Chapter 100 Could It Be Him?

Chapter 100: Is It Him?

As they stepped out of the elevator, Jiang Ruotang followed Lu Guifan to a metal security gate. Just as Lu Guifan turned the key, they heard the sound of flip-flops slapping against the floor. When the door opened, a little girl was seen placing a pair of slippers at the entrance. She tilted up her little face, her big eyes filled with anticipation as she looked at Lu Guifan.

This was Lu Wei. When she noticed someone behind Lu Guifan, she immediately went to grab another pair of slippers.

At that moment, Jiang Ruotang instantly understood the little girl’s thoughts—she was doing everything she could to please everyone in the household. She lacked a sense of security, so she worked hard to prove her worth in this family.

Just like how he, in his past life, had worn himself out trying to please someone else.

But Xiao Wei was only four years old.

Jiang Ruotang bent down, gently took Xiao Wei’s hand, and lifted her into his arms. With a bright smile, he said, “Oh, what’s the name of this pretty little girl with big eyes and a cute little nose?”

Xiao Wei seemed nervous, as if she was processing Jiang Ruotang’s words, wondering if he was really talking about her.

No one in the village had wanted her. Many had called her a burden, saying that if she hadn’t been born, her mother could have remarried and wouldn’t have worked herself to an early grave.

No one had ever called her “pretty” before.

Lu Guifan took out another pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet, knelt on one knee beside Jiang Ruotang, and helped him take off his sneakers before slipping his feet into the slippers.

Jiang Ruotang carried Xiao Wei inside. The little girl was as light as a feather, making his heart ache.

From the kitchen came the voices of Lu Guifan’s Mom and Dad.

“Ruotang’s here! Let Guifan show you around our new home!”

“We’re still mixing the dough, but soon you’ll get to eat your favorite scallion pancakes with eggs! This time, we even added shrimp!”

Jiang Ruotang laughed. “Sounds great!”

Lu Guifan then took Jiang Ruotang on a tour of the house—the master bedroom where his parents stayed, the former study that had been converted into a little girl’s room, and his own smaller bedroom.

The bed was much bigger. Jiang Ruotang glanced at it, then at Lu Guifan, smirking as he asked, “Is it sturdy?”

“What? You planning to jump on my bed?”

Lu Guifan looked so innocent, completely missing Jiang Ruotang’s implication.

No matter. Jiang Ruotang quietly indulged in his own naughty thoughts, happily amusing himself.

Then, he spotted a crystal photo frame on Lu Guifan’s desk. Smiling, he asked Xiao Wei, “Do you like this painting?”

Xiao Wei nodded.

“This is the Butterfly Nebula I painted. When Xiao Wei grows up, we’ll take you to the planetarium to see footage of the Butterfly Nebula, okay?”

Xiao Wei’s eyes sparkled. Though she didn’t know what a nebula was, she felt like this Gege’s eyes were full of shimmering stars.

Turning around, Jiang Ruotang saw another painting hanging on the spotless white wall—a rose he had painted, now framed by Lu Guifan to protect it from moisture and fading.

“This is a rose I painted. When Xiao Wei grows up, you’ll have a sweetheart give you roses too!”

Unexpectedly, the usually quiet Xiao Wei suddenly asked, “You gave Gege roses, so is Gege your sweetheart?”

Jiang Ruotang froze. Should he admit it or deny it?

Lu Guifan chuckled. “This is Ruotang Gege. He’s someone very, very important to me—someone I cherish in my heart.”

“Xiao Wei understands. Xiao Wei will be good to Ruotang Gege.”

Seeing the little girl’s serious little face, Jiang Ruotang’s heart softened again.

“Ruotang Gege will be good to you too.” Jiang Ruotang took out the candy-colored hair ties from his pocket, only to realize Xiao Wei had short hair and couldn’t tie it up.

But the longing in the little girl’s eyes when she saw the hair ties was impossible to hide.

