Chapter Seventy: Cai Yinong, Who Lives on Pure Fantasy

Chen Ling Film Studio had specially built an editing suite when the company expanded and underwent renovations. After spending several days sorting out a mess of affairs, Chen Ling plunged headlong into the editing room, ready to seclude himself for some time. He intended to cut the final version of the film first; once the editing was done, the rest of the post-production could be handled without his constant supervision.

Knock, knock, knock... A series of raps on the door made Chen Ling set aside his work. Opening the editing room door, he found Zhao Qian standing outside.

“Sister Qian, is there something urgent?” he asked.

Before entering the editing suite, Chen Ling had told everyone not to disturb him unless it was important.

“It’s Yang Mi on the phone. She said she couldn't reach you, so she called me. She’s already called several times.” Zhao Qian’s tone was teasing, suggesting there was something going on in those calls.

Chen Ling checked his phone and, sure enough, saw several missed calls. He had set his phone to silent before entering the editing suite to avoid distractions, so naturally he’d missed Yang Mi’s calls. He had no idea what had happened online, so he asked, “Did she say what it was about?”

“You’d better check Weibo first,” Zhao Qian replied.

While Chen Ling scrolled through his computer, Zhao Qian explained the situation. After grasping the whole story, Chen Ling’s face remained calm, but inwardly, he mused, “This never happened in my previous life. Clearly, my little butterfly wings have already stirred up quite a few ripples.”

Before he could think further, Yang Mi called again; she seemed anxious.

“Hello, Senior, it’s me.”

“Director Chen, I’m sorry for troubling you again, it’s just that I...”

Without giving Yang Mi the chance for a lengthy speech, Chen Ling cut her off directly, “Neither Sister Qian nor I have spoken to anyone else about the contract.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end—Yang Mi clearly hadn’t expected Chen Ling to be so blunt.

“Director Chen, I was wrong last time. For the sake of being fellow alumni, I...”

“Senior!” Chen Ling’s patience was wearing thin. She disliked conversations layered with false courtesy and interrupted, “That’s all in the past, just a trivial matter. As for how things develop now, my answer is: I don’t know and I won’t comment. As for your other concerns, Senior, you’re overthinking it.”

Without waiting for a reply, Chen Ling ended the call. He understood perfectly well what Yang Mi was hinting at—she was afraid he’d use this as a chance to get revenge, to kick her when she was down.

But Yang Mi underestimated him. It wasn’t so much that Chen Ling hadn’t cared about the previous matter, but rather that he hadn’t cared about Yang Mi herself.

A foolish woman destined to be cast aside once she’d been wrung of all value—she wasn’t worth his time or attention.

To Chen Ling, this whole affair was nothing more than an amusing clown show. If he got involved, wouldn’t that make him a clown too? Let Cai Yinong and Yang Mi fight it out themselves—Cai Yinong wasn’t any better, after all.

After hanging up, Chen Ling turned to Zhao Qian. “Sister Qian, let’s just stay silent on this matter. If the media asks, we say nothing.”

Zhao Qian nodded. “Alright.” Internally, though, she thought: Our boss is still too kind. With that temperament, he might suffer in the future. In the entertainment industry, not everyone remembers to repay a favor.

On the other end of the line, Yang Mi listened to the busy signal, momentarily stunned. In her limited interactions with Chen Ling, he’d always come across as humble and calm, even a little aloof; for him to hang up on her so abruptly was unexpected. A woman’s heart is sensitive, and she felt his contempt.

Taking a deep breath and suppressing her grievances, unwillingness, and anger, Yang Mi turned to Zeng Jia, who was sitting beside her. “Jiajia, you heard Director Chen’s call. Do you think he was lying?”

Yang Mi had put the call on speaker. Zeng Jia, too, had sensed Chen Ling’s disdainful tone, and her anger was no less than Yang Mi’s. Although they had broken the contract first, Chen Ling’s attitude still left her uncomfortable. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

“I don’t think Chen Ling was lying. He shouldn’t have anything to do with this.” However upset they might be, both women understood they couldn’t provoke Chen Ling at this moment; even their way of addressing him had shifted from ‘Director Chen’ to just ‘Chen Ling.’

