Chapter 371: Insult Without Revealing Weakness, Huayi Goes Public, a New Era Begins

The next day, when Yan Li went to the set to shoot, he learned that Xu Qing had left overnight.

Fan Xiaopang’s attack was devastating and exposed things Xu Qing had long deliberately ignored or deceived him about.

This sister had already finished all her scenes on set; she’d been making excuses to linger anyway, and once her mindset collapsed, she just left outright.

Yan Li called her, but she didn’t answer—he had no idea what it meant.

Calling a plane to stop mid-flight and racing to the airport to kiss and beg for forgiveness? That kind of drama was impossible for Yan Li.

Xu Qing was probably emotionally unstable now; he’d contact her again later.

They’d only agreed to collaborate on set; splitting early wasn’t a big deal. But Xu Qing had taken some hits—he’d find a way to make it up to her.

“Master Yan, you alright?”

Master Ge asked with concern. Since that day when the champagne and the Hongmen Banquet scenes were linked, they had started calling each other Master Ge and Master Yan, and sometimes Jiang Wen joined in the fun.

“Just a small thing.”

Yan Li calmly brushed off his sleeve. The day before, he’d knelt behind Fan Xiaopang and sincerely apologized; Fan Xiaopang, moved by his earnestness, had finally cried and forgiven him.

Of course, there had been some back-and-forth between Dong Xuan and Fan Xiaopang—none of which was fit for outsiders to hear.

“Tough!”

Master Ge had been in the industry for years—he’d heard of far worse on-set affairs, seen it more than once.

Most cases that escalated to this point rarely ended peacefully; usually, it took two days of chaos. For Yan Li to show up on set the next day as if nothing had happened was truly rare.

Talking about it, Yan Li grew curious: “How did Director Feng handle this year’s case? You’re close to him—tell us.”

Yan Li meant the “Night Stay Scandal” this year: Director Feng and a female host from Phoenix TV had been close since 2007, and she’d hosted many of his events; rumors had swirled for years.

Early this year, paparazzi caught Feng and the host returning to his residence and not leaving all night.

Notably, the host had publicly claimed to be married—but later clarified she’d divorced last year and was single.

Since Feng was a behind-the-scenes director and the host wasn’t famous, Huayi pushed hard to bury it, and it never blew up.

As it was an old partner’s private matter, Master Ge didn’t elaborate much, only praised Xu Fan.

She was truly magnanimous—she actively cooperated with Feng and Huayi to clean up the mess.

She usually turned a blind eye: as long as no one brought it home or made a scene, she acted as if she knew nothing.

Master Ge teased Yan Li: “I’ve never seen Xu Fan storm onto a set to target anyone.”

“Too mild’s boring. Sometimes I like something hot and spicy—stimulating.”

Yan Li wasn’t just being stubborn—he liked Fan Xiaopang precisely because of her temper. If she were like Qin Lan or Dong Xuan, it’d be dull.

He had eclectic tastes—he wanted to taste sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, warm, cool, icy—all of it.

Master Ge gave a thumbs-up. Though he thought Yan Li was being stubborn, he had to admit: aside from looks and fame, Fan Xiaopang’s contributions to Yi’an made her occasional tantrums understandable.

As they chatted, Jiang Wen arrived. Seeing Yan Li, he yelled with laughter: “Bro, did your wife scratch you yesterday? You didn’t even warn me—I could’ve held her back!”

Hold her back? You were the first one to run away yesterday, you old bastard.

“It’s fine.”

Yan Li brushed it off lightly, then patted Master Ge: “We were just talking—I lack experience, need to learn from seniors.”

“Hey, Lao Jiang, you’ve been around longer—ever heard of someone who got caught at the door, forced to write a confession? I should interview him—how’d he escape the tiger’s mouth?”

Jiang Wen: “...”

Don’t insult by exposing someone’s weakness—no wonder Fan Xiaopang was so vicious yesterday. She learned it from you.

Master Ge, watching the show, nearly laughed himself into a faint. Jiang Wen couldn’t take it anymore—he smacked his thigh.

“Little brother, I’ll drop a bomb too—back when someone went to the countryside...”

Master Ge jumped up, clamping his hand over Jiang Wen’s mouth: “I’m sorry! You two fight your battles—don’t drag me in!”

Yan Li, meanwhile, egged them on—partly out of curiosity, partly because he didn’t want Master Ge to stay clean.

If everyone looks foolish, no one looks foolish. If you’re going to make it a joke, make it a group joke.

After laughing and teasing, they started shooting. It was already late October, and Yan Li’s scenes were nearly done.

The major scenes were mostly filmed; now it was mostly supporting work, watching Jiang Wen’s ideas, and doing some reshoots.

Yan Li made it clear: he could delay his schedule a few days to help, but once he left, asking him to return for reshoots would be impossible.

So Jiang Wen had to figure out everything about Huang Silang’s scenes before Yan Li left.