Jiang Ruotang placed the hair ties in Xiao Wei’s hand and said seriously, “This is Ruotang Gege’s gift to Xiao Wei. When your hair grows long, you can use them to make little ponytails.”

Xiao Wei clutched them tightly, as if they were treasures.

Even late at night, after Jiang Ruotang and Lu Guifan had told her stories, sung lullabies, and finally lulled her to sleep, the candy-colored hair ties remained tightly gripped in her tiny hand.

Jiang Ruotang leaned against the bedside, resting his chin in his hand. “Feels like the warmth of family…”

Lu Guifan lowered his gaze and gently mussed Jiang Ruotang’s hair. “All I know is that my happiness depends on you.”

Jiang Ruotang cocked his head. “Are you teasing me?”

“I’m sweet-talking myself.”

Jiang Ruotang tugged at Lu Guifan’s collar. “Anyway, you’re mine. No returns for ten thousand years!”

Lu Guifan laughed. “In ten thousand years, we’ll be dust.”

“You think I wouldn’t recognize you even if you turned to ashes?” Jiang Ruotang retorted.

Lu Guifan covered his eyes, both exasperated and amused.

That night, when Jiang Ruotang returned home, Zhao Zhangfeng still hadn’t come back—too engrossed in playing games with Cai Ji.

*Drunken Immortal Terrace* had already started production, so Jiang Huaiyuan and his wife weren’t home either.

Jiang Ruotang touched his lips, recalling Lu Guifan’s kisses—gentle as a spring breeze one moment, fierce and consuming the next. Overflowing with inspiration, he returned to his studio. Closing his eyes, he felt a surge of intense emotions. His brush moved feverishly across the paper, dabbing and smudging passionately. When he finally finished, he took a photo of the piece and sent it to Lu Guifan.

At that moment, Lu Guifan was wearing his black frame glasses, checking emails on his computer. Professor Yang from overseas had sent him a message, informing him that the payment for his research into improving solid-state power-conversion efficiency had been transferred as per their contract, along with a reminder to file his taxes.

Looking at the amount, Lu Guifan knew it was a sum his parents couldn’t even imagine—enough to keep them awake for days if left in the bank.

Rather than letting it sit idle, he might as well give it to Jiang Ruotang.

Just then, Jiang Ruotang’s message arrived—a painting, and the subject was none other than himself.

His striking features were radiating an unusual allure, lost in indulgence, filled with struggle, longing, and visceral tension.

Though the painting contained nothing explicit, it instantly made Lu Guifan’s face flush and his heart race.

This was probably the price of dating Jiang Ruotang.

He took a deep breath and quickly replied:

“No one else can see this. Not even your manager.”

Jiang Ruotang doubled over laughing at Lu Guifan’s response. It seemed he had found the most effective way to tease him.

“Relax, I’ll just hang it in my bedroom—just for me to see.”

“Not even in the bedroom.” Imagining Lu Guifan’s tone in his head, Jiang Ruotang found it even funnier the more he thought about it.

The most talked-about entertainment project of the entire summer was the talent show *Idol, Please Step Forward*, jointly produced by Qin Zhanchao and Han Ming. It became a hit on Qilin Video, topping the variety show rankings after just one episode.

Bai Yingchuan's comeback was eye-catching, and coupled with his now more composed personality and candid demeanor with the audience, he gained quite a few new fans on the show, just as Jiang Ruotang had predicted.

Jiang Ruotang propped his chin on his hand, staring at the computer screen. What caught his attention wasn’t Bai Yingchuan, but another guest—ALEN, a K-idol.

ALEN’s gender-ambiguous makeup gave him a mysterious aura, and his arrogant attitude throughout the show, along with his brutally blunt critiques of other contestants, stood out.

If this had been a local celebrity, it might have caused controversy, but Qilin Video and Qin Zhanchao’s marketing strategy successfully built ALEN a cold-but-honest persona, winning over many viewers and fans.

