CDJMM – Volume 4 – Chapter 7 Filming in the Interstellar Era (7)

Le Jing returned home and called Zhou Jinsen. The call was quickly answered.

He started by saying, “Sorry for causing trouble for you guys.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a bitter laugh. “You were too impulsive… but watching it was really satisfying.”

Even now, thinking about Shi Jing beating Bai Lang, Zhou Jinsen still felt a tingle on his scalp and a sense of exhilaration, as if he had drunk a bowl of ice-cold water in the height of summer—pure bliss!

He had wanted to do that for a long time!

It wasn’t just him; the rest of the crew also had long-standing grievances against Bai Lang but had been too restrained to act due to his powerful connections. This time, Shi Jing’s decisive beating of Bai Lang was a satisfying revenge, doing what they had always wanted but dared not do. The relief was immeasurable.

When Shi Jing walked out of the studio, the crew couldn’t openly comment but secretly felt pleased. Yet, they all doubted Shi Jing’s prospects.

After all, this moment of satisfaction could easily provoke Bai Lang into insane retaliation later!

Le Jing asked, “How’s the situation on your end now?”

Zhou Jinsen replied, “Bai Lang has been sent to the hospital. Director Li went with him. The entire studio has stopped work.”

“What are you planning?” he asked anxiously. “You hit Bai Lang this time; he won’t let it go easily. What did you mean by what you said before leaving?”

Le Jing smiled and didn’t answer Zhou Jinsen’s question. He just said, “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. This is a law-abiding society now—he can’t kill me.”

Zhou Jinsen sighed, “All he has to do is blacklist you. Do you even want to continue in this industry?”

Le Jing said, “Then I won’t. If this place won’t keep me, there’ll be somewhere else. Besides, I’ve always been treated badly in this crew; I didn’t really want to stay anyway.”

Zhou Jinsen sighed again. They exchanged a few casual words before hanging up.

Le Jing didn’t have to wait long before Sister Sun’s call came. As soon as it connected, she got straight to the point: “What did you film?”

He chuckled lightly. “What do you think I filmed?”

He couldn’t see her expression, but he heard heavy breathing on the other end. She was clearly struggling to control her anger. “I don’t care what you filmed. Have you thought about the consequences of releasing it?”

Le Jing calmly said, “I set up a small program. If I don’t log in for more than three days, the system will assume I’m dead and automatically release the videos and recordings exposing Bai Lang, along with my real-name complaint and a will, to all major social platforms…”

Sister Sun feigned calm. “Are you crazy? We have a powerful PR and legal team. Don’t think you can threaten us with a fake video.”

Le Jing smiled. “What do you think of this title: ‘Bai Tian Energy Arbitrarily Manipulates Chinese Law; Entertainment Industry a Hidden Hub for Laundering Black Money’? I plan to submit the report to the official Weibo of the national anti-crime task force. Do you think the state would protect an innocent citizen like me?”

Sister Sun could no longer maintain her composure and gritted her teeth: “…It’s inconvenient to discuss this over the phone. Let’s meet tomorrow.”

Le Jing couldn’t help but admire her professionalism. To prevent him from recording, she spoke meticulously, leaving no loopholes.

They arranged a time and place to meet the next day and ended the call.

To be honest, Le Jing had no intention of uploading Bai Lang’s incriminating videos and recordings. He was only trying to scare Sister Sun.

Like a nuclear weapon, these things only have deterrent power before being deployed—they make the other side hesitant, afraid to act rashly.

Uploading them online would certainly attract attention, garner support from righteous netizens, and could severely damage Bai Lang’s career.

But…

The public’s attention is fleeting. Once it fades and social focus shifts, even if Le Jing quietly died at home, no one would care. Bai Lang, despite losing his acting career, still had the wealth and backing of the Bai family to live a life of luxury.

Le Jing was powerless and had no capital to confront the Bai family. Acting on impulse would risk his life for temporary satisfaction—a move he would never make.

In the future, if Le Jing wanted to deal with Bai Lang, it would be with a single, decisive strike that left him no chance of recovery.

So Le Jing used Bai Lang’s careless words as leverage, dragging the Bai family into the matter.

The Bai family had grown into a massive entity. Regardless of any hidden methods they used, publicly they had to appear as law-abiding citizens, fully supporting the state’s policies.

It was easy to see that if Le Jing really uploaded Bai Lang’s reckless statements online, conspiracy-minded netizens would draw wild, shocking conclusions. The Bai family had only recently cleaned up their image; linking them to organized crime, tax evasion, and money laundering would draw massive scrutiny from netizens and government authorities. If rival companies joined in, spreading Bai family scandals, the Bai family would be in serious trouble.

