APCF – Chapter 129 A Bet

The fact that his idol was actually willing to play a supporting role for him—whether in the past or now—was something Qi Xingchen wouldn’t have dared to imagine even if he cracked his head open.

Still dazed, Qi Xingchen asked, “Can you say that again?”

Bo Ye repeated, “I’ll be your supporting actor.”

“That didn’t sound appropriate…”

Bo Ye, half amused and half exasperated, replied, “What part of that isn’t appropriate? What rule says I can’t play a supporting role?”

There really wasn’t any ridiculous rule like that. Qi Xingchen was stunned for another moment. Bo Ye couldn’t take it anymore and flicked him on the forehead. “Hurry up and contact the director—it’s been months, who knows if he’s even available now?”

“Oh right!” Qi Xingchen jolted like he’d been shocked awake. He quickly dug up his message history with the director and dialed the number.

Luckily, the director and screenwriter hadn’t given up on the script. After Qi Xingchen, they had pitched it to a few other film companies here and there. Unfortunately, with the entertainment industry in a slump, companies only liked to invest in projects that were already trending or aligned with mainstream aesthetics.

After all, the point of making movies is to make money. And where does that money come from? From the audience.

Acrobatics had long since fallen out of fashion. Apart from the elderly, the only people who might watch such a film were boyfriends who had to randomly pick a movie on the spot when taking their girlfriends out and ended up with no other options.

Could investors really count on two or three hundred million boys across the country to all make that kind of rookie mistake?

Of course not.

Even finding two hundred million boys who have girlfriends in the first place might be a stretch.

But having “Last Night’s Stardust” changed everything. That title alone came with built-in buzz. With it, the genre and topic could be completely overlooked.

The director and screenwriter weren’t from H City, so after a brief chat, Qi Xingchen told them to fly over before tomorrow. Once they agreed, Bo Ye and Qi Xingchen immediately drove to Noah Studio.

This was their first time preparing to shoot a film, and neither of them knew anything. It wasn’t until they spoke with Chen Noah that they learned they needed to first get the project approved—and for that, they needed a proposal.

Qi Xingchen looked at Bo Ye. “I’m a science major.”

Bo Ye helplessly replied, “Same here.”

Chen Noah: “…Fine. I’ll write one for you to try.”

Half an hour later, the two left Noah Studio with the framework of a proposal in hand. Once the director and screenwriter arrived, they’d just need to fill in the details.

Since they were already out and it wasn’t dark yet, Qi Xingchen asked Bo Ye to accompany him to the hospital.

He hadn’t seen Tao Xuan since the new year and missed the kid a bit. He also had a few things he wanted to say.

At the hospital, Tao Xuan was in the middle of stretching with a yoga band in the center of his room. Qi Xingchen let out a surprised “wow,” saying, “You’re already using equipment?”

“Brother Xingxing!” Tao Xuan tossed aside the yoga band and lunged forward. “I’m getting ready for next month’s surgery!”

The way he pounced was very much like Qi Jiaze—Qi Xingchen felt a bit exasperated. Why couldn’t he learn the good things? Why pick up all of Jiaze’s bad habits?

Right after that, Bo Ye peeled Tao Xuan off of him.

Qi Xingchen finally felt lighter and gave Tao Xuan a quick once-over. “You look good. Did you find a donor?”

“Mm-hmm! Professor Liang found one for me!” Tao Xuan smiled shyly, then added, “Brother, you haven’t visited in so long… is that the brother-in-law Jiaze was talking about behind you?”

Qi Xingchen: “…Yeah.”

“Hello, brother-in-law!” Tao Xuan greeted brightly.

Whether from his expression or his behavior, it was obvious how happy he was—Qi Xingchen couldn’t help but smile along with him. Tao Xuan finding a kidney donor was the only piece of good news they’d received in a long while.

He led Tao Xuan to sit down in a chair by the hospital bed. Qi Xingchen opened his mouth, wanting to speak. Tao Xuan, always perceptive, caught on to his hesitation and asked first, “Brother Xingxing, is there something you want to tell me?”

Qi Xingchen did want to talk to him—but didn’t know how to express it.

“It’s okay. Just treat me like Jiaze and say it directly.”

Since he said that, Qi Xingchen no longer hesitated. He chose his words carefully and asked tentatively, “Xuan, if one day your sister and I end up on opposing sides… would that make you sad?”

“Opposing sides…” Tao Xuan paused for a moment. “Did my sister… do something bad?”

From their usual interactions, Tao Xuan could tell that Qi Xingchen was the kind of person who avoided conflicts if at all possible. If someone like him ended up on bad terms with another person, that person must have done something unforgivable.