If things continued this way, Jiang Ruotang suspected Qilin Video and Qin Zhanchao would launch a big IP project, casting ALEN as the lead to milk profits and views.

Unfortunately… ALEN was simply blatantly shallow and self-absorbed. When his image inevitably came crashing down, it would be like a dam breaking—spectacular and unstoppable. Add in policy pressures, and Jiang Ruotang almost pitied Qilin Video and Qin Zhanchao for losing their shirts.

ALEN’s manufactured idol persona also gave Jiang Ruotang a sense of urgency.

He needed to cultivate a group of genuinely talented actors—ones who, even without massive fanfare, would make audiences instinctively believe in the quality of any project they starred in.

Which meant he needed his own talent agency.

Just as he was pondering this, Jiang Ruotang received a message from Mu Xianqing: *[Young master, want to grab boba tea with me?]*

Jiang Ruotang took a deep breath and immediately covered his eyes. If Mu Xianqing was inviting him for boba, it definitely meant he was being summoned to "pay his dues."

Wait—this was actually perfect. He could discuss his agency plans with Mu Xianqing and maybe even get him to share the costs… No, better yet, they could profit together!

With that thought, Jiang Ruotang happily headed up to his attic studio and carefully selected an oil painting—a sky ablaze with flaming clouds. At first glance, it was just a monotonous expanse of red, but upon closer inspection, the layers of color revealed the sky’s final, dazzling brilliance before nightfall.

He replied: *[Sure! See you in half an hour!]*

Mu Xianqing, who had been sipping coffee, nearly choked. The young master had actually agreed to his afternoon tea invitation? He’d only sent the message out of sheer boredom, just to remind Jiang Ruotang of his existence.

Glancing out the window, Mu Xianqing muttered in disbelief, "Huh, has hell frozen over?"

Just then, his secretary walked in, intending to remind him of his afternoon schedule. But Mu Xianqing jolted as if he’d been zapped, nearly leaping out of his oversized executive chair.

"Uh—go order two cups of Fairy’s boba tea for me, jasmine milk tea, hot! 30% sugar!"

Then he remembered Jiang Ruotang had said he’d arrive in half an hour. What if the delivery was late?

"Actually, send someone to buy it in person—as fast as possible! And get some salty snacks too, the kind kids these days like… maybe fried chicken bites or sausage buns?"

The secretary stared blankly at his boss. Mu Xianqing’s afternoon tea sessions were usually reserved for delicate pastries. This was… a sudden shift.

"Is there… an important guest coming?"

Mu Xianqing nodded. "Pretty important."

"But at 3 PM, you have a meeting scheduled with President Wang from Qilin Video, President Qin from Universe, and President Han from Cefeng Pictures."

"Hm? They’re coming?" Mu Xianqing’s brow furrowed, his distaste unmistakable.

The secretary reminded him, "Yes, they want you to invest in a drama—the one planning to cast that popular K-idol ALEN as the lead."

Mu Xianqing let out an "Oh," then said, "No problem, let them wait. Who told them to try digging into my pockets for money?"

Secretary: *…Can’t argue with that.*

When Jiang Ruotang arrived at Mu Xianqing’s office building, he ran into Qin Zhanchao and Han Ming at the elevator.

Qin Zhanchao studied Jiang Ruotang and immediately recalled that day outside Prosperity Lane, when Mu Xianqing had shown him unusual favor. Suspicion crept in—what was Jiang Ruotang doing here? Especially since Jiang Huaiyuan and his wife had just shot down the ALEN project during yesterday’s meeting, making Qin Zhanchao feel like the Jiang family was deliberately working against him.

"Ruo Tang, what brings you here?" Qin Zhanchao still wore a gentle smile.

Jiang Ruotang pointed to the painting on his back. "Just bringing a piece for Mr. Mu to see."

