The soundproofing in Yu Qingxian’s office was decent; he hadn’t caught what they were arguing about initially. But once Ouyang Yuyuan opened the door, he’d heard. He’d planned to clarify if it was a misunderstanding, but Kang Zeyu lashed out without reason, killing any urge to explain.
The guy wasn’t much to look at, and his character and poise were trash—he didn’t deserve President Yu at all.
Chu Yi’s lips curved. Bent on infuriating him without consequence, he replied in a saccharine, barbed tone, “I’m at least young and obedient. I won’t anger President Yu—I’m a considerate Pretty Boy.”
Ouyang Yuyuan’s eyes widened.
“You—!” Kang Zeyu hadn’t expected a mere newbie to retort to his face; he nearly toppled over in rage.
Just then, Kang Zeyu’s phone rang. Something urgent seemed to have come up; he answered, listened for barely two sentences, and hurried off.
Ouyang Yuyuan belatedly gave a thumbs-up. “Damn, Yi Ge, that comeback… epic!”
In the inner room, Yu Qingxian had stood up but sat back down with a chuckle at how Chu Yi had cleverly driven the man away with minimal effort. The stifling frustration in his chest dissipated quite a bit.
Seeing Chu Yi enter, he cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth. “You’re here? Have a seat.”
After a thought, he added an explanation. “We argued over business. We’re not close personally.”
Chu Yi wasn’t sure how to respond and just uttered an “oh.”
That guy had reeked of jealousy all the way to South Heaven Gate—really not close? Whether it was truly so or President Yu was sparing him awkwardness, to avoid another heart-to-heart, he’d better pretend to believe it.
Yu Qingxian wasn’t sure why he’d offered that explanation, but afterward, he inexplicably anticipated Chu Yi’s reaction. Hearing the flat “oh,” he felt the explanation somewhat superfluous.
Fortunately, Ouyang Yuyuan then brought in the lawyers and others. They went through the contract details item by item; by the time they finished, two hours had passed.
Knowing the Special Affairs Office was pressing Chu Yi urgently, Yu Qingxian whisked him off to the lab right after signing. Dubbed a lab, it was actually the basement storage of one of his villas, retrofitted with large power generation equipment hauled in. The villa was far from neighbors, so noise wouldn’t bother anyone.
“There’s food and drinks prepared upstairs. Feel free to come up and rest if you’re tired.”
Ouyang Yuyuan raised his hand proudly. “I prepared it all!”
Yu Qingxian shot him a glance. “Alright, let’s go. Don’t disturb Chu Yi with his work.”
Ouyang Yuyuan felt a bit aggrieved. He’d wanted to stay and watch Yi Ge draw talismans; even Yu Qingxian was curious. But he’d heard other Xuan Arts Masters were taboo about such things, so he insisted on dragging Ouyang Yuyuan away.
Chu Yi watched their car drive off, shook his head, and headed to the basement.
While Chu Yi busied himself experimenting with the Purple Thunder Talisman, Xingyao moved swiftly. They officially announced his signing, tagging his agent Lin Hang and his prepped social media account.
[What’s this new guy’s background? His agent’s Lin Hang!]
[Nothing else to say—this guy’s front-facing pic is so handsome. Love it!]
[Why’s Little Handsome’s feed empty? Post more pics for us to ogle!]
[→ → What’s that about? Screen-licking?]
As the comments under the post brimmed with enthusiasm and great vibes, the long-silent small-timer actor Ying Lin suddenly posted.
[Ying Lin V: Sorry to disappoint my fans. Due to various reasons, the role of the young Prime Minister in the officially announced Da Qing Feng Yun will no longer be played by me. Very sorry I can’t meet your expectations.]
Ying Lin’s apology statement was standard fare, nothing off about it. But he chose to post it half an hour after Xingyao celebrated the new signing—and Chu Yi’s agent was the highly experienced Lin Hang.
More ambiguous voices emerged with “insider scoops,” claiming Ying Lin’s role had been snatched by an unknown newbie who’d climbed via underhanded means—everyone on the Da Qing Feng Yun crew knew.
[What? Lin Zi’s scenes had already started filming—fans visited the set last time. How’d it get snatched suddenly?]
[What acting chops could a newbie have, taking such a key role as the young Prime Minister? Don’t let Mo Song flop again!]
[Pure passerby here: Ying Lin’s acting isn’t that great either, right? His only hit Youth was an idol drama…]
[Xingyao just announced a new signing, and Ying Lin jumps out with an apology. Why’s it feel so off?]
[Off how? Xingyao clearly doesn’t treat Lin Zi like family. He suffered but won’t say it straight. Mark my words: if a skilled actor took Lin Zi’s role, fine. But if it’s some random newbie, us Dragon Scales will protest at the set with banners!]
[Filming’s underway and they still snatch food from the tiger’s mouth? Too low-class. Must’ve slept their way up.]
Ying Lin watched public opinion shift as he’d hoped, excitement curling his lips.
President Yu had halted all his work, even canceling nearly sealed endorsements—clearly targeting him over the Raising Little Ghost incident.
With no way out, he’d either leverage the hype to force Xingyao to restore his role or offer other work as appeasement, or stir up buzz to jump ship with minimized backlash from frequent switches.
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