C15

The journalist was quite experienced, having encountered numerous newcomers before—otherwise, he wouldn’t be getting paid to set people up like this.

But someone like Jiang Fanxing? That was truly a first.

“Teacher Jiang, you sure have a great sense of humor.” The journalist chuckled awkwardly, trying to brush past the topic. “It seems like you’re not quite ready to share for now.”

“May I ask how much your annual salary is, Mr. Journalist?” Jiang Fanxing generously offered a way out. “Is it at least 500,000 a year?”

The journalist was momentarily stunned before instinctively answering, “Of course not.”

That kind of salary was usually reserved for chief editors or top executives.

“Our drama is an S+ level project, and the script is extremely valuable. Naturally, I can’t just casually share it,” Jiang Fanxing said with a smile. “But I have high hopes for you, sir. If you work hard enough, maybe one day you can afford to buy an episode’s script. Then, you can share it with the audience yourself.”

The journalist wiped away some cold sweat. “Teacher Jiang, you flatter me.”

“Not at all. I’ve worked before too, and I can tell how much experience someone has just by looking.” Jiang Fanxing chuckled, pointing at his own hair. “Mr. Journalist, you should take good care of yourself too.”

“Speaking of which, we received an anonymous tip saying that you were a law student at A University, once interned at a prestigious law firm, and were very likely to secure a full-time position. Did you enter the entertainment industry to chase your dreams?” The journalist, a seasoned veteran, quickly shifted topics after realizing Jiang Fanxing was no pushover.

Nowadays, the high salaries of celebrities had already drawn resentment from many working professionals.

 

Jiang Fanxing, with his prestigious educational background and promising career opportunities, had abandoned it all to become an actor. Surely, it was just for the money. With just a little guidance, he could be painted as a greedy sellout, and his public reputation would take a hit.

“Of course, it’s for my dream,” Jiang Fanxing replied.

“Oh? And what dream is that?” The journalist was secretly delighted. This rookie still wasn’t sharp enough—he had walked right into the trap. No matter how grand he made his “dream” sound, the journalist could easily counter by questioning his academics and career choices.

Jiang Fanxing straightened up, looking directly at the camera with a calm and confident expression. He spoke each word clearly and firmly:

“My dream is to get rich overnight and retire early. Being a lawyer can make money too, but your golden years don’t come until you’re in your 40s or 50s. However, my ideal retirement age is 35. The entertainment industry has a fast turnover, so I hope to be phased out by 35, achieve financial freedom, and enjoy an early retirement.
My dream depends on everyone’s support, so I hope the audience can help me out. Thank you.”

After finishing, Jiang Fanxing gave a polite bow to the camera.

The journalist was completely dumbfounded.

This… this left no room to continue the interview!

“Seems like you have no further questions, Mr. Journalist. I’ll be heading back to filming now. Hopefully, we meet again next time. Oh, and I wish all the viewers a happy New Year and hope you can achieve your dreams just like me.”

Jiang Fanxing waved with a bright smile and turned away effortlessly.

This journalist realized, in hindsight, that he had been far too polite before. He had completely missed the chance to ask tougher questions.

If it had been him in charge, he would’ve gone straight for the kill: “How many girlfriends have you had?”

The journalist left in utter defeat.

“Just to be clear, I’m not giving this money back. You guys never told me Jiang Fanxing would be this difficult to deal with.” The journalist wasn’t about to work for free. “Anyway, the footage has already been uploaded directly online. Once the editors review it, it’ll be broadcast immediately. It’s a one-take recording, and any edits would be obvious.”

Lin Rin Studio’s assistant was having a headache.

What now?

Jiang Fanxing’s words were indeed eye-catching and came across as sincere, but they were too sincere. It was hard to generate any negative sentiment toward him.

If he had even faked it a little, saying his dream was to become a great actor or a top star, then there would be room to criticize.

But no—he went straight for the truth and bluntly admitted he was in it for the money.