"Ah." Qin Zhanchao nodded, already considering whether he should scout some promising young painters to curry favor with Mu Xianqing.

Han Ming, however, doubted a freshly graduated high schooler could have any real artistic talent. Maybe Mu Xianqing just liked his pretty face.

"Unfortunately, we have important business with Mr. Mu today. Your timing isn’t great—you might be waiting a long time." Han Ming’s tone was icy, a not-so-subtle hint for Jiang Ruotang to take the hint.

Jiang Ruotang remained unfazed. "No problem, I can play on my phone while I wait."

Han Ming let out a faint scoff.

The elevator doors opened, revealing Mu Xianqing’s secretary waiting outside with a reception-perfect smile.

Just as Qin Zhanchao stepped forward to greet her, the secretary moved to shield the elevator door—for Jiang Ruotang, who had been standing behind them.

"Mr. Jiang, did you bring a painting today?"

"Yep!"

"Wonderful! No wonder Mr. Mu set out snacks. Please, follow me."

With a smile, the secretary guided Jiang Ruotang toward the office.

Qin Zhanchao and Han Ming froze for a second.

Han Ming spoke first. "Secretary Ye, our meeting with Mr. Mu was scheduled for 3 PM, wasn’t it?"

The secretary smiled. "It’s only 2:40. Looking at Mr. Jiang’s painting won’t take a minute."

Qin Zhanchao and Han Ming shared a loaded look.

If they’d heard correctly, Secretary Ye had mentioned Mu Xianqing preparing afternoon tea.

Knowing him, once he settled into tea time, he wouldn’t wrap up until sunset.

They… were gonna be waiting a while.

Jiang Ruotang entered Mu Xianqing’s office for the first time. The ridiculously huge floor-to-ceiling windows dominated one wall, and Mu Xianqing stood before them, hands in his pockets, looking even more flamboyant than the CEOs in TV dramas.

The office was so spacious that Jiang Ruotang couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way over for a scenic-view bonding moment. Instead, he plopped down at the conference table where snacks and boba tea were laid out, set his painting aside, and chugged several mouthfuls of tea.

Mu Xianqing adjusted his tie, slightly disappointed, until the secretary spoke up.

"Boss, Mr. Jiang brought a new piece. Aren’t you going to take a look?"

Backlit, the gleam in Mu Xianqing’s eyes was hidden in shadow.

He strode over to the table and saw the painting folder Jiang Ruotang had casually placed on another chair. Unlike other artists, Jiang Ruotang didn’t launch into a spiel about creative inspiration or artistic vision—instead, he was spearing a chicken nugget with a fork, debating between sweet chili sauce or mayo.

Mu Xianqing picked up the folder, sat down, and opened it. The fiery clouds immediately seized his full attention.

Silence settled between them—Jiang Ruotang snacking, Mu Xianqing absorbed in the painting.

"What’s this one called?" "Doesn’t *Flaming Clouds* say it all?"

"So blunt?" Mu Xianqing was baffled—this lacked artistic subtlety.

"Yeah."

"For sale?"

Jiang Ruotang nearly choked. "I'm not selling myself, the painting is."

Mu Xianqing was both amused and exasperated before sinking back into quiet contemplation of the artwork. He moved it to the floor-to-ceiling window, then had his secretary hold it against the wall—in Jiang Ruotang's eyes, it was all just pointless antics.

Halfway through his meal, Jiang Ruotang turned to Mu Xianqing and got right to business: "I want to start a talent agency, training a roster of talented actors, from leads to supporting roles. With Xiaotian Guo as the streaming platform, my father's resources, Qi Yanfeng’s production company, and Red City Pictures strong in marketing, all we’re missing is the acting talent to complete the chain. Care to invest?"

Mu Xianqing’s gaze remained on the painting, but he chuckled lightly. "Just say you want to leverage my influence again."

"You said it yourself—when profits are involved, come find you."

"So, what’s the preliminary plan? Who do you have in mind?"

