Young Master Cao: Adding Some Letters on Stockings

What does it mean to flatter the high and trample the low?

The entertainment industry will give you a live demonstration.

After Wang Haodong and Zhuo Gou's studio released the video, public opinion took a sharp turn.

Within less than an hour, over thirty well-known celebrities posted messages online, voicing their support for Yin Xiaotian and his fight for justice.

They also criticized the production team and the members of the so-called "Backstabbing Sect."

If Yin Xiaotian was once considered a faded star—one of the "Four Great Young Actors" with little recent success—

now, he is seen as someone with limitless potential.

Every film, TV series, or variety show invested in by Miracle Media has been a hit.

Moreover, Miracle Media's influence in the industry continues to grow.

In its early days, the company only invested in one variety show and one film or drama per year.

But now?

Take a look at the hottest scripts, music programs, song competitions, and variety shows—many of them have Miracle Media's backing.

In other words, Miracle Media's involvement in the entertainment industry is expanding rapidly.

And its dominance is only getting stronger.

...

The Backstabbing Sect retreated, deleting their posts and issuing apologies.

Their fans followed suit, tucking their heads in like turtles.

A few stubborn ones insisted they weren’t wrong, claiming they had been misled—that they only wanted to stand up for justice but were manipulated by deceitful people.

But no matter what they said,

it no longer had anything to do with Young Master Cao. He had already harvested a considerable amount of emotional energy, and the supply would keep flowing.

Even years later, people would still talk about the Backstabbing Sect.

So,

Cao Cheng never intended to crush these Backstabbing Sect members in one go.

There was no need.

Destroying them wouldn’t be hard—they were already problematic.

But doing so would only yield a one-time surge of emotional energy.

It’s the difference between a single feast and a lifetime of meals.

Think about it—

these Backstabbing Sect members,

like Li Chen, the guy who loves gifting cheap stones to woo women,

or Li Xiaolu, infamous for her "hair-washing scandal"...

Looking back, none of them were particularly virtuous.

So, whenever they mess up in the future, this incident will be brought up again.

People will praise Miracle Media for its foresight.

They’ll hail Young Master Cao as a visionary.

A steady stream of emotional energy—isn’t that beautiful?

Even if individual celebrities don’t generate much,

every little bit counts.

The more "granaries" like this, the better.

Right now, there are still plenty of small granaries locked away in prison.

Individually, they’re insignificant, but combined, they produce a staggering amount of emotional energy.

Like countless tiny streams merging into an ocean—an endless supply.

So,

Young Master Cao’s strategy is simple: when there’s no major emotional payoff, focus on creating small, sustainable granaries.

Slow and steady wins the race.

...

But the real daily windfall of emotional energy for Young Master Cao?

Beyond the entertainment industry,

the biggest source is cosmetics.

Before cosmetics, entertainment was the undisputed king—films, variety shows, games, all major contributors.

But once cosmetics entered the market and dominated globally, overtly and covertly controlled by Cao Cheng, emotional energy surged exponentially.

Users feel joy—positive emotions.

Buyers feel the pinch—negative emotions.

Factories work tirelessly, barely scraping by on thin profits while producing for Miracle Media. Every drop of sweat on their brows translates to emotional energy.

Even international brands fight tooth and nail for a sliver of market share, sending envoys to Zhonghai to beg Xu Qing for more supply.

If they misbehave? Xu Qing can cut them off without hesitation.

That’s the power of holding a revolutionary, unbeatable product.

Some have tried to replicate the X Serum.

But after years of effort, no breakthrough. Something’s always missing.

Even when the data looks nearly identical, the results are worlds apart.

It’s as if the serum contains ingredients that don’t exist in this world—nothing can replace them.

And that’s what drives competitors mad.

This is why international partners have no choice but to bow down, not daring to defy Miracle Cosmetics.

Plus, the profit margins in beauty are insane.

Watching Miracle rake in fortunes daily, envy festers—especially among competitors who know exactly how lucrative it is.

Take that overpriced "holy water" from a certain trash brand—retails for hundreds, costs six-fifty to produce. Yes, six-fifty.

Add marketing, labor, store costs, and it’s still only a little over a hundred.

More profitable than drugs.

...

As for boycotting or banning Miracle Cosmetics? Impossible.

Ban it?

How?

A masterstroke of strategy has already made it indispensable to elites worldwide.

Not just princesses and noblewomen, but also female politicians, businesswomen, celebrities, and more...

Cao Cheng didn’t spend a single dime yet managed to get international peers to "willingly" help him break through the barriers of opportunity.

Now, with his path wide open,

if anyone dared to suppress this, the local capital would revolt first.

……

……

In the blink of an eye, it was July—summer vacation.

Zhao Jinmai and Zhang Zifeng, now on break, reunited.

Though they had been provided housing in Zhonghai, Zhang Zifeng still attended school in Beijing—her mother’s lingering resentment... or rather, her mother’s wish.

