After all, you know how this circle is.

These well-known directors are still quite useful.

Because you can slip in some personal agendas in movies.

They’re one of the propaganda channels.

If you don’t seize this territory, others will.

So,

bringing these people into the club isn’t a big deal if they’re only at the ninth tier.

It’s not just folks like Pao’er—various sports stars are also needed.

Isn’t that how Old Leng plays the game?

These celebrities, directors, screenwriters… which one isn’t nurtured by the propaganda machine?

If not, it just means their influence isn’t big enough.

Otherwise…

Even Michael would have to toe the line.

The consequences of disobedience are severe.

As for whether these people will comply…

Cao Cheng isn’t worried at all.

As long as they have needs, they’ll fall in line—especially these veteran directors.

They’re all fifty and up.

Forget about Pao’er, who’s naturally flawed—others probably lost their vigor long ago.

Just whip up some rock-hard drugs, and they’ll be hooked.

You don’t even need to dangle life-extending goodies.

Easy control.

Take a look at Old Xu, Pao’er’s wife. Honestly, Xu Fan is in her forties but looks incredibly youthful…

No choice—she uses Miracle Cosmetics, and the grade is definitely high-end.

Living conditions are excellent.

Maintained like a young woman, her charm undiminished.

Still, she’s not Cao Cheng’s type.

Cao Cheng prefers fresher produce.

Ripe is fine.

But not overripe.

Otherwise, it’s too much.

“Pao’er…”

Cao Cheng smirked. “Seriously, can you even perform? Heard you’re done in two moves—my sister Xu might as well be a widow.”

“…” Xu Fan stifled a laugh nearby.

Pao’er flushed. “That’s slander.”

Cao Cheng shrugged. “Didn’t you film it yourself?”

Pao’er froze. “How did you get my rushes?”

Cao Cheng grinned mysteriously. “Don’t worry about that. Point is—want to regain your vigor?”

“That’s slander… huh?” Pao’er caught himself and shut up, then asked, “You have a solution?”

The moment he spoke,

Pao’er saw the mockery in Cao Cheng’s eyes.

Instantly, his mood soured.

Damn it.

This kid…

Cao Cheng chuckled. “I’ve got some products, no less effective than cosmetics and side-effect-free. Won’t make you a machine—age is a factor—but an hour shouldn’t be a problem.”

Pao’er lit up.

An hour?

That’s practically his prime.

No side effects either.

Pao’er pressed, “How much?”

“Do I look broke?” Cao Cheng shot back.

“Uh…” Pao’er knew this wouldn’t come cheap.

Grimly, he asked, “What do you want?”

“We’ll talk later. Wrong setting.” Cao Cheng strung him along.

Mainly because Bald Xu had arrived.

After greetings, the trio sat together for the first time.

To outsiders, these were heavyweights—even the main crew of tonight’s celebration didn’t dare intrude.

So naturally, a buffer zone formed around them. Minor actors and directors kept their distance.

Only agency bosses approached for a toast or small talk before leaving.

After all, these three had been at each other’s throats. Who knew if their civil chat hid barbs?

Smart people stay out of drama.

From afar,

Cao Cheng remained at the head.

He pointed at Pao’er, saying something that made the latter bow his head—seemingly conceding.

Then he turned to Bald Xu, unleashing a torrent of words that left him silent too.

Finally,

Bald Xu raised his glass to Cao Cheng and downed it in one go.

To observers, Cao Cheng—the youngest—held the highest status.

Makes sense.

Despite Bald Xu and Pao’er being directors, screenwriters, actors, producers, investors… their clout paled next to Cao Cheng’s.

Soon, word spread: Cao Cheng had berated Bald Xu and Pao’er.

Photos “leaked” too.

Reality was close—but the scolding was about content, not personal.

Tonight, Bald Xu finally learned why Cao Cheng had suppressed his screenings.

At first, it seemed like an overreaction. But as Cao Cheng laid out the data, Bald Xu grew uneasy.

He’d never considered this angle.

To him, it was just a movie.

Hell,

many directors filmed similar stuff. Cao Cheng himself had invested in a Thailand-shot film.

Why single him out?

Then Cao Cheng’s explanation highlighted the difference.

Not all movies are equal.

You don’t need to vilify a country, but at least portray reality—chaos as chaos, merit as merit.

There should be both good and bad.

How can a country have only the good without the bad?

Many viewers are mindless—if you don’t point it out, they’d never realize and assume the whole world is the same.

That’s not right.

When you’re out and about, you should always stay alert.

Even in the movie Cao Cheng invested in, the one filmed in Thailand in December, many dark truths were exposed.

They even deliberately added quite a few lines.