Jiang Ruotang took a sip of milk tea. He had already prepared, listing several names, analyzing their current projects and circumstances, acting strengths, and future potential.

These were all actors with talent and reputation but lacking opportunities—among them was Ling Song.

Mu Xianqing knew Jiang Ruotang always spoke casually but never entered a deal unprepared.

Secretary Ye, standing nearby, discreetly jotted down the names for further investigation after Jiang Ruotang left.

"Hmm..." Jiang Ruotang suddenly looked up at Mu Xianqing. "Oh, one more thing... I saw President Qin and President Han waiting for you."

Mu Xianqing smiled. "They’re here for the same reason as you—to get funding from me."

As a partner, Jiang Ruotang felt obliged to warn Mu Xianqing.

"If it’s an investment related to that ALEN guy, you should be careful." He didn't elaborate further.

Mu Xianqing handed the painting to his secretary, signaling for it to be stored in the vault, then sat beside Jiang Ruotang. "Meaning?"

"Artificially constructed public images collapse easily, and you risk total losses."

Mu Xianqing nodded with a smile. "Don’t worry, I’m not so easily swayed."

Jiang Ruotang didn’t linger. He’d already kept the two executives waiting twenty minutes—any longer, and they might vent their irritation on him.

"That's enough for me, I’m heading back!"

Others would cling to Mu Xianqing’s presence, but Jiang Ruotang was the only one who ate his fill, said nothing unnecessary, and left without fanfare.

"Alright, looking forward to our next milk tea date."

Mu Xianqing stood and walked Jiang Ruotang to the elevator, letting Qin Zhanchao and Han Ming—waiting in the lounge—watch through the glass partition.

Their expressions relaxed as they exchanged glances. They’d expected to wait until dinner, but it ended sooner than anticipated.

What they didn’t expect was Mu Xianqing refusing to approve the investment in ALEN’s tailor-made film—a project everyone in the industry was eyeing. Qin Zhanchao and Han Ming had approached him precisely because of Deyi Tianxia’s theater chain.

Mu Xianqing didn’t outright reject them, instead being evasive, citing too many recent investments and needing further discussion. But by the end, he gave no timeline for a decision—a revealing stance.

Leaving the office, Qin Zhanchao frowned and muttered in the elevator, "Did that Jiang kid say something to Mu Xianqing?"

Han Ming smirked. Qin Zhanchao was still too naive. No matter how much Mu Xianqing fawned over Jiang Ruotang’s art, he never mixed business with personal matters. Did Jiang Ruotang really have that much sway?

"Relax. Even if Mu Xianqing passes, with ALEN in hand, plenty of investors will jump at the chance."

The very next day, Secretary Ye placed an investigative report on ALEN on Mu Xianqing’s desk.

Unfortunately, his boss was still lost in admiration of *Blazing Clouds*, occasionally muttering, "It’s mine now," making Secretary Ye sweatdrop.

"Skip the report. Just tell me ALEN’s skeletons in his closet."

Secretary Ye was shocked by what he read—bar fights, prima donna antics on set, bullying teammates during *Idol Showdown* recordings... enough to fill a dossier.

"Damn, this guy dares act like this in our industry?" Mu Xianqing shrugged. "Does he even speak Chinese yet?"

Secretary Ye shook his head. "His contract with Qilin Video explicitly states he can’t be forced to learn."

"Then how the hell is he acting? The dubbing won't sync. Are Qilin Video, Qin Zhanchao, and Han Ming masochists? Making money while kissing ALEN’s ass? And they want me to join in? No thanks."

Secretary Ye suppressed a chuckle.

"What about the actors Young Jiang recommended?"

One by one, Secretary Ye listed them—all shared a common trait: hardworking, working their way up from bit parts, some even ill-suited to industry schmoozing, making them "unpopular."

But their integrity was unquestionable.

"And their acting?"

