Chapter 437: Forced to Be Slapped

While those people were discussing on one side, Zhang Hongsen and Fang Hong watched silently without interfering.

They also saw Fa Ge's emotional fluctuations.

During this time, Zhang Hongsen spoke little; he was merely a mediator, not a participant, and took no side.

It was like a parent mediating between children—his role naturally fit this function.

When Fang Hong's negotiations with them hit a deadlock, he would nudge things forward; when talks flowed smoothly, he listened to their past grievances.

In essence, it was all personal grudges.

The film market has always been competitive: the fit survive, the weak withdraw—that's all there is to it.

As they debated, a disagreement emerged; Fa Ge adamantly refused. Mu Yedong, desperate, said: "How much is your dignity worth? I'll pay you."

"General Manager Mu, this isn't about money. How old am I? How old is he? If I let him slap my face, won't I become a clown?" Fa Ge argued firmly.

He loved money, but he could earn it other ways—this method wounded his pride too deeply.

"Just help us out," Huang Baiming said lightly. "Zhang Ju is here—do you really think he'd dare hit you? It's just to let off steam. Who told you to keep insulting him in public?"

"Boss Huang, I'm not refusing to help, but do you even believe what you're saying? Does the Principal really care that much?" Fa Ge turned to his former boss.

He had once been an artist under Cinema City.

Fa Ge's success today came from Huang Baiming's promotion—including the Yuzhou Dan—and Huang held great prestige.

"Fine—if he really hits you, you can slap my old face instead, okay!" Huang Baiming slapped his own flabby cheek.

The Principal was arrogant, but he knew whom to treat with respect—he was courteous to Zhang Ju, sitting down when told to.

Fa Ge fell silent. His former boss and patron had spoken like this—it left him torn, morally conflicted.

"Fa Ge, just help us get past this. Consider it a debt we owe you," Wang Haifeng appealed emotionally—he and Fa Ge had always been close.

"Yes, we won't forget you. We once lifted you up—you owe us something back," Mu Yedong added, applying moral pressure.

Fa Ge sighed, looking at these familiar bosses who now pressured him—he felt cold inside, and trapped.

How had it come to this?

It was normal: capital cared only for profit. Why would they stand with him? The profit he generated was far less than the damage the Principal had caused.

But he couldn't offend these people—they were his patrons or those who had once helped him.

How could he refuse? How could he say no? They were all prominent figures, all with influence and status in Hong Kong.

Under their combined pressure, whether by reason or convention, he had no way to refuse.

It left him deflated.

"Principal, Fa Ge was wrong before—he apologizes to you. Please show mercy," Huang Baiming cut in, forcing Fa Ge forward and turning to Fang Hong.

"Can you speak for him?" Fang Hong asked.

"Principal, our past grudges are between just the two of us. You didn't need to drag everyone here to force me," Fa Ge tried to resist.

"I'm not forcing you. You can walk out that door right now—I won't stop you," Fang Hong said casually.

"Enough, Fa Ge. Admit your mistake," Wang Haifeng urged. Don't talk more—just apologize.

Under immense pressure, Fa Ge had no choice: "I was wrong before. I apologize to you."

"You say you were wrong? Is that your apology? Do you still think you're some elite citizen? Drop your arrogance," Fang Hong stood, walked slowly to Fa Ge, and stopped directly before him, staring.

They locked eyes. Fa Ge's face was blank—he still clung to his sense of superiority, refusing to bow before the Principal.

But finally, he bowed his head: "Sorry, Principal. It was all my fault. I apologize. Please forgive me—I'm just a petty man."

His pressure was immense—not just from the Principal, but from the capital surrounding him, all watching him.

Fang Hong raised one hand, high in the air.

Everyone nearby paled—was he really going to hit him? But no one intervened. Let him hit him.

Fa Ge's eyes narrowed, turning dangerous.

"Xiao Fang, that's enough. Don't go too far," Zhang Hongsen suddenly spoke, urging him to show restraint.

He's an elder, a senior figure. After apologizing, let it go. Give him some dignity. Don't push everything to the extreme.

Fang Hong said nothing. His hand rose high, then gently came down, tapping Fa Ge's cheek.

He hadn't struck him—but it was profoundly disrespectful. Fang Hong had his own justification: "You insulted me for so long. I just touched your face. Is that too much?"

Fa Ge's face flushed crimson, darkening with rage. He swallowed his fury, saying nothing.

It was slightly better than a slap—but not by much. It was humiliation. Disdain. A look down from above.

Who in the world had ever had their face slapped like this?

"Alright, apology done, slap done—can we consider this settled?" Huang Baiming relaxed beside them.

The others also relaxed. Fa Ge's humiliation? Irrelevant. No one empathized.

They cared only for their own interests.

"I didn't hit him. I only demanded justice. I only demanded an apology," Fang Hong denied having struck Fa Ge.

He had pushed someone to this point, yet acted as if he were the victim.

"Yes, yes, whatever you say," Huang Baiming didn't argue: "Then what about our matter?"

"I keep my word. I'll withdraw the lawsuit. I won't suppress your propaganda. From now on, we won't interfere with each other—though competition in the market will continue," Fang Hong clarified.

It wasn't that apologizing meant he'd go easy—no such thing.

"We understand your meaning," Huang Baiming said.

Get past this hurdle first. The rest can wait.

"Behave better from now on. If you come out biting again, you won't get such leniency," Fang Hong told Fa Ge.