Not to smear intentionally, but just to give people a heads-up.

Of course,

Cao Cheng didn’t say too much—just dropped a few hints before shifting the conversation to men’s affairs.

Bald Xu is someone worth using.

Because he’s sharp.

Cao Cheng isn’t afraid of people being bad or cunning—he only fears stupidity.

And Bald Xu is clearly no fool.

Looking back from the future, Bald Xu managed to excel in both big-budget films and smaller projects.

Even amid constant scandals, he always came out unscathed—that’s the mark of a smart man.

Infidelity, drunkenly assaulting a female reporter, tax evasion, even pyramid schemes…

For any other celebrity, these would be career-ending, if not life-ruining.

But he handled them all.

Not that he was right.

But he was clever enough.

Plus, his connections weren’t bad either.

That’s why Cao Cheng didn’t mind sharing a few words with him. He didn’t need to spell things out—just a nudge was enough for Bald Xu to figure it out himself.

Besides,

Cao Cheng’s status also played a role. It wasn’t just about money—rumor had it he had high-level connections.

When certain things came from Cao Cheng’s mouth, people couldn’t help but take them seriously.

Not just Bald Xu—even Pao’er fell into deep thought for a moment.

Bald Xu raised his glass. “Thanks for the advice today, Boss Cao.”

Cao Cheng chuckled and lifted his own. “Just a casual remark.”

……

In the distance.

Amid the crowd, the “Fairy Sister” and her mom were also present.

They occasionally glanced over at the scene.

From afar, seeing Cao Cheng scolding the two like they were misbehaving grandsons, Qianqian's Mom muttered, “I thought it’d come to blows. Turns out these two are just spineless cowards—all bark online, no bite in real life. One’s influential in the Shanghai circle, the other in Beijing’s, and this is all they’ve got?”

“Shh—Mom, could you keep it down? Just watch the show, no commentary needed,” Qianqian sighed.

This mother of hers was getting harder to handle with age.

Qianqian's Mom insisted, “I’m not wrong, though. Hey, Qianqian, shouldn’t you go toast them too?”

“…”

Qianqian rolled her eyes. “What am I, exactly? The ones paying respects over there are all big shots. I’m just a small-time actress… forget it.”

“How are you ‘small-time’? So many bosses came to toast you earlier. If I hadn’t fended them off, you wouldn’t even be standing right now!”

“Mom, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Go on, silly girl. If any of these three cast you as their lead, it’d be a solid deal. Some opportunities you have to seize yourself. Go—”

……

Soon, the trio wrapped up their conversation.

They parted ways to mingle separately.

Cao Cheng didn’t need to socialize—his status was in another league. After a quick bathroom break, he prepared to leave.

Tonight’s gains weren’t bad.

He’d essentially secured two directors for his roster.

Even if it was just a collaboration, getting it done without spending a cent was a steal.

Just as he stepped out of the restroom.

After washing his hands, Cao Cheng turned and spotted a familiar face.

The girl’s gaze held a hint of resentment.

Understandable.

He’d dragged her name through the mud online, turning her into a “box office poison.”

Not that she hadn’t earned the label before.

But this time, the backlash was especially harsh.

The mockery was relentless.

Who knew she had so many haters?

“Well, if it isn’t Fairy Sister… here to confront me?” Cao Cheng grabbed a disposable towel, drying his hands with an amused smile.

Fairy Sister scoffed. “I’ve got no right to confront anyone. I’m no investor—just here on a mission.”

“A mission? From your ‘master’?” Cao Cheng feigned shock.

“…”

She shot him a glare.

She knew exactly what he meant.

Fairy Sister said coldly, “It’s my mom. She forced me to come introduce myself and beg for a role—to shake off the ‘box office poison’ rep. But don’t take it to heart. I’ll just tell her you blew me off.”

Straight to the point.

Seemed about right.

Despite her rocky reputation, her attitude was refreshingly blunt.

At least she wasn’t pretentious.

“Ah, so that’s it. See, you had me all confused with that ‘mission’ talk.” Cao Cheng shook his head, playing exasperated.

Fairy Sister smirked. “My fault, then?”

“Well, yeah. Can’t blame me, can you? I just walked out of the bathroom, totally unprepared, and you hit me with ‘mission.’ Naturally, my mind went places.”

He shrugged. “You know how this industry is.”

“…”

Fairy Sister laughed dryly. “Now I see why people say your mouth is infuriating.”

"Likewise, I heard you also enjoy roasting people, right?"

"Wouldn't dare. Who am I to roast a big shot like you?"

The back-and-forth banter continued for a few more exchanges.

Just like that, their relationship shifted from strangers to potential friends.

Especially since they turned out to be fellow townsmen.