Chapter 738

The grand banquet hall was luxurious and opulent, with people wandering about holding wine glasses, either seeking conversation or toasting others, though none went too far.

Because photography was not prohibited, professional photographers recorded the scene, and personal photos could be posted online as long as one wished to take them.

It was open and transparent—no privacy existed here.

Everyone here was a public figure; as long as you didn't strip or grope wildly, there was no need to fear being photographed.

Fang Hong himself was perfectly open—he and Liu Tianxian had no fear of being photographed, except by family.

"Miss Liu has quite a lively lifestyle—excellent. One must act according to one's nature, be oneself, and not worry about public opinion," said Officer Cui, offering life wisdom.

"Yes, I've always upheld this open-minded attitude, but still, I'm inevitably affected—human, after all," said Liu Tianxian.

"Completely normal. Everyone's human—not a god."

Officer Cui added, "Next year, we still need you, Miss Liu, to be our Image Ambassador for Macau!"

"If needed, I have no objection," Liu Tianxian smiled.

The Macau Film Festival would become Macau's calling card, and the Image Ambassador would serve as the city's spokesperson.

"Good. Principal, would you and your party like to stay in Macau for a few days? You could experience the local customs, visit New Lisboa—let me arrange someone to host you," said Officer Cui, looking at the two.

"No, I have no interest in gambling. We're flying back to Beijing tomorrow morning," Fang Hong waved off.

"Didn't expect that—we thought the Principal was the adventurous type," said Tan Sijiang.

They saw the Principal as someone bold and decisive, someone who embraced challenges—adventure had been routine for him over the years.

"What you see as adventure is actually planning, the result of deep thought. Gambling is different—it depends on luck. Whether you win or lose is up to fate. I don't like handing my destiny over to luck, losing control—it feels helpless."

"Lack of security," Liu Tianxian added.

"Exactly!" Fang Hong nodded.

"Understood. We won't keep you then. If you ever come to Macau, you can enjoy other things—even without gambling," Officer Cui raised his glass.

The officials and celebrities present also raised their glasses, and the crowd clinked them together with a soft "ding."

Amid the clinking glasses and flowing drinks, once the food and drink were mostly finished, some stars still grew restless and secretly headed to New Lisboa or Venice to gamble a little.

Many stars loved gambling—not a few, but most.

They played the same games as ordinary people, only in larger, more luxurious settings. You like prostitutes? They like their lower bodies too.

You like gambling? They like a few rounds too—this indirectly boosted Macau's consumption, and stars already had money.

After the Macau Film Festival ended, online buzz continued, and many winners received prize money—ranging from two to five million, adjusted figures.

Winning wasn't just about receiving a Trophy—it came with tangible rewards, and one's value naturally rose.

Film investors, directors, and casting teams began paying more attention to these winners, since they already had a reputation.

Wangyi felt little impact, but when checking resumes, they'd notice what honors these people had won.

Because Fang Hong's remarks at the Macau awards ceremony were widely reposted by self-media, the fire spread to Fang Long and Mojing Wang—nearly naming them outright.

They were accused of breaking rules, of being the two people responsible for the collapse of the film market's credibility.

This put Fang Long and Mojing Wang on the defensive. Previously, it had been Wangyi stirring up noise; now, the Principal himself had stepped in to criticize the phenomenon—the nature of the matter had changed.

The Principal had immense influence in the film industry—status, and official recognition, both secured.

Mojing Wang first cracked under public pressure, especially since the Principal had insulted all seventy-plus stars, calling them brainless.

He responded: "The world is vast—why limit oneself to north and south? Obsessing over perfection is self-imposed stagnation. To you, this is just a film; to me, it's a world. True perfection contains imperfection—only through flaws can progress occur. The Ferryman—ferrying others, ferrying oneself!"

"Using underworld status to silence the audience—the Principal is right! It's rape!"

"The Master is blind, but the audience isn't. The Principal isn't either."

"True perfection contains imperfection—I'll help you implement the 'imperfection' properly!"

Wangyi quickly pushed back, and over that final line, ten thousand netizens gathered on Douban to collectively give The Ferryman one-star ratings.

You can't shut down the rating system forever!

This time, Mojing Wang faced fierce online condemnation, and not a single star dared speak up in his defense—all remained silent.

Simply put, this time the Principal stood firmly with Wangyi.

The Principal was truly strange—his stance kept shifting. He'd once harshly targeted stars like Liu Tianxian, attacking indiscriminately.

