089 Song Invitation, An Outrageous Move

“What on earth is going on with this guy’s Weibo? It’s a complete mess!”

Lu Xiaoguan, in the midst of a final promotional push for “The Fairy and the Strange Ape,” took a moment to scroll through Li Jie’s social media account as he returned to the headquarters in Tanzhou. At first glance, he nearly blacked out in shock. It was utter chaos—unimaginable, indescribable. The comment section was filled with garbage posts no one seemed to manage, nor could they. Li Jie hadn’t even set up a posting threshold, leaving his personal Weibo to become a dumping ground. Some people, even strangers who neither knew nor cared about Li Jie, just dropped by to vent.

There was even an outrageous “Vent Thread,” with over two hundred thousand replies, leaving Lu Xiaoguan utterly dumbfounded.

“Director Lu, is this how he managed to keep ‘Wang Tianxian’ in check?”

“Not a chance. That one’s now a banner carrier for live-action animation—writing, directing, and starring all by himself. You can’t just see him as some bit player.”

Just a few months ago, eighty thousand yuan would have had Li Jie playing a dog on set, but times had changed. Now, even eight hundred thousand would only get you in if you had the right connections.

Lu Xiaoguan counted himself lucky—Li Jie had saved him more trouble than he could say. The publicity effort was at least triple the norm.

“The Fairy and the Strange Ape” was just a New Year’s throwaway, a comedy to liven up the holidays and help some friends launder a bit of cash. Lu was just doing someone a favor, and a few million in profits would be plenty. He didn’t ask for more.

But with Li Jie in the mix, Lu Xiaoguan had edited in extra shots of him, though there hadn’t been enough footage to make him a significant supporting male lead—an idea he only toyed with in hindsight. For now, he was just glad to have built a good rapport with Ai Shoujin, and, by extension, with Li Jie as well. Maybe next time, when a new project came up, they could work together.

The only problem was Li Jie’s acting—woefully unpolished. Lu Xiaoguan honestly had no idea what role would suit him.

“This kid’s got a knack for something.”

After a while, Lu Xiaoguan remembered Li Jie still had the “Masked Calabash Hero” account and took a peek. The tone there was much more wholesome. Lots of kids from Sanjiang Province left messages, hoping for encouragement from “Power Red.” Li Jie actually posted words of support from time to time. Occasionally, a “Wang Tianxian” fan would drop by to cause trouble, but parents of the children stomped it out immediately.

The “Wang Tianxian” fans didn’t dare make a scene in the “children’s zone”—after all, if you cross the line, someone will push back hard, no hesitation.

Bored, Lu Xiaoguan scrolled back to Li Jie’s main Weibo, watching the chaos unfold, when a comment from a “Wang Tianxian” fan jogged his memory.

“Damn, I completely forgot about this.”

“Director Lu, what is it?”

“Last week, Boss Mei asked me for a favor. He wants to release a festive song for the New Year and asked if I could set up a meeting with Li Jie. I completely forgot.”

“Didn’t Boss Mei already book someone from ‘Perfect Music’? The one who specializes in New Year’s songs?”

“Duangen? Didn’t you see the post?”

Lu Xiaoguan pointed to a comment in Li Jie’s feed: “Sister’s New Year’s Song, ‘Welcoming Spring with a Smile,’ is now online. Please check it out.”

“Welcoming Spring with a Smile” was the latest work by Duangen, a composer at Perfect Music, originally intended for Lu Xiaoguan’s friend Mei Xingyu.

When it came to making money, Mei Xingyu couldn’t match Lu Xiaoguan, but in terms of artistic achievement, they weren’t even in the same league. Mei Xingyu was a “Qingyi” singer who, over a decade ago, began blending opera with pop music, encouraging young people to embrace traditional culture. He was an artist at the forefront of the field.

They weren’t on the same track, but within the arts, there was a clear hierarchy. Lu Xiaoguan fully acknowledged that Mei Xingyu outranked him. And when it came to raking in cash, if Mei Xingyu cared about it, his international box office draw would be a hundred times greater than Lu Xiaoguan’s.

Mei Xingyu could genuinely discuss artistic value and achievement, whereas Lu Xiaoguan would never break into the art world no matter how many TV dramas he produced.

This time, Duangen’s “Welcoming Spring with a Smile” was supposed to go to Mei Xingyu, but Wang Tianxian’s company snatched it away. It was a bit underhanded, but Mei Xingyu didn’t mind—he was just looking to join in the New Year festivities, nothing personal.

With “Welcoming Spring with a Smile” gone, he simply put out a wide call, telling all his contacts—old friends and new—that he was looking for a festive New Year’s song and to send anything suitable his way. Lu Xiaoguan was, of course, among those notified.

Mei Xingyu knew of Li Jie and had even met him before, but that was back when Li Jie was a child star—adorable and sweet. Later, after his “mutation” and fall from grace, he faded into obscurity. Now, with his resurgence and several trending topics to his name, it was quite natural for Mei Xingyu to think of him.

But Li Jie’s current online persona made Mei Xingyu hesitate, so he asked Lu Xiaoguan to sound him out. If it worked, great; if not, no big deal.

Whether or not “Boss Mei” was motivated by the infamous fan wars between Li Jie’s fans and “Wang Tianxian’s” fans was anyone’s guess. Regardless, he was looking forward to it.