Even if Le Jing faced retaliation from the Bai family, Bai Lang wouldn’t gain anything either.

After all, Bai Sr. had many illegitimate children. Even if he favored Bai Lang, he would likely punish his son severely to protect the family’s interests.

And that was exactly what Bai Lang did not want.

Le Jing had nothing to lose, but Bai Lang had too much at stake—fans, wealth, the Bai family’s power. Losing it all would hurt him more than death.

So no matter how angry Bai Lang was, he would have to calm down and negotiate with Le Jing.

Le Jing stroked his chin and smiled, thinking that this time he not only didn’t need to pay compensation but might even receive a substantial hush money payment.

As expected, things went just as Le Jing thought.

When they met the next day, Bai Lang, despite glaring at Le Jing with murderous hatred, graciously stated he wouldn’t report Shi Jing or Zhang Ting.

Under Sister Sun’s urging gaze, Bai Lang gritted his teeth and squeezed out, “I can offer some financial compensation as well.”

Sister Sun continued, “This is the best show of our sincerity. Mr. Shi, you should show yours too.”

They were in one of Bai Lang’s secret residences. When Le Jing arrived, the bodyguards thoroughly searched him to ensure he had no recording devices.

Le Jing lazily leaned against the sofa. “As long as you don’t target me deliberately in the future, I won’t upload the video.”

Sister Sun shook her head. “No, you must give me the video and destroy all backups.”

Le Jing laughed, leaning slightly forward. “Even if I destroy all the backups in front of you, would you believe me? Wouldn’t you suspect I still have other copies hidden?”

Sister Sun was momentarily speechless. Le Jing had voiced the exact concern she had.

“So, there’s no point in wasting effort. We can sign an agreement: as long as you don’t interfere, I won’t release the video… Honestly, if I weren’t pushed into a corner, I wouldn’t want a life-or-death struggle with you. I value my life and don’t want the Bai family’s retaliation,” Le Jing sincerely said, meeting her hesitant gaze.

Sister Sun was convinced.

Indeed, if Bai Lang’s incriminating videos went online, Shi Jing wouldn’t benefit. The Bai family’s anger was too much for a powerless orphan to withstand.

However…

Sister Sun now deeply regretted it.

On set, this boy always seemed cheerful and easygoing, never angry despite being bossed around. She had heard from the crew that he had no background.

It made sense—if he had connections, why would he still be doing menial work at such low pay?

So when Bai Lang wanted to vent his anger, she immediately chose this boy. No power, no background, weak personality—perfect scapegoat.

But this kid, normally quiet, had the resolve of preferring death to compromise.

Indeed, the quiet dogs bite hardest.

But now, regret was useless. She had misjudged him; she had to swallow the consequences.

Finally, they agreed: Bai Lang would give Shi Jing and Zhang Ting 200,000 Xingbi each, and Shi Jing would ensure no one else saw the video. Breach of contract would carry legal consequences.

After Shi Jing left, Bai Lang roared in anger, flipping a table and pacing the room, breathing heavily.

“That brat dares to cross me! I won’t forgive him!” Bai Lang, red-eyed, turned to Sister Sun. “Sis, you know the most. Any ideas?”

Sister Sun had one.

“Don’t worry, A’Lang. He won’t have a good ending,” she said coldly. “He’ll never find work in the industry again.”

Bai Lang hesitated. “But he still has the video. If he goes all-in…?”

Sister Sun crossed her arms, confident. “Don’t worry. His future is long. Whatever job he finds, we just notify the person in charge to… take good care of him.”

Bai Lang understood. They exchanged a knowing smile. He continued, “Then naturally, he’ll suffer. They have many ways to make him miserable, and from start to finish, we have nothing to do with it. Even if he suspects us, there’s no evidence.”

Sister Sun nodded approvingly.

Understanding this, Bai Lang calmed down, eager to see Shi Jing trapped, desperate, forced to kneel and beg for mercy.

Hmph, just a lowly nobody, thinking a few videos could threaten him?

He wanted to make him understand what it meant for an arm to not be able to twist a thigh! He wanted to make him find it impossible to move in this industry, to suffer humiliation and torment, and to regret his actions today.

……

Le Jing didn’t go home first; he went to Sister Zhang’s place to transfer the compensation money to Zhang Ting.

Sister Zhang greeted him in and first served him tea, then sighed heavily, her face filled with worry: “Zhang Ting told me everything that happened. I’m sorry he caused you trouble.”

Le Jing smiled: “What are you saying? Zhang Ting is well-behaved. This time, it was the other party picking a fight and bullying him. He was only defending himself. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Sister Zhang shook her head with a bitter smile: “In this line, right or wrong doesn’t matter. Only power does. As long as you have power and influence, even if you said the sun is square, no one would oppose you.”