Qi Xingchen didn’t expect Tao Xuan to be so perceptive. His chest tightened. Still, he didn’t plan to tell him the whole truth. After all, Tao Xuan hadn’t recovered yet—if his mood were affected and it worsened his condition, it wouldn’t be worth it.

Besides, Tao Xuan had made a promise with Qi Jiaze to take the college entrance exam together. For students in their final year of high school, the exam was everything—he couldn’t afford any distractions.

After a few seconds of thought, Qi Xingchen said, “Not long ago, your sister hurt some ordinary people in order to achieve her goal. She also hurt me and the people around me. The Qi family suffered losses because of it. This debt—I have to settle it.”

Tao Xuan’s expression showed a moment of struggle, but it quickly faded. “I wouldn’t be sad just because you and my sister are on opposite sides. What makes me sad… is that she actually chose to hurt others to get what she wanted.”

Such a mature child. Qi Xingchen’s heart ached, and he reached out to ruffle Tao Xuan’s soft hair.

“Brother…” Tao Xuan’s voice trembled unconsciously. “When you say she hurt people… did she kill anyone?”

Qi Xingchen didn’t know how to answer and chose to downplay it. “My family is still alive.”

Tao Xuan softly murmured an acknowledgement, not daring to ask further. Just then, Qi Jiaze came in. Qi Xingchen told him to keep Tao Xuan company and ask about his studies, then left with Bo Ye.

On the way back, Qi Xingchen kept thinking: When this well-behaved kid finds out that his sister caused a fire that killed or injured over fifty people… how devastated will he be?

The next day, they continued working separately. Qi Yujie went to the company, while Qi Xingchen and Bo Ye took the proposal draft to the small rental house An Ran had arranged.

By the time they arrived, the director and screenwriter had already been chatting with An Ran for a while. Upon seeing Qi Xingchen, the director’s first words were, “Thank you.”

And as he spoke, he actually started crying. “If it weren’t for you… I would’ve already given up…”

An Ran was startled by his tearful display.

Qi Xingchen handed him a tissue.

Naturally, the screenwriter understood the script he had created better than Qi Xingchen did. Once the director calmed down, they worked together to flesh out the details in the proposal.

Once everything was finalized, Qi Xingchen solemnly signed his name in the “Producer” field.

And just like that, the first project of Night Star Media—the first movie Qi Xingchen would produce—was quietly born in this unassuming little rental house.

As a professional agent, An Ran naturally had more industry connections than Qi Xingchen. Once the rough proposal was ready, she immediately began making calls to major film companies.

Using the “first collaboration between the stars of Last Night’s Stardust” as a selling point, every company was interested. Some didn’t even bother asking about the film’s theme or plot—they just wanted to know the budget.

But when An Ran named an investment of 800 million yuan, most companies began to hesitate, saying they needed to think it over.

After all, 800 million wasn’t a small number. Looking at the current film market—how many films actually gross more than a billion after all the hype settles down?

For a small literary drama to open by asking for 800 million, it wasn’t that companies didn’t want to invest. They just wanted to use “thinking it over” as an excuse to drive the price down.

But Qi Xingchen was determined to get the full 800 million. He signaled to An Ran: “Keep calling.”

“Got it. The next film company boss is a friend of President Qi’s. Should be easier to talk to.”

“Big brother’s friend?” Qi Xingchen asked. “Which company?”

“Dongfang Films.”

Oh… Qi Xingchen remembered now. My Era had been produced by Dongcheng TV, a subsidiary of Dongfang Films.

Sure enough, just as An Ran expected, when she mentioned the amount, Dongfang Films’ CEO Ji Yuedong didn’t bother with polite evasion. He said bluntly, “I’d have to be an idiot to believe a 2D art film needs 800 million in funding.”

“We didn’t mean it like that,” An Ran said with a forced smile. “We mainly wanted to invest more in the film’s promotion…”

“No need to explain,” Ji Yuedong cut her off. “I can invest the money, but I don’t like fighting battles I can’t win. How about this: let’s make a bet. You issue a directed allotment of 800 million shares to Dongfang. By year-end, if Night Star’s stock price hasn’t risen by 1.5 times, you buy back my shares at double the original price.”

In other words, Dongfang would now invest 800 million yuan in Night Star. But the condition was that by the end of the year, those shares had to be worth 1.2 billion. If not, Qi Xingchen would have to buy them back for 1.6 billion yuan—cold, hard cash.

“What do you think?” Ji Yuedong said. “I’ll give you one week to consider it.”

An Ran looked at Qi Xingchen, unsure what to do.

“No need—not a week,” Qi Xingchen gritted his teeth. “As long as you’re available, I can sign anytime.”