His reason? “Boss Mei” felt Li Jie had great respect for traditional culture—“Masked Calabash Hero” incorporated many traditional elements. Maybe they simply shared a mutual appreciation.

Only, “Boss Mei” had no idea how busy Lu Xiaoguan was—preparing for the New Year’s Day release of “The Fairy and the Strange Ape,” roadshows, promotions, fan meetings, drama club gatherings, film club events—barely a moment to rest. Even returning to his hometown of Tanzhou wasn’t for the holiday, but to discuss ongoing collaboration with “Three Rivers TV.” The “Monkey” and “Purple-Clad Fairy” he promoted were both strategic partners of the station, with endorsement deals and the like that Lu Xiaoguan could profit from.

Everything was about making a little extra for the New Year—stocking up was the top priority.

But he was so busy he forgot about “Boss Mei’s” request until he saw the reminder in Li Jie’s Weibo comments.

He quickly messaged Li Jie, skipping the pleasantries, and got straight to the point: “President Li, I have a question for you. Do you have any festive songs suitable for the New Year? My friend Mei Xingyu is interested in commissioning one. Price is negotiable.”

Whether Li Jie had anything or not, it was worth asking.

At that moment, Li Jie had just finished filming an action scene and was about to take a break with a round of Honor of Kings when he saw Lu Xiaoguan’s message. He immediately replied with a voice note: “Director Ai, what a coincidence. I actually do.”

The day before, Boss Li had drawn from Manager Yang, yesterday from “Love at First Touch,” and today it was “Good Luck Comes.” Boss Li’s “useless old father” Director Ai’s draw wasn’t Huazi cigarettes or Rike fifth generation.

Lu Xiaoguan was stunned by the reply: “Wait, you really have one?”

He’d only asked for a response so he could report back to “Boss Mei.” This was unexpected.

So he called Li Jie directly: “President Li, you really have one?”

“I do. It’s called ‘Good Luck Comes.’ I’ll give you a friendship price of three hundred thousand for the publishing rights, and we can negotiate a sales split.”

“….”

Lu Xiaoguan was flabbergasted. He knew a hit song could feed you for life, but from Li Jie’s tone, this was a guaranteed hit?

As it turned out, “Good Luck Comes” had far more commercial value than “The World Only Mothers Are Good.” As long as it was New Year’s and there were shopping malls, this song would generate steady income. Out of respect for Lu Xiaoguan, Li Jie was offering this as a gesture of friendship—most people wouldn’t even get a reply.

Truth be told, Li Jie’s swagger actually energized Lu Xiaoguan. After all, Li Jie was now President Li. “The Fairy and the Strange Ape” would make some money, sure, but nothing compared to “Masked Calabash Hero,” which had already made fifty or sixty million with merchandise sales booming every day.

With the New Year approaching, “Power Red’s” color alone was festive enough to keep sales soaring. If it weren’t for the need to give employees time off, the “Swing and Shake Crafts Factory” would be running three shifts round the clock for half a year. The old subcontractors had already been working nonstop, machines humming day and night, all for a big holiday payoff.

Given Li Jie’s current status, Lu Xiaoguan was right to be courteous—he might even want to seek investment from President Li in the future.

While Lu Xiaoguan and Li Jie discussed the details, online news feeds were once again ablaze.

“Young Master Yang attacked by a mysterious assailant once more!”

“Sources at Luzhou Renshou Hospital reveal the attacker was heavily armed!”

“Luzhou police vow to crack the case!”

“Kaihuang Group’s spokesperson announces a reward for the perpetrator!”

Meanwhile, the forum boards that had previously buzzed with speculation now painted a different picture. The Guangling local forums were celebrating—Young Master Yang had broken his leg again.

The news of Yang Ying’s broken leg had surfaced in the anonymous forums, along with a bombshell: Han Zitong, Kaihuang Group’s chief of security, had also been seriously injured—broken ribs and sternum, possibly a punctured lung.

Even more shocking, Han Zitong’s beloved sidearm, the “Big Silver Star,” had been stolen. This was why Luzhou police were treating the case as a major threat, launching a three-day citywide search, checking suspicious vehicles and people. Losing Han Zitong’s gun was a minor issue compared to the possibility that someone might use it to escalate trouble for the police—a chilling prospect.

No wonder the Luzhou police issued a report immediately and contacted the Jianye police for assistance, hoping to have a word with Li Jie, the boss of “Creative Ability.”

After all, apart from Li Jie, the only one with a serious feud with Young Master Yang lately was the contractor Du Yao.

Du Yao hadn’t left the Guangling construction site, as confirmed by the local police, so now all eyes were on Li Jie. Perhaps they’d learn something from a chat.

Predictably, they learned nothing. President Li was calm and even managed to mock the Luzhou police.

While talking to Lu Xiaoguan on the phone, he even tagged Luzhou police on his tablet: “Drop by Jianye whenever you have time—if you can’t solve the case, take a vacation, enjoy some sightseeing. No need to let work interfere with life.”

This audacious move left even the diehard “Ten-Year Anti-Fan” group speechless.

Crab-brother’s logic was truly in a world of its own.

With this alone, even “Wang Tianxian’s” fans were left at a loss for words.

When it came to causing mischief, no one could top the “original labor-fan idol”…

Second update.

First day subscription results are in: 2,313—pretty good! Thank you all for your support.

(End of chapter)