“Zhang Ting may not have done anything wrong, but the other party is from the Bai family and has a bad temper. This matter will definitely not end peacefully.”

Sister Zhang must have been a great beauty when she was young. But later, life was tough, and without proper care, her face now was lined with wrinkles, her brows and eyes carrying the weight of sorrow—a trace left by life’s hardships.

This woman had experienced storms in life beyond what ordinary people could imagine. She had endured countless hardships. Now, because her only son’s safety was at stake, her eyes filled with tears, and she even looked at Le Jing with a hint of despair: “Do you have contact with the other party? I want to reach out to apologize and see if we can settle this with money…”

“Mom!!” Zhang Ting stormed out of his room angrily: “I did nothing wrong! They bullied me; I was defending myself! Why do you want to apologize?”

“You don’t understand!” Zhang Yanfang closed her eyes, as if memories of countless sordid events from her youth were surfacing. If she hadn’t been headstrong and unyielding back then, how could she have ended up in such a degraded and disgusting state?

She opened her eyes, full of anguish: “This industry is just like this… just like this…”

Le Jing quickly interrupted her, explaining: “Sister Zhang, I’ve already spoken with them. They admitted their mistake and gave Zhang Ting 200,000 Star Coins in compensation.”

Sister Zhang’s eyes widened in disbelief: “Really?”

“Of course it’s true. I came here to deliver the money,” Le Jing said, taking out a bank card and handing it to Sister Zhang. “There are 200,000 Star Coins on it. The password is six sixes.”

Sister Zhang froze, motionless, as if she hadn’t yet realized what was happening.

Zhang Ting, however, eagerly grabbed the card and excitedly imagined: “Awesome! I’ve been wanting new sneakers for ages. Now I can buy the latest AJ pair!”

Sister Zhang finally snapped out of her daze, snatched the card from Zhang Ting’s hands, and looked at Le Jing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity: “They really were that easy to deal with? They didn’t make things difficult for you?”

Le Jing smiled lightly, adopting a relaxed tone: “Really, no problem. I recorded the incident. I threatened Bai Lang, saying that if he dared to do anything, I’d expose him online. That’s why he got scared. That’s why he apologized and compensated—just afraid I’d expose him.”

Zhang Ting was overjoyed and said happily: “As expected of Brother Jing, always has a way. Now let’s see how that Bai brat acts arrogant!”

Sister Zhang, however, could not be so optimistic. She said to Zhang Ting: “Go back to your room. I need to talk to Brother Jing.”

After Zhang Ting’s bedroom door closed, Sister Zhang stared at Le Jing seriously: “What you’re doing now will have endless repercussions!”

Le Jing shrugged: “But if we don’t do this, we’d truly be at the mercy of others. At least this way, the other party will be cautious, hesitant to recklessly retaliate.”

Sister Zhang nodded. She had to admit that Le Jing’s approach was the best solution.

She lowered her head in silence for a while, as if weighing something carefully.

Just as Le Jing considered whether to leave, Sister Zhang looked up, as if resolute, and said seriously: “If you encounter any difficulties in the future, tell Auntie. Even though I’ve been out of this circle for many years, I still know a few people, and back then I accumulated many favors…” She paused, sneering: “Many still owe me.” Adjusting her tone, she continued: “Some of them should be able to help you.”

Meeting Sister Zhang’s eyes, full of concern and worry, Le Jing nodded: “I understand. If that time comes, it might really trouble you, Sister Zhang.”

“You child, what trouble is there between us?” Sister Zhang first smiled, then sighed: “I just hope those people haven’t become that despicable yet…”

……

Le Jing returned home and called Director Li to tell him he was resigning.

Director Li was silent for a moment, then casually said: “You don’t need to resign. I fired Bai Lang.”

Le Jing was genuinely surprised: “What happened?”

Li Jianye cursed: “Not only did they change my script into that rubbish, but the lead actor doesn’t even have basic acting skills. Why bother filming? The result would just be trash! I, Li Jianye, have my pride!”

Le Jing realized that the script he had seen was already modified—no wonder it had been so… complicated.

Li Jianye continued: “I asked the investors: do you want Bai Lang or me? Without Bai Lang, we continue shooting. If you insist on making Bai Lang the lead, then withdraw your investment. I don’t care about your dirty money!”

From Director Li, Le Jing learned that the script had been bought by the director with money, hoping to make a realistic drama reflecting the dark reality of the Republic of China. The main character, Zhou Dezhang, in searching for his friend Li Jingran’s death, uncovers the dark societal reality, ultimately discovering the truth of Li Jingran’s death: no one is the true culprit, yet everyone is a killer. The corrupt government and political struggles were responsible.

