel.’ Do you still want this child?”

She sniffled, “Without a husband, why would I want him?”

Zhou rubbed his temples. “Then let’s schedule the procedure quickly. I’ll pull you out of the new drama and help you drum up sympathy with the fans. But you need to be aware that this will impact your career in the long run.”

Reluctantly, Jiang Manman agreed.

Zhou arranged everything with the hospital and had an assistant take her there. Using her social media account, he crafted a post saying that an old injury had flared up, forcing her to withdraw from the new drama due to health reasons.

The post set off a wave of reactions from fans.

[Poor Manman! I knew something looked off in her recent photos!]

[Her company and manager are absolute trash, squeezing her for all she’s worth. She’s had so many ‘injuries’—do they think they can push her around just because she’s sweet?]

[I’m done! Can we finally get Manman a decent manager?]

*

Zhou glanced at Jiang Manman’s comment section, sighed, and closed the app without a word.

Being cursed at to this extent, Zhou Chengyan had mentally prepared himself for it.

But still, there was a small sting of bitterness.

However, he quickly pushed down that feeling and focused on getting through the rest of his tasks.

After several days of intense work, just as he managed to resolve everything, the director of the management department called him in.

When he heard the director’s words, Zhou Chengyan was stunned. “You’re saying that Yao Zidong wants to switch managers?”

Yao Zidong was one of his newer artists—a professionally trained actor with good looks and solid skills, and most importantly, no bad habits.

Zhou had invested more time and resources into Yao than anyone else. To protect his reputation, Zhou had shielded him from countless behind-the-scenes dangers, even enduring drinking sessions that left him vomiting, all to keep Yao Zidong safe.

The director’s words hit him like a sledgehammer, leaving him momentarily dazed.

Just then, the office door opened, and a short, thin man walked in with Yao Zidong following behind.

Zhou frowned. “Liang Xiaowei?!”

Liang was another manager at the company, one who often clashed with Zhou.

Zhou looked from Liang to Yao, disbelief in his voice. “Is he your new manager?”

Yao avoided his gaze.

Zhou stared at him, his voice steady but demanding. “Why?”

He was confident he’d never wronged Yao, yet here he was, making arrangements behind Zhou’s back to switch managers.

Yao remained silent.

But Liang sneered. “Why else? Clearly, because I’m more capable than you!”

Zhou gritted his teeth, turning back to Yao. “Fine, forget about capability. If you had issues with me, why didn’t you come to me directly? Why did you go behind my back to connect with another manager?”

At this, Yao couldn’t hold back. “Are you saying I didn’t try? Over the past year, look at the gigs you got me. I worked myself to exhaustion, and for what? A show that flopped without a trace. Meanwhile, others who debuted around the same time, who aren’t even as skilled as me, have already landed roles in big productions, even if their performances aren’t great—they’re still trending constantly!”

“Look at that recent big IP drama. You said you couldn’t secure a role, but brother Liang got it! I’m done with you and your excuses. Just admit you’re incompetent!”

Zhou opened his mouth to respond, but in the end, he stayed silent.

He had explained all this to Yao before.

For a newcomer, Yao had already received the best opportunities available, and no one could guarantee a show’s success.

As for that big IP drama, the director had hinted that an investor was interested in Yao and would consider him for the role—if Yao agreed to a night with him. But Zhou knew this investor’s reputation—he was violent and had a penchant for sadistic “games.” Without hesitation, Zhou had turned the offer down.

But Yao had never truly listened.

He only blamed Zhou for not making him an overnight star.

Yao continued to complain, his voice a relentless stream of grievances.

It was the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

Zhou suddenly felt deeply exhausted.

After years in this industry, thinking of nothing but his artists’ well-being, pushing himself to the limit, he had ended up feeling utterly unappreciated.

“If you want to switch, go ahead,” Zhou interrupted him. He turned to the director and added, “Is he the only one with this opinion? If there are others, let me know now.”

The director hesitated. “Actually… Lu Haoxing mentioned it too. What do you think?”

Zhou waved a hand. “Let him go as well.”

After signing the necessary paperwork, Zhou walked out of the office feeling defeated, aimlessly wandering the streets.

For the first time, he wondered if he was doing things wrong.

The artists resented him.

The fans resented him.

Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a manager.

At that moment, his phone rang.

Zhou instinctively answered, “What’s happened now?”

On the other end, Gu Xingshi’s voice came through. “Manager Zhou, it’s me.”

“Manager Zhou?” Zhou Chengyan was stunned.

Gu Xingshi’s voice, slightly distorted over the line, came through clearly. “I’m calling to ask if you’d be interested in working for LeShi.”

Zhou Chengyan: “!!!”

He nearly dropped his phone but quickly tightened his grip, his voice trembling. “President Gu… did I hear that right? You’re offering me a position at LeShi?!”

Gu Xingshi: “Exactly.”

The certainty in those two words left Zhou dizzy with disbelief. He blurted out, “Why?”