"Compared to ALEN? Every one of them is award-worthy."

Secretary Ye’s rare sarcasm convinced Mu Xianqing of Jiang Ruotang’s judgment.

He called Jiang Ruotang, mirth in his voice. "Young Jiang, hurry up with that agency. I’m afraid once you’re in the capital, you’ll get lost in high society and forget all about it."

"You decided this fast?"

"You thought I’d actually drag out the 'investigation'? Just maintaining decorum."

Jiang Ruotang thought, *More like Secretary Ye’s efficiency and competence—stop hogging the credit, Mu Xianqing!*

But he kept it to himself. He was an adult now—time to master the art of tact.

So he organized a gathering, inviting the Qi brothers, Chen Dan (who brought his sister Chen Qian), Mr. Zheng, and Lawyer Dai for a dinner meeting.

At the table, Jiang Ruotang announced Mu Xianqing’s involvement as a shareholder. The Qi siblings and Chen siblings pledged investment on the spot.

"Rather than overpaying for volatile stars who might self-destruct unexpectedly, we should develop skilled performers ourselves. More control, fewer PR headaches," Qi Yanze declared.

Everyone stared in surprise.

"What? Got food on my face?" Qi Yanze rubbed his cheek.

Chen Dan teased, "A'Ze, we’re just shocked—you’ve developed some smarts!"

Qi Yanze flushed. "I’ve had one since birth!"

"I only knew you had primitive instincts," Jiang Ruotang joked.

Qi Yanfeng added, "Register our family’s shares under my name for this agency."

Qi Yanze protested unhappily, "Why can't it be under my name?"

"You're already listed under Xiao Tian Guo. Adding the agency too? How many aspiring stars would throw themselves at you then? You're soft-hearted—a few sweet words, and you'd get carried away. Isn't there some vixen-faced newcomer pestering you for resources lately? Don’t tell me you haven’t considered signing him into the new company. If he starts making waves in the agency, using your name to fight for roles and gossip, wouldn’t that be a headache?" Qi Yanfeng didn’t hold back when it came to serious matters.

"I..."

Seeing Qi Yanze’s hesitation, everyone could tell Qi Yanfeng had called it exactly.

"Fine, then let’s put it under Big Brother Qi’s name. A Ze, don’t sulk. Your boyfriend won’t dump you just because your name isn’t on the agency—after all, you’re still a shareholder in Xiao Tian Guo."

Jiang Ruotang’s words were another arrow to Qi Yanze’s knee. So, in the end, it was all about his money. Why couldn't they appreciate his looks or physique instead?

Chen Dan chuckled. "Xiao Tian Guo’s business alone is enough to keep me swamped. I really don’t have the time to get involved in the agency’s operations. But if it’s something Ruo Tang wants to do, our family has to be part of it. That’s why I brought my sister, Chen Qian. She’s a whiz at securing resources, with great connections and reputation in the industry. Hand your most promising talents to her, and she’ll elevate them for sure!"

Hearing this, Jiang Ruotang immediately raised a toast to Chen Qian, joking about kowtowing to the boss.

Chen Qian laughed. "We’re family now—no need for formalities. From now on, I’m practically your honorary big sis. Just say the word, and I’ll move heaven and earth for you!"

Mr. Zheng and Lawyer Dai watched Jiang Ruotang with amusement, thinking how young he still seemed, yet how mature he had already become.

Seeing Jiang Ruotang’s confident bearing, Lawyer Dai felt a swell of pride. Silently, he addressed Jiang Ruotang’s late grandfather: *Look, Ruo Tang has grown up. He’s carving out his own path, with reliable partners by his side, moving forward step by step. You can rest easy now.*

As soon as the dinner ended, Qi Yanze eagerly pulled Jiang Ruotang aside. "You coming? I’ll show you a good time! Let’s hit Jin Bi Huang—heard their waitstaff are all built like male models! Consider it a celebration for getting into the Central Academy of Fine Arts!"

