Chapter 380: In 2010, I Really Became Boss Yan

At the end of 2009, Zhang Ziyi’s “Ink Splatter Gate” became the center of attention, even overshadowing the breakup of the two Zhangs.

After the Ink Splatter incident, the mastermind behind it didn’t wait long before stepping forward—it was Zhao, a close friend and socialite of Zhang Ziyi.

With her own revelations, media investigations, and leaks from insiders, the full story gradually came to light.

Zhao had connections and moved easily in the entertainment circle; she was once called a Beijing socialite, and Zhang clung to her, the two becoming close friends.

Neither was content with a quiet life, so they planned to go into business together—but neither knew how to run a company, and they lost heavily.

Zhang then tried to bring in a new boss, Zhao introduced connections, Zhang used her fame to network and recruit, and eventually they pulled in “Boss A,” with rumors suggesting Zhang was dating two men—one overseas, one domestic.

But Boss A was married; his wife went after Zhao, the matchmaker, while Zhang, once exposed, blamed Zhao for the leak and also targeted her—Zhang’s brother even insulted her viciously. Zhao felt Zhang was ungracious and broke ties with her.

Of course, this was only the surface story; some leaks claimed there was also an economic conflict between them.

The Ink Splatter Gate was created by Zhao’s “friend” to “right a wrong” on her behalf.

Thus, the feud between Zhang and Zhao, the identity of Boss A, and the overseas billionaire boyfriend’s reaction became endless gossip for countless people.

Even Yu Yanli suffered collateral damage—some pinned Boss A on him.

After all, Boss Yan’s reputation is well known to those who know—it was long assumed that besides Li Bing and Li Chen, the Four Dan had also fallen victim to him.

Some even offered detailed analysis: “A” meant “An,” as in An Yi’s “An,” and media claimed Boss A was generous to Zhang Shengyi.

It was said that just one Tiffany limited-edition necklace cost over ten million, diamond earrings and a diamond necklace each over ten million, a Hermès diamond crocodile skin bag over one million, an Audi car over two million, two famous paintings worth five to six million U.S. dollars—in less than a year, he spent nearly two hundred million on Zhang Ziyi.

Yu Yanli was always known in the industry for his generosity; back then he gave Fan Xiaopang a Mercedes G-Class, not to mention countless luxury bags and precious jewelry.

By the way, Fan Xiaopang and Zhang Ziyi didn’t get along—whether over competing for men or revenge, the logic fit.

That matched perfectly!

Yu Yanli was fed up—he’d met Zhang Ziyi fewer than ten times, and now they were linked like this?

The craziest part? He supposedly spent nearly two hundred million on gifts—these reporters truly didn’t treat money as money.

Remember, this was 2009—two or three million could buy a big mansion in Beijing.

Spending two hundred million a year to court a woman? Was he Xiangzuanle ?!

Worse, people actually believed this absurd news—everyone tagged Yu Yanli, annoying him so much that he finally replied.

【Fake news. I give people stones.】

This clearly sarcastic remark somehow confused some trolls—or they pretended not to understand, deliberately stoking the fire.

They mocked Yu Yanli for his poor origins, claiming he lacked the rumored generosity and was instead stingy and cheap, unwilling to spend on women, even spreading rumors that he invited women to hotels and split the room fee with them.

This was so absurd that only Yu Yanli’s haters believed it; ordinary netizens ignored it.

But Fan Xiaopang couldn’t stand it and wanted to challenge Zhang Ziyi’s image as a billionaire who spent lavishly.

So she posted a photo on Weibo—a jewelry cabinet with multiple tiers filled with all kinds of jewelry and ornaments, mostly made of jade and pure gold, with the caption: “Nice sun today, airing out my home’s stones.”

Netizens: “...”

They really were all “stones”!

Someone even made a joke: these yellow-green stones were poisonous—just looking at them made people envious.

At first, netizens were just joking, but later some serious investigators dug deep, combining past Weibo posts, early blogs, and interviews to thoroughly examine whether Yu Yanli was truly generous, what gifts he’d given women, and to whom.

Fan Xiaopang was the most exposed—she loved taking photos and enjoyed subtly showing off.

The most famous was that Mercedes G-Class, and now this “stone” display—rough estimates put the value at tens of millions.

Just the dense gold jewelry and ornaments alone likely weighed several jin; at current gold prices, they probably approached a million.