Gu’s answer was straightforward. “Because you’re highly capable! I admire your approach as a manager—your judgment, and your decision-making skills. I believe you have the potential to become a top-tier manager.”

Zhou Chengyan: “!!!”

He’d never thought so highly of himself before.

“And just so you know,” Gu continued confidently, “I even cut my trip to Paris short just for this.”

Zhou’s heart was hit once again.

In all these years, he’d never felt this valued.

And when Gu went on to explain the salary and benefits, it was almost overwhelming.

After years as a manager, Zhou had grown immune to empty promises, but this was no idle offer—Gu had the offer all laid out, as if presenting a gourmet dish ready to be served.

If he turned this down, he’d be kicking himself every night for the rest of his life.

*

The next day, Zhou arrived at the office with a new spring in his step and went straight to the director. “I’d like to resign.”

The news spread like wildfire throughout the company.

Hearing this, Liang Xiaowei couldn’t resist rushing over to watch Zhou’s supposed downfall.

But Zhou was already efficiently wrapping up his paperwork, having cleared out his belongings with swift professionalism.

Liang expected to see frustration, bitterness, or defeat on Zhou’s face, but instead, he saw none of that.

Zhou looked calm, even… content? On closer inspection, there was an unmistakable hint of joy.

Joy?

Liang froze, but quickly brushed it off as an act Zhou was putting on.

So he remarked smugly, “Ah, Xiao Zhou, I didn’t realize that Yao Zidong switching managers would hit you so hard…”

Zhou didn’t even spare him a glance.

Nearby, a coworker couldn’t help but ask, “Brother Zhou, what are we going to do once you’re gone?”

“Yes, exactly. Without you, no one else could handle the messes that XX created.”

“Brother Zhou, you’re always thinking of everyone else.”

“We’re really going to miss you, Brother Zhou!”

Several of the intern managers even came over to see him off, each one expressing sincere gratitude for his guidance.

Zhou Chengyan was a bit surprised.

He’d been quite strict with these interns and had assumed they wouldn’t think highly of him.

But in truth, anyone who paid attention could see how much Zhou had truly done. Especially those in the lower ranks—they appreciated Zhou’s efforts the most.

Not pleased with all the attention Zhou was getting, Liang Xiaowei interjected, “Hey, Xiao Zhou, where are you planning to go after resigning?”

Zhou gave him a sidelong glance. “What does it matter to you?”

“Oh, just curious,” Liang said, feigning concern. “It’s not easy to switch jobs in this field, you know. There’s no guarantee that the new company will be any better.”

Zhou replied, “Thanks for your concern, but the company I’m joining is actually one of the top in the industry.”

“One of the top?” Liang sneered. “Don’t tell me you mean LeShi?”

Zhou looked at him in surprise. “How did you guess?”

Liang Xiaowei: “…”

“You’re out of your mind, aren’t you? Do you even know how difficult it is to get into LeShi? Especially their management department! Every agent there comes from a top company with unique skills, and President Gu himself is one of the best agents in the business. What makes you think you’re good enough for him?”

Ignoring him, Zhou simply picked up his box and headed toward the exit.

Fuming, Liang followed close behind.

Just then, someone suddenly gasped, “Wait… is that President Gu?”

All eyes turned toward the building’s entrance.

Sure enough, there was a car parked outside, and standing beside it was none other than Gu Xingshi.

Liang was stunned.

Could it be… that Zhou really did sign with LeShi?

But he quickly reassured himself that perhaps Gu was just in the area on other business. After all, the building was surrounded by entertainment companies, so his presence here might be a coincidence.

The next second, they heard Gu calling out in their direction, “Chengyan! Over here!”

Liang Xiaowei: “!!!”

Everyone’s gaze immediately fell on Zhou.

Zhou, a bit flustered, stammered, “P-president Gu, are you calling me?”

Gu strode over confidently. “Of course.”

The entire group looked at Zhou in astonishment, realizing he actually knew President Gu personally.

Could it be that he was indeed joining LeShi?

Only Liang Xiaowei refused to believe it. He remembered rumors that LeShi had an upcoming drama they were casting for, so maybe Gu was interested in one of Zhou’s former artists.

Zhou had reacted so strongly to Yao Zidong switching managers—perhaps it was because Gu had taken an interest in Yao?

Liang’s eyes lit up as he eagerly spoke up, “President Gu, Xiao Zhou has already resigned, and Yao Zidong is now under my management. If you’re interested in…”

“Yao Zidong? Who’s that?” Gu looked at him, puzzled. “Of course, I know Chengyan resigned—that’s why I’m here.”

Everyone: “?!!”

One of the staff members couldn’t help but ask, “President Gu, did you really come just to pick up Brother Zhou?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Gu replied without hesitation. “When it comes to such an outstanding talent, I can’t risk someone else swooping in and taking him!”

Everyone: “!!!”

Damn! Now that’s the dream treatment!