Cao Cheng chuckled: "Old Pao, don’t say I’m bullying an old-timer like you. If you lose, just cut the nonsense. From now on, at the end of all your films and TV shows, you’ll have to display in big bold letters: 'Young Master Cao is invincible and the handsomest man alive.'"
"..."
"..."
This felt like a childish bet.
It was downright ridiculous.
So embarrassing.
For a moment, Old Pao was at a loss for words.
Cao Cheng added, "What? Is that too much to ask? If you can’t surpass me in six years, is admitting defeat really that insulting? Besides, using my name might actually bring you some luck—consider it free publicity. Surely you can see that, right?"
"Old Pao, I’m giving you face here. Whether you take it or not is up to you."
"Fine, I accept," Old Pao finally made up his mind.
He refused to believe that out of all the films he’d release year after year, not a single one could outperform Bullet.
Impossible!
Click.
Once Old Pao agreed, Cao Cheng didn’t bother with pleasantries and simply hung up.
Truth be told, Cao Cheng wasn’t out to crush him completely.
First, there was no need—they had no real beef.
Second, deep down, Cao Cheng actually had some respect for this generation of directors.
They might seem mediocre now, but once capital flooded the entertainment industry, these directors would prove they had real talent.
No comparison, no harm, right?
At least they put effort into their films. Even if their works were overly complex or not entirely commercial, they weren’t just cheap, slapdash productions.
As someone who’d seen the future, Cao Cheng knew exactly how capital would reshape the entertainment industry.
The so-called "fan economy" was just a case of bad money driving out good.
In simpler terms: things would only get worse.
All you’d need was a cast of pretty-faced idols or A-list stars, plus a massive marketing push, and the money would roll in. Who’d bother telling a decent story then?
What’s worse, in the coming years, many films would spend more on promotion than on actual production.
A movie with a budget of 100 million? Fifty would go to the stars, thirty to marketing, and the remaining twenty might make it to production—assuming the producers had any conscience left.
In the future, films where marketing ate up 30% of the budget would be everywhere.
So would movies where the stars’ paychecks exceeded half the production costs.
Honestly, Cao Cheng was part of that capital machine too. He’d market his films—that was just business. But when marketing costs ballooned, it was a sure sign the movie itself was lacking. That inverse relationship was inevitable.
This kind of capital-driven model was nothing short of sabotaging the domestic film industry.
Compared to that, Cao Cheng "preferred" these old-school directors who still cared about storytelling.
Of course,
the main reason was that these veteran directors were famous, influential, and—most importantly—provided him with a steady stream of emotional energy when provoked.
...
After hanging up, Cao Cheng immediately fired off a public post.
"@OldPao... Since you’ve shown such sincerity, I’ll let it slide this time. You’re getting on in years, after all. But don’t expect this kind of mercy again. Remember your promise—if you lose next time, no amount of backdoor pleading will save you. Got it?"
"..."
"Damn, Old Pao folded in private?"
"Obviously. With Bullet projected to break a billion, how’s he supposed to compete?"
"Old Pao knows when to fold ’em. Smart move to bow out early."
"LMAO... Young Master Cao is ruthless. Airs their private chat just like that."
"Hahaha... Classic Cao Cheng move."
"@OldPao, Director Pao, care to share your thoughts right now?"
"What thoughts? He went private to keep it low-key. Bet he’s cursing up a storm at home."
The internet was loving it.
And they weren’t far off—Old Pao was cursing, though not at home. He was right beside Director Wang, fuming.
Negative emotions skyrocketed.
Director Wang had a headache. Seeing Old Pao like this reminded him of his own past rage-fueled clashes with Cao Cheng.
Ah, the good old days.
At least now he’d learned not to take the bait.
"Relax, count yourself lucky he didn’t make you publicly apologize. Just ignore the online chatter—it’ll blow over in a few days. Focus on your next project instead. That’s how you’ll save face."
"..."
Old Pao’s face burned with anger.
But after a moment, he realized Director Wang was right. No response, no engagement—people would forget soon enough.
Time to plan his comeback film.
...
...
[Ding~]
[Treasure chest openings have reached 30,000. System upgrading...]
[Please wait!]
[Countdown: Seven days!]
"Seriously?"
Cao Cheng bolted upright.
Ever since his emotional energy network went global, he’d stopped even thinking about system upgrades.
He thought it was over.
Thought he’d maxed out!
But now—
Out of nowhere?
He’d just been lounging around, waiting for dinner, idly opening low-tier chests (bronze and silver) for herbal ingredients.
Over the past year, he’d rarely touched divine chests unless they appeared naturally. Mostly stuck to diamonds, with the occasional gold—mostly iron and bronze.
And somehow,
he’d triggered an upgrade condition.
30,000 chests?
Had he really opened that many?
Now that he thought about it... yeah.
Iron, bronze, and silver chests were practically worthless.
For the past year, chasing X-Elixir formulas meant grinding low-tier chests nonstop.
A rough estimate? Easily over 30,000.
But...
"Where does the upgrade expand to this time?"
"The solar system? That’d be pointless."
"Come on, System, don’t pull an Apple on me. No lazy incremental upgrades."
"Even if there’s life elsewhere in the solar system, what good does that do me?"
"At least give me a smart mode. Let you talk or something."