The most valuable were the jade, jadeite, and diamond jewelry—since it was only one photo, exact values couldn’t be determined, but a few pieces looked dazzling; experts conservatively estimated each at least a million, possibly several million.

One heart-shaped jade pendant, which Fan Xiaopang wore once on the red carpet, was estimated at two to two and a half million.

Normally, celebrities wear jewelry on red carpets that’s borrowed, sponsored, or even high-quality fakes—no one bothers to publicly expose them.

But Fan Xiaopang wearing her own pieces—or keeping them after use—was rare.

Fan Xiaopang had them; Qin Lan had plenty too.

Qin Lan was exposed more because she frequently attended Teddy Sisterhood gatherings, often taking group photos where jade and pure gold jewelry were visible, even including the same bracelets and necklaces as Fan Xiaopang’s.

Dong Xuan was the most low-key of the three, but some details still surfaced.

But the most brutally exposed was Wang Ou.

This woman hadn’t revealed much at first—just a few jade pieces were noticed—but Wang Ou had long been rumored to be involved with Yu Yanli, which was expected.

But later, some genius dug up Wang Ou’s secret Weibo account.

On this account, she let loose, proudly boasting about being a mistress, gushing about how her benefactor treated her—cars, houses, gold, jadeite, cash allowances, handsome looks, strong build, great bedroom skills, and so on.

The craziest part? Somehow, she gathered all the golden hearts Yu Yanli had given her, Yang Rong, Bai Bing, and Wu Jiani, and boasted about “sisters united.”

After being exposed, Wang Ou immediately deleted all posts from that account—but the more she deleted, the more it looked like “I didn’t do it, but I did.”

Fortunately, it was a secret account, with no direct proof; since the parties denied it, everyone just treated it as entertainment, guessing who else was in the “sisterhood” with Wang Ou.

The serialized post on Tianya, which briefly mentioned Li Bingbing and Jiang Xin before halting, was later locked and archived, suspected to be silenced by some “Boss Yan.”

In reality, it had nothing to do with Yu Yanli—he was used to it; there were dozens of posts digging into him, and he didn’t care.

But some women didn’t want exposure, others didn’t want to know the details; together they pressured the poster and Tianya, who compromised due to legal concerns.

This incident, besides giving Yu Yanli more teasing material and making Wang Ou briefly infamous, had limited impact—Zhang Ziyi still dominated the headlines.

Before Ink Splatter Gate faded, Zhang Ziyi was exposed in a fake-donation scandal.

In May 2008, Zhang Ziyi claimed to have donated one million, but part of the money never arrived; later at the Cannes Film Festival, she ran a similar fundraising campaign, establishing her own foundation overseas—but made no actual donations.

Fake donation, especially tied to the May incident, was far worse than any petty gossip about being a mistress.

The former was merely a personal moral flaw, damaging only Zhang Ziyi’s image.

The latter rose to the level of public trust and social conscience, causing widespread negative effects on charity and society, possibly even legal consequences, delivering a catastrophic blow to Zhang Ziyi’s career.

Then came the seduction scandal—this was kicking her while she was down.

Jet Li, promoting “Confucius,” admitted that during the filming of “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” he was seduced by some co-stars—many assumed it was Zhang Ziyi.

But this seduction scandal was vague and had little impact; most people still remembered the 2009 beach scandal.

That incident greatly damaged Zhang Ziyi’s reputation and was the primary reason many disliked her; Ink Splatter Gate and the fake-donation scandal quickly tanked her public image, building on the beach scandal’s foundation.

Thus, following Yu Yanli’s “Triple Gate” scandal last year—blog gate, yacht gate, bankruptcy gate—Zhang Ziyi now had her own “Triple Gate.”

Counting the seduction scandal and the ongoing “Snow Flower Secret” casting controversy, Zhang Ziyi might have a “Quintuple Gate.”

She even earned a new nickname: “Gate Auntie (Yi),” and Yu Yanli gained the nickname “Gate Master (Li).”

But this nickname paled beside “Cavalry Yan,” “Bingbing Stick,” “Selling-Porn King,” “Yan Cannon,” or “Boss Yan”—it never caught on, and didn’t even match the popularity of the netizens’ joke nickname “Stone Brother.”

The birth of “Gate Auntie” delighted Sister Suo and Sister Lian.

