Chapter 217: Women Need to Be Trained

May 15, "Superbody 1" wrapped filming.

The crew was bustling about, packing and loading equipment.

All extras had been dismissed.

Fang Hong looked at Liu Tianxian's face, close before him—smooth, fair, her expression gentle as water, her soft breath brushing his cheek, sweet and lovely.

This made him think of Feifei, and he leaned his face closer.

"What are you doing?" Liu Tianxian pulled back slightly.

"You have a mole." Fang Hong extended his finger and touched a black mole on her cheek.

"I know," Liu Tianxian said, puzzled.

"Moles are sexy," Fang Hong said.

"Be serious, there are so many people around."

Liu Tianxian slapped his hand away, her cheeks flushed, glancing at the crew around them.

If no one was around, she'd be perfectly fine with it; with people present, she felt too shy for affection—though chatting and laughing with them was still easy.

The crew had grown used to their antics and no longer found them strange; gossip about the two had spread everywhere.

Just by watching how they interacted, anyone could guess they were involved.

Just then, Chen Sicheng ran over, seeing their intimate mood and realizing he'd arrived at an awkward moment.

Still, he said: "Principal, Yifei, the crew's throwing a wrap party tonight—will you come?"

"Of course!"

Liu Tianxian answered without hesitation—she had nothing lined up anyway, and it was a good chance to build connections.

After this, she had no more roles lined up; after filming the second and third installments of "The Four Constables," Guangxian stopped calling her, and she had no interest in Hong Kong's film scene.

So she was essentially out of resources.

In her past life, she ended up filming odd Sino-foreign co-productions.

But in this life, a new path had opened! Fang Hong had no objections—he hadn't held a wrap party in ages, and this was the perfect chance.

That evening, the crew hosted the wrap party in a grand hotel banquet hall; the stage backdrop displayed white letters on a red field: "Superbody Wrap Party!"

"Yutu first held wrap parties at street food stalls; now we're in a luxury hotel. These past three years have been stormy—we're grateful for your company."

Fang Hong delivered his speech onstage.

Photographers were filming the scene for future propaganda material.

Below, round tables were packed with the behind-the-scenes elite team from the "Superbody" shoot.

"What's our slogan? Does anyone still remember?" Fang Hong asked again.

"Hua Yu, we call the shots!"

A messy but enthusiastic chorus of shouts and applause erupted from below.

The room was full; some knew the slogan, others didn't—people came and went, like Yu Xian, who had left.

The team had grown several times larger; when these new members joined, Fang Hong hadn't held a wrap party—it was his first in one or two years.

Xie Miao found the atmosphere hard to adjust to, but he had to adapt.

Lu Dabo didn't know the slogan until now, but he knew it now—because this was where he rose.

"Principal, awesome!"

He shouted toward the stage, then raised his glass high.

The behind-the-scenes staff following him raised their glasses too, shouting "Principal, awesome!" with intense excitement, as if fanatical.

There were so many behind-the-scenes staff, while the professionals were fewer; swept up by the momentum, the whole room erupted.

Over two hundred people in the banquet hall raised their glasses toward the stage.

Including Chen Sicheng, Wen Muye, Xie Miao, and others—all faces flushed, whether from alcohol or excitement, no one could tell.

Liu Tianxian stared intently at the man onstage, clapping her hands: "Today's joyful—let's drink this one!"

Fang Hong took the glass offered by the server: "Too small—bring big bowls!"

Totally badass.

"Principal's generosity!" Chen Sicheng clapped and shouted.

The atmosphere exploded; some even stood up in excitement.

Fang Hong took the large bowl of wine from the server again, raised it high: "We promised—we'll build this empire together!"

"Build this empire together!"

Everyone shouted.

Fang Hong glanced at the wine in the bowl, took a sip, realized the alcohol content was high and the portion too large—he'd overdone the show.

The server had no sense—didn't even switch to lower-proof liquor; he really needed someone who understood him! But he had to keep up the act.

"I'll drink with you."

Liu Tianxian also took a bowl up onstage: "Though my first film wasn't with you, I hope my last one is."

"Agreed!" Liu Yin shouted.

"Agreed."

Liu Tianxian downed her wine in one gulp, then flipped the bowl upside down—not a drop remained.

"Goddess's boldness!"

Lu Dabo was beside himself with excitement, tilted his head back, and drained his entire bowl.

His followers copied him exactly.

Others in the room, seeing how boldly Tianxian drank, also downed their wine in one gulp.

That first swallow left some people dazed.

Fang Hong saw how readily Liu Tianxian drank, and he immediately decided to join in—he couldn't let a woman outdrink him.

But Liu Tianxian took the wine bowl from his hand, poured half into her own, and raised it again: "Gan!"

"Gan!"

"."

The people in the banquet hall were swept up in excitement, thoroughly drunk.

Fang Hong turned to look at Liu Tianxian—his wife truly understood him; her bowl had far less wine. He tilted his head back and drained it in one gulp.

Then he held the bowl high and turned it upside down.

"Principal is awesome!" Chen Sicheng gave a thumbs-up.

"Principal is awesome!"

"."

Lu Dabo and others shouted loudly, their tongues now sluggish—they must've been completely drunk.

After what Liu Tianxian did, it's no wonder they got drunk.

After the commotion, Fang Hong felt dizzy; Liu Tianxian's face was slightly flushed, but she remained perfectly sober. They stepped down and sat back at their seats.

Their table still had others: Chen Sicheng, Wen Muye, Art Director Li Anran, Cinematographer Liu Yin, Best Special Effects Yao Qi—all core creatives.