Jiang Wen, considering Fan Xiaopang’s visit, adjusted the schedule slightly—Yan Li wrapped at 2 p.m.

Yan Li had planned to take Dong Xuan and Fan Xiaopang out to eat, but feared they’d cause trouble, so he detoured to buy food to take home.

Unlocking the door, he found Dong Xuan hugging a cat watching TV. He asked: “Did Bingbing leave?”

If Fan Xiaopang was leaving, she should’ve told him.

“Still sleeping inside—like a pig.”

Dong Xuan complained, when the bedroom door opened and Fan Xiaopang stepped out, hair loose.

“You’re the pig—I just didn’t feel like coming out because you annoyed me.”

Saying that, Fan Xiaopang, barefoot, walked over, opened the food box, and grabbed some braised dishes with her fingers. Dong Xuan recoiled.

“Did you wash your hands?”

Fan Xiaopang chewed, held up her fingers, and made a scratching motion: “It’s your own stuff—why complain about dirt?”

Even Yan Li couldn’t take it: “Go wash your hands.”

“I already washed them—otherwise I couldn’t eat.”

Fan Xiaopang wiped her hands with a tissue, sat cross-legged on the sofa, and reached for Dong Xuan’s cat. Dong Xuan refused.

“Don’t touch it—you’ll get scratched.”

“No way. I checked yesterday—she’s a dumb cat, wouldn’t dare scratch.”

Fan Xiaopang pinched the plush cat’s face; it meowed softly and let herself be handled.

“See?”

Dong Xuan ground her teeth, stroked the cat: “Pathetic.”

“Cats reflect their owners.”

Fan Xiaopang added the knife. Dong Xuan dropped the cat and glared: “Are you looking for trouble? I’ve been in a bad mood lately—don’t go picking fights.”

“Oh come on, I didn’t notice—yesterday I saw someone laughing harder than ever.”

Fan Xiaopang gritted her teeth—she’d been waiting to retaliate since Dong Xuan took advantage yesterday.

Yan Li came out of the bathroom, saw them, and shook his head: “When I wasn’t home, you two didn’t fight. Now that I’m back, you start bickering—performing for me?”

Dong Xuan snorted: “This is my place. Get her out—I don’t want to see her.”

Fan Xiaopang shot back: “The house is in your name? I could say it’s mine.”

Yan Li said nothing, just pulled out his phone and aimed it at them. Fan Xiaopang instinctively covered her face.

“What are you doing?”

Yan Li explained: “Keep going—I’ll film this and send it to Qin Lan. She’s been nauseous these past few days, in a bad mood—seeing you two fight will cheer her up.”

“Pfft.”

Fan Xiaopang spat at him. Dong Xuan threw a pillow straight at him.

Yan Li didn’t care. The best way to resolve internal conflict is to create an external one.

He’d used this trick for years—it never failed.

Bring Qin Lan into it, divert some of the heat, and their hostility would fade.

Rarely did they gather like this—he didn’t want to waste time on fighting and mediation.

“I bought a few DVDs—we’ll watch a movie later.”

Three of them, going out was inconvenient, and there was little else to do at home—so a movie it was.

These past days, when he had free time, Yan Li had watched movies with Dong Xuan—it was a decent way to relax.

Fan Xiaopang had no objections; she boldly claimed the right side of him and shoved her feet into his lap to warm them.

Dong Xuan arrived too late but didn’t give up—she snuggled into Yan Li’s arms and teased Fan Xiaopang with college memories.

Back when they dated in college, Yan Li had little money, so they’d specifically book hotels with TVs and DVD players, rent tapes, save movie tickets, and watch several films in one go.

But truth be told, back then they were both young, full of blood and vigor, addicted to pleasure—often, the movie wouldn’t even reach halfway before the soundtrack became something else.

Fan Xiaopang blinked: “So you two went to cheap motels? When I was with Yan Li, we stayed in top European hotels.”

“Thanks—I get the hard times, you get the good ones.”

Dong Xuan was speechless, then snapped: “Vain, stealing someone else’s man, you slut.”

“Then why are you eating leftovers? Qin Lan said she was Yan Li’s girlfriend back then.”

Since Fan Xiaopang arrived late, she couldn’t compete on seniority—so she started “borrowing knives to kill.”

Against Dong Xuan, she sided with Qin Lan; when she fought Qin Lan, she defended Dong Xuan—always flexible.

When facing both Qin and Dong together, she either sowed discord or ignored seniority entirely, focusing instead on contributions to Yan Li’s career, her own strength, and public recognition.

As the saying goes: the strongest army becomes emperor; the one with universal support becomes empress.

The empress isn’t won by fighting—she’s earned by doing!

Despite controversy, Fan Xiaopang was indeed the most publicly recognized as Yan Li’s true empress—otherwise, Qin and Dong wouldn’t have teamed up against her.

“Enough. Watch the movie.”

Yan Li slapped his butt to quiet them, but soon Fan Xiaopang started fiddling with his legs again—Dong Xuan caught her red-handed.

“Disgusting.”

