Chapter 330

Sometimes, because one is too "normal," one simply cannot understand what those abnormal people are thinking.

Take this case—Bai Liang himself was left stunned by Wang Sicong's behavior.

After all, even Bai Liang, who isn't exactly normal himself, has never caused trouble for his family's business.

He even helped urinate on and kill the rival family's money tree~

But when recalling how Wang Sicong once sprayed his own family's hotel, it somehow feels perfectly reasonable.

That's just his style.

Reba laughed uncontrollably, rolling around on Bai Liang's lap while clutching her stomach.

"Oh my god, I can't take it anymore—what even is this? Feels like playing house."

"Playing house? I'm great at that. I'll play dad."

"Dad?" Reba froze, instinctively replying.

At moments like this, almost everyone reacts on instinct.

"Ahh~"

"You're so naughty! Don't take advantage like that—not yet, at least."

". Big Immortal, can you please hang up the phone before doing this shit?" Wang Sicong said on the other end, exasperated.

He just thought he heard kissing sounds—what a beast!

"Huh? You're still there? Next time, hang up on your own. Bye."

Wang Sicong:

Fuck, I was doing fine online roasting people, then this bastard Bai Liang had to call and shove dog food straight into my mouth.

Even though Wang Sicong was currently in a hotel with a female internet celebrity.

But when he glanced back at her and thought of Reba on Bai Liang's end,

the massive gap in quality made him feel a twinge of envy.

Fuck, how is this even possible! Who the hell is the billionaire's son anyway?

But in his view, dating a celebrity was too low a return on investment.

Wang Sicong was genuinely curious—how the hell did Bai Liang pull this off? He doesn't even seem to spend much money~

Bai Liang: Not just that—the room fee at the Junyue Hotel was paid by Reba.

——

As the buzz around the Golden Eagle Best Actor award continued to rise online, with no significant backlash emerging, Bai Liang's position as Best Actor was firmly secured.

His marketing accounts had real content to promote.

Even ignoring the bullshit "Weibo Best Actor" title, and setting aside films, focusing solely on TV dramas still wasn't entirely fair.

After all, he'd starred in things like "Wushen Zhao Zilong" and "Xianjian Yun Zhi Fan."

The former was a lead role, yet its rating wasn't much higher than Reba's "Pretty Li Huizhen."

Fortunately, his male lead dramas all had decent ratings—at least six points and up.

He'd never end up with a drama scoring three or four points getting nominated for the Golden Eagle Award, like Reba did.

This time, even though she only won a crystal cup, it still drew considerable criticism.

Fortunately, among her lead dramas was "Wei Wei," in which she delivered an excellent performance, winning fans and building a strong filter effect.

So despite the doubts, the backlash wasn't overwhelming.

Jiaxing, in a moment of impulsiveness, had just released a PR piece calling her "Crystal Cup Best Actress," then immediately pulled it after being roasted.

They did this mainly because Bai Liang's public opinion environment gave them a false illusion:

Why can Bai Liang do it but Reba can't?

Let's just try.

Try and you die.

Luckily, they pulled it fast, and since she wasn't a double-cup winner, the backlash didn't escalate further.

This move made Jiaxing deeply understand what "don't take on a porcelain job without a diamond drill" really meant.

If Reba and Bai Liang had switched places, the sky would've collapsed by now.

After realizing this, they turned their pressure onto Gu Man.

Write faster!

Use your evil hands to smash that sexy keyboard.

As for "Three Lives Three Worlds: Pillow Book," the project was completely shelved at Jiaxing—essentially never to be revived.

Unless, years from now, Bai Liang isn't as powerful as he is now, and everyone gathers to stir up old leftovers.

Originally, the buzz around the Golden Eagle Best Actor award would've slowly faded without major controversy or doubt.

After all, year-end was approaching, and everyone in the entertainment industry was preparing to hustle for their KPIs.

But coincidentally, "The Splendor of the Great Ming" reached its climax at this moment.

Zhu Di died.

The most intense scene in "The Splendor of the Great Ming" was unquestionably Zhu Di's death.

Through the triple strangulation of power, kinship, and historical fate, it completed a tragic memorial to the Yongle era.

In his final moments, Zhu Di forced himself upright three times: first reaching for his waist sword, second gripping a fragment of the Yongle Encyclopedia, third attempting to wipe blood from his lips.

The twelve-panel rosewood screen cast silhouettes of the Zhu family descendants: Zhu Gaochi's shadow distorted by obesity, the eunuch Wang Zhen's shadow circling like a vulture over the imperial power's fissure, Zhu Zhanji's sword reflecting cold light that sliced through his grandfather's face.

