He Sinian glanced at her and didn’t move.
Qiao Mai wasn’t happy either. When things happened just now, he stood there like a block of wood. Now that the trouble was resolved, he was starting to put on big-shot airs? What’s wrong with carrying a case of water?
The two of them stood at a stalemate. Neither looked at the other, and neither would back down.
The nearby crew members didn’t dare to breathe out loud, their eyes darting around nervously. “Thank you for your hard work, Captain Zhao! Have some water, drink up!” Sensing that the situation was turning sour, the director hurriedly picked up a case of mineral water and shoved it over. “Thanks, you guys are too polite.” Zhao Lei acknowledged repeatedly, casting a sideways glance backward as he took the water case. Seeing that He Sinian didn’t say anything, he quickly rounded up his brothers and retreated.
The heavy factory doors closed again. The venue quieted down.
Qiao Mai didn’t bother paying attention to He Sinian; she just clapped her hands. “Alright everyone, stop standing around. Back to work!”
The crew went back into full swing. Short dramas required a fast pace, and the director and floor manager cooperated seamlessly. Within a single day, they had already filmed the most important scenes. To get the drama online as quickly as possible, Qiao Mai simply bought five tents and sleeping mats at the local market, setting up camp with the entire crew right inside the factory. She even had the village chief temporarily hook up a tap water pipe so everyone could wash up.
After wrapping up for the day, Qiao Mai was so exhausted that her eyelids were fighting each other. She dived straight into her sleeping bag and didn’t move an inch.
Night deepened.
After washing up, He Sinian noticed that most people were already asleep. Over in the corner, a few screenwriters were still pulling an all-nighter to revise the flying pages and catch up on tomorrow’s scenes. He strolled over to the tent where Qiao Mai was staying. Everything was quiet around them.
He coughed to clear his throat and called out, “Qiao Mai.” There was no movement inside the tent. He pressed his lips together and called out again. “Qiao Mai.” Still no response from inside.
He Sinian tentatively lifted a corner of the tent flap. The faint glow of a flashlight spilled inside. The woman was wrapped up in her sleeping bag, her back turned to the entrance, completely motionless. He stood there watching for a few seconds. Then he dropped the tent flap and turned to walk away.
Outside the tent, the sound of footsteps faded into the distance.
The instant the flap fell, the person inside the sleeping bag opened her eyes. Qiao Mai rolled over and stared at the ceiling of the tent. She actually hadn’t fallen asleep yet—she was deliberately giving him the cold shoulder. That jerk usually acted like he was hot stuff. If she didn’t teach him a lesson today, who knew how much more arrogant he’d get in the future!
After that, their interactions remained strictly professional, with all communication handled in a strictly business-like tone. The whole crew knew they were a couple, but no one dared to try and persuade them otherwise.
Five days later, the short drama Strongest Son-in-Law: Return of the Dragon King went live across the entire internet. As soon as Qiao Mai finished settling the wages for the entire crew, she couldn’t even wait to return to the city; she just hugged her laptop inside the tent and stared fixedly at the data.
Two hours passed. Play count: 1,005. Top-up amount: 0.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Qiao Mai muttered, scratching her head in anxiety. “The plot is fast-paced, the face-slapping is satisfying, and the male lead’s looks are god-tier. How can nobody be watching?” Her index finger frantically hammered the left mouse button, refreshing the page. The numbers still showed zero improvement.
Seeing her claw her hair into a bird’s nest, He Sinian finally walked over. “Short dramas take time to gain traction. Don’t worry.” “No way! A good drama gets traction within three days, or it’s game over!” Qiao Mai leaped to her feet, nearly flipping over the laptop table. As she paced around the tent, her mind raced. “Too many people do routine publicity; it lacks originality and won’t go viral.” “If we want to break out of the mold, we have to take an unconventional route.”
He Sinian had expected her to be discouraged, and was surprised to see her so quickly fired up. “What kind of ‘unconventional route’ are you thinking of?” If she dared to make him do any suggestive or edgy content, he was walking out right then and there!
Qiao Mai hadn’t figured it out yet. Suddenly, her gaze locked onto the second-hand camera running in the corner. “Has this machine been running the whole time?” “Yeah,” He Sinian said, suspicion in his eyes. “It’s been on since the very first day. The director said it could capture useful footage, so it was never turned off.”