“You’re the one without shame—you called yourself dad yesterday before the baby was even born.”

Fan Xiaopang’s attack was too brutal—Dong Xuan couldn’t match her, forcing Yan Li to intervene.

“Stop talking so much—I already handed over the grain tax to her yesterday. Now you’re yelling like this; if Dong Xuan gets pregnant, you’ll turn into the Child-Bringing Guanyin.”

Dong Xuan’s eyes lit up, and she smiled sweetly at Fan Xiaopang: “Hey, if I get lucky because of you, I’ll give you a big red envelope.”

“Dream on.”

Fan Xiaopang sneered: “Qin Lan’s already showing. You haven’t even started yet. That red envelope? Save it for Qin Lan’s baby’s full-moon banquet.”

Dong Xuan couldn’t laugh anymore—this sly vixen wouldn’t let go of this joke.

Fan Xiaopang pressed further, pouring oil on the fire: “Aren’t you the one with a little sister named Yaya? Since you two look so alike, why not ask her to help out? Raise the baby as your own—it’s Yan Li’s seed anyway.”

Dong Xuan flew into a rage: “Fan, watch your mouth! This is between you and me—don’t drag my sister into it!”

“Heh.”

Fan Xiaopang sneered: “Don’t play innocent. You picked someone who looks just like you, and is so much younger, and parade her around every day. Do you think I don’t know what you’re up to?”

“Everyone says Wang Ou is no good, yet one of you runs a Poodle Sisterhood, and the other’s got a fake twin and a whole gang of female students.”

“I’d like to ask—do you really form alliances, or just use them as tools for favor-seeking? Hmph, sisters united, really clever.”

Fan Xiaopang had always believed Qin and Dong’s alliance had ulterior motives.

Never mind Qin Lan—what kind of person was Hu Siyan? She didn’t believe Qin Lan was clueless.

The Poodle Sisterhood? Ha—turn it into Yan Li’s harem in a blink.

Dong Xuan and Tong Yaya looked so alike; she didn’t believe Dong Xuan didn’t know what kind of man her husband was, or what thoughts that resemblance might spark. And those girls from North Film Academy—so beautiful, so young, brimming with dreams for the future. Hmph.

Even if they have no intentions now, when they grow older and face wave after wave of young girls challenging them, will they waver?

Fan Xiaopang believed Qin and Dong were no better than Wang Ou—only she herself was pure and noble, blooming alone.

“Bullshit.”

Dong Xuan was truly furious: “Don’t smear me with your filthy mind, and don’t pretend to be virtuous. Do you think no one knows about your little affair with Li Bingbing?”

“……”

Fan Xiaopang couldn’t help blurting out: “I’m just her ally!”

Dong Xuan shot back: “An ally who’s been piled on top of?”

“You and Qin Lan are the same.”

“We’ve never denied it. We never pretend to be innocent while secretly plotting, then smear others.”

Dong Xuan was furious—before, they’d just traded barbs, but now Fan Xiaopang’s words attacked her character and professional integrity. She would never accept that.

“Then tell me—have you never once thought about Tong Yaya and Yan Li?”

Yan Li turned his gaze toward her too—he was genuinely curious. Dong Xuan hesitated slightly, then firmly declared:

“No.”

“You hesitated. You’re lying.”

Fan Xiaopang seized Dong Xuan’s momentary pause and pressed her attack. Dong Xuan was both ashamed and furious.

“I didn’t do anything—just thinking about it once in a while isn’t a crime. Have you never thought of anything?”

Fan Xiaopang declared firmly: “Never.”

Yan Li shook his head: “I don’t believe you. Last time you told me about the Seven Immortals...”

Before he finished, Fan Xiaopang clamped her hand over his mouth. She was bold and carefree; occasional loose talk in private was normal.

Dong Xuan looked at Fan Xiaopang with disdain. Everyone had said things they shouldn’t, and everyone had imagined something thrilling.

To treat something that never happened as if it had, and to convict someone based on subjective guesses—that was truly baseless.

Yan Li sternly told Fan Xiaopang to apologize to Dong Xuan.

A few sharp words were fine, but slinging empty, exaggerated accusations was going too far. If he didn’t intervene, their fights would grow worse, and who knew what false charges they’d hurl next.

Seeing Yan Li’s expression, Fan Xiaopang dared not argue. She bowed her head and apologized.

She could act up normally, but when Yan Li turned serious, pushing further was just inviting trouble.

Dong Xuan rubbed her chin: “An apology’s not enough. Shouldn’t you serve tea and make amends?”

Fan Xiaopang gritted her teeth: “Fine—I’ll kneel and bow twice, and call you ‘Great Grandma.’”

“Alright.”

Dong Xuan nodded. Fan Xiaopang lunged forward, gripping her with full force: “Come on, let me serve Grandma properly.”

Watching the two tumble together, Yan Li glanced at the movie—barely one-tenth played—and sighed, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Yesterday I was too soft... didn’t discipline him properly...