Of course, whether understanding or respectful, she still had to make her stance clear.
[Procrastinating Drama Watcher V: #The one who needs comforting is me, not your fans (image) (image)……]
The screenshots were all comments from Li Yinan’s fans attacking her. The foulest insults had turned into asterisks, and there were plenty of comments claiming she had staged the stabbing incident herself just to generate hype for her company.
[Procrastinating Drama Watcher V: @Li Yinan @Li Yinan Studio, so do you also think I staged my own stabbing?]
Would Li Yinan dare to say she staged it? Clearly not.
After all, the case had been thoroughly investigated. If he said that, he’d be accusing the relevant authorities of dereliction of duty.
[OMG, she’s going straight for the throat]
[LMAO, you want to talk behind her back? Then step up and face her head-on!]
[“The one who needs comforting is me, not your fans” — LOL, it’s both hilarious and kinda sad.]
[This is so fake and low. It was his fan who went crazy in the first place, and now he’s trying to stir up his fans to harass the victim?]
[Weren’t they just under strict scrutiny recently? The dust hasn’t even settled and he’s already stirring up trouble again?]
[May every fake and passive-aggressive celeb meet Guanjun!!!]
[This month’s entertainment is officially brought to me by Guanjun, emmm]
Li Yinan would probably lie low for a while again. Ying Shi put away her phone and took the company car back to the office building.
Getting out of the car, she entered through the face recognition system at the main entrance, moving without any obstruction.
At the reception desk in the lobby were two young women around twenty-five or twenty-six. One had a round face with small dimples, the other was cool and striking in her beauty.
Both were wearing loose white T-shirts with small round collars, their hair tied up in ponytails, giving off a youthful, campus-like vibe.
Yes—white T-shirts.
Ying Shi had once had the “privilege” of wearing a suit for work and found it extremely uncomfortable. So for her own company, she decided on white T-shirts as the uniform—loose-fitting, made of high-quality fabric, paired with solid black tapered sweatpants.
Later, considering that cleaning staff would find white clothes hard to keep clean, she chose gray T-shirts for them. Security personnel, being a special role requiring clear identification, were given standard security uniforms.
Of course, aside from reception, cleaning, and security, others were not required to wear uniforms.
But Ying Shi herself took two gray and two white sets of the company uniform and often wore them interchangeably. She was also planning to switch to loose hoodies as workwear once winter came—after all, the expenses were covered by the system.
She firmly denied trying to get free clothes for herself…
The two receptionists spotted Ying Shi and, having grown accustomed to her wearing the gray T-shirt, weren’t surprised. They simply stood up and greeted her.
Ying Shi waved back with a smile and headed toward the private elevator.
…
At that very moment, inside the Enyao Entertainment building, in the artist management department office—
Li Yinan slammed his phone onto the ground in anger. The assistant beside him, who had been pouring water, flinched in fear. Sneaking a glance at his expression, she carefully crouched down to pick up the phone with its shattered screen.
“What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” His agent, Qin Xu, walked into the office. He had just finished an urgent meeting with the head of the PR department and was now returning.
Li Yinan was of medium build, standing at 1.78 meters—not short, but clearly unremarkable in the entertainment industry, where long legs were everywhere. Given his shortcomings in appearance, he definitely needed to inflate his height to squeeze into the 1.8-meter club.
That was why nothing bothered him more than being told he didn’t have a “celebrity face.”
The plan had always been carefully orchestrated—playing the reliable mastermind on variety shows, using scripted moments to craft an image of being gentle and intelligent. After building up a certain number of fans, the next step was to transition into the film and television industry. Everything had been going smoothly, until those review bloggers, chasing clout and traffic, kept bringing up his lack of good looks.
Led by those bloggers, a growing number of voices began opposing him taking on male lead roles.
“Didn’t they say Ying Shi Entertainment has no background? Then why can’t we suppress the trending topics and control the public opinion?” Li Yinan truly didn’t understand. Why did the “crazy fan stabbing” have to be his fan? They were the ones who committed the assault, and they were the reason the situation spiraled out of control. All they did was cause trouble for him, and yet he still had to put on a smiling face and comfort them!
Qin Xu reminded him, “Don’t provoke that Drama Watcher for now. Let things settle down.”
Li Yinan was about to protest, but Qin Xu cut him off.
“The things she’s done haven’t just affected you—they’ve affected quite a few popular stars. She’s making a drama now, isn’t she? The major platforms won’t let her do whatever she wants. When the time comes, she can shoot all she wants, but there won’t be anywhere to air it.”
…
Ying Shi was temporarily unaware that her drama might not be able to air. Her main concerns were that summer vacation was approaching, final exams were coming up, and the crew was filming on location all over the country and nearing wrap.
After the initial wave of curiosity among her classmates wore off, they stopped paying much attention to Ying Shi’s role as a entertainment company president. After all, she wasn’t a celebrity. Once the buzz faded, she went back to blending in as just another university student.
“When is Little Sweetheart planning to air?”
That weekend, Xu Jinxi followed Ying Shi to the cafeteria, and they stood in line with the crowd.
Her other two roommates had gone home for various reasons, so the two of them were left to fend for themselves.
Ying Shi looked at the meal trays behind the counter: “As soon as post-production is done and the permits come through, it’ll air immediately.”
“That soon?” Xu Jinxi was also surprised. Wasn’t there usually a long promotional period after a drama finished filming?
“As long as it’s well-made, any day is a lucky day to air.” Ying Shi spouted her usual nonsense. She just felt that breaking into the entertainment industry wouldn’t be easy—there were bound to be a lot of obstacles—so if there was a chance to air it, she should air it as soon as possible.