Jiang Ruotang grinned. "I have a boyfriend."

"It’s just window shopping! What’s the big deal?"

"If it’s just window shopping, I’d rather go home and look at my boyfriend," Jiang Ruotang said cheerfully. "I’ve yet to meet a male model handsomer than him."

"Beauty is in the lover's eye..." Qi Yanze sighed dejectedly.

Qi Yanfeng cuffed his brother’s head. "Cultivate yourself. Even if Director Jiang isn’t impressed by your looks, at least make him admire your soul."

"Since when do souls just magically appear?" Qi Yanze muttered under his breath.

While Dai Ming was busy preparing the company’s incorporation documents, Chen Qian wasted no time reaching out to the actors Jiang Ruotang was scouting.

Some were active in theater—though not conventionally attractive, they had flawless line delivery and emotional depth. Others were stuck in indentured contracts with small agencies, barely getting any roles yet still dedicated to their craft.

As for Ling Song, Jiang Ruotang told Chen Qian he’d handle the initial approach himself. Ling Song had seen the industry’s ruthlessness and nursed grievances.

Thanks to Jian Sha’s increasingly popular serialized novel—now ranking among the year’s top three most beloved web novels—its imaginative, surreal plot had caught the attention of multiple production companies. Even Yunfeng Video and Cefeng Pictures sent representatives to discuss adaptation rights. But Jian Sha, having already promised Jiang Ruotang, turned them down.

Soon after, her comment section was flooded with trolls—accusing her of plagiarism, twisting her plotlines, and stirring up chaos.

[Feasting on others’ misery? Using big-name screenwriters for clout, then suing them afterward?]

[If you want quality writing, go to Chicheng Tianxia. This is garbage!]

[Wow, the male lead spends a night with his injured female bodyguard in a cave? Yeah right, ‘no romance’! Betraying the heroine much?]

[The main wife poisons the mistress? Internalized misogyny!]

Most authors would crumble under such attacks, but not Jian Sha.

"I’ve ridden a windowsill before. You think I’m scared of armchair critics?"

Jiang Ruotang scanned the comments and asked which studios she’d rejected. When Cefeng Pictures came up, he closed his eyes and smiled.

The vindictiveness, the refusal to let things go after rejection—textbook Han Ming.

An opportunity had landed in his lap. Why not turn the tables and give his future employee Ling Song some payback?

Jiang Ruotang contacted Lawyer Hong, categorized the malicious comments, and sued the worst offenders. Their real identities were uncovered, leading to a marketing studio—and like dominoes, several others were exposed.

Then he remembered: Geng Zhaotan worked in cultural oversight and was currently cracking down on entertainment industry misconduct. Why not hand him this ready-made achievement?

Sure enough, Geng Zhaotan’s investigation revealed these studios specialized in smearing competitors with planted rumors. Cefeng Pictures was publicly named and shamed.

Han Ming’s face darkened as shareholders questioned his competence and crisis control, nearly costing him his VP position.

Meanwhile, Jian Sha’s reputation was restored. The platform purged the toxic comments, and the studios issued abject apologies.

Cefeng’s "self-disciplinary" statement made headlines on Big Eyed Boy, while netizens resurfaced Han Ming’s past heavy-handed tactics—strong-arming scripts, forcing his protégés into roles, bullying directors.

Overwhelmed, Han Ming barricaded himself in his office as allies and rivals alike mocked him.

On set, Ling Song overheard crew members discussing the scandal.

"Han Ming sicced trolls on *West Window Strange Tales*’ author, but she traced them back to him!"

Ling Song exhaled silently. No lone author could go up against a studio VP—unless she had backing.

"Didn’t you hear? The writer’s classmates with Director Jiang’s son! He secured rights to the novel ages ago!"

Ling Song’s fingers twitched. Jiang Ruotang’s face flashed in his mind.

Could it... really be him?