Sister Suo was Fan Xiaopang—because she started as a maid, rivals among the Four Dan and Two Bing loved to mock her with “Golden Lock,” a derogatory term; now some called her “Hat Sister,” referring to her many green hats.

Sister Lian was Li Bingbing—she once called herself the “white lotus” of the entertainment circle, was mocked endlessly, and the term became a slur.

Others had their own slurs: Zhou Young Master was “Tank,” referencing her height and some dirty rumors; Little Yanzi was “Shit” and “Poison,” one for her past, the other for her box-office curse.

Xu Cai’nv had no special nickname, though “Cai’nv” itself was sometimes mocked, used both sincerely and ironically.

Before “Gate Auntie,” “Grape” and “International” were Zhang Ziyi’s key words—but now “Gate Auntie” was overtaking them.

The reason Zhang Ziyi was considered fallen, and why the Two Bing were happiest, was that the Two Bing were currently at their peak; the other Four Dan and Two Bing were somewhat suppressed, but Zhang Ziyi had international clout and solid awards, barely holding them off.

Now, with Zhang Ziyi drowning in scandals, she’d be lucky to survive unscathed—the Two Bing had their chance to surpass and top her.

In fact, the Two Bing had already begun dividing up Zhang Ziyi’s resources.

Fan Xiaopang targeted commercial endorsements.

Zhang Ziyi carried the international-star aura and was one of the few among the Four Dan and Two Bing who could compete with Fan Xiaopang in certain commercial deals.

Now that Zhang Ziyi had crashed, many endorsements would likely be canceled; few domestic actresses were qualified to replace her—Fan Xiaopang was the top choice.

Li Bingbing targeted Zhang’s film and TV resources.

Especially the rumored casting change for “Snow Flower Secret”—Li Bingbing knew Madame Deng and was actively reaching out, riding her recent Golden Horse win, possibly replacing Zhang.

Too bad Wang Jing’s “The Grandmaster” had already been shooting for over half a year; though rumors said progress was slow, a casting change was unlikely—or Li Bingbing would have wanted that role even more.

As the Two Bing moved to divide the spoils, the other Four Dan and Two Bing weren’t willing to fall behind.

As the saying goes: when a whale dies, ten thousand creatures thrive!

Over the past two years, Zhang Ziyi had quietly become mainland China’s top actress—without Gong Li overshadowing her, she could be called the top Chinese actress.

This scale was too vast for the Two Bing to consume alone—or too quickly to fully seize; the others could all grab some scraps.

Once they were full, their unused resources trickled down, along with leftovers from the scramble.

These scraps were worthless to the Four Dan and Two Bing, but valuable to lower-tier actresses; when those actresses were fed, they passed resources further down.

This was how the top fell and everyone ate—Zhang Ziyi, single-handedly, energized half the entertainment industry…

…

Tuanjiehu, Apartment

“No next time.”

Yu Yanli glared at Wang Ou, who nodded, then dutifully cleaned up after him.

Wang Ou’s secret account leak had caused Yu Yanli some trouble, especially because Qin, Dong, and Fan were jealous and came after him.

Normally, he’d ignore it—but right now Qin and Dong were pregnant, and he couldn’t afford to anger them; his anger had to be directed at Wang Ou.

After a while, Yu Yanli went to shower; Wang Ou sighed in relief, then angrily grabbed Yang Rong, who was smirking beside her.

“All you do is laugh—you didn’t even speak up for me.”

“What else did you want me to do?”

Yang Rong rolled her eyes: “I came all the way from Shanghai to help you out.”

After Wang Ou messed up, she knew she’d be punished, so she begged for help—she dragged Yang Rong from Shanghai, even reconciled with the distant Wu Jiani to reform “Ou Ni Jiang,” and urgently called Bai Bing.

She tried every trick, rotating combinations, groveling and serving Yu Yanli for days until he finally cooled down.

"If you hadn't been uncooperative, and we'd teamed up, I might have been fine already."

Wang Ou had barely finished speaking when Yang Rong spat at her: "Go team up with someone else—you're not dragging me into this."

This time, Wang Ou’s alt account exposed four Golden Core cultivators; the sisters united, sparking wild speculation across the industry about which sisters were involved—Yang Rong, who was extremely close to Wang Ou, naturally wasn’t spared.

In fact, she was still angry at Wang Ou.

If Wang Ou hadn’t claimed Yan Li was furious, and the situation hadn’t been dire, begging her desperately, she never would’ve come to help Wang Ou.

