Chapter 45: Making Up Dirt When You Have None (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Not just An Feng and Li Xuexue, many of Qi Hao’s rumored girlfriends also received phone interview requests from the media.

But most of them simply ignored them.

In the entertainment industry, a profit-driven circus, there are endless bizarre rumors—you can’t respond to everything.

As one of Qi Hao’s former rumored girlfriends, Sun Li also received numerous interview requests.

But she declined them all.

Sun Li tossed her phone aside and rolled her eyes at her boyfriend: “Now are you satisfied? He’s gay…”

“Get real—if he’s gay, then I’m… I’m…”

Deng Zhao felt his intelligence had been insulted.

“You’re gay too?” Sun Li laughed until she couldn’t straighten up; she thought her boyfriend was hilarious.

Actually, she didn’t quite understand it either.

Both of them had dated multiple partners before they got together—not just one or two.

Why did Deng Zhao fixate on Qi Hao like they’d slept together?

No matter how she explained, Deng Zhao refused to believe her.

“What the hell are you laughing at? You think I won’t punch you?”

Deng Zhao was furious and embarrassed.

The truth was simple: Qi Hao was more famous and better-looking than him. If she were Sun Li, she’d almost certainly choose Qi Hao over Deng Zhao himself.

Yeah, if I were a woman, I’d fall for Qi Hao too.

“Come on, punch me!”

Sun Li unbuttoned her collar and shot Deng Zhao a sultry glance.

“Fuck!”

You old bastard—what started as a fight turned into fucking.

If I don’t put you in your place, am I even a man?

In truth, neither Sun Li nor Deng Zhao—who’d tried to run over Qi Hao with his car—believed Qi Hao’s orientation was an issue.

Deng Zhao even wanted to add fuel to the fire.

But Sun Li stopped him.

Anyone who’s worked with Qi Hao knows he’s actually a good person.

Especially the female stars who’ve been rumored to date him—the number is absurdly high; rumors spread over co-starring roles, joint commercials, even public appearances, let alone private dinners, karaoke nights, or hangouts.

Yet no matter how the rumors ended, not one of them ever came forward to kick him while he was down.

What truly silenced this farce were the big bosses.

Although the media blurred the faces of the male bosses in the photos, more unblurred images continued to surface online.

When Qi Hao’s negative article first dropped, Zi Wen immediately held a meeting.

Should they kick him while he was down and destroy this bastard?

Zi Wen had always been weak in artist management; after Qi Hao left, their artist management revenue plummeted.

This directly affected year-end bonuses and raises.

The artist management departments all harbored resentment toward Qi Hao.

With such a perfect opportunity, not striking now might damage their moral resolve.

Even just venting some anger would be satisfying.

“Are you an idiot? Are your eyes blind? ￥#@*&”

The deputy general manager screamed at the employee making the suggestion.

Since the supervisor was fired, the deputy general manager had taken over his duties.

Moreover, the deputy general manager bore responsibility for failing to supervise Qi Hao’s affairs; if he didn’t produce results, he’d likely be demoted.

Looking at this bunch of incompetent fools who spent all day scheming against each other, his blood pressure skyrocketed.

At that moment, he swore he heard his great-grandmother calling him.

“But…”

You’ve been privately bashing Qi Hao too.

We’re just catering to your tastes, kissing your ass—why are you reacting so strongly?

“Look who this is! Look!”

The deputy general manager grabbed his phone and nearly shoved it into the subordinate’s eye socket.

“That’s… it’s blurred, you can’t see anything!”

“That’s Ma… Zhong… Jun! Do you know Ma Zhongjun? Huh? You don’t even know who Ma Zhongjun is?”

The deputy general manager laughed bitterly.

If I’d listened to you idiots, I wouldn’t just be getting demoted—I’d be packing my bags and leaving!

“L-L-L-Boss!” The subordinate turned pale.

“Get out!” The deputy general manager gripped his forehead, breathing heavily with rage.

The subordinate nearly crawled out of the deputy general manager’s office.

“Come back!” The deputy general manager called him back.

“Boss Yang?”

“Call the media—tomorrow, if that photo’s still out there, don’t blame me for going nuclear.”

The deputy general manager was furious too.

Now they couldn’t kick him while he was down—they had to clean up Qi Hao’s mess for him.

Otherwise, Boss Ma Zhongjun would eventually find out that, without even realizing it, he’d been turned gay by Qi Hao.

