Chapter 25: The Clarion Call of War

"Are you alright? Anything wrong?"

A staff member helped Sun Yali up from the floor and handed her an ice pack that had been prepared in advance. To ensure the success of the live stream, the content team had coordinated with Sun Yali beforehand: their actor would land a solid slap on her face, Sun Yali would then weep genuinely, and the stream would promptly end.

"I'm fine. It's just acting."

Sun Yali wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. She had performed well—not just during the slap at the end, but even during the preceding argument, where she had already been sobbing uncontrollably. They had rehearsed the script several times, but none of the previous takes had the impact of today’s live broadcast. Her supervisor, Ice, was thrilled with this impulsive, raw acting style and was eager to promote Sun Yali to a higher tier of priority.

"Get some rest; don't worry about what comes next. The post-analysis, the traffic redirection, and the hype building are all taken care of. Just wait for your fame to skyrocket. According to the platform’s projection, your traffic should have only reached 8,000, but the peak hit nearly 20,000. The effect was excellent. I will report this to the company; you have nothing to worry about regarding future traffic, especially for the second phase of the live-streaming competition."

Sun Yali forced a smile, her face feeling stiff. "Thank you, Supervisor."

Ice patted her shoulder. "Keep up the good work. Your blessings are yet to come."

Sun Yali kept her head down, seemingly unaccustomed to her supervisor finding time for memes at a moment like this. Her left cheek was twitching, numb from the ice pack. It didn't hurt much, but she felt deeply uncomfortable.

She truly loved wheat carving. She loved the golden stalks, the process of turning chaos into order, and the creativity of transforming waste into art. But ever since she accepted that business plan, she had strayed far from her original intention.

*Whatever!* It is good to turn what you love into a career, but it’s pointless if you can’t make money. She had practiced wheat carving for so long; she had done justice to the ancestors who passed down the craft. The company was right: wanting to be famous wasn't a crime. Ambition is the source of human progress! She would surpass Lin Ke.

She would surpass everyone who looked down on her, attain the highest traffic, and earn the most money!

*Mom, your spirit in heaven will support your daughter, right?* You were an artist your whole life; it’s time your daughter used this art to build a fortune.

Reaching the entrance of the Cocoon-Breaking Tower, Sun Yali looked back at the company building. Bright red neon characters flickered on the towering rooftop—the peak of "Cocoon-Breaking." It was a high point from which one could overlook the entire city.

Turning away, Sun Yali tossed the ice pack aside. She didn't bother to tend to her swelling lip, nor did she put on a mask to hide it; she simply walked away with long, determined strides.

This was her medal. It was the clarion call of her declaration of war.

***

In the same industrial park, the Yellow Lantern office building was unusually dark.

It was the company’s year-end gala. Most employees and streamers were in attendance, followed by an all-night dance party. Invitations had been sent out, and the top ten luxury hotels in the city had been entirely booked, with countless halls and private rooms filled.

Given the scale of the Yellow Lantern MCN agency, the moment the invitations went out, every entertainment company in the city made its move. Word had it that this level of banquet was where one could meet the reclusive titans of the industry; how could small-time artists pass up such an opportunity?

App users might have noticed that the streamers currently online were all unknown newcomers, while the "die-hard fans" already knew the streamers were gathered for the year-end celebration. It was also a time for a ruthless scramble for next year’s resources.

Top-tier entertainment companies had so many artists that their internal resources were insufficient, so they rarely opened their doors to outsiders. Aside from the "Awards Nights" held by major platforms, the Yellow Lantern year-end gala was practically a mini-festival for the entertainment industry. Countless big shots were in attendance today; high-performing streamers and artists were naturally reaping the rewards, while the underperformers were taking this rare chance to rub shoulders with the powerful and hope for a stroke of luck.

In the top-floor hall of the five-star hotel, Xu Meiqi wore a pure white evening gown. The delicate satin shimmered with subtle, iridescent colors under the lights, rippling like water as she moved. The layers of light tulle at the hem were as airy as clouds, revealing glimpses of her skin. She was perhaps the most dazzling person in the hall.

At the Yellow Lantern gala, the company’s true top-tier artists and streamers didn't appear in the main hall; they were in private rooms, socializing with the heavyweights who remained out of the public eye. Xu Meiqi’s status was just enough that she didn't qualify for private meetings but was worthy of the main dance hall. The refreshments here were crafted by Michelin-starred masters, and the crowd consisted of either the wealthy and powerful or the up-and-coming streamers and artists from various agencies. Of course, her status wasn't based on her traffic, but rather the fact that her manager was a top-tier agent.

Crystal chandeliers shattered into thousands of light points across the vaulted ceiling. Whispers filled every corner of the hall. Many of next year's grand plans were taking shape tonight. Top-tier companies had their own ecosystems, and Yellow Lantern occupied a unique position through its indiscriminate openness and its fearless pursuit of trends.

Xu Meiqi looked toward the corner, where her boyfriend, Zhou Yifan, was chatting and laughing with a beautiful young artist. Although Zhou Yifan was a celebrity manager who had never actually managed an actor, that didn't stop the bottom-tier starlets from having other ideas about him.

"Teacher Yifan, you might not remember me, but two years ago at an event, you told me that to be an actor, one's gaze must be steady and moving, not wandering—that one must be able to see the stars. I’ve always remembered that. Later, a director spotted me on set and said my eyes weren't suited for playing housemaids. I played a supporting role for the first time and gained some popularity, and this year, I’ve already landed a second-lead role."

The young girl was charming, her eyes sparkling. In a circle filled with myopia and minor cosmetic surgery, her gaze was indeed lively. That one casual remark from Zhou Yifan back then had helped her shed her shyness, and she was slowly developing the presence of a leading lady. After a short clip of her as a minor supporting character went viral on social media, she had been placed on the company's key development list. How could she not be grateful?

Even though this "second lead" was for a low-budget web drama that didn't even reach an A-grade rating, for someone who had spent years as a "nobody" on the bottom rung, this was progress.

Zhou Yifan smiled perfectly; he had encountered such scenes countless times. At the time, it had indeed been nothing more than a casual, idle comment. "You're too kind. You were destined to be famous; it had nothing to do with me."

The young artist’s cheeks flushed even redder.

If you haven't been a bottom-tier artist, you don't know how bitter the glitz and glamour of the entertainment industry truly is. For a gig paying 2,000 yuan, the company would take 1,500, and the remaining 500 had to cover all taxes. The money earned from a single role wasn't even enough to buy bubble tea for the crew. As for how long she had to work in 40-degree heat wearing thick, stinking costumes, or how many times she had to jump into filthy, freezing ditches—naturally, no one cared. The fact that she could get 2,000 yuan was actually because she wasn't a total extra.

Not being famous was an original sin. But in this race across a narrow bridge with thousands of competitors, she had already taken the first step.

Gathering her courage, the young artist took another step forward. This time, she deliberately stepped slightly off-balance. Her high heel would soon twist, she would fall in Zhou Yifan's direction, and the loose, off-the-shoulder neckline of her dress would naturally slip down.

Everything would fall into place.