Chapter 123

In early December, as public attention on the Bing-Yan romance scandal declined, Li Bingbing denied the relationship through her agent Wang Jinghua.

"... They're just close friends; there's no other relationship."

When reporters questioned why they held hands while returning home together, Wang Jinghua repeated the same statement and then avoided answering.

This attempt to conceal the truth only made many netizens more convinced the two were truly involved.

Probably Li Bingbing, considering her acting career, didn't want to publicly elaborate.

But soon, Yi'an Film & Television contacted the media and issued a related clarification in Yan Li's name.

No romance—they're friends; they went to Li Bingbing's home together to discuss "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies," and her sister was also present.

Every word of Yan Li's clarification was true, but whether the public believed it was another matter entirely.

Both sides' denials and clarifications weren't fooling anyone; honestly, admitting it wouldn't matter much.

Yan Li's behind-the-scenes identity outweighs his actor status; whether his romance became public made no difference.

For a rising star like Li Bingbing, such exposure was unavoidable, but at this stage, actors dating wasn't treated so harshly.

Zhou Young Master and International Zhang were flooded with rumors; Xu Caonü's entanglement with Wang Shuo had become a classic internet meme.

Xiao Yanzi's status with her wealthy second-generation boyfriend was unclear, but she was photographed this year kissing a Chinese-American actor, later claiming they were just good buddies—hugging and kissing was merely ceremonial warmth.

Honestly, Yan Li felt he was already shameless enough, but compared to these Americans, he was still green...

The reason Yan and Li refused to acknowledge the rumor wasn't just because it was fake and unnecessary to admit—it was primarily for future promotion.

If they confirmed the relationship, the buzz would last only a short while, then fade away.

So they had to publicly deny it stubbornly, turning the period into a comma and a question mark, to spark public suspicion and sustained attention, lay groundwork for later promotion, and leave room to retreat.

Romance scandal exposed—both sides deny and clarify—insider leaks—background check on relationship/career—experts comment—netizens erupt in debate

Since the Bing-Yan romance scandal broke, all kinds of related news kept emerging.

Sina, NetEase, and Sohu all launched special topics; other online platforms and entertainment media also gave it considerable coverage.

Of course, such a minor rumor gaining such lasting and widespread influence couldn't have happened without Yan Li secretly stoking the flames.

He'd finally tasted the sweet rewards of promotion and hype!

Even before "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" began filming, satellite TV channels had already inquired.

Goodness, Yan Li finally understood what it felt like for a famous production to be fought over by TV stations.

Although "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" was still far from that level—TV stations were just asking casually—if the hype continued like this, combined with the project's inherent thematic appeal, maybe such a day truly would come.

Due to the unexpectedly strong promotional effect, Yan Li even considered whether to invest in media or related internet platforms.

Even fine wine fears being hidden down a back alley; having a powerful promotional channel was crucial.

With good promotion, the "product" could be sold faster and at a higher price!

Besides benefiting the "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" crew, Yan Li's online fame also grew significantly.

He was recognized twice in person under the identity of "Li Bingbing's romance scandal boyfriend."

Now Yan Li paid attention when going out, trying to avoid being alone with any woman.

Otherwise, if paparazzi caught him, it could ruin the promotion plan—and worse, if Dong Xuan and Qin Lan discovered another woman near him, trouble might follow.

"Looking at it this way, fame isn't all benefits—at least, it's no longer free."

Yan Li couldn't help complaining to Wang Ou: he used to go wherever he wanted, meet whoever he pleased, hardly anyone knew him, and no one paid attention to him.

He'd even once stayed overnight at Wang Ou's shared apartment for thrills—now that was impossible.

Yan Li wasn't afraid they'd leak something; without evidence, no one would believe them—but there was no need to invite trouble.

His carefree, easygoing life had suddenly become constrained; Yan Li found it hard to adjust.

"Actually, they didn't recognize you."

Wang Ou explained: that day, Yan Li had only met her two roommates for a few minutes, then stayed in her bedroom the whole time, revealed no identity, only gave a surname—it wasn't easy to connect the dots.

She hadn't noticed anything odd; if they'd recognized him, they'd have already asked her about him.

Especially that Lisa—she might even push Wang Ou to invite Yan Li over again so she could sneak in and eavesdrop.

Yan Li glanced at Wang Ou: "Why does it sound like you actually want me to go to Tuanjiehu?"

"No."

Wang Ou shook her head, cheeks flushed, voice soft: "I've already found an apartment—I'm moving in these two days."

Yan Li nodded; the Tuanjiehu apartment was indeed basic, full of inconveniences—occasional thrills were fine, but living there long-term was asking for trouble.

He patted his thigh, locked the office door, and Wang Ou obediently sat on it; Yan Li slipped his hand inside her shirt and idly played.

"Is your rent money enough?"

"Yes."

