【No wonder you chose to redeem the Trending Charts. It really is the fastest way to attract audience attention.】
“Of course. No one can resist the charm of being number one.” Ying Shi was naturally very satisfied with Wanshi Trending as well. “Don’t let those fans’ daily cursing of ‘rigged charts’ fool you—they go absolutely crazy when it comes to competing for rankings.”
What’s more, the ranking basis provided by the system was viewership and ratings, with data that was absolutely authentic and free of ‘water’ (inflation).
Authenticity meant aligning with the expectations of most ordinary viewers.
Ying Shi believed that fans were playing an increasingly smaller role in viewership and ratings these days. Otherwise, so many traffic stars wouldn’t have flopped.
Ordinary viewers might not go out of their way to search for trending charts, but fans, anti-fans, and marketing accounts would repost them. As long as one more ordinary viewer came across the chart out of curiosity, they’d feel that this “subjective” chart aligned with their expectations better than most “objective” charts.
Once Wanshi Trending came to represent the opinions of the majority of viewers, even if it was labeled a rigged chart, more people—especially fans—would join the battle to prove their idols’ ability to carry a drama.
And as Wanshi Trending’s influence grew, Ying Shi’s goal would be achieved.
However, what Ying Shi hadn’t expected was that the Trending Charts could also earn points. As more and more netizens visited Wanshi Trending, her points steadily accumulated, giving her confidence and a sense of security.
Watching her points increase steadily, Ying Shi began contemplating her next move.
It wasn’t until post-production on “Little Sweetheart” was completed that she told the others her decision: she would release it for free, charging viewers nothing to watch the drama.
…
After “Little Sweetheart” wrapped, Zhou Qingning found herself once again in a state of unemployment.
Unlike Shen Xiao, who had an agency, once this drama ended, she returned to her original state of being unable to land any roles.
She currently lived in a rental near the film and television base. Ying Shi Entertainment was generous—the pay for this drama, while not astronomical, was enough for her to take it easy for a while.
In all honesty, Zhou Qingning believed “Little Sweetheart” was a good drama. The story was simple, but the logic held up, it had a proper beginning and end, and the character development stayed consistent.
But she had heard from Shen Xiao that “Little Sweetheart’s” future was looking grim.
To say she wasn’t disappointed would be a lie, but what she felt more was a sense of regret. This was the collective effort of the entire crew. She had seen how seriously everyone worked during filming.
Now, due to certain industry politics and suppression, it seemed the drama might end up buried without a trace.
After feeling down for a while, Zhou Qingning went back to life as an extra. Even if she still had money in her pocket, not working made her feel unsettled.
Amidst this busy routine, a notification appeared in the “Little Sweetheart” crew group chat: the drama was about to air, and everyone should help promote it.
Zhou Qingning was surprised, then immediately delighted. Regardless of how well it performed, the fact that it could successfully air was already a good thing.
And she believed in the quality of this drama. As long as it aired, it was impossible for it to make no waves at all.
When she clicked the link in the group chat, the page jumped to a minimalist-style website. A two-person poster for the drama was displayed at the top, with a note next to it indicating it was “Coming Soon.”
Apart from the director, screenwriter, and main cast, there were no trailers, behind-the-scenes clips, or any other promotional materials.
Zhou Qingning looked more closely. This wasn’t any of the video platforms she was familiar with—it was…
Wanshi TV?
She immediately thought of the recently popular Wanshi Trending and then remembered that Wanshi Trending was also under Ying Shi Entertainment’s umbrella.
Following the instructions in the group chat, Zhou Qingning composed a post on Weibo, attached a still from the drama, and hit publish.
Unfortunately, she was a nobody. After she posted on Weibo, no one paid any attention. It wasn’t until the official drama account reposted it, followed by the boss reposting it herself, that she finally got a few likes and followers.
As always, the most popular person in their crew was the investor.
Besides the curious onlookers, there were also a few netizens drawn in by the stills. Say what you will, but the crew’s costumes, makeup, and props were exquisitely done. The outfits were particularly detailed—all custom-made and now under the ownership of the boss’s company.
