Gun, You Gotta Be More Careful

Young Master Cao was a logic fiend. He would meticulously dissect every word and sentence, using the flaws in others' arguments to tear them apart—and his opponents truly had no way to counter him.

And when you thought about it, he wasn’t wrong.

If the movie script wasn’t good, would Cao Cheng invest in it?

Of course not.

Though Young Master Cao was wealthy, his investments over the years rarely lost money.

So, by wielding this logic like a weapon, he not only left Bald Xu speechless but also subtly convinced both sides’ fans that Mr. Wo and Goodbye Mr. Loser were undoubtedly better than Lost in Hong Kong.

Even the die-hard fans of Bald Xu’s Lost in series found their subconscious opinions shifting.

After all, they had also criticized the decision to replace Baoqiang with Bale… a clear misstep.

In an instant, public opinion swung firmly in Cao Cheng’s favor.

Bald Xu stayed silent, but rumors spread that he had smashed up his office in a fit of rage.

……

Bald Xu remained quiet, seemingly strategizing his next move.

Meanwhile, Cao Cheng didn’t let up—though not by continuing to spar with Bald Xu. Instead, he pulled strings to get Shen Teng and the main cast onto variety shows to promote their film.

Thanks to Cao Cheng’s efforts, Shen Teng and the others, though not yet household names, gained enough recognition to appear on programs.

Mostly, it was Cao Cheng’s influence at work.

They even landed a spot on Happy Camp.

……

On another front,

Director Feng Xiaogang wasn’t idle either.

His new film, Mr. Six, had been in production since last year and only wrapped in March.

Typical of veteran directors—obsessing over a handful of scenes, tweaking them endlessly until they oozed artistic perfection.

Nothing like Goodbye Mr. Loser, which, despite its numerous scenes and cast, wrapped in three months with time to spare.

Now, Mr. Six was fully edited and had cleared censorship—albeit with some hurdles. Thanks to industry connections, a few tweaks got it approved.

Feng planned a December release, targeting the Lunar New Year slot.

But that didn’t stop him from riding the wave of controversy, especially since Young Master Cao had dragged him into it.

Feng was the type of director who loved stirring the pot for publicity, and he wasn’t about to miss this chance.

In his eyes, the backlash wouldn’t touch him.

Instead, he’d carve out a slice of Cao Cheng’s spotlight to boost his own hype.

After all, Cao Cheng had clashed with him before.

Though the bet between them had kept things civil these past few years… what harm was there in hitching a ride on the drama?

Only a fool would pass up free publicity.

So,

Soon enough, Feng chimed in with his two cents:

"A no-name film can only go so far, no matter how well-acted… especially with a rookie cast. I’m a fair man—I side with reason, not favoritism. So, I think Lost in Hong Kong will hold up, just like my upcoming Mr. Six—both are films with depth."

"As for Goodbye Mr. Loser, I haven’t seen it, but the label says it’s a comedy. With newcomers in comedy… there’s always something missing. Lack of experience, you know?"

"Take Huang Bo’s Crazy Stone or Old Xu’s One Night in Supermarket—both comedies, but since they were new back then… the box office numbers fell short."

"Still, it’s their first try. Any earnings are acceptable."

"I do hope to see more talent and comedians in our industry. Uncle Ge isn’t getting any younger—we need successors."

"……"

The old-timer started blabbering, promoting his own movie.

It made Cao Cheng laugh.

This old geezer, damn, really jumps at any opportunity.

Perfect. If you hadn’t stuck your neck out, I’d have felt bad picking on you—after all, there’s a bet involved.

Young Master Cao is a man of principles, but if someone breaks the rules first, then Cao Cheng has no limits.

Meanwhile, as the old-timer began his rant,

there was another movie called The Third Love, backed by both domestic and foreign investors—a Sino-foreign co-production.

It was a collaboration with the little Koreans.

The female lead was the "Fairy Sister"...

This girl’s got thick skin—flopping for years and still not dead. If she ditched movies for TV dramas, she’d bounce back in no time.

So, in Cao Cheng’s eyes, this girl just wasn’t cut out for films. If she’d stuck to TV, she’d have been the undisputed queen of the small screen by now.

Too bad…

She ruined herself.

Wasted most of her time on movies.

She’s like Jing Tian from his dreams—unsalvageable. No big star could carry her. Remember those two big co-productions? Li Lianjie and Cheng Long both starred alongside her, and the global box office barely hit $100 million.

What a disaster!

Then there was another one with Zhen Zidan, Gong Li, and Li Lianjie—global box office under $70 million.

Even worse.

And that was five years later, with over half the revenue coming from her delusional domestic fans.

As for The Third Love, Cao Cheng had no memory of it and didn’t know its final box office numbers.

But he could guess—if it had been a hit, he’d have heard about it.

So,

this movie was definitely trash.

And it was released around the same time as Lost in Hong Kong, Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe, and Goodbye Mr. Loser.

If she didn’t flop, who would?

Sure, Young Master Cao had a field day trashing Lost in Hong Kong as garbage and calling Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe mediocre, but at least those movies made bank.