There were only seven months left until the end of the year. If they scheduled the film now and used a few connections to push it through review, it could be released as early as December.

Fortunately, literary films are quick to shoot and simple to edit—they don’t take much time. Since the other party set the year-end condition, they must’ve already calculated the timeline.

Just as Qi Xingchen finished speaking, the voice on the other end of the line let out a soft chuckle. “Good. You really are Yunxiao’s younger brother.”

Ji Yuedong paused, then added, “Since you’re so decisive, I’ll be straightforward too. Send me your account number—I’ll wire the money right now.”

“What? You’re transferring the money now?”

Qi Xingchen froze. “What about the directed share issuance?”

“The head of the securities department will coordinate with your side… Good luck. I believe you can bring Yunxiao back.”

It wasn’t until after the call ended that Qi Xingchen realized—this wasn’t about the investment. Ji Yuedong genuinely wanted to help the Qi family.

Just as Liang Jing had said—at a time like this, people willing to extend a hand to the Qi family weren’t doing it purely out of kindness. They were helping because the Qi family had always done right by others, building goodwill over time.

And now, in their time of trouble, people were willing to help.

About ten minutes later, Bo Ye’s phone buzzed—the 800 million yuan had arrived.

With that, the 5.2 billion yuan fine was finally covered.

Qi Xingchen couldn’t wait another moment. He told An Ran to start assembling a production team for the director and dragged Bo Ye along to go pay the fine.

After paying, they could finally release Dad Qi, whose detention period had expired. The registration process was slow, and Qi Xingchen paced back and forth outside the detention center the entire time.

Finally, when he saw his father walk out, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He rushed forward and hugged him tightly. “Dad!”

Dad Qi coughed from the strength of the hug and patted his back. “You’re such a big kid already. Still acting like a baby? Don’t cry. See? I’m fine.”

“I—I was so worried about you,” Qi Xingchen choked out. “Did you eat well? Were you able to sleep? Did anyone bully you in there? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, everything was fine.” Dad Qi’s eyes reddened as he answered, “If I had to say what was hard… it was just not seeing you all for so long. I missed you.”

“Mmm… Dad, I missed you too.”

It seemed like ever since leaving the orphanage, Qi Xingchen had hardly cried. Dad Qi patted his back while eyeing the man behind him. “You must be Bo Ye?”

“Yes, hello, Uncle.”

“Thank you for accompanying Xingxing. I’m very grateful. Come, support me—we’ll go home first.”

Dad Qi had no idea what had happened during his absence. After returning home, Qi Xingchen gave him a brief summary.

When Dad Qi heard that his eldest son had also been taken away, he was so furious that he threw his cane. But when he learned that Qi Yujie was managing the company all on her own, he was filled with pride and couldn’t stop praising her—“Who says women are inferior to men?”

After spending some time in detention, it was impossible for his health to remain unaffected. The cold and damp environment had given Dad Qi a lingering cough. The father and son hadn’t talked for long before the coughing became worse.

Since it wasn’t suitable to take him to a hospital right after his release, Qi Xingchen found him some medicine and helped him to bed to rest.

After personally watching his father fall asleep, Qi Xingchen went downstairs. Seeing Bo Ye on the sofa, his cheeks instantly flushed pink. “You didn’t see how ugly I looked when I cried, did you?”

Bo Ye quickly shook his head. “Nope.”

“Good.”

Qi Xingchen let out a long sigh of relief, sat down beside Bo Ye, and wrapped his arms around his arm. “My dad said he really likes you.”

Bo Ye joked, counting on his fingers, “Then the only one I haven’t passed yet is your big brother.”

After a pause, Bo Ye said, “Xingxing, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Qi Xingchen: “What is it?”

“Have you ever thought about… whether we’ll stay in the book, or go back to the real world?”

Qi Xingchen’s expression froze slightly.

He knew why Bo Ye was asking this—because in the past, Bo Ye hadn’t understood how deep his attachment to the Qi family ran. But now he did.

As for whether to stay in the book or return to reality—of course Qi Xingchen had thought about it.

“Brother Ye,” Qi Xingchen said softly, “Where do you want to be?”

“Me? I’ll go wherever you go.”

Qi Xingchen lowered his gaze. “Then once everything at home and with work is sorted, let’s talk it through properly, okay?”

“Mm,” Bo Ye smiled. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

Buzz buzz—buzz buzz—

Just as they were whispering to each other, Qi Xingchen’s phone suddenly rang. The caller ID showed Xu Changlin. He got up from Bo Ye and answered immediately: “Hello, Uncle Xu?”

“Xiao Qi, I’ve found evidence that Tao Tao hired someone to set the fire!”