Zhou Qingning had visited Ying Shi Entertainment’s building before. The entire fifth floor was dedicated to costumes, makeup, and props. Besides the offices for stylists and makeup artists, there were massive warehouses for costumes and props, all cared for and cleaned by dedicated staff.
Of course, there were also people mocking their crew for being full of nobodies, but the jeers were relatively few on her page—the brunt of the attacks was concentrated on the boss.
Zhou Qingning still remembered how stunned she was when she first found out that Boss Ying was Guanjun.
Boss Ying seemed so gentle and refined, with a good temper. She always had a smile in her eyes and never interfered with the filming on set. Who would have imagined she was the same person fearlessly charging ahead online, engaging in full-on battles with commenters?
Actually, “full-on battles” might be overstating it. She had witnessed the spectacle of Boss Ying going head-to-head with people online.
From what she could tell, Boss Ying was still very rational. Every time, she would tag Li Yinan and his studio directly, never hanging the target on anyone else.
In any case, no matter what went wrong, it was always Li Yinan’s fault.
Amid all the chaos and noise, the drama aired. Before its release, aside from a few stills, there was still no promotional material at all.
Zhou Qingning opened Wanshi TV’s homepage on her computer and saw three options at the top: “Wanshi Entertainment,” “Wanshi Trending,” and “Wanshi TV.”
The page she was on now was “Wanshi TV.”
She moved her gaze down to the display area. The main interface of Wanshi TV showed only one drama, “Little Sweetheart,” looking rather lonely and bare.
Boss Ying had already announced that “Little Sweetheart” would be free to watch.
As soon as she clicked on the drama, a fifteen-second ad played. It was a beverage commercial—energetic young people parkouring under the scorching sun, each of them ending up chugging a bottle of the drink.
The fifteen-second ad countdown ended, the drama’s opening sequence unfolded, and a gentle, soothing soundtrack slowly faded in.
The first thing that came into view was a panoramic shot of the Prince’s mansion, shrouded in a misty rain. As a female vocalist began to sing, the scene transitioned to the mansion’s rear courtyard. Under the flowering branches, in a pavilion, a young girl lay sleeping with her eyes closed.
A youth in luxurious robes held an umbrella over her, shielding her from the rain, his gaze fixed on her with deep absorption. A low male voice joined the female vocals, softly conveying lingering affection…
Zhou Qingning didn’t even feel the awkwardness of watching herself act. In that moment, she felt that the person on screen wasn’t just a character she was playing—it was Shen Zhuhe herself, the girl who had grown up without a care in the world.
Scenes flashed by: the lantern festival, the palace corridors, the bustling teahouse—memories of the youth and the girl were scattered in every corner, finally ending at the grand, vividly red wedding hall.
In the bridal chamber, the newlyweds sat side by side, their postures distant. Gradually, the scene shifted to the young couple leaning on each other.
It wasn’t until the three large characters “Little Sweetheart” appeared on screen that Zhou Qingning snapped back to reality.
Zhou Qingning felt that “Little Sweetheart” was going to be a hit. If even she, the actress who played the role, could get so absorbed in it, there was no way audiences wouldn’t be captivated.
[A “Little Sweetheart” Release Prediction: How do you think this drama will perform?]
[OP: I took a look at the creative team. Director Lin Chongshan—his last project was “For Your Sake” (dog head). Screenwriter Song Zhizhi—no major writing credits to her name. Leads Zhou Qingning and Shen Xiao—completely unknown. So, do you think this drama is reliable?]
— [“For Your Sake” is my eternal wound. Based on that alone, this feels like a flop waiting to happen.]
— [Might as well let Guanjun act in it herself—at least she has some name recognition.]
— [Unknown cast, unknown crew, destined to sink into obscurity!]
— [Guanjun knows her stuff when it comes to reviewing dramas, but making one is a completely different story…]
…
— [Okay, I’m back. It’s actually free. I didn’t even need to register an account to watch in 4K ultra HD. The only downside is there are quite a few ads—one at the start, one in the middle, and a little bouncing icon in the bottom right corner of the screen that you can’t even skip.]
— [They have to make money from making a drama, right? Since they’re not charging you, of course they’re making it from advertisers.]