So,

when the investors of The Third Love fired back at Cao Cheng—

since he’d previously declared all movies released on September 25th as trash, indirectly including theirs—

they naturally retaliated.

The investors of The Third Love spoke up.

Even Fairy Sister’s studio issued a statement.

They were relatively polite, just demanding an apology from Cao Cheng.

His blanket criticism had indeed pissed off a lot of people.

Now everyone was furious, especially Fairy Sister’s fans and the domestic fangirls of the male lead, the little Korean Song Chengxian.

The backlash even reached Korea, where netizens piled on Cao Cheng, condemning him online.

Things blew up overnight.

It became an international incident...

Which only made Cao Cheng laugh.

So much emotional outrage—

Perfect, just perfect!

"Damn, their country’s small, but their temper’s huge..."

"This is great."

Cao Cheng was genuinely amused.

Who knew there’d be a hidden boss here?

Sure, The Third Love was trash, but its stars were legitimately popular.

The female lead was Fairy Sister.

The male lead was Korea’s Song Chengxian—

a pretty big name.

And now, with fans from both countries going at each other, the whole thing escalated.

It even got hotter than Cao Cheng’s feud with Bald Xu.

A true hidden boss...

So, tell me—shouldn’t I step on you to climb higher?

Cao Cheng replied, "Apologize? What do I have to apologize for? Was I wrong to call you trash? What kind of crap films dare to leech off us... First there's Bald Xu, then Little Cannon, and in between, there's me, Young Master Cao. Forget it, I don’t want to bully you. Just don’t try to ride my coattails, and don’t expect me to give you free publicity. Stay quiet and wait to be buried. I can’t even be bothered to respond, lest you get another cheap boost from me."

His words were infuriating.

The investors, actor studios, and even fans of The Third Love immediately exploded in outrage.

But Cao Cheng ignored them.

After all, they were just trying to piggyback on the hype. If they actually succeeded and their box office jumped by tens of millions, it’d be downright disgusting.

Better to focus on dealing with Little Cannon instead.

Cao Cheng turned his attention back to Little Cannon, engaging directly.

Cao Cheng said, "You’re yapping again? Haven’t brushed your teeth lately? What’s it got to do with you? Your movie isn’t even coming out till December, and you’re already trying to leech off the National Day hype? You’re jumping the gun."

"Let me tell you, at your age, shouldn’t you just lay low? Have you forgotten our bet? All these years... what have you even made? Have you been working hard? Making any real money? I don’t even want to lecture you, Cannon. Get a grip."

"..."

Their previous bet was that if, within six years, Little Cannon could produce even one film that outgrossed Let the Bullets Fly, he’d win.

But now, with the deadline looming, Little Cannon had fallen short—not a single one of his films had cracked a billion.

Little Cannon thought his latest project might finally break the curse.

Naturally, he started making noise.

But Cao Cheng, true to form, showed him no mercy.

Damn it.

And now he was even mocking his teeth again.

That bastard.

Little Cannon wanted to fire back, but his wife, Old Xu, stopped him.

Old Xu had just one question: "Why would you provoke him? We’ve finally had a few peaceful years—are you itching for trouble again?"

That shut Little Cannon down hard.

Looking back, it was true—he’d never come out on top before, and he’d almost ended up running naked around the moat.

If he hadn’t backed down and agreed to a new bet, his reputation would’ve been ruined.

Years without trading insults had made him forget the pain.

Still.

Little Cannon had won plenty of awards over the years. Even if his films didn’t make money, his prestige had grown.

He wasn’t about to back down.

Holding back his temper, he finally posted: "Let’s not even get into the past. But my new film, Mr. Six, will definitely outgross your Goodbye Mr. Loser—I’m talking worldwide box office. I’m putting it out there right now: if your movie makes more than mine, I’ll avoid you on sight from now on."

That was practically surrender.

But not without squeezing in one last plug.

Classic Little Cannon—never missing a chance to profit.

Cao Cheng fired back instantly: "Cannon, cut the nonsense. ‘Avoid me on sight’? Let’s be real—you won’t even get the chance to see me. Besides, our original bet isn’t even settled yet. How are you gonna avoid me? Let me make this clear: not only Goodbye Mr. Loser, but I’ve got another film coming in December. If you outgross either of them, you win the bet. If not, you lose—and you owe me a public apology over drinks."

Little Cannon’s eyes lit up at that.

But just as his fingers hovered over the keyboard, Old Xu stopped him.

"Wait, hold on a second. Think carefully—has this guy ever really suffered a loss since he became famous?"

"..."

Paor's expression shifted as he fell into thought.

Gradually, he lowered his hand.

After mulling it over… it was true.

If he won, the whole streaking incident would be water under the bridge—they’d call it even, and any future grudges would be settled separately. But the past grievances would be wiped clean.

But if he lost… not only would he have to praise Young Master Cao as the handsomest, most badass guy in the credits of all his future movies—those cringe-worthy lines alone—but he’d also have to throw an apology banquet.

That would be downright humiliating.