How were they supposed to spin this into a scandal?

“What else can we do? Just tell Lin-ge to hold off for now. Jiang Fanxing isn’t an easy target—we should tread carefully. It’s best if we stay out of each other’s way.” Otherwise, if Jiang Fanxing actually blew up in popularity, they’d end up with a formidable new rival out of nowhere.

“Alright, let’s try to smooth things over.” The talent manager nodded in agreement. “Didn’t Lin-ge have that influencer he was getting close to? Find an opportunity for her to visit a few more times.”

Neither Lin nor the influencer were in relationships, so even if rumors spread, it wouldn’t be a big deal. As long as they kept their core fans steady, everything would remain under control.

Meanwhile, after wrapping up the interview, Jiang Fanxing sent a voice message to Shen Tianqing, briefly explaining the situation.

Hadn’t Shen Tianqing just complained that he wasn’t getting any buzz? Well, here it was. Time to take advantage of it.

Plus, this was the perfect moment to officially launch his social media platform. He had been planning this for a while.

Since the journalist’s interview was streamed on a relatively unknown site, the initial viewership was low—mostly just fans of the cast dropping by to see their favorite actors and receive New Year’s greetings.

Most of the questions had been generic, with the journalists too afraid to ask anything controversial, so casual viewers didn’t bother watching these kinds of interviews.

That was until two of Jiang Fanxing’s lines were clipped and spread separately:

“Can I take a look at your bank card password?”

“My dream is to get rich overnight and retire early.”

Instantly, the clips gained traction.

“Oh, he’s the third male lead in the drama? Ah, our Linlin’s best buddy on set—of course, handsome guys only hang out with other handsome guys.”

“Hahaha, you wanted to see his script, but he wanted to see your bank card password—avoiding a self-incrimination trap like a pro.”

“Damn, I never knew what my dream was before, but now I finally found it.”

“As fellow workers, who doesn’t want to retire early?”

“If it weren’t for the health insurance and pension, would I even be working this crappy job?”

…

In the entertainment industry, plenty of celebrities branded themselves as “relatable,” but most of them lived in a bubble of assistants and fans showering them with praise.

Even when they joined variety shows to experience the life of an ordinary worker, it was just temporary entertainment. They’d collect their paycheck and move on to the next gig, never truly understanding what it meant to be a corporate drone.

But Jiang Fanxing’s words hit differently.

Shen Tianqing acted quickly, launching a marketing campaign under the hashtag #WanShengDrama to ride the show’s growing momentum.

Jiang Fanxing’s two lines were repackaged and promoted as “the voice of all working-class people.”

At the same time, details about Jiang Fanxing’s past—his meager internship salary at the law firm, his struggles as an extra, and his personal background—were all “released” to the public.

He wasn’t some rich heir, nor was he someone who could casually fall back on inheriting a family business if his entertainment career didn’t pan out.

He was just an ordinary guy from an average family who worked hard to get into a good university and a great major, only to be beaten down by reality when he entered the workforce. So, he decisively leveraged his good looks and stepped into the entertainment industry.

These days, people were tired of the whole “wealthy socialite” persona—those rich heirs and heiresses flaunting their money.

“You guys are already filthy rich, the little princes and princesses of capitalism, so why do you still want to take up space in our industry and rob us of our attention? Spare our eyes, please.”

That was why Jiang Fanxing’s image stood out—among all the new male actors of his generation, he had no direct competition.

The official Wan Sheng drama account also seized the opportunity. They released a series of official cast posters while tagging the main actors’ social media accounts.

Naturally, Jiang Fanxing’s account quickly became the target of countless fans and curious netizens, all eager to “spy” on him.

Some of his old posts were unearthed:
[XX Year XX Month XX Day]

“After fighting tooth and nail, I finally landed a law firm internship! Huge thanks to my professor for the recommendation and my senior classmates for pulling me up. Alright, time to make the legal world tremble!”