"Good Rongrong, Sister Rong."

Wang Ou clung to Yang Rong, pouting; the latter remained firm: "No way."

She also reminded Wang Ou: "You’d better be careful. Even if you get past Yan Li, the other three won’t be easy to deal with."

In the past, when Wang Ou gathered allies, Qin, Dong, and Fan turned a blind eye, pretending not to notice.

But this time, Wang Ou went too far. More importantly, they’d learned some details about her privileges—far exceeding what the three had imagined.

She actually turned pimping into a real business!

Whether it’s suppression or punishment, Wang Ou will definitely suffer consequences. Even though Qin, Dong, and Fan fight fiercely among themselves, the moment they sense a threat, they’ll unite instantly.

"Pfft, if I can’t fight them, I can at least avoid them—I’ll just lie low for a while."

Wang Ou spoke with a boastful tone, yet uttered a cowardly line—she truly couldn’t challenge Qin, Dong, and Fan, let alone all three together.

But their ability to effectively strike her was limited—mainly because of Yan Li.

Especially since she’s willing to retreat and avoid direct conflict, using softness to overcome hardness, Yan Li won’t let her suffer major losses.

For the past two years, Wang Ou has thrived, enjoying constant favor, precisely because she understood Yan Li’s psychology and knew how to position herself.

She’s sensible, so Yan Li protects her; Qin, Dong, and Fan may scold her, but they won’t go for the kill.

"You’re truly shameless."

Yang Rong scoffed; Wang Ou replied: "That’s called wisdom."

Wang Ou is quite satisfied with her current ecological niche. Though she’s far behind those three, as long as she avoids them, she doesn’t have to kowtow—she’s the boss in her little circle.

If targeted, she can simply take a break. This time, she also received some of the original shares distributed by Yi’an.

Given her seniority, fame, and Yan Li’s favor, her share allocation is among the largest—worth at least tens of millions, massively boosting her net worth.

Under these circumstances, Wang Ou—who never lacked money—has lost some of her drive to hustle.

Even if Qin, Dong, and Fan didn’t target her, she might’ve taken time off anyway; now, she can go with the flow and even earn brownie points with Yan Li.

She’s long envied Yang Rong, who travels and plays whenever she’s free—it’s her turn to enjoy herself.

"Aren’t you afraid that after enjoying yourself, you’ll lose your second-sister position?"

Yang Rong asked. Yi’an now has a rising star in Yang Mi; Wang Ou is barely holding her own even while fully focused—if she takes a break, Yang Mi will likely overtake her.

"Then let her take it."

Yan Li stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair: "There was never any need to compete with Yang Mi."

Elevating Yang Mi benefits the company. Yan Li separates public and private interests—Wang Ou lacks both the ability and the drive; there’s no point standing in the way.

Aside from Fan Xiaopang’s special case, Yan Li generally doesn’t support his women being overly ambitious in their careers.

If everyone’s busy chasing careers, what’s the point of having him? He can’t even be found when they need him.

So, moderate career development is fine—but no need to turn yourself into a career-driven woman.

The lifestyles of Qin, Dong, Yang Rong, Hu Siyan, and others are exactly what Yan Li supports: one or two films a year, some other activities and hobbies, relaxing without being idle, never overwhelmed.

Even Fan Xiaopang, Yan Li has advised her—but Fan is a workaholic, unable to sit still.

In Yan Li’s view, Wang Ou should’ve stepped aside for Yang Mi long ago; she just held onto her pride, and since Yi’an’s IPO needed stars, he didn’t mention it.

Now that Yi’an’s IPO is imminent and more stars have been brought in through contract splits, Wang Ou can easily shift her mindset.

"Exactly."

Wang Ou took the towel and gently wiped Yan Li’s hair: "If she wants to be second sister, let her have it. She earns money, I enjoy life."

In truth, Wang Ou still felt some resentment—but Yang Mi’s momentum was too strong, and the company’s support overwhelming; she could only use this to save face.

It’s not that I can’t beat her—it’s that I don’t want to. After all, she’s practically a second madam; why should I fight with an employee?

"You’re just a coward."

Yang Rong sneered. She’d known Wang Ou for years, their bond unshakable—she knew this sly chicken too well: all bluster on the outside, cowardice within—when faced with real opposition, she’d just duck her head.