This was the central theme of Records of Republican Literary Figures.

Instead, the investors turned it into a frivolous BL-style drama with no social realism—just a naive action flick in the guise of literary prestige.

Li Jianye had been angry about this and took this opportunity to break with the investors, letting them find someone else.

Le Jing asked cautiously: “So what’s your plan next?”

Director Li replied: “I still want to shoot this drama. I’ll look for other investors. If necessary, I’ll fund it myself.”

“What’s the budget for the film?”

Director Li thought: “Including marketing, at least seven to eight million.”

Compared to modern films with hundreds of millions, this was very low. Thanks to AI, props and sets can be simulated, and missing shots filled in digitally, reducing costs.

Also, most actors were relatively unknown, so salaries were low.

“If not including marketing?”

“About two million would suffice.”

Even so, Le Jing’s current wealth was far from enough. With Bai Lang’s 200,000 compensation and his earnings from Qi Jiang Video Network, he had only 400,000 Star Coins.

He sighed and reluctantly gave up.

Le Jing really wanted to invest in this drama.

In his view, the script could still be adapted to explore the Republic of China era more deeply, blending heroism with darkness, despair with ideals, and the struggle for national survival with political intrigue.

But reality was harsh—Le Jing was just broke.

So he decided to focus on earning money.

If possible in the future, he would definitely produce his own Republican-era film or TV work.

Still, he resigned to Director Li again, who generously gave him 10,000 Star Coins as a reward for his efforts.

After hanging up, Le Jing stretched, knowing he would be very busy in the days ahead.

Today was Wednesday, and this Saturday he had to upload the third episode of Little People. He’d been busy with the film crew, and the Huo Qubing movie hadn’t started yet, so he needed to hurry.

If he won the first prize in the video competition, and Director Li’s drama still lacked investment, he might even be able to fund it himself!

……

For the third episode of Little People, Le Jing planned a story about love and revenge:

A deceased woman and the man who, after enduring humiliation for five years, avenged her by wiping out her enemies’ entire family.

The woman’s name was Xu Pingjun. She died at nineteen. Her father had been a minor official, later punished and castrated, becoming a eunuch.

She was both a criminal’s daughter and a eunuch’s daughter.

The man who avenged her was Liu Bingji, who was a street thug when he married Xu Pingjun, poor and destitute. Later, he became Emperor Xuan of Han.

Their story is historically known as: Lost Love in the Southern Garden, Deep Affection of the Old Sword.

Liu Bingji’s grandfather was Crown Prince Liu Ju, and his great-grandmother was the famous Wei Zifu.

During the witchcraft rebellion, Liu Ju’s wives and children were executed by the enraged Emperor Wu, leaving only infant Liu Bingji alive.

He grew up in poverty under the protection of righteous people, indistinguishable from ordinary citizens despite his royal lineage.

Thus, a fallen royal married a common eunuch’s daughter, living happily but modestly in the streets.

But fate is unpredictable.

In the first year of Yuanping, Emperor Zhao died without an heir. His successor Liu He was deposed for debauchery by Huo Guang, Huo Qubing’s half-brother.

Finally, eighteen-year-old Liu Bingji was placed on the throne by Huo Guang.

This marked the beginning of Xu Pingjun’s tragedy.

The ministers wanted to make Huo Guang’s daughter, Huo Chengjun, the empress, but Liu Bingji remained devoted to his first wife. He couldn’t oppose Huo Guang openly, so he issued a decree asking for the sword he cherished during his life among the common people—the sword referring to Xu Pingjun.

Xu Pingjun later became empress.

Then she was poisoned by Huo Chengjun at nineteen.

Huo Chengjun achieved her ambition, ruling arrogantly. Liu Bingji, concealing his grief, pretended obedience, refused to let her bear his heir, and made Xu Pingjun’s son the crown prince.

In the second year of Dijie, Huo Guang died, and Liu Bingji held a grand funeral.

In the fourth year, the Huo family attempted a failed coup, resulting in their extermination.

In August of the same year, Huo Chengjun was deposed and relocated.

In the fifth year, she was sent to Yunlin Pavilion and eventually committed suicide.

Seventeen years had passed since Xu Pingjun’s death.

This is the story of Xu Pingjun: born lowly, briefly experienced beautiful love, and her death triggered a chain of events leading to the Huo family’s downfall.

She had been deeply loved by an emperor, yet she was poisoned. After her death, her enemies died, her son became emperor, her father was honored, and her husband remembered her all his life.

But for her, none of this mattered anymore.

This is the story of Xu Pingjun, a “little person” from life to death, entirely beyond her control.