Chapter 725

Seeing the situation turn strange, those at the table all turned their gazes toward the Principal and Su Mang's trio.

Jing Tian's beautiful eyes also fixed on the man, wondering what had happened.

Just now, when Su Mang communicated with Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian, his voice was low—after all, it wasn't something honorable, but a shameful matter.

Donating personal items must be bundled with fashion resources for sale; refuse to cooperate and you get negative publicity drafts; even taking a stage photo requires paying protection money.

This isn't charity—it's forced donation.

"I'm leaving first." Su Mang saw the Principal refused to follow their rules, couldn't bear the stares of so many, and slunk away in disgrace.

She couldn't possibly kick the Principal out—she lacked that power.

These rules only apply to minor celebrities; wealthy patrons pay just to indulge in celebrity novelty.

After all, the celebrities here all have fixed prices, and some even specialize in pimping to handle all the aftermath—why not take advantage?

As for charity, it's just a way to offset taxes.

Celebrities get to play, taxes get offset, the act of virtue gets performed, and their spirits are lifted.

But Fang Hong had no such needs.

"This is truly insane—where's the slightest trace of charity?" Fang Hong said.

"Alright, alright, don't be angry—we're here to do charity, do it and leave." Liu Tianxian patted his leg under the table.

She then picked up her wine glass, clinked it against his with a "ding," and both raised their glasses and drank.

The scene below remained chaotic; Su Mang still pressured celebrities to donate, and those who refused or donated too little were forced to kneel.

Xiao Wang Zong still pimped, openly listing celebrities' prices for wealthy patrons—even some minor stars had QR codes stuck to their chests so people could scan them to check "product details"!

It truly crushed celebrities' dignity underfoot—no exaggeration; calling it charity was really just a meat-cabinet transaction.

There was no way out—celebrities were always the easiest group to bully.

As the guests clinked glasses below, Lu Han and Tboys, among other traffic stars, took the stage to lip-sync a few songs to warm up the crowd.

Among them, Tboys sang "When You're Loved," changing the lyrics to: "Loved by the gold-daddy!"

Then Hua Shao took the stage and delivered a rapid-fire host script; after finishing, he pressed his earpiece—likely receiving instructions: "Ask more about relationships, less about charity—that's the buzz."

So Hua Shao turned to interact, directing his focus at Huang Jiaozhu, and into the mic he asked: "Xiaoming, tell me—is charity about accumulating blessings for your future children, right?"

This left Huang Jiaozhu embarrassed: "Do good deeds, and good fortune will naturally come."

They had been childless for a year, and media had repeatedly hyped rumors of infertility—they seized the chance to stir up more attention.

It was all just surreal and deeply repulsive; now, in this interactive environment, applause and laughter erupted thunderously—but not from genuine willingness.

"Have you conceived yet?" Jing Tian rested one hand on the table and asked the two across from her.

This was unexpected—others were watching the stage or observing their surroundings; Liu Tianxian leaned forward and whispered: "Yes."

"Then congratulations," Jing Tian smiled faintly.

So this man was normal—no illness at all.

"Thank you!" Liu Tianxian nodded with a smile.

She had once called Jing Tian on Fang Hong's phone and chatted for a while, but contact had suddenly stopped—likely because Jing Tian, seeing their official announcement, chose not to intrude.

She asked: "Have you found a boyfriend?"

"Not yet, but someone is pursuing me—I'm considering giving it a try, but still deciding." Jing Tian spoke plainly.

"Who?" Fang Hong frowned—could it be the ping-pong player? It shouldn't be him yet.

"He's an athlete. I met him at a gathering last year—he's quite nice." Jing Tian didn't hide it, though she didn't mention his name.

She feared people might misunderstand, since they hadn't officially started dating—only had the intention.

"Oh, you say athlete—I just remembered something." Fang Hong became unusually talkative.