The rules of the entertainment industry were all about bowing to those who made the rules. Most people had grown accustomed to this. As an outsider with no connections, no influence, no background, relying solely on the system’s cheat-like support, trying to tear up those rules would definitely make the entire industry isolate her.
She needed to figure out a way to prevent any sabotage from her opponents.
“System, can you set up a video streaming platform?” Ying Shi asked silently in her mind as she ate.
【Glad to see you’re already thinking ahead.】
Ying Shi’s eyes lit up. “How many points?”
A number lit up in her mind, and she immediately deflated. “Even with the drama wrapped up, I couldn’t scrape together that many points…”
She now had over two years of lifespan and had accumulated quite a few points—she had temporarily escaped the state of being completely broke.
Yet every time she started feeling pleased with her current situation, she was hit with another harsh reality check.
“Can you tell me more about the features of this video streaming platform?” She wanted to see what kind of thing could cost such an astronomical number of points!
The system was patient. Ever since Ying Shi had repeatedly used various reasons to improve company benefits, it had stopped questioning things.
After all, the company car belonged to the company—anyone could use it. The entertainment facilities in the lounge also belonged to the company—any employee could come relax during breaks. Even the library, screening hall, sports field, and so on—all had been developed by Ying Shi under the pretense of “boosting employee morale.”
Back when they first bonded, the system had scanned Ying Shi’s background, and its evaluation of the host was “upright, polite, and gentle.” But after the bonding, the system felt that Ying Shi’s actual behavior was completely opposite to that assessment.
But since the points it earned were never lacking, the system didn’t dwell on it. It simply uploaded a “Host Scan Evaluation Function Malfunction Feedback” report.
As the system introduced the “video streaming platform,” Ying Shi’s expression shifted from critical to shocked, then slowly to “wait, that’s possible?” before gradually settling into calm.
A calm of resignation, to be precise.
This was no mere “video streaming platform”—it could also enable forums, fan-editing sections, trending charts, and all kinds of elaborate features. Its purpose was clearly to sweep up the entire existing entertainment circle’s interactive spaces under one roof.
So the astronomical point cost was justified. Ying Shi, for now, wasn’t qualified to unlock it. She could only close the introduction with tears in her eyes.
“Do you know how many people are surprised that you still come to the school cafeteria?”
Xu Jinxi noticed the occasional glances being cast their way and said this in a low voice.
Ying Shi continued eating the fried chicken cutlet on her tray as usual. “Isn’t the cafeteria food pretty good?”
“Your employees are always posting pictures of the amazing food from your company cafeteria online. So many people are hoping to get into your company now!”
Xu Jinxi’s tone carried a hint of envy as she spoke.
Ying Shi looked up at her. “What about you? Do you want to come?”
Xu Jinxi’s eyes widened. After thinking for a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t know. We’re only sophomores—I don’t want to think about such a troublesome question yet!”
Ying Shi smiled. In truth, she knew that when acquaintances became subordinates, the relationship could sometimes grow distant.
But her company was a film and television company. If her three roommates were interested in trying their hand in the entertainment industry, she would be more than happy to have them join.
Xu Jinxi was a soft-spoken girl who was a bit slow to react. Wen Jiming was striking in appearance but had a sharp tongue and a fiery temper. Jiang Nian was a mild-mannered, smiling type who was hard to read.
Each of her roommates had their own distinct qualities—clearly the kind of people who had star potential.
However, since her company wasn’t currently planning to do talent management, this was just a habit she had developed: looking at everyone she met through the lens of a “talent scout.”
So her conversations with her roommates on this topic were still just playful banter.
…
On the day “Little Sweetheart” wrapped, Ying Shi was there on set.
The final scene of the entire production was the very first time the male and female leads appeared together in the main storyline.
The female lead, Shen Zhuhe, was sitting in a private booth at a teahouse, sipping tea and listening to storytelling, when Prince Kang, Zhao Lingze, stormed in to find her. He demanded to know whether she had anything to do with the imperial marriage decree. But Shen Zhuhe, being naturally slow on the uptake, didn’t truly grasp the significance of the engagement, nor did she understand why the Prince was so angry.
The two talked past each other, and in the end, Prince Kang stormed off in a rage.
In this scene, the male and female leads were already familiar with each other—after all, they had grown up together as childhood friends. Yet their feelings hadn’t developed to the point of intimacy, so the tone of their interaction needed to be carefully balanced.
The rehearsal was especially interesting—after all, the two actors had already performed the entire story: getting married, kissing, embracing. Now they had to return to the initial state of being more distant, which required some adjustment.
Fortunately, the actors were excellent. The male lead, Shen Xiao, was a bit inexperienced, but with the female lead, Zhou Qingning, guiding him, he quickly got into character.
After the crew wrapped, Ying Shi also took a group photo. She deliberately stood at the very edge, firmly refusing to compete with the leads and director for the center spot.
As the crowd dispersed and the crew began packing up the set, Lin Chongshan pulled Ying Shi aside.
“My mentor told me something.” The smile faded from his face. “The major platforms seem to have reached a silent agreement—none of them will pick up our drama.”
Ying Shi hadn’t expected her premonition to come true so soon.
“Just focus on the post-production. I’ll handle the rest.”
Lin Chongshan looked like he wanted to say something, but since he didn’t have any good solutions either, he simply nodded.
Ying Shi had originally thought that the entertainment industry was essentially one giant circle of interests. As long as she could offer enough profit, there would always be a platform willing to collaborate.
But now she felt that “Little Sweetheart” didn’t have enough leverage. With all the platforms and companies trading favors among themselves, they might very well buy the rights only to shelve the drama. After all, the only investor in this production was Ying Shi Entertainment.
After thinking it over, her thoughts turned back to the system’s elaborate video platform.
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