Then he sided with stars to strike at film capital and the fashion circle; then he sided with the film industry to harshly attack internet capital.

His stance never stayed firm on any side—he acted purely on whim.

Because the Principal reignited this issue, major mainstream media also stepped forward to speak out.

Southern Weekly published: "Audiences are not lambs to be manipulated by underworld status. Any power attempting to override artistic quality will be nailed to the pillar of shame."

The Beijing News gave it a film-history classification: "Textbook of Bad Film Sociology!"

The incident was even included among China's Ten Key Film Events of the Decade!

Clearly, the impact of this event was enormous.

Communication University of China specifically made this incident a course case, calling it a "classic example of audience empowerment in the internet age!"

Multiple mainstream media outlets and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences defined the incident—effectively pulling Mojing Wang off his pedestal.

Mojing Wang had utterly destroyed his reputation; securing funding to make a film every few years would now be extremely difficult.

As Mojing Wang faced public condemnation and media denunciations, Fang Long, feeling the pressure, also issued a response: "He did something wrong and has already been punished by law."

The "he" here referred to Xiao Fangzi.

He also said: "He worked hard and pushed himself on set, trying to prove himself again."

He added: "Iron Road Tigers was the result of everyone's joint effort. I don't want one person's issue to affect the entire work or other actors."

The entire statement meant: his son had been punished; society should show mercy and give him a chance to reform.

Without Fang Hong even needing to respond, these words sparked fierce Wangyi backlash: "If this happened to anyone else, it would be a lifelong stain—so because he's your son, he gets to act in films? Then banning propaganda becomes a joke!"

"Imprisonment is the legal cost; being blacklisted is the social responsibility cost! Don't confuse them!"

"If a disgraced artist merely apologizes and pays a penalty, where's the deterrent?"

"Hypocritical! Say one thing, do another."

"Set a terrible precedent! Disgraced artists are making a smooth comeback!"

"We should thank the Principal for speaking up—if he hadn't brought this up repeatedly, this would've been buried off the trending list, and these people wouldn't have responded at all."

"Yes, the Principal is the best! His values are the most upright!"

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"Why doesn't the state investigate them?!"

Just as public opinion surged, Fang Long called Fang Hong—the call came through Liu Tianxian.

People like him rarely had Fang Hong's number; only a few partners did.

"Principal, I've never wronged you! Are you really going to nail me to the pillar of shame? That's inappropriate!" Fang Long said over the phone.

At this moment, Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian had returned to Beijing. Fang Hong stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the snow outside, and said: "This isn't about whether you've wronged me—it's about crossing the line."

"You playing around with women? That's understandable. But scheming for your son's comeback—if it succeeds, the entire entertainment industry will be doomed."

"Don't you know how rotten these people in the industry are? If unchecked, if disgraced artists all succeed in making comebacks like your son, it won't just hurt your son—it'll destroy the whole circle. Everyone will have to be reshuffled."

"Is it really that serious?" Fang Long didn't believe it.

"How isn't it serious? Once constraints vanish, do you think this industry is cleaner than the Black Society? Cleaner than pornography? Look at what happened to those two industries! Once something is rotten to the core, there's no mercy—just wipe it out, no matter how big the industry or how high the revenue."

Once you block it, no matter how big the industry, it gets crushed—look at Dongguan, how popular it was, and they wiped it out in an instant.

Whenever a celebrity is exposed for scandal, dozens or even hundreds of behind-the-scenes companies flee. Even though scandals keep popping up in this industry, they've always stayed within an acceptable range.

Fang Hong knew what happened to the after-school tutoring sector—no one said a word, and they just wiped it out. That industry's revenue wasn't smaller than the film and television sector.

"Don't try to challenge human nature or the bottom line. Once a bottom line is breached, the entire dam develops a hole. All those who've made mistakes, all those gray-area artists, are watching you, Fang Long—they're all hoping your son succeeds."

"Then they'll widen the hole you've dug. Let me tell you this: your son must sever all ties with this industry—there's not a single chance left."

"No matter how great your status or prestige, you must completely abandon any chance of your son entering this industry," Fang Hong said again.

His tone was already harsh, decisive—telling Fang Long to stop wasting his effort and give up early.

"Principal, I only want a future for my son. I never meant to destroy the whole industry. You know my son is already 34—what can he do? What skills does he have? Aside from relying on my shadow, he can't do anything else," Fang Long, a father of many years, said.