Two days later

“Forget it. Let it all burn. I’m leaving the office at 3 AM again.”

 

“…Funny story: my internship pays 100 yuan per day, no meals included. After deducting food expenses and late-night cab fares, I’m actually losing 20 yuan a day.”

“Every morning, I ask myself—do I really need this job?”

Two months later

“I saw my senior classmate who just got back from a business trip. Oh god, his hairline is gone. This was the guy people called the second most handsome student in our school? (I was the first, obviously.)”

“My mom video-called me and said I looked like I’d been drained by a demon. Ha, isn’t that just what working life does to you?”

“…Went on Zhihu today to ask: ‘What job lets me make money without ruining my looks?’ It told me to become an entertainer. Alright then, I’ll give it a shot.”

“Got my actor’s license!”

“Passed the special actor exam!”

“Savings finally hit five figures, woohoo!”

“Let’s see which gullible employer is trying to sign me today?”

“Even Nian Nian Studio wants to sign someone like me. Guess their boss isn’t that sharp-eyed after all.” (These last two posts were deleted after netizens discovered them, turning them into viral jokes.)

…

Jiang Fanxing’s personal account was like a real-life transformation arc, chronicling his journey from a proud, handsome college student to a working-class struggler who eventually mastered the art of managing his boss from below.

 

Most importantly, he felt alive.

Through his posts, people could see who he really was. From the start, Jiang Fanxing never intended to be a flawless idol. Instead, he chose the “real person” route—one that could never be shattered by scandals or image collapses.

Shen Tianqing was surprised. It seemed Jiang Fanxing had a very clear plan for his entertainment career. He even managed to turn potential blackmail material into selling points.

But of course, this alone wasn’t enough.

Even the best wine needs promotion, and at the end of the day, publicity was the real game-changer.

Wang Sheng’s promotional team went all in—first setting up dozens of trending topics, then repackaging Jiang Fanxing’s past experiences into meme-worthy remix videos and viral posts. The strategy was to frame it around “contemporary college students” and buy a wave of trending hashtags across multiple platforms.

As long as enough trends were bought, at least one or two were bound to catch fire, pulling in a real audience and skyrocketing the topic’s visibility.

Shen Tianqing’s team had standing promotional agreements with various platforms—everything came as a bundled deal. Even though Qin Shi and Yi Zhu had collapsed, the contracts were with the studio, meaning the budget could be fully redirected toward Jiang Fanxing.

Investing heavily in the early stages was necessary to attract genuine public interest later on. And of course, this was also to do justice to Sister Zhang’s financial investment, making her data collection much more convenient.

With this level of firepower, it was practically impossible for Jiang Fanxing’s name to not show up in people’s feeds. The cleverly crafted headlines ensured that real users were clicking in droves.

Online Reactions:

“Wow, even such a handsome guy has gone through struggles similar to mine. I feel oddly comforted.”

“Who leaked my life story?”

“Law school is so great, huh? An internship actually pays 100 yuan a day? Meanwhile, in my field, it’s 800 yuan… a month.”

“o(*￣︶￣*)o You guys haven’t seen hospital resident salaries yet—ever seen a monthly paycheck in the single digits?”

 

“Civil engineering students, hands in pockets, looking around. We have no competitors when it comes to workplace suffering.”

—

“Shen Tianqing really went all out, buying dozens of trending hashtags across multiple platforms—and it actually worked. The topic is blowing up!” Zhang Jie couldn’t hide her excitement. This meant she could also hit her KPI targets.

He sure knew how to handle things—clean execution, smooth delivery.

This level of promotion easily cost hundreds of thousands, if not millions. Spending that kind of money on a newcomer made it obvious how much faith Shen Tianqing had in Jiang Fanxing.

After all, no matter how talented someone was or how viral their clips went, without sustained promotion, the internet’s three-minute attention span meant people would forget their name within an hour