They should've known each other since 2015, and next year they'd start dating—this period was their courtship phase; the timeline fit.

"What's that?" Jing Tian asked.

"There was another athlete—what was his name again? I forgot, but I remember meeting him at a friend's table; they were playing cards, and he lost a lot of money." Fang Hong spun the story effortlessly, tapping his head as if recalling—plausible enough.

Even Liu Tianxian was baffled—when had this man ever played cards with friends? She didn't remember.

They only played cards during the New Year at home; otherwise, rarely.

Even Jing Lu listened intently, worried the mistress might fall for a scoundrel.

"How much did he lose?" Jing Tian's rosy lips parted in surprise, her expression uneasy—could the Principal be describing the man pursuing her?

Surname Zhang, an athlete—close enough.

"How much did he lose? How would I know? I wouldn't ask how much money someone brought." Fang Hong spoke without blinking. "All I know is, after losing, he signed a promissory note for thirty million."

"What? Thirty million?" Jing Tian was stunned—every emotion showed on her face.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" Fang Hong looked puzzled at her.

"No problem, no problem." Jing Tian realized she'd overreacted, took a tactical sip of wine to calm herself.

She never imagined the man was like this—she didn't doubt for a second that the Principal was lying.

Mainly because of his status—he told it as a story, didn't connect it to the man she mentioned, so it felt highly credible.

"That guy even asked me to lend him money—you think I had money? I'm broke, right!" Fang Hong's last line was a tease aimed at Liu Tianxian.

Liu Tianxian shot him a dagger-like glance and leaned sideways: "What are you doing?"

Fang Hong winked at her, signaling her to hold off asking.

Jing Lu's mind raced, memorizing every word the Principal said—she'd report it all when she got home.

"That's right—you shouldn't have lent him money," Jing Tian agreed.

She had no connection to that man—why should she care? She hated gambling most of all, especially when it was this massive.

"Oh, by the way—what's the name of the guy pursuing you?" Fang Hong asked, as if just remembering.

"No one is pursuing me—I can't be so easily won over," Jing Tian stated firmly.

"Look at you, so beautiful and so adorable—don't shut your heart off; try to interact more with people. There are still plenty of good men in this world, like me, right?" Fang Hong looked at Liu Tianxian like a kind older brother.

"Pfft." Liu Tianxian rolled her eyes. "So shameless."

"I want to fall in love too!" Jing Tian mumbled.

While they were chatting here, the auction quickly began, and the venue erupted into noise, with bidding cries never stopping.

The first item auctioned was a diamond feather brooch donated by Huang Jiaozhu, sold for 800,000 to a certain WeChat merchant boss—this merchant was endorsed by Da Baobei.

This was likely a prearranged price swap for publicity capital—using a celebrity's value to promote.

As for how expensive this thing really was, Yiwu had piles of them; Zhang Shaohan had no backers, and a 700,000-yuan necklace failed to sell three times before finally being bought for 180,000.

"If you don't have a gold master, you'll get lowballed—that's why I won't let you auction your bracelet." Fang Hong said to Liu Tianxian.

If she auctioned her bracelet, it would also fail to sell, then get bought for 50,000, and the Publicity Draft would mock her—this is exactly how it goes.

Zhang Shaohan's publicity draft might already be out by now; poor Zhang Shaohan—came here for charity and got played like this.

Liu Tianxian knew this well, and looked at him: "Aren't you my gold master?"

"I'm your gold master?" Fang Hong pointed at himself.

"Of course you are—who else could be my gold master?" Liu Tianxian said.

"Oh my, I didn't realize—I'm at fault, my fault," Fang Hong said, embarrassed.

"It's fine, we're not giving them our money," Liu Tianxian said, looking carefree—each auctioned item took a cut.

Think about it: things worth a few yuan, even a few hundred, get auctioned for tens or hundreds of thousands—how much profit is in this? That's why Su Mang is so eager.