A spark of excitement danced in Qiao Mai’s pretty pupils. She had it! Didn’t Chu Jiaojiao come over to cause a scene a few days ago? Since this backup camera had been recording the whole time, it definitely captured that exact scenario.
She immediately pulled the memory card out of the video camera and jammed it into her laptop. Twenty minutes later, a short video titled True Wealthy Heiress Bullies Innocent Passersby, Grassroots Crew Stands Tall Against Capital was uploaded to major short-video platforms.
The video quality was rough, but it had a massive visual impact. Chu Jiaojiao was shown acting overbearing and arrogant while smashing up the set. He Sinian was captured leaning against a dim corner, covered in dirt yet radiating unyielding backbone—his cool, ascetic profile paired with the subtitle “Refusing to bow down to capital.” It maxed out the aesthetic vibe of a tragic, stunning hero.
The climax of the video showed Qiao Mai stepping in front of him like a mother hen protecting her chick, followed by the timely appearance of the security captain demanding an absurd fifty-thousand-yuan compensation, completing the satisfying reversal.
“Success!” Qiao Mai sat back down on her sleeping mat, rubbing her hands together eagerly. “I refuse to believe this topic won’t make our drama blow up!” With that, she sent the video link into a chat group for socialite girls. Then, putting on a sweet, affected voice, she sent a voice message: [Dears, this video on Douyin is blowing up right now. It’s absolute reality brought to life! You guys have to go watch it, or you’ll look out of touch when chatting with people outside.]
That crowd loved nothing more than positioning themselves as “experts in the know.” With juicy gossip like this, they would definitely share it immediately. Sure enough, someone jumped into the chat right away: [Oh my god, I watched this video five minutes ago. That rich daughter or whatever her name is, is seriously unhinged. If she has money, she should go get a spa day or go shopping instead of making a fool of herself out in the sticks. What a psycho!] [What a coincidence, I watched it six minutes ago too. I don’t get that spoiled brat either, but that guy is super handsome. I totally wish I could get a date with him.] [Wait a minute… why do I see Qiaoqiao in the video too?]
The group instantly went quiet. Qiao Mai didn’t reply. Let them guess!
Watching her smile with utter triumph, He Sinian didn’t even need to ask to know she had been up to no good again. Soon, his phone vibrated. Lin Chuan sent him a message: [President He, a video about you is going viral all over the internet. Not only does it violate your portrait rights, but it also paints you as a tragic hero. Should we issue a lawyer’s letter?]
He Sinian opened the video, glanced at it, and immediately understood what was going on. [No need. Keep boosting the traffic and make this video blow up completely.]
It took Lin Chuan half a minute to reply: [Understood.]
Over the next three hours, Qiao Mai deeply witnessed the terrifying power of internet traffic. The behind-the-scenes video completely exploded. From the initial few thousand likes, it skyrocketed straight into the millions. The comment section was refreshing at a frantic pace: “Holy shit! Who is that minor character actor playing the substitute? His gaze is killer!” “Full support to the film crew for standing up to that arrogant heiress!” “This guy is just a random passerby? Saying he’s ordinary is like calling Ancient Tombs-era Louis Koo plain!” “Give me all the background info on this man within one minute!” “Brothers, go flood their short drama! Let’s make some money so our young master can get his revenge!”
Class resentment and sympathy transformed into countless traffic links, driving massive waves of users into the short drama platform.
Night fell. The cable factory was quiet, save for the eerie, ambient glow emanating from inside the tent.
“One, two, three… seven!” Qiao Mai traced her fingertip across the screen, counting the zeros one by one. Her voice went from trembling to a shriek. “Seven zeros! It’s in the tens of millions!” “He Sinian, our top-up revenue has broken ten million!”
So excited she jumped three feet in the air, she lunged straight over the table and threw herself into He Sinian’s arms. “We’re rich! We’re actually rich!”
He Sinian was looking down at the stock market index on his phone when he was caught completely off guard and hit full-force. Qiao Mai’s arms locked tightly around his neck. Her shriek of excitement exploded right beside his ear. A clean, subtle scent of citrus soap rushed straight into his nostrils.
He Sinian’s body stiffened abruptly. In all his years, no woman had ever dared to latch onto him in such an octopus-like stranglehold.