This scene also marked Zhu Zhanji's awakening to power—he instinctively dodged his grandfather's grasp when taking the broken sword, then suddenly gripped his wrist tightly the moment Zhu Di breathed his last.

The brilliance of this scene lay in how it transformed the emperor's death from a mere transition animation of power into a visible moment of historical violence's genetic imprint.

The Zhu family is about to start dying endlessly!

At the same time, as the plot unfolds, the character Zhu Zhanji, portrayed by Bai Liang, seems to be explaining to the audience:

What exactly is a Golden Eagle Best Actor? ~

When he uttered the line, "Endowed by Heaven, may it endure and flourish," it wasn't just Liang Guanhua, who played Zhu Gaochi onscreen, who froze in shock.

Even viewers watching the drama felt a chill crawl up their skin.

Close your eyes, and you'd swear you were holding the Imperial Seal yourself.

From this moment on, the entire drama plunged fully into its high-octane phase!

Earlier, Zhu Zhanji had mostly shown his spirited, carefree side—riding horses, shooting arrows, or sweet romance with Sun Ruowei, portrayed by Jing Tian; oh, and Hu Shanshang, portrayed by Deng Jiajia.

The overall pace remained light and brisk, with added entertainment from the Zhu family's "bickering" packages, making it quite enjoyable.

At most, only rare moments of shadowed glances reminded viewers this Crown Prince's Heir was no ordinary man.

But after Zhu Di's death, everything seemed to hit fast-forward.

Royal warmth and domestic squabbles vanished entirely, replaced only by a mad scramble for the throne and power.

From this moment on, the once spirited Crown Prince Heir became a graceful yet sickly caged beast.

The instant he donned the dragon robe, he finally transformed from a "man" into the supreme "symbol of power" of the feudal era!

This transformation happened at breakneck speed, yet felt utterly plausible to viewers.

What a pity for the romance here~

"I don't want to turn dark," Jing Tian pouted, declaring she wouldn't watch the rest of the plot.

Because the character she played, Sun Ruowei, was also turning into a wicked empress.

Still, she turned dark—but not entirely.

Because once Bai Liang's Zhu Zhanji died, the entire drama had only two episodes left.

As for Zhu Qizhen, the "Gate-Calling Emperor," his scenes were cut~

He merely appeared briefly, and then the drama ended.

It wasn't so much Zhu Qizhen's scenes being cut as it was the original "lead female" role of Sun Ruowei being slashed.

Bai Liang originally didn't want to take this drama because the script later included scenes like Sun Ruowei donning armor to fight in the Defense of Beijing, the Empress Dowager kneeling before her emperor son, and the Empress Dowager singing opera for her ministers.

As for other complaints, no need to elaborate—everything that needed cutting had been cut.

Only Jing Tian could have handled this; any other famous actress might have gone after Bai Liang with a knife.

Of course, this refers only to actresses capable of playing Sun Ruowei.

People like Zha and Reba wouldn't go after Bai Liang—they couldn't even play the role anyway. Besides, the drama hadn't even reached that point yet; it had just reached Zhu Zhanji's ascension.

Coincidentally, this mirrored reality perfectly.

As the drama's plot reached its climax, Bai Liang's fans also went wild.

Good good good—both onscreen and off, let's "ascend the throne" together!

At the same time, "The Splendor of the Great Ming" had now truly earned a shot at the title of Annual Blockbuster Drama.

But its biggest rival wasn't "Story of Yanxi Palace"—it seemed certain to surpass that drama.

The real troublemaker was "Know Me."

There was no way around it—"Know Me" had an absurdly long tail effect; it had finished airing long ago, yet its popularity remained sky-high.

Whether in online data or reruns on satellite channels, its viewership still outperformed many newly released dramas.

It felt like it had been dominating from the start of the year to the end.

What Bai Liang now needed to do was overthrow himself.

The male lead outshines the second male lead.

!

To fans, this seemed funny—fighting yourself? Really?

But Miss Jing Tian fully supported it, since she hadn't starred in "Know Me"~

For her, this might be the only chance in her life to "defeat" Zhao Liying in the television drama arena—it was quite meaningful indeed~

Moreover, this year was unquestionably the most satisfying of her career.

Both film and television blossomed!

Her film had already broken the box office record for domestic romantic films, and the TV drama, originally thought to be just a side project, now showed potential as this year's Drama King.

This demanded a full sprint!

From this perspective, Jing Tian cared about "The Splendor of the Great Ming" even more than Bai Liang did~

He finished acting and became a hands-off boss—just watched his own scenes, indulged in the satisfaction, and called it a day.

He didn't pay much attention to the drama's performance metrics.

But Jing Tian was different!

Question: Who is the most powerful female star in the entertainment industry this year?