The auction continued; those without donated items pledged car fleets instead. Da Mimi pledged a 700,000-yuan fleet—ten cars at 70,000 each.

Then Lao Guo took the stage; he had a good tongue: "Everyone, donate if you can—don't be stingy with this little money."

This made all the stars below frown—everyone knew what kind of charity this really was.

"Alright, I'm donating thirty vehicles. Now it's your turn." As soon as Lao Guo said this.

No one clapped except Su Mang, who clapped wildly—thirty vehicles meant 2.1 million; how could she not be happy? This made money faster than anything else.

It was just awkward overall: those who wanted to donate knew the situation; those who didn't were being pressured.

For example, among entrepreneurs, Lao Cao donated a 10-million-yuan ambulance fleet; Lei Bus brought only 100 phones as gifts for guests, making Su Mang's face turn green—he didn't even pretend anymore.

Dong Dajie demanded public disclosure of donations, but Xiao Wang General Manager poured wine on her; they started arguing again, and the scene grew chaotic.

The Publicity Draft was immediately released: "Shrew causes disturbance."

The Publicity Draft mocked Lei Bus: "Pathetic!"

Remember, Lei Bus is still an investor in the Fashion Group—yet they didn't even respect their own investor.

The entire venue was chaos; no wonder there was no complete video of the 2016 Ba Sha Charity Bazaar Night—only clips survived. Even many self-media outlets didn't write about this year's gossip.

It was truly too nauseating—if it leaked out, it would truly shatter netizens' worldviews.

"Aren't we donating a car fleet?" Liu Tianxian asked.

"No," Fang Hong shook his head.

"We'll get criticized for occupying a spot without donating—called stingy," Liu Tianxian said, holding her phone; already many people had been mocked in Publicity Drafts.

Even they were criticized, called the Principal a "tightwad!" Not a single penny out!

They were also accused of putting on a show, just here to ride the trend. A crowd of ignorant Wangyi followed the backlash—so harsh it was unbearable.

"Wait!" Fang Hong finally understood why this event had later been fully blacklisted by capital and stars.

It was pure money-first, no regard for people. With his status as the entertainment circle's top dog, he at least deserved some face—yet the Publicity Drafts were still casually released.

This was pure, unbridled arrogance.

The many stars and capitalists in the venue were all scowling—anyone who hadn't donated was inevitably targeted.

As the event neared its end, Su Mang stood on stage and gave an impassioned speech:

"Thank you to all the stars, entrepreneurs, and artists here! Your dedication and love over the past fifteen years have turned Ba Sha Charity Bazaar Night from a small dream into a charity platform gathering hundreds of millions in donations! We've helped millions in need—this is the power of love, the power of charity!"

"In our country, there are still 592 impoverished counties. In many places, tens or even hundreds of thousands of people have only one ambulance! Some counties don't even have one ambulance meeting standard!"

"Imagine: a pregnant woman suffers massive hemorrhage, her family calls 120—but the ambulance is dozens of kilometers away, or there isn't one at all! A child suddenly falls ill, parents hold him on the roadside, begging for a ride, watching time slip away… Without an ambulance, many lives die waiting—tragedies that could have been avoided!"

In those places, the sound of an ambulance siren isn't a joke—it's a bloody reality…"

Su Mang spoke with fiery passion—successful people often are, like Jack Ma; Su Mang was just like that.

The audience below listened indifferently, as if not emotionally engaged—after all, if they didn't donate, those people would die anyway. But the real question was: how much of what they donated actually reached those who truly needed it?

"Charity isn't the job of a few—it's everyone's responsibility! No matter how small your contribution, donating one yuan or one car counts. If you don't donate, can you sit here with a clear conscience?" As Su Mang said this final line, she scanned the room—those who hadn't donated—and fixed her gaze especially on the Principal's direction.

Her earlier words were fine, but this last line caused a wave of murmurs—she had offended many.

She'd already offended so many; one more wouldn't matter.

