APCF – Chapter 42 Video Call

After Fang Di Media released a statement, within three hours, Xu Sheng posted on Weibo, stating that the so-called “Xu surname artist smearing Qi Xingchen and looking for a financial backer” was completely false. It was a publicity stunt designed by Noah Entertainment in collaboration with Qi Xingchen, aimed at boosting their fame while conveniently tarnishing Xu Sheng’s reputation, killing two birds with one stone.

The crowd analyzing the situation seemed to agree that this was likely the case.

First of all, the statement from Fang Di Media was too blunt—what kind of company would risk offending the main client by being so transparent? It just didn’t make sense!

“Secondly, under that Weibo post from Fang Di, the comments speculating that Xu Sheng spent money on marketing were too obviously orchestrated,” An Ran said as she walked toward the aquarium with Qi Xingchen, continuing her analysis. “I clicked on a few of them, and the accounts seemed random. Their profiles had hardly any posts, just a few comments like those from ‘zombie accounts’—definitely very, very obvious.”

Qi Xingchen nodded, and An Ran continued, “Right now, the support for you and Xu Sheng seems about evenly split. But from what I’ve observed, more people are leaning toward Xu Sheng. Look at these comments.”

She handed her phone to Qi Xingchen.

—Shengshi Taohua Kai: “This guy Qi looks so innocent, didn’t expect him to be a black-hearted lotus. He’s playing the trick of hyping himself and then shifting the blame to others so well. Why didn’t he spend a little more on buying better water army? Looks like he got killed by Sheng Ge’s counterattack, hehe.”

—Adobe: “Maybe after paying Fang Di, there was no money left to buy water army (dog emoji).”

—Wang Xiaofei: “I regret buying stocks in Qi Xingchen after watching ‘Poor Travel’. He’s eating human blood steamed buns like it’s nothing, wish him to forever stay on the 18th tier.”

—Xingqi Ba: “You’re not allowed to talk about my Xingxing brother, he’s the most innocent and clever! (this comment is a 50-cent comment)”

Qi Xingchen glanced at the comments and pushed the phone back to An Ran.

“Think of a way, Xingxing, we can’t let them pick sides,” An Ran said. “Once they label you with the ‘hype’ tag, you’ll be crushed as a black-hearted lotus.”

Qi Xingchen muttered, “Mm.”

“Why aren’t you worried?” An Ran stopped in front of him, her brows slightly furrowed. “As a new rising star like you, you can have scandals, but you absolutely can’t have any stains on your character. This will affect your future in the industry!”

“Alright, don’t worry,” Qi Xingchen snatched her bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I already have a solution. Let’s see how it plays out.”

After speaking, Qi Xingchen stepped into the White Whale Hall.

Immediately, he experienced what it felt like to be the “center of attention.”

The entire White Whale Hall, inside and out, front and back, from Shang Yuliang to the cleaning aunties, everyone was staring at him… and Xu Sheng, who had just arrived on set.

Yesterday, Qi Xingchen was accused of seeking a financial backer, but it had little impact on Heart of the Ocean. After all, filming had just started, and the project wouldn’t go through approval and air on TV for months, so by then, the issue would likely have blown over.

This morning, Fang Di Media issued a statement, which also didn’t affect Heart of the Ocean. In fact, if handled well, it could even serve as indirect promotion!

However, after Xu Sheng’s clarification, the situation became a lot more interesting—both of them were in the same drama, and whether it was Xu Sheng buying marketing or Qi Xingchen being smeared as a black-hearted lotus, they had to work together daily. How would they get along?

The entire crew watched this drama unfold with amusement, while Shang Yuliang, the director, was filled with bitterness.

“Everyone, get back to work!” Shang Yuliang shouted through a megaphone. Seeing everyone hurriedly return to their positions, he pointed at Qi Xingchen and Xu Sheng. “You two, come with me.”

With that, he tossed the megaphone aside and entered his rest room.

Qi Xingchen lowered his head and obediently walked over.

Xu Sheng quickly caught up with him, and Qi Xingchen heard a slightly smug voice from behind: “Qi Xingchen, stop struggling. You can’t beat me.”