Chen Sicheng went onstage to speak: "Though this is my first time filming with you, your energy has inspired me."

He spoke polite formalities—lacking Fang Hong's passion and charisma—but someone needed to lead the atmosphere.

The banquet was meant simply to ensure everyone ate well and drank well.

At the table, Fang Hong's face flushed red; after drinking, he became talkative and began chatting with those seated.

Everyone at the table knew him well.

Liu Tianxian asked a server for a bottle of milk, poured some into a cup, and handed it to Fang Hong: "Drink some milk—it helps sober up."

"I'm fine. Why drink milk?" Fang Hong clung to his pride—there were too many people watching.

Liu Tianxian narrowed her eyes, watching him dangerously.

"I'll drink."

Fang Hong instantly caved, took the milk, and took a sip.

Liu Tianxian's expression returned to normal; she smiled at everyone at the table.

"Principal, you have no idea how lucky you are—if my girlfriend treated me like this, I'd wake up laughing in my dreams," Liu Yin chuckled.

The others all laughed softly and nodded in agreement—they'd noticed Liu Tianxian's small gesture, how she cared for the Principal's well-being; it was genuinely heartwarming.

"Ah, women need disciplining—hit them a few times and they'll obey," Fang Hong blustered.

"Hahaha!"

Everyone at the table laughed.

Someone glanced at Liu Tianxian's face; seeing her expression calm, they said nothing, as if it were truly true.

People envied him—so beautiful, so obedient, so considerate—why couldn't they find someone like that?

"What are you talking about?" Chen Sicheng returned.

"The Principal says women need beating—they won't listen otherwise," Wen Muye said.

"Exactly. Don't give women an inch—they'll take a mile."

Chen Sicheng, a fellow believer, quickly added to Liu Tianxian: "Tianxian, I'm not talking about you—I'm talking about my wife."

"It's fine. I don't mind. Have fun," Liu Tianxian said.

She let Fang Hong bluster—it was just idle talk.

The group chatted merrily, the table talk revolving around men or women—lewd topics were common.

But with Liu Tianxian here, they only boasted, nothing more.

"Principal!"

Xie Miao approached from behind, bowing with a wine glass. Fang Hong turned—and heard him say: "I toast you. If you have any roles later, call me—I'm always available."

"You know what? I do have a project lined up—but it's not confirmed yet. If it fits, I'll have someone contact you."

Fang Hong picked up his wine glass, clinked it with Xie Miao's. Xie Miao's skills were solid—Yutu needed a martial arts star.

Wu Jing was also good, but he had his own plans.

"Thank you!"

Xie Miao's face lit up with excitement.

He then glanced at Liu Tianxian beside him, nodding deferentially. She nodded back.

He'd heard gossip on set—this woman was probably the future boss's wife! "Come on, let's drink together too," Chen Sicheng stood up and clinked glasses with him.

The others stood up and clinked with him too.

Everyone could tell who the Principal favored—any chance to collaborate, they'd take it.

Xie Miao drank one glass with each person, downing them all in one gulp—he had no choice; if you didn't drink, you were out of step.

Who'd ever think of someone who didn't fit in? Besides, this table? Even actors and stars with status weren't qualified to sit here—this was the Principal's inner circle.

Look: only Liu Tianxian was an actor at this table—even Song Jia, with her clout, didn't qualify.

The wrap party ended like this—everyone ate and drank their fill, then scattered: some called cabs, some hitched rides, some called drivers.

At the hotel entrance, Fang Hong walked unsteadily—but he hadn't drunk much; Liu Tianxian, needless to say, was perfectly sober.

She was scanning the roadside, waiting for her Assistant to pick her up.

Lu Dabo, noticing they hadn't left, stepped forward with good sense: "Principal, Immortal Sister, let me arrange a car to take you home!"

"Give me the keys to your BMW," Fang Hong extended his hand.

"What?!" Lu Dabo gasped.

"You stole my oil, I give you my BMW," Fang Hong said.

"But, but you drank alcohol—you're driving drunk! What if my car gets impounded?" Lu Dabo couldn't help but panic.

"No problem!"

Fang Hong waved his hand gracefully: "If your car gets impounded, I'll give you my Porsche."

Liu Tianxian, who had been fine until now, sighed and tapped his head. Drunk like this and still flirting with people—what a lunatic!

"Don't listen to him—he's just drunk and babbling. Go ahead, leave. Don't worry about us," she told Lu Dabo.

"Oh!"

Lu Dabo thought this deal wasn't bad at all—it was a steal. His BMW was worth so little; the Porsche was far more expensive.

He took a few steps, then turned back: "Goddess, I think it wouldn't be bad if the Principal drove my car."

"Are you drunk too?"

Liu Tianxian's face hardened.

Fang Hong didn't even own a Porsche—it was her car. Besides, in this state, she'd never let him drive.

They already had someone coming to pick them up.

Seeing Liu Tianxian's stern expression, Lu Dabo dared not say more, feeling deeply disappointed.

Fang Hong smiled—he'd just been bragging off the cuff.

At that moment, a business car pulled up before them. Liu Tianxian helped Fang Hong into the vehicle first.

She looked back at Lu Dabo, still standing there: "Don't overthink it."

She got in too, and the door closed automatically.

Still thinking about the Porsche? Didn't you even ask if your boss even owns one?

One dares to boast, the other dares to believe.

Lu Dabo watched the business car drive away, sighing heavily. Such a good chance to upgrade his car was gone.

The Principal became cute, Tianxian became hateful! Before, the Principal was hateful and Tianxian was cute.

(End of Chapter)