They should be grateful this was the Film Bureau—if it weren't, he'd have slapped Fa Ge right then. Fa Ge stayed silent, chest heaving, clearly struggling to breathe. To call him a biter was to call him a dog.

But he could only endure it. His face had already been touched—what could he do? Fighting back would only reignite the conflict, and his humiliation would be wasted.

The others said nothing. After all, it wasn't their face being slapped—it didn't matter to them.

When this matter was settled, Fang Hong paid no further attention to the others and said to Zhang Hongsen, "Inspector Zhang, I'm leaving first."

"Go ahead."

Zhang Hongsen, seeing the matter resolved, made no effort to keep him.

He had no part in this—once he mediated and restored the original state, that was enough; as for their personal grudges, let them settle it themselves.

If they can't resolve it, it's because they lack ability—blame no one else.

After Fang Hong left, the room fell silent for a while; everyone looked at each other, none speaking.

Wang Haifeng noticed Fa Ge was still flushed and red-faced; he patted his shoulder reassuringly, signaling the matter was over, everything was fine.

"You may all leave now—this matter ends here," Zhang Hongsen dismissed them, not wanting to say more.

If you can't even handle something this small, you come bothering me?

"Thank you, Inspector Zhang," Huang Baiming expressed his gratitude.

Wang Jin was also pragmatic—he walked two steps to see them off—but the others didn't move.

Yet they didn't stay long; they left together, and Wang Haifeng said, "Tonight I'm treating—let's go to the club, Fa Ge, you're coming too."

"I won't go, you all go," Fa Ge declined, in no mood—mainly because the Principal had drained his spirit.

Anyone who encounters something like this will feel deeply aggrieved.

"Come on, it's nothing big—relax. Isn't this your favorite thing? Let's go karaoke," Wang Haifeng slung his arm around Fa Ge's shoulders and pulled him along.

He knew his good friend was upset; he'd just resolved a huge mess for them, treating them to a meal was only right—not much money.

The others chimed in too, their moods lifted, enjoying themselves, though no one quite understood why—they acted like the movie hadn't lost a cent.

When they stepped outside, Fang Hong had already left—he was going to pick up Liu Tianxian.

Lu Dabo hadn't left yet; he saw those Hong Kong people and Hong Kong capital climbing into luxury cars one by one, and followed them.

The Principal had told him to watch where those Hong Kong people went, to make sure they weren't plotting against him.

In truth, he was overthinking—perhaps they had the nerve in Hong Kong, but here, they had not a shred of courage.

In the past, the Xiang family came here acting arrogant—weren't they driven back, not daring to make a sound?

All they could do was throw threats behind their backs.

Fang Hong picked up Liu Tianxian, and then they went to a finely decorated hot pot restaurant.

At a round table, a steaming split pot bubbled; several women were there, placing ingredients while chatting.

With bell-like laughter, they were having a great time.

"Come on, come on—congratulations to Tianxian and the Principal on getting your marriage certificate!" Shuchang was lively, raising her glass high.

Everyone raised their glasses, gathering toward the center—*ding*—all their glasses clinked.

"Shouldn't the two of you drink a toast?" Zhang Jingying tapped the table with her chopsticks.

"He can't drink—he'll be driving later. I'll drink!" Liu Tianxian raised her glass and downed a full beer in one gulp.

Fang Hong watched helplessly as she swallowed the beer, let out a burp, and showed no sign of discomfort.

"That's the spirit! Yifei, I love your personality—bold and unpretentious," Zhang Jingying clapped.

The women were exuberant, making the men seem almost invisible.

Feng Ke, Zhang Jingying's boyfriend, saw the Principal, bowed slightly, and handed him a business card, flattery in his tone: "Principal, hello, I'm the CEO of Shaocheng Times. Here's my card—if you ever need cooperation, contact me. We can organize all kinds of celebrity events, including concerts."

He explained his services; after listening, Fang Hong took the card, glanced at it, and said, "Alright."

It was just lip service—who had time to cooperate with him?

Yu Tu had many artists, and many popular ones too; they could indeed hire this man to host celebrity meetups or concerts.

But Yu Tu had its own partners; they didn't need him, and he was destined to part from Zhang Jingying.

"Principal, if you ever need services, be sure to find us," Zhang Jingying affectionately linked arms with Feng Ke, leaning forward with a tipsy smile.

"Alright," Fang Hong nodded—still just lip service.

"Principal, thank you for the song you gave me—it brought me back to fame," Yao Beina raised her glass and drank it down in one gulp, feeling vindicated.

That song, "Little Luck," had greatly boosted her popularity, landed her many commercial appearances, and earned her a lot of money.

After all, the movie was a hit—the song rode its heat!

And netizens had rallied to her defense, specifically going to You Niao's Weibo to shame her, saying: "Without you, she still produces great work."

That incident happened last year—when Yao Beina joined The Voice; You Niao, to protect his own team members, treated Yao Beina unfairly.

The incident had made Yao Beina burst into tears on the spot.

So many netizens still felt deeply aggrieved—luckily, the Principal had helped lift her up.

"It was nothing. You're not well—you don't have to drink," Fang Hong signaled she could skip the alcohol.

"It's fine—I feel great," Yao Beina said.

Fang Hong then stopped urging her; let her do as she wished.

"Tonight, no work, no unpleasant talk—let's just have fun. After drinking, let's go karaoke."

(End of Chapter)