Like Lao Wang Zong, he was just an old father, worn out from worrying about his son.

"I've already submitted a report to higher-ups to crack down on this. You have no chance left. Besides, your son has already done better than most people—your money is enough to guarantee him a lifetime of comfort. If you feel bad, then while you're still young, start a new account."

Liu Tianxian listened beside him, frowning slightly at these words.

"How shameless—he's already over sixty, and you're telling him to start a new account? Even if he tried, his wife couldn't bear children anymore."

Fang Long was momentarily speechless. If he really found someone else to start a new account, his reputation would be ruined—his final years would be tarnished.

Because this was adultery. This was an illegitimate child.

All one could say was that the Principal was ruthless—to completely cut off their chances, he'd even written a memorial to the higher-ups.

Fang Hong glanced at Liu Tianxian and suggested again: "Of course, there's another way—get your son married and have children quickly. Start a new account."

"Hah, Principal, you really can't say anything else?" Fang Long laughed at his words.

"I only have this suggestion—it's the most sensible one. Honestly, you don't need to care whether he's accomplished, because you've already worked hard for him for decades. Now you're still working hard for him," Fang Hong said, with some logic.

Fang Long had already worked so hard—he didn't need his son to work anymore. All his son needed to do was live as a rich second-generation slacker.

"Alright, let it be this way. I won't say more," Fang Long was utterly drained by all this.

This matter not only burdened him with public pressure, but also left him owing favors everywhere.

One could only say he'd overestimated his own importance—but he really was quite important.

After hanging up, Liu Tianxian said: "You really are something—someone's over sixty, and you tell him to have another child? He doesn't even have any shame."

"Sigh, thinking of all these fathers, I suddenly feel anxious about my own future."

Fang Hong sighed, looking at her: "Do you think our son will turn out like Xiao Wang or Xiao Fang?"

"That depends on how we raise him. If we raise him well, he won't make mistakes," Liu Tianxian said, somewhat worried by his words.

After all, she'd seen too many spoiled rich second-generation kids—once they had money, they acted without restraint.

"What if we start another account? That'd be safer," Fang Hong suddenly leaned closer.

"Hehehe"

Liu Tianxian couldn't help laughing, giving him a few light taps on the shoulder.

Just as public opinion over Xiao Fang grew fiercer, the General Administration and Propaganda Department jointly issued a statement titled: Notice on Launching Comprehensive Governance of the Cultural and Entertainment Sector.

This statement upgraded the crackdown on disgraced artists: it would establish a Blacklist, screen out artists with illegal or immoral records such as gambling, drugs, and prostitution, and strictly ban them.

Artists attempting a comeback would face strict review—no manipulation, no whitewashing, no indirect comebacks through Variety shows.

Anyone who violated this by hiring disgraced artists would be held accountable—including platforms that promoted or whitewashed them, who would also bear joint responsibility.

In other words, Xiao Fang couldn't even stir up controversy—using public opinion to whitewash himself was impossible. He could only be erased.

As soon as the statement was released, Wangyi cheered and celebrated.

"Only the Principal could do it—without him pushing, this wouldn't have happened so fast."

"Principal is awesome! Principal is the best!"

"The Principal stands on the side of justice."

When the artists saw the statement, they completely abandoned any thought of taking desperate risks—the statement made it clear: touch the line, vanish without a trace.

Of course, there were still many foolish people—this world never lacked idiots.

When Fang Long saw this document, his heart died completely; his son was equally heartbroken.

But Xiao Fang refused to accept it, shouting: "It's definitely the Principal—I'm going to settle accounts with him!"

"Slap!"

Fang Long flew into a rage and slapped his son across the face without hesitation, lecturing him: "You still think the trouble you've caused isn't big enough? You still want to go after them? What gives you the right to go after them? They could crush you with one finger.

You think you're more impressive than Xiao Wang? More impressive than Huayi? You can't hold a candle to anyone — you're nothing but a useless piece of trash."

These words were roared out, leaving the little house utterly aggrieved. Covering his slapped face, he silently lowered his head — his old man had never cursed him like this before.

Lin Fengjiao, standing nearby, didn't even dare speak, only silently weeping in sorrow — how had things come to this?

Fang Long had no choice either; he only hoped his son would settle down. If he went to settle scores with the Principal, it wouldn't be like this — in a serious case he might end up inside again.

This isn't Hong Kong — the moment you lay a hand on someone, the nature of the matter changes.

(End of Chapter)