Qi Hao used to be Zi Wen’s top artist; Boss Ma Zhongjun was the producer of “Seven Swords” and the executive producer of “The Return of the Condor Heroes”—they naturally drank and socialized often.

The photo of them was also used by the media as fodder.

For the same reason, not just Zi Wen but also the renowned director Jiang Wen flew into a rage.

Jiang Wen directly called a senior executive at a media outlet.

“My wife asked me when I became gay—I’d like to know when the hell I became gay too.”

But all these were just verbal outbursts; for major media outlets, they weren’t the worst.

The worst was Ge You.

Ge You’s anger was over a hundred times greater than Jiang Wen’s.

“Are you even human? That man in the photo is my father—my real father! He’s eighty years old! If you think you’re innocent, let’s take this to court!”

His father, Ge Cunzhuang, was born in 1929 and joined the Qiqihar Art Troupe in 1947 to begin his artistic career.

Though he played countless iconic villains, he was deeply respected in the industry—he won the China Film Performance Art Society Award in 1999 and was honored as a “National Artist of Outstanding Contribution,” and last year received the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Third Virtuous and Artistic Excellence Ceremony.

An eighty-year-old man, at the twilight of his life, suddenly caught up in a scandal about keeping male lovers.

His only connection to Qi Hao was a single drink they shared when he made a cameo in Qi Hao’s “Waiting Alone.”

Yet their photo was also twisted by the media.

After Ge You spoke out, the nature of the incident changed—he was serious about suing.

Soon, the Film Association and cultural authorities issued statements, leaving major media outlets and marketing firms scrambling.

Some black-fan leaders deleted their accounts overnight.

The entire campaign to crush Qi Hao fizzled out as abruptly as it began.

Of course, reviewing the whole process, it’s no surprise Qi Hao wasn’t harmed.

First, there were almost no concrete proofs.

Second, the accusations against him were absurd—he’s a guy who constantly gets rumored to date female stars; who’d believe he’s gay?

Third, the media thought blurring the photos would avoid risk—only fools like A Jiao would believe that.

They also underestimated the strength of Qi Hao’s PR team.

Zhan Qi Laiden didn’t initially come out to refute the rumors—there’s no precise way to refute something like this.

You say you’re not gay—how do you prove you’re not gay?

Legal action wouldn’t help much either.

Even if Qi Hao sued the media and online trolls, it wouldn’t just be difficult to execute—the timeline would drag on for years.

By the time he won, it’d be decades later.

People only care about what interests them; no one would notice your announcement about winning the lawsuit.

That’s ineffective PR.

Zhan Qi Laiden did very little—once the rumors had fermented enough, he hired people to post fake negative material about Qi Hao online.

And it was unblurred material.

Netizens despised the blurs; once they saw unblurred photos, they automatically shared and commented.

The netizens were delighted—but the big bosses were stunned.

Sitting at home, a black pot fell from the sky.

And it was a massive black pot.

Now, whether they were truly gay or not, everyone had to step forward and show their influence.

Lao Tian marveled at Zhan Qi Laiden’s ruthlessness.

Lao Tian was awed by Zhan Qi Laiden’s ruthlessness.

He felt this matter shouldn’t drag down elderly artists, but he had to admit that Janchi Laiden’s methods were swift and effective.

Besides, before the mosaic was removed, none of those elderly artists came forward to speak for Qi Hao.

Not even his rumored girlfriends.

Only after the mosaic was removed did you realize how desperate things had become.

All one can say is that the entertainment industry is this brutally real.

In fact, Old Tian had already prepared himself mentally for bringing in Janchi Laiden for PR.

With no background and no financial power, Qi Hao could only rely on someone like this ruthless, highly capable individual to handle his PR if he wanted to survive in the entertainment industry without being torn apart.

Someone like Janchi Laiden, in ancient times, would likely have worshipped Jia Xu as his founding master.

His tactics were unorthodox and utterly ruthless—anyone caught in his crosshairs either died or was severely wounded.

But Janchi Laiden wasn’t foolish.

He knew Qi Hao’s studio had shallow roots, so he abandoned his usual high-profile PR style.

He neither mocked the media nor ridiculed allies.

He circled around in convoluted ways to ensure no one would know Qi Hao’s studio was behind it.

Hmm, not even Qi Hao himself knew.

After all, no one would ever think Qi Hao would smear himself.

He manufactured his own scandals, voluntarily releasing high-definition, unblurred images.