Qi Xingchen pretended not to hear, continuing to walk straight into Shang Yuliang’s rest room, looking very obedient.

Once the three left, the crew, who had been holding back their gossip all morning, finally erupted with excitement.

“This is so interesting, who do you think started this?”

“I don’t think it was Xingxing. He’s too well-behaved.”

“It’s not so certain. Though I like Xingxing too, we shouldn’t blindly trust him. In the entertainment industry, there’s no heat without publicity. Maybe his company forced him into this.”

“It could also have been him controlling it. Think about it—if the artist didn’t agree, who could force them? And look at who his friend is—Liu Ziyu! Maybe it was Liu Ziyu who led him to do the publicity stunt!”

“…”

“Let’s get back to work!” Hearing all the speculations, Tao Tao couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m thinking of getting in the water to try dancing with the belugas. Director Zhou, can we do a one-take shot?”

With Tao Tao’s words, the buzz in the White Whale Hall died down, replaced by the sounds of camera equipment being moved, the coordinator giving instructions, and the splashing of water.

Half an hour later, Shang Yuliang finally finished his harsh reprimand. Qi Xingchen, with his head down, poured tea for him.

“Don’t try to flatter me!” Shang Yuliang spat angrily. “Look at the mess you’ve made! I don’t care what grudges you two have, but when you’re on set, you leave all that behind! Acting comes first!”

“Understood, Director Shang,” Qi Xingchen replied honestly.

“I’m not blaming Xiao Qi,” Xu Sheng said.

Shang Yuliang sighed deeply. “Alright, go back to filming. You guys are really making me mad. By the way, Xiao Qi, how are you prepared for your scene today?”

“I’ll give it a try,” Qi Xingchen said. “Let me just get in the right mindset.”

As the third male lead, Qi Xingchen had only two major scenes: one where Lin Xiao confesses his feelings to the female lead Ji Yan and is rejected, and the other, which was the scene they were about to shoot, where Xiangxiang, a sea lion, dies from illness, and Lin Xiao’s emotional outburst follows.

Shang Yuliang led Qi Xingchen back to the monitor, picked up the walkie-talkie, and said, “Is scene 32 ready?”

“Lighting set!”

“Camera 3 ready!”

“Cameras 6 and 8 ready!”

“Good,” Shang Yuliang ordered, “Roll sound!”

With a clap from the assistant director, the scene at the sea lion training area began. Four supporting characters surrounded Xiangxiang, who was lying on the ground. Each of them had red eyes.

Xiangxiang, an old sea lion, had been playful, cute, and full of tricks, but these changes couldn’t hide the fact that its life was nearing its end.

After one performance, Lin Xiao noticed that Xiangxiang’s strength was fading. A checkup revealed that Xiangxiang had late-stage liver cancer, and Baisha Port decided to retire him to live out his remaining days peacefully.

However, the cancer spread quickly, and Xiangxiang’s vitality rapidly declined. He grew more and more lethargic.

This morning, when the other trainers brought fish to its mouth, Xiangxiang looked at the fish, turned his head, and lost the desire—or perhaps the strength—to eat.

When the trainers saw this, they all understood: Xiangxiang’s life was coming to an end.

“Has Lin Xiao been notified?”

“He’s on his way.”

The two trainers exchanged a glance and fell silent.

Among everyone at the aquarium, Lin Xiao and Xiangxiang had the closest bond. They didn’t know how Lin Xiao would feel seeing this.

“Where’s Xiangxiang?!”

At that moment, the back door was suddenly slammed open. Lin Xiao, who had just rushed from class and hadn’t even had time to change into his work clothes, dashed into the crowd.

He immediately spotted his brother lying on the ground.

Xiangxiang seemed to sense his arrival, twitching the whiskers on either side of its nose.

Lin Xiao’s eyes reddened instantly.

But he didn’t cry. Instead, he smiled as he knelt beside Xiangxiang. “Brother, I’m sorry, did I come too late?”

Slap. Xiangxiang slapped his own belly twice.

“You say I didn’t come late… but… but I feel like I was late. I should’ve come to the aquarium sooner. I should’ve known you earlier. I’ve missed so many years of your life, so many performances…”

Slap, Xiangxiang stretched out his paw and, this time, instead of slapping his belly, he patted Lin Xiao’s arm.

