Chapter 7: A Big-Shot Director? Worthless Trash—If You Can’t Film It, Go Die.

Xu Qingfeng’s level of attention was now at the peak of the industry; two consecutive rounds of exposés had made him the most talked-about person on Weibo. His recruitment post for bodyguards immediately sparked widespread discussion. If anyone else were to hire bodyguards so ostentatiously, netizens would certainly slam them for putting on airs, but since it was Xu Qingfeng, it all seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Brother, stay safe when you go out. I reckon there are quite a few people looking for you."
"Is 'Dog Xu' even afraid to step out of his front door now?"
"Let’s see if he’s still brave when he gets confronted in real life."
"Hahaha, if he doesn't hire bodyguards, he’ll probably vanish overnight. What a daredevil."
"Bro, even you know you’re in danger?"
"You dare say this? Is there no one left in this world you actually care about?"
"Can he really hire bodyguards this way?"

To the skepticism of the netizens, Xu Qingfeng confirmed that it was, in fact, useful. Since yesterday’s revelations, his Weibo inbox had been flooded with hundreds of death threats across various platforms. There were the mindless fans of Zhang Hongbo, the sycophants of Miao Qing, and now, the die-hard fans of Chen He and others. It was fair to say that the people who wanted him dead could form a reinforced company; beefing up his security was absolutely necessary.

After posting, Xu Qingfeng tested the lottery function.
[Congratulations on obtaining the song "Don't Bite Me!"]
[Congratulations on obtaining the song "Tears Behind Iron Bars!"]
[Congratulations on obtaining the song "The Ordinary Road!"]

Xu Qingfeng couldn't help but laugh; the damn system was clearly trying to make him offend the entire entertainment industry to death. If he sang these two songs, half the industry would likely have a mental breakdown. Xu Qingfeng glanced at them and didn't pay much mind. His current situation couldn't be solved by a few songs, and besides, he had nowhere to perform them anyway. He decided to keep them; they might come in handy someday.

On the other side, Li Deshou looked at the public opinion online like a drowning man clutching at a straw. According to the original plan, the next step in their PR campaign was to expose Xu Qingfeng, control the narrative, and use other information to shift the focus. But even with these measures, it was difficult to fully contain the situation unless there was a new, juicier scandal to grab everyone's attention.

In the entertainment industry, it was common for one star to be exposed for tax evasion, only for another to be caught in a cheating scandal just as the discussion peaked. This was a classic tactic of "scandal hedging," though it was a double-edged sword that easily incited infighting among celebrities and couldn't be used too often.

"Mr. Li, should we continue with our plan?"
Li Deshou glared at him. "You idiot, don't you see the public opinion is turning? Xu Qingfeng is finished."
"Yes, sir."
"Keep a close eye on the online news. Report to me the moment there’s any movement!"

Li Deshou’s tightly wound nerves finally relaxed. "Hahaha, heaven helps me! Those 'leeks' are still somewhat useful; they dragged so many people into this, even pulling Chen He into the fray. This little brat Xu Qingfeng is dead for sure now." Li Deshou began to whistle happily.

Others might not be able to land a fatal blow, but Chen He had been in the industry for decades; he wasn't just a director—he was capital itself. If Xu Qingfeng dared to continue his exposés against a man like that, the only thing waiting for him was a joint ban from everyone in the industry. If, however, Xu Qingfeng didn't dare to continue and chose to play dumb, the credibility of his previous exposés would be severely questioned. Lack of impartiality and solid proof would cause an immediate backlash, and no one would believe a word he said, even if it were the truth.

The dilemma was solved.

Elsewhere, Xu Qingfeng fell into deep thought as he watched his Weibo follower count fluctuate. Before his downfall, he had over fifty million followers, but over 90% were "zombie" accounts bought by his company; his real follower count had been pitifully low. After his first scandal, his numbers dropped by 200,000 every day—a drop in the bucket for a base of 50 million. But numbers weren't everything; those few hundred thousand who unfollowed were his real fans, the foundation of his commercial value.

After a day of revelations, his follower count had miraculously returned to its peak, and it fluctuated every single minute. It looked like a system data error, but Weibo’s technical stability was unquestionable. It could only mean one thing: old fans were leaving while new ones were joining. Like a blood transfusion, the foundation of his fanbase was quietly shifting.

Xu Qingfeng opened the trending list and saw several familiar topics:
#Searching for the Bus Passenger Nationwide#
#Chen He calls Xu Qingfeng a mad dog#
#Chen He is busy, new film officially wraps#
#Duan Zhe: Xu Qingfeng is spreading baseless rumors; lawyer's letter sent#
#Miao Qing working hard to polish her acting skills#

As expected, Xinghui Entertainment's PR had taken effect. Hardly anyone mentioned Zhang Hongbo’s tax evasion anymore; everyone's attention had been diverted to the salacious gossip. Meanwhile, Xu Qingfeng’s own trending keywords—"Lip-syncing," "Plagiarism," "Fan Manipulation"—were rising at an unnatural rate, and the comment sections were filled with nothing but vitriol. Scrolling through, it was impossible to tell which were paid trolls and which were netizens blindly following the trend.

"Activate 'Scandal Perspective'!"
The system’s features were truly useful; one only needed to provide a target to see their dark secrets. As the skill activated, wow—everything in his sight turned bright red. The skill categorized scandals by color: blue, yellow, orange, red, and black. The more severe the scandal, the darker the color. Chen He’s red meant he wasn't far from a prison cell.

[Multiple affairs during marriage.]
[Organized over 30 directors to take turns auditioning a certain star.]
[Prefers 'cultivating' young leads; has kept multiple young actresses as mistresses.]
[Threatened an actress to sleep with him on Valentine's Day or have all her scenes deleted.]
[Organized multiple actresses to perform striptease under the guise of casting.]
[Once...]

"This bunch of bastards really doesn't have a single good person among them." Xu Qingfeng cursed. He immediately left a comment under Chen He's trending topic: "A true 'old artist' indeed. Director Chen talks about artistic pursuit by day, but still finds time to teach the essentials of bed scenes at night. You really are a busy man."

As soon as Xu Qingfeng’s account—complete with its red-bottomed gold badge—commented, it attracted a massive crowd of onlookers.

"Holy crap, is this the real one or a high-quality fake?"
"666, it’s actually him?!"
"Bro, are you not afraid of losing your life?"
"Brother, are you really not afraid of being 'dealt with' in real life?"
"??? Does this mean every actress Chen He worked with was slept with?"
"Don't stop now, brother, can you clarify who they are?"

Xu Qingfeng pondered for a moment, thinking this AOE damage might be a bit too high; there were just too many actresses who had worked with Chen He.

"Director Chen certainly wanted to sleep with them all, but the spirit was willing and the flesh was weak."
"Holy sh*t, did Chen the dog really have that thought?"
"F*ck him, that old bastard better die a miserable death!"