Her mother seemed convinced that Beijing, as the imperial capital and the nation’s most prosperous hub, offered far more opportunities than anywhere else.

So she refused to let her daughter study elsewhere, not even giving Zhonghai a second glance.

Well.

To each their own. Cao Cheng wouldn’t force the issue.

He had already told them: they could study wherever they wanted, but during summer and winter breaks, they had to return to the company for structured training.

Whether it was acting, voice work, or gaining experience on set—everything had to follow the company’s arrangements.

And so,

by July, the two girls were back in Zhonghai, diving into their studies.

Soon, they’d be assigned to film sets.

That same July,

something else happened.

A song from South Korea (or as some might derisively call it, "Little West Eight") blew up—not just domestically, but across the entire country and even globally, sparking a worldwide dance craze.

The song’s name? Gangnam Style!

Watching the viral "horse-riding dance" from his memories, Cao Cheng felt a wave of déjà vu.

And honestly,

you had to admit—for its time, South Korea’s entertainment industry was undeniably advanced, churning out real talent.

But it also proved something the older revolutionaries had always said:

When people unite as one, focus their minds, pool their strength, and work toward a single goal... they become unstoppable, capable of slaying gods and buddhas alike.

Forget everything else—just look at South Korea’s population.

A few tens of millions, right?

A country built on what might as well be a military base the size of a pinprick.

Yet with so few people and so little land, their entertainment industry—directly and indirectly—employed millions.

That’s one-tenth of their entire population.

And the number of entertainers? Even more staggering—one in every fifty people was an artist.

That’s what you call cohesion.

Even if you were just raising scorpions in a pit, you’d eventually breed some damn impressive ones.

So,

Cao Cheng had to concede—their entertainment industry really had something going for it.

Sigh.

Unlike their own country, which insisted on being the best at everything, tackling every industry at once. As a nation of diverse strengths, they naturally lagged behind smaller, hyper-specialized regions in certain fields.

That was just reality.

But then again,

who was Cao Cheng?

Would he just let them have their way?

Cao Cheng existed to fill the gaps.

Not because he thought himself invincible, but because if fate had given him this chance, he had to plan ahead.

Take shows like Empresses in the Palace, for example.

This year was destined for a "Empresses fever."

And no, not the same kind of "fever" as the one from Japan—let’s not get it twisted.

This meant Empresses would explode overseas, with licensing deals flying off the shelves.

Even places like Taiwan and South Korea would coin a new term: "Mainland Wave!"

The more of these shows they produced, the better.

……

"What kind of song is this?"

Eldest Sister walked in, saw Cao Cheng playing the music video on TV, and immediately made a face like she’d smelled something foul.

The song was catchy, sure—

but to someone as "old-school" as her, it might as well have been noise.

In this household, Eldest Sister was the most traditional.

Even more so than Ren’s mother.

"Gangnam."

"Gangnam? Wasn’t that sung by... what’s-his-name? I’ve heard it before..." Eldest Sister frowned.

"Not our Jiangnan. This is Gangnam—the district in South Korea. The song’s called Gangnam Style."

"......"

Eldest Sister’s expression twisted in discomfort. "Why are you listening to this?"

Cao Cheng grinned. "Hey, Eldest Sister—come here, sit."

Reluctantly, she perched on the edge of the couch.

Cao Cheng smirked. "Wanna make a bet?"

Eldest Sister immediately moved to stand up.

No way in hell.

"Hey, hey, hey—"

Cao Cheng grabbed her wrist, laughing helplessly. "Alright, alright, no bet. Just hear me out."

Eldest Sister huffed but settled back, side-eyeing him. "Go on."

"This song? I guarantee it’ll go viral. You believe me?"

"This song?" Her delicate features scrunched up as she glanced at the video.

Oppan Gangnam Style!

Cao Cheng raised an eyebrow. "Remember The Dizziness from a few years back? That was a meme song. In this world, it’s not the geniuses or the crazies you gotta worry about—it’s the mediocre."

"So, you either go all-out amazing or all-out bizarre."

Eldest Sister pondered this. It made sense.

Cao Cheng continued his sales pitch: "That’s why our family’s business should either aim for the ultra-high-end or the ultra-talked-about. Like these stockings of yours, Eldest Sister."

He pointed at the sheer, near-black stockings beneath her work skirt.

She looked down.

"These are probably 3D, right? Thin, suits you, looks nice—but... they’re boring."

Cao Cheng raised his eyebrows and said, "I won’t deny it—thinner craftsmanship might be better, but it’s still mediocre."

"You see this type everywhere, with only slight differences in color at best."

"The more 'edgy' ones just have a few rips here or a mesh there, relying on cheap gimmicks to stand out."

Eldest Sister shook her head. "I get what you mean, but isn’t that how it is everywhere? You call it mediocre, yet people still wear it all the time."

Cao Cheng chuckled. "That’s them. But if we’re doing it, we’d make something truly unique—like adding some bold lettering."

"???"