"Can’t you just tell me the next upgrade condition?"
Cao Cheng couldn’t even muster the energy to complain properly.
The system was as dumb as ever.
Still,
an upgrade was an upgrade.
Better chests meant better loot—and eventually, a shot at immortality.
No downside.
It wasn’t like upgrades cost extra emotional energy anyway.
Just seven days. A blink of an eye. A few cups of tea, and it’d be over.
...
One cup—
Two cups—
Seven cups!
Seven days passed in a flash.
New Year’s came and went.
And the system upgrade completed.
[Upgrade successful!]
Hearing the chime, Cao Cheng didn’t rush to check like before. His expectations were low.
Past upgrades had taken longer—the bigger the change, the more time needed.
This one? Just seven days. What could possibly be worth it?
But then—
When the system interface materialized, Cao Cheng rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
"No way."
"This much change?"
"Holy shit!"
"This is a jackpot."
Wang Defa~~
The system has undergone a major… major overhaul.
The entire interface has changed.
Previously, it was a simple loot box layout with an additional fusion chest section.
After selecting, it would play an opening animation.
But now…
It’s different.
Everything’s changed.
It’s more like an online shopping mall.
Though it’s still loot boxes, there are way more options now.
And categories too.
For example: daily essentials, herbs, elixirs, technology, entertainment, software systems, artificial intelligence, medical equipment, and more!
The choices aren’t endless—no spaceships or anything like that—but it’s still a massive improvement over the random drops before.
Now you can pick a category before opening a chest, though the price per box has skyrocketed.
It costs 500 emotional points per open now!
...
"Fair!"
"Totally fair!"
Even though the price has jumped from 100 to 500 emotional points, meaning what used to buy five divine chests now only gets you one, the increase seems steep at first glance.
But…
On second thought, it’s not that simple.
Because now you can choose the category.
That saves Cao Cheng a ton of hassle.
No more useless junk clogging up his storage space, forcing him to toss or destroy it.
For example, if he picks the herb category now, every chest will contain herbs—maybe just low-tier iron-grade herbs, mid-tier bronze-grade, or high-tier silver-grade.
But at the end of the day, they’re all herbs, right?
No more shortages of raw materials for cosmetics.
So,
the price hike makes perfect sense.
Spending a bit more emotional points to guarantee exactly what he wants?
Totally worth it.
...
Cao Cheng glanced at his hundreds of thousands of emotional points.
Then he closed his eyes and started opening chests.
Time for a test run.
[Ding~]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened an Iron Chest, obtaining a bundle of Heavenly Spirit Grass (500 lbs per bundle).]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened an Iron Chest, obtaining a bundle of Dewdrop Grass (500 lbs per bundle).]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened an Iron Chest, obtaining a bundle of Ghost Orchid Grass (500 lbs per bundle).]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened a Bronze Chest, obtaining a bundle of Celestial Blue Flowers (500 lbs per bundle).]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened a Bronze Chest, obtaining a bundle of Frostheart Blossoms (500 lbs per bundle).]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened a Silver Chest, obtaining a Sky Origin Fruit…]
[Congratulations, host! You’ve selected the ‘Herbs’ category and opened a Silver Chest, obtaining a Nine-Scented Wood…]
[Congratulations…]
"Nice, nice~~"
For the first time in a while, Cao Cheng felt genuine excitement.
After getting jaded from opening divine chests, he hadn’t felt this thrill in ages.
But now,
with the system upgrade, that sense of novelty and anticipation was back in full force.
So many herbs—not just in quantity, but variety too.
No more shortages for the cosmetics business.
Especially the ‘fruitwood.’
That’s the key ingredient for Scent-Locking Pearls.
It used to be ridiculously rare.
So rare that Cao Cheng couldn’t even sell them—output was too low, reserved only as a luxury gift-box freebie.
The whole "rarity equals value" strategy.
But with the system upgrade? That’s all changing. Now he can sell them freely.
And this haul? Just a few hundred emotional points for all these goodies. A total steal.
Plus, beyond herbs, there are categories like elixirs, technology, and even AI!
Cao Cheng couldn’t help but think: this is the real deal now.
The old system? Just a beta test.
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
his freshman year, Su Bai accidentally bound the "Indulgence Tycoon System." 【Sleeping in? Reward: +$1,000】 【Spent $288 at a street barbecue stall? Cashback: +$2,880】 【Dropped $14,396 on in-game skins? Special reward unlocked: A brand-new Porsche Panamera!】 Luxury cars, penthouses, corporate shares, financial empires… College life was all about living freely and doing whatever he pleased! … When the adorably naive academic genius faced family medical bills and financial struggles, Su Bai waved his hand dismissively: "Your future is on me." "Wuwu~ Big Brother is so good to me! I’ll become a scientist to repay you!" When the genius girl got bullied by a shady professor? Su Bai casually dropped a billion-dollar investment, forcing the university to grovel and beg for her return. A company’s funding chain collapsing? Su Bai smirked—cash was the one thing he’d never run out of. Years later, when people traced the rise of the AI prodigy beauty, who was the man behind her success? Not just that—Su Bai also became the tsundere campus belle’s unattainable dream, the contrast senior’s daily necessity, and the beautiful counselor’s emotional anchor…
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
