Chapter 258: Report

Dawn was just breaking when Xiang Fei rolled over in the temporary tent, his arm aching and numb. He had slept less than three hours the night before, but the noise of the disaster zone and the urgency in his heart kept him from resting further.

He rubbed his temples, pushed aside the thin blanket, and sat up. Outside the tent, the rain had stopped, but the muddy ground and damp air still felt oppressive.

"President Xiang, you're awake?" an employee of Feimin walked in holding a cup of hot water. "It was just boiled; be careful, it's hot."

Xiang Fei took the enamel mug. The warm steam hit his face, clearing his mind slightly. "Thanks. How is the situation now?"

"The rescue team has found several more villagers trapped and is organizing their evacuation," the employee reported. "Teacher Chen Daoming and Duan Long went to help before dawn."

Xiang Fei nodded, finished the hot water in one gulp, stood up, and put on a raincoat. "Let's go too."

At ten in the morning, a CCTV interview vehicle drove into the disaster zone.

"Dear viewers, this is one of the areas most severely affected in the Yangtze River basin..." the reporter held up a microphone, with a busy rescue scene behind him.

As the camera swept across, a man wearing work gloves and a dark blue raincoat was bending down to carry a child out of the rubble, his movements gentle yet firm.

The reporter did not notice that this figure, covered in mud, was none other than Xiang Fei, chairman of Feimin Entertainment.

At seven in the evening, the "Xinwen Lianbo" broadcast began on time.

In front of televisions in thousands of homes, viewers watched the disaster reports while eating dinner.

Suddenly, sharp-eyed viewers noticed something—

"Old Zhang! Come look quickly! Isn't that Chen Daoming?"

On the screen, Chen Daoming was carrying wood with several soldiers to build a temporary bridge, his face smeared with mud and water.

"Heavens! Why is Duan Long here too?"

The camera turned; Duan Long was carrying an elderly person out of deep water, his army-green raincoat soaked through.

"Isn't that Wang Zhiwen? And Li Youbin!"

In the corner of the screen, Wang Zhiwen and Li Youbin were working together to move a broken beam, rescuing a crying little girl.

Then, the camera swept over the temporary canteen—

"That's... Zhou Xun? Tao Hong? Are they cooking?!"

Zhou Xun had her sleeves rolled up, stir-frying at an earthen stove, while Tao Hong was busy packing meal boxes.

"Li Bingbing is carrying sandbags?!"

Li Bingbing, along with several female employees, was transporting flood-control sandbags, showing not a trace of delicacy on her face.

"Zhou Huimin! Zhou Huimin is carrying an injured elderly person!"

Zhou Huimin bent over, carefully carrying an old woman to the medical tent, her stray hairs wet with sweat.

"Where is Xiang Fei? Why can't we see Xiang Fei?"

Everyone widened their eyes and finally spotted a blurry silhouette in the opening wide shot of the news—

Xiang Fei was squatting by the rubble, one hand supporting a crying little girl and the other handing her half a steamed bun.

The next morning, all newspapers and weeklies—

"Breaking News! The entire roster of Feimin Entertainment appears in the disaster zone!"

"People's Daily" published a special report on page two: "Artistic Workers Fight on the Front Lines of Flood Control," accompanied by a photo of Chen Daoming carrying wood.

"Beijing Evening News" used a full page to publish a photo of Zhou Huimin carrying an elderly person, with the headline "The Most Beautiful Back View."

On the streets and in the alleys, people were discussing the matter:

"I never expected these big stars to lower themselves to help with disaster relief."

"I heard Xiang Fei led the team personally, and Feimin donated nearly one hundred million!"

"My second uncle is in the disaster zone; he said they eat and sleep with the victims..."

Three days later, a "Guangming Daily" reporter finally caught up with Xiang Fei on a dam.

"President Xiang, please talk about Feimin Entertainment's original intention for participating in the disaster relief?"

Xiang Fei wiped the mud from his hands and said simply, "It was the right thing to do."

The reporter pressed on, "How do you view the media's coverage of this event?"

Xiang Fei shook his head. "Don't report on us; pay more attention to the People's Liberation Army and the disaster victims."

Having spoken, he turned and joined the team carrying sandbags, leaving the reporter standing there.

Late at night, inside the temporary tent.

Zhou Huimin poured a cup of hot water for Xiang Fei. "Did reporters come to interview today?"

Xiang Fei took the enamel mug. "Yes. Let them write more about the true heroes."

He looked out at the pitch-black night sky. "Actually... it's good to be reported on."

Zhou Huimin looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Xiang Fei said softly, "This way, more people will pay attention to the disaster, and more companies will come to help."

In the morning mist, more rescue teams drove into the disaster zone.

After seeing the reports, many companies increased their donations; numerous artistic groups also organized themselves to go to the front lines to offer comfort.

Xiang Fei stood on the dam, watching the rising sun, and let out a long sigh of relief.

"Today, we should be able to save more people."