“What do we do next?”

“We fight back, of course!” Zeng Jia replied through gritted teeth. Yang Mi was central to her future plans; she absolutely could not fall now.

“Whatever you do, don’t antagonize Director Chen.” The change in how Zeng Jia referred to Chen Ling made Yang Mi realize something. She cautioned her, having come to terms with her own mistake—Chen Ling’s harsh tone wasn’t such a big deal.

Besides, he hadn’t actually said anything offensive, just spoken curtly; even now, with things as they were, he chose not to hold it against her. That was generous enough, which suited her perfectly.

Looks like she’d have to find an opportunity to apologize to Chen Ling properly when she returned to the capital, Yang Mi thought.

Zeng Jia forced a smile, squeezing Yang Mi’s hand gently. “Don’t worry, I know what to do.”

…

Online, on Weibo and forums, Yang Mi’s fans—calling themselves ‘Honeybees’—were locked in a fierce battle with Cai Yinong’s paid trolls. Because Yang Mi had yet to make a statement, her fans felt they were fighting with one hand tied behind their backs.

It wasn’t until evening that Yang Mi finally posted a strongly worded rebuttal on her personal Weibo—an eloquent post of over a thousand words.

She first apologized to the team of “Feast at Hongmen,” to Chen Ling Film Studio, and to Liu Yifei for being drawn into the incident. Then she refuted the rumors that she’d broken her contract with Chen Ling Film Studio in order to star in “Feast at Hongmen,” and also denied allegations of an improper relationship with Feng Shaofeng.

More importantly, in her post, Yang Mi directly tagged Tangren’s boss, Cai Yinong.

This move instantly sent fans and media into a frenzy. Yang Mi was clearly furious—no more holding back, she was going straight for the jugular, essentially telling Cai Yinong: Don’t pretend, we all know it’s you, let’s settle this face to face.

It had been ages since the domestic entertainment industry had seen such a public showdown between celebrities—gossip mongers and news outlets were as delighted as if it were a festival.

At that moment, Yang Mi, worried, turned to Zeng Jia, who had just used her phone to post the Weibo statement. “Jiajia, are you sure this is okay?”

“Don’t worry—it’s Director Li’s idea. Our film has a huge budget, and hype is crucial. Since things can’t be contained anymore, we might as well make it blow up.”

Zeng Jia wasn’t lying. Before posting, she’d sent the draft to Li Rengang for approval, and only posted it after he agreed.

His lavish period epic had a big budget and long production schedule; the pressure was immense. Since they’d have to hype it sooner or later, they might as well ride this wave—whatever the outcome, the movie would get publicity, so it was worth it.

Since the director himself had said so, neither Zeng Jia nor Yang Mi dared object. If Li Rengang couldn’t withstand the pressure and replaced Yang Mi, everything would have been for nothing.

“Honey, we need to move quickly with the thing I mentioned before.”

Meeting Zeng Jia’s meaningful gaze, Yang Mi hesitated, then nodded firmly.

…

“Boss, Cai Yinong called me. He wants us to cooperate and release the contract we signed with Yang Mi.”

Chen Ling was about to go to bed when he got a call from Zhao Qian. His phone was set to block calls from unknown numbers, so strangers couldn’t get through.

“Now he wants to coordinate with us? Where was he before?” Chen Ling couldn’t deny he was annoyed by Cai Yinong dragging him into this mess without warning.

“Yang Mi just posted her rebuttal on Weibo. Cai Yinong probably didn’t expect her to be so bold. Now, the only thing that could turn the tide for him is the contract we signed with Yang Mi.”

As for what Yang Mi had said on Weibo, Chen Ling didn’t care and had no intention of looking. If anything had threatened the company’s interests, Zhao Qian would’ve mentioned it—her silence meant there was nothing to worry about. As for Cai Yinong’s request, Chen Ling’s reply was:

“Tell Cai Yinong to stop dreaming.”

Zhao Qian stared at her phone after the call ended and shook her head with a wry smile. She certainly couldn’t relay Chen Ling’s words verbatim. She’d have to think carefully about how to respond.