But she knew she'd gone too far, and quickly laughed loudly to defuse it: "Still, sharing a message once is helping save lives! Tonight, let's put competition aside, unite for love! With our compassion, light more hopes for life!"

At the main table, Fang Hong stood up, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and walked straight toward the stage.

This sudden move surprised everyone—why was the Principal going up there?

"Principal, are you here to pledge a car fleet?" Su Mang looked confused—he wasn't on the program.

Fang Hong reached out, took the microphone from her hand, and said: "I'll say two words today!"

The audience was utterly baffled.

"Clap—I'm not worth your applause?" Fang Hong said.

"Applause!" The venue erupted in loud clapping—when the Principal told them to clap, they had to.

Liu Tianxian showed no expression, just watched.

"Qian Zong, the Wang Fei vanity mirror you bought is fake—it's wholesale for 38 yuan at the Yiwu Small Commodities Market," Fang Hong exposed it live.

This guy was clearly a Wang Fei fan—he paid 13 million for Wang Fei's vanity mirror.

The man called Qian Zong was Chairman of Hengfeng; he stood up, stunned, and roared: "I demand to inspect the goods on the spot!"

"Calm down!" Fang Hong gestured for him to sit.

Damn it, he keeps saying he won't donate, so today he's going to tear this thing apart.

Su Mang beside him turned green in the face, and seeing he still wanted to speak, was about to rush up and snatch the microphone.

"Don't mess around with me, behave." Fang Hong pointed a finger at him, his gaze sharp.

This made Su Mang a little scared, and he didn't dare move again.

The celebrities and famous people below watched with great interest — the Principal was here to clean up the fashion circle.

Good! Good! Good! Then they wouldn't have to suffer fashion bullying anymore.

"You, the one called Jia Nainai — the painting you had ghost-painted sold for 480,000. I won't spell out what kind of behavior that is." Fang Hong pointed at the person, calling him out by name directly.

Everyone looked over and saw Jia Nainai's handsome face flushed red, his neck shrunk in as if afraid to show his head.

His wife Pingxi Wang's eyes looked like they wanted to knife someone.

Actually, this matter is easy to sort out. At the end of last year, when Fang Hong and Huayi were locked in a fierce battle, it blew up the entire entertainment circle and exposed "Big Bombing"'s parent company.

And the general manager of that company was the person who bought his painting — as for why he bought it, take a guess?

"General Manager Cao, you donated a fleet worth ten million, inflated by 50%. That means it only counts as you donating five million. As for where the other five million went, I don't know either." Fang Hong spread his hands, looking helpless.

"Smack!" Lao Cao had a terrible temper and smashed his cup violently on the ground, sending glass shards scattering everywhere.

It startled the people beside him, who had to stand up and step aside.

Ten million, only five million — add in the commission, this and that, and what money is left? There's no money at all.

Still, Lei Bus was clever — bringing 100 phones to hand out to you all, just consider it a charitable donation.

"I said this meeting was no good. Told them to make it public, and they wouldn't." Auntie Dong's face was black too.

"I demand an audit!" Lao Cao roared.

"Calm down, wait until I'm done. After that, settle accounts with them however you want — I support you." Fang Hong pointed and pressed down, gesturing for him to sit.

Lao Cao slammed the table hard and sat down with a huff!

Thinking this place had big influence, big exposure, everyone watching, there'd be less insider dealing — didn't expect it to be just as shady.

After this commotion, the socialite butterflies who had originally been mingling here all went quiet, looking up at the Principal on stage as the embodiment of justice.

If he keeps exposing like this, Basha is going to offend everyone! Who would dare come in the future.

"Principal, I beg you, stop talking." Su Mang moved closer, a pleading look on her face.

She didn't have a microphone, so the people below couldn't hear.

But Fang Hong had a microphone, and said directly: "What, am I getting in the way of your buying a mansion?"

(End of chapter)