Then, it winked at Lin Xiao.

It seemed to say: “It’s not too late, as long as we meet, it’s never too late.”

It also seemed to say: “I’m sorry, brother, I can’t continue to accompany you on your journey. My life has come to an end.”

“If I could choose my next life, I would still want to be your sea lion.”

“I love you.”

The damp sensation on his forearm disappeared, and Xiangxiang’s paw slowly slid down.

Along with its paw, those eyes, like black jewels, which had once been so bright, began to fade.

From now on, they would never open again.

They would remain closed forever.

“Ah—” Lin Xiao collapsed onto Xiangxiang’s belly, crying uncontrollably!

His heartbreaking sobs echoed throughout the whole venue, tightening the hearts of everyone present, including Shang Yuliang, the director.

“…Cut.” Shang Yuliang took a deep breath, signaling that the scene was finished.

The supporting actors wiped their eyes and hurried to help Qi Xingchen… but all four of them couldn’t move him!

Helpless, Shang Yuliang stood up and walked over to him. “Xiao Qi, take it easy. Xiangxiang’s fine. He just got a sedative to help with the scene.”

Qi Xingchen, still in the position he had collapsed in, replied, “I’m fine, Director Shang. You go on with your work. I just want to stay with Xiangxiang for a while.”

Shang Yuliang shook his head helplessly. He knew that Qi Xingchen had gotten too deep into character and couldn’t snap out of it just yet.

It was a common issue for new actors—either they found it hard to get into character, or they invested too much emotion and became unable to detach themselves from it after the scene.

This could only be eased by the actor themselves. The director couldn’t help much. Shang Yuliang patted his back. “Xiao Qi, you did well. You’ve improved a lot. I’m very satisfied. Keep it up.” With that, he returned to directing the next shot.

He repeated the word “very” three times, but Qi Xingchen didn’t hear it. His mind was still with Xiangxiang.

The disobedient Xiangxiang, the playful Xiangxiang, the one who slapped his belly.

It wasn’t until he didn’t know how much time had passed that he sat up with red eyes. An Ran, who had been waiting by his side, handed him a wet wipe. “Director Shang said you have the afternoon off. Let’s head back to the hotel. Xiangxiang has to go back to the pool too.”

“Mm,” Qi Xingchen nodded, kissing the half-awake Xiangxiang. “Let’s go.”

An Ran guided him back to the hotel in a dazed state. To avoid worrying those around him, he ate a little, then crawled into bed and slept a sleep that he couldn’t tell whether it was a dream or reality.

At six in the evening, Fang Di Media posted again.

The Weibo post contained only two images: one was a screenshot of Fang Di’s public account receiving payment, with the payer’s personal account listed, and the account holder’s name was Xu Sheng’s agent.

The other image was a screenshot of the account operator discussing how to blacken Qi Xingchen with someone else. After investigation, it was confirmed that the other person was Xu Sheng’s agent.

It was as solid as it could get.

The shocking twist was sensational, sparking a frenzy online. The discussion on Weibo reached a peak!

Qi Xingchen had known this would be the outcome, as he was certain that Qi Yunxiao would never make the foolish mistake of buying fake online commenters. He trusted his older brother completely.

An Ran happily came to share the good news, and Liu Ziyu called from abroad to congratulate him. But despite their joy, Qi Xingchen couldn’t bring himself to be happy.

In the end, the emotional impact of that scene was too deep. He still couldn’t fully detach from the role.

Around nine in the evening, Bo Ye finished recording a small evening show and noticed he hadn’t received any messages from his little fan all day. He typed: [Any night scenes today?]

Five minutes later, Xingxing replied: [No, I had the afternoon off. I slept all afternoon and forgot to message you.]

Bo Ye stared at the screen, frowning, his fingers brushing over the screen before he instructed Allen: “Turn on the lights in the car.”

“Huh? Why turn on the lights? Are you going to take a selfie?”

Bo Ye shook his head, not replying.

The next moment, Qi Xingchen’s phone rang with an unusual notification sound—

[Bo Ye invites you to a video call.]