Jing Tian: That's me~

"I'm going live! Come cheer me on~"

"Going live? Playing games?" When Bai Liang received Jing Tian's call, he was taken aback.

"Nope~ I can't play games. I'm going live to do my makeup, tying in with my cosmetics brand endorsement—it's a promotional activity, and also a chance to promote our drama."

Jing Tian had previously done live-streamed makeup removal, which worked quite well—even helping her gain new fans and solidify public goodwill.

After all, not every female star dares to show her bare face.

This time, the operation was similar—but reversed.

She appeared on camera with no makeup, said nothing, and first displayed her skin condition.

Fair and soft, she puffed out her cheeks cutely, looking just like a little glutinous rice ball.

Bai Liang also understood exactly how she used makeup livestreams to promote the drama.

Sun Ruowei's Three-White Pearl Makeup.

Bai Liang vaguely remembered this trend had just trended online, and never expected Miss Jing Tian would directly offer "hands-on" instruction.

When he entered the livestream, he found the viewer count was indeed substantial.

Douyin's livestream feature had only launched this year, yet it had swiftly seized a massive share of the livestream market.

Douyin, already the undisputed king of short videos, had such overwhelming traffic that the platform seemed capable of pushing anything to success with sheer volume.

This strategy was nearly identical to Tencent's next door.

It was clear Miss Jing Tian had genuinely put effort into studying the Three-White Pearl Makeup; after all that fuss, the result was impressively authentic.

Bai Liang found it quite entertaining and couldn't help wanting to tip her.

Sister Tian Tian had begged him so earnestly—he wasn't stingy, and today, experiencing the thrill of being the top tipper was perfectly fine.

Then she turned off the tipping function.

Miss Jing Tian: Thank you, loyal fans, for your small tips—it's really unnecessary~

"Turn on the tipping function. I want to be the top tipper."

"Huh? You're here? Why didn't you say anything?"

Big Tian Tian, who had just finished her makeup and was promoting "Great Ming Splendor" and her endorsed cosmetics brand to viewers, exclaimed in delight upon spotting Bai Liang.

"You were too focused on your makeup—you didn't even look at the screen. I've been chatting with your fans for ages."

Bai Liang wasn't lying—he'd entered Big Tian Tian's livestream using his main account, and the entrance was far from quiet.

There even seemed to be some flashy entrance effect.

Then all of Miss Jing Tian's fans started asking him questions like whether he was really dating her.

Fans, of course, care about nothing but this kind of thing.

But how could such questions ever get answers? Bai Liang either feigned silence or, when he saw one he could answer, picked a few words to reply.

"Talking like this is such a hassle."

At Miss Jing Tian's urging, Bai Liang simply did a livestream link-up with her.

"Huh? Why did you send me gifts?"

After Bai Liang started the livestream link-up with Big Tian Tian and then disabled the tipping function, he discovered that in less than a minute, she had sent him tens of thousands.

"You won't turn this function back on again, right?" Miss Jing Tian asked with a grin.

"Yeah~"

"Then I win—I spent a little money and now I'm your top tipper forever!"

Spent tens of thousands and claimed she won?

Bai Liang: Couldn't spend money, then got money handed to him by a rich woman.

His damn luck~

At this moment, both their teams were drenched in sweat.

Miss Jing Tian's side was fine—after all, it was a pre-arranged brand livestream event.

But Bai Liang's was pure impulse—he got lucky that today's cosmetics livestream didn't conflict with his endorsement.

Otherwise, they'd have had a joint endorsement scandal right away.

And as an artist of his scale, he'd done such a livestream with zero prior planning.

The consequences were obvious—in less than ten minutes, the livestream was flooded by a surge of people drawn by the news.

When these people discovered Bai Liang's livestream had vanished, they stormed en masse into Miss Jing Tian's livestream, demanding she "hand over the Immortal."

If Bai Liang suddenly appeared behind Miss Jing Tian at this moment, the dramatic effect would be explosive.

Because she was livestreaming from home, if he so much as showed his head, news of their cohabitation would instantly trend.

Fortunately, Bai Liang was ten thousand miles away from her.

Otherwise, even if he realized it himself, Miss Jing Tian might not—she might just jump up and go look for Bai Liang, if he were actually in her house.

A few more minutes passed, and Miss Jing Tian's livestream also disappeared.

Now it was Douyin's turn to be drenched in sweat.

Meanwhile, Weibo also posted a question mark.

Are you there, Immortal? Are you asleep, Immortal? Do you still love us, Immortal?

Just when you helped us purge rivals on Weibo, why did you go over to Douyin to boost traffic?

Isn't this also a kind of NTR?

Did Douyin do something too?

(End of Chapter)