— [It’s actually not that bad. Other platforms have all kinds of ads too, and on top of that, they make you pay for memberships.]
— [Is nobody going to talk about the plot? I think it’s really good! Zhu Zhu is absolutely adorable—she’s my internet daughter!!! I’m warning Prince Kang not to be so ungrateful!]
— [The silly little couple is just too cute TAT. This is the kind of story a fierce eagle of a woman like me deserves to watch.]
— [I saw somewhere that the leads are fresh graduates. It’s about time. Let young people play young people—it makes the whole atmosphere feel so much fresher.]
— [These two newcomers are really good actors. So why exactly do we have to watch those veterans who can’t act and aren’t even good-looking?]
— [The newcomers don’t have any connections. I saw a behind-the-scenes post—the female lead went back to being an extra after filming this drama.]
— [That bad?]
— [What can you do? With no connections and no agency, the only way is starting from the bottom as an extra.]
Overall, thanks to requiring no registration and offering free HD viewing, “Little Sweetheart” had a decent premiere viewership. When Wanshi Trending released the next day’s chart, it had a trending score of 35—slightly higher than “Si Hua Nian” had at its peak, placing it fourth on the chart.
This completely set off Li Yinan’s fanbase like a bomb.
[This is disgusting. Still stepping on him!]
[She’s completely leeching off Nan Ge’s popularity. Even now, she still won’t let him go!]
[Does anyone still think this chart is fair? Check the three major data charts—this lousy drama only accounts for about 4%, barely scraping into ninth place. She’s rigging the numbers for her own drama. Absolutely disgusting!]
[Low-class person, low-class drama. A flop waiting to happen!]
No one was cursing her out yet, because Guanjun had a reputation for taking screenshots. The moment someone insulted her, she’d screenshot it and tag the celebrity involved.
If you clicked on her profile, nine out of ten posts were her reporting someone, and the one she tagged the most was Li Yinan.
By now, the image of Li Yinan’s fans being foul-mouthed was deeply ingrained in everyone’s minds.
No one understood—wasn’t she a company president? How did she have so much free time? She actually went through the profiles of fans who insulted her one by one, identified which fandom they belonged to, and dealt with them accordingly.
Ying Shi felt like she was very busy, but even with her busy schedule, she still found time to reply to people on Weibo.
[Procrastinating Drama Watcher V: I’m not fair at all. I already said it’s subjective ranking, for reference only.]
Thanks to Wanshi Trending and Ying Shi’s often unhinged antics, she had managed to accumulate a certain number of followers. With the release of her new drama, her follower count had recently surged past one million.
Of course, this number of followers was nothing compared to Li Yinan’s fanbase—but Guanjun’s fans weren’t exactly the “loyal defense squad” type anyway.
[I condemn Guanjun’s actions. If you’re gonna rig the chart anyway, why not rig it so my Little Sweetheart gets to the top?]
[Exactly. She’s your own little baby. Would it kill you to put her at number one?]
[Useless mushroom[1]In Chinese internet slang, “蘑菇” (mógu / mushroom) is a playful way to refer to someone whose username contains the character “菌” (jūn) — which literally means … Continue reading jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2029583_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2029583_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. For a CEO, you can’t even manage that? Your own drama stuck in fourth place? Put on your boss pants and make it happen!]
[Useless mushroom. Though it actually sounds kind of delicious.]
[What kind of CEO spends their time tagging people and tattling on fans all day…]
[Alright, I’m having spicy chicken mushroom for lunch today (drooling)]
[Any recipes for spicy chicken mushroom? Waiting online.]
[Waiting online +1]
[+1]
…
In any case, after all of Li Yinan’s fans’ efforts, the damage dealt to the enemy was zero, while the self-inflicted damage was -500.
You could say the casualties were severe.
Li Yinan was currently on set filming a drama. Despite the endless stream of negative news about his fans, it didn’t affect his ability to land roles—after all, he had Enyao backing him up.
But he still couldn’t help paying attention to Guanjun’s new drama. One look, and he was absolutely livid.
Were these people out of their minds?
References[+]