Wang Ou replied while cooperating: "Besides coming to the company, I just memorize lines at home—no other expenses. After paying rent and deposit, I still have plenty left."

"Don't be too frugal."

Yan Li was penny-pinching in business, but he wasn't stingy with those close to him: "Spend when needed. Cash is inconvenient—give me your bank account later, I'll transfer you some. It's almost New Year—send some home to your mom; knowing you're doing well in Jingcheng will ease her mind."

"Yan Zong..."

Wang Ou was moved; due to her family background and childhood experiences, she harbored both hatred and resentment toward home, yet craved its care and approval.

Yan Li giving her money made her happy—but asking her to send money home struck her right in the core.

"Yan Zong, I want to take a class."

Wang Ou's way of expressing gratitude was blunt, but Yan Li was troubled.

"I have dinner with investors tonight, then go home—I don't have time."

Wang Ou grinned mischievously: "Aren't you free right now?"

"This is a workplace—be serious."

Wang Ou said seriously: "I'm just doing my job—I'm your part-time life assistant, so I'm helping you boost metabolism, reduce irrelevant distractions, and improve focus for better work."

Yan Li: "…"

Hmm, it's not without logic!

He'd always thought this girl looked gentle and sweet, but her eyes carried a hint of seduction; after several classes, her true nature had finally shown itself.

Seeing Yan Li say nothing, Wang Ou began unbuttoning her shirt, but he grabbed her wrist impatiently.

"Can you really stay silent?"

What stood out most about Wang Ou was how she loved speaking loudly in class—she could shout her voice hoarse.

In a rented apartment, people might just tease you; but if you made such a scene at the company, how could Yan Li, as boss, ever hold his head up again?

Wang Ou realized it too, her face flushing red—it wasn't her fault; Professor Yan's lectures were too intense, she simply couldn't hold back.

But then she immediately thought of a solution: if she couldn't stop herself from speaking, then she'd just have to silence her mouth.

She gripped Yan Li's office chair, then slowly knelt on her knees…

————

In mid-December, "The Legend of the Condor Heroes" premiered on multiple terrestrial channels, and Jiang Xin gained minor fame.

Almost simultaneously, "Snowflakes Goddess Dragon" was scheduled for broadcast on Guangdong Satellite TV as the network's year-end grand drama; Dong Xuan's popularity was expected to rise further.

With both leads gaining popularity, this was good news for the upcoming "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" production team.

By the way, Yan Li almost forgot—the scholar who played the sixth fairy's husband, Qiao Zhenyu.

He'd also appeared frequently in "Snowflakes Goddess Dragon," not quite matching Dong Xuan's fame, but close enough; Yan Li had essentially copied three bottom cards.

With Shuang Bing popular, Dong Xuan, Li Lin, Jiang Xin, and Huo Siyan all had some fame; except for Yang Xue, the cast was nearly all-star.

Among the male leads, Gao Xin, Wu Yue, Wu Jian, Qiao Zhenyu, and Yan Li all had some recognition; only Zhou Yi was truly new.

As for the male lead Dong Yong, Yan Li hadn't found any actor whose price suited him well.

Plus, the production's promotional strategy had shifted due to Shuang Bing's popularity, centering primarily on the Seven Fairies, so they ultimately chose an actor with little fame—

Pan Yueming

He'd appeared in a few films, but wasn't particularly famous; Yan Li liked his pale, soft, gentle demeanor, which suited Dong Yong's honest character perfectly.

The key was his low price—he'd agreed to play the male lead with substantial screen time for just a few ten thousand yuan.

Only after signing the contract did Yan Li learn this guy had many acquaintances on set.

Among the Seven Fairies, Shuang Bing and Huo Siyan had both worked with him before.

Especially Huo Siyan—the two had played a couple in "The Happy Life of Fat Zhang Damin," and now they were reuniting.

There were plenty of other acquaintances too; the circle was small, many weren't newcomers, and running into each other on different sets was normal, even if they weren't close.

Outside the seven couples, Wang Mu was played by Liu Xiaoqing, Liang Guanhua portrayed the Barefoot Immortal, and the actor chosen for Li Jing, the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King, was Zhang Li, whom Yan Li had previously collaborated with in "Xiao Yanzi Li San."

For the comedic role of the Broom Star, who tied the whole drama together, Yan Li personally selected actor Liu Bo.

He triggered a monthly intelligence update about "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies"—a news article praising Liu Bo's performance as the Broom Star—and Yan Li directly followed the system's advice.

For minor roles such as Qianliyan, Shunfenger, Heavenly Soldiers, and human supporting characters, etc.

Yan Li didn't bother asking—he left casting entirely to Wang Decai and his team, not caring whether there was favoritism or backroom deals, only watching the results.

If they performed well—or even adequately—that was fine; if they performed poorly, they were gone. Simple as that.

As a producer, Yan Li now understood why the director of "Sui Tang Heroes," Hu Mingkai, had cast him after just one meeting.

In this circle, everything was scarce—except actors eager to rise. If you couldn't act well, there were plenty ready to replace you.

Not even the seven lead couples were safe; apart from Shuang Bing and Dong Xuan, anyone else could be replaced if someone was determined.

Yan Li had once thought so himself.

He'd simply wanted to be an actor: act when there was a role, trade stocks when there wasn't, invest money when he had it—live a carefree, unburdened life.

But after experiencing more, he realized the world wasn't that simple.

Even the most famous actor was still just someone being chosen; having money didn't mean you called the shots.

A carefree hermit could be carefree when nothing happened—but when trouble came, you'd truly be scattered.

To gain control and the corresponding freedom, you needed more than money—you needed power.

Money was used to build power; once power was established, it protected the money. The two reinforced each other—neither could be missing.

As an actor, you could only be chosen; even as an investor without control, you could only guarantee you wouldn't be replaced—or at most, secure a few roles.

Only by becoming the true boss of the production, with absolute control, could you choose what to act in, who to cast, and who to replace.

A few more days passed; in late December, "Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" officially began filming at the Wuxi Film City in Jiangsu Province.

On the first day of filming, the crew wasn't fully assembled.

Shuang Bing didn't show up; Jiang Xin was promoting "The Legend of the Condor Heroes" and hadn't joined yet; Yang Xue had little screen time and no fame, so she'd delay joining.

Only Huo Siyan, Li Lin, and Dong Xuan—the three fairies—were present; among the male leads, only Pan Yueming, Wu Yue, Zhou Yi, and Yan Li were there.

"Huan Tian Xi Di Seven Fairies" was planned for 38 episodes, with many ensemble scenes and numerous solo roles.

Considering scheduling and efficiency, staggered filming was the optimal choice.

So for now, they were filming the scenes with the most screen time: Dong Yong and the Seventh Fairy, interspersed with the First, Third, and Fourth Fairies; after the Spring Festival, they'd film the Second, Fifth, and Sixth Fairies, then the grand ensemble scenes of the Seven Fairies.

With the crew incomplete—especially without the most talked-about Shuang Bing and Liu Xiaoqing—the visiting media were disappointed.

But the other young actors and actresses still had interview value.

Especially Yan Li—actor, producer, and rumored lover—earned exclusive interviews from "Film & TV Today" and "Entertainment Scene."

The gossip with Li Bingbing was unavoidable; Yan Li gave vague, evasive answers.

Though denying a romantic relationship, his words overflowed with praise and admiration for Li Bingbing, hinting that if the right opportunity arose, their relationship might deepen—leaving people to imagine.

Of course, besides praising Li Bingbing, Yan Li also complimented Fan Xiaopang, Dong Xuan, Huo Siyan, and others.

But their mentions were brief, and the media didn't care much—they turned to another topic.

He's an investor and producer—why not play the male lead?

Yan Li had answered this question more than once: "I'm the producer; first and foremost, I'm responsible to the crew. Whether I act or what role I play doesn't matter."

"The main storyline of our drama is derived from Liu Tianxian's Legend. The role of Dong Yong isn't suitable for me, so I won't force myself into it. I personally like the role of Jin Zha—the directors think it fits, and since the screen time is lighter, it makes it easier for me to handle behind-the-scenes work."

The reporter from Entertainment Live remained interested in Yan Li playing the male lead and pressed further.

"Have you considered playing a male lead in the future?"

"Of course. I trained as an actor—no actor doesn't want to be the lead."

"Then when exactly?"

"It depends on the role, scheduling, and my ability. Maybe soon, maybe a long time from now."

Although Yan Li didn't treat this matter with complete indifference, he wasn't particularly eager either—projects came first; acting came second.

If conditions didn't permit, not even the male lead had to be played—he'd be happy with a minor role, just enough to satisfy his acting urge.

After the interview, Yan Li and Wang Decai held the filming kickoff ceremony.

They placed offerings, lit incense, and prayed to Guan Erye for protection.

This was something Old Wang had learned from the directors in Xiangjiang—many crews now did the same.

Yan Li had done these rituals often to trigger useful information from the system, and he accepted them well.

He and the director Meng Ji stood in the center, with producer Wang Decai and another director Chen Yongge on either side—the four of them in front, the other leads and crew behind.

Yan Li lit the first stick of incense, clasped his hands together, bowed his head, and silently prayed.

"Guan Erye above, protect our TV drama so it becomes a massive hit, wins the ratings championship, gets snatched up by every TV station, and earns me tens of millions… let me keep both feet on two boats without capsizing… let me keep my feet on several boats without capsizing…"

————

ps: One more chapter updates at 8 PM tonight—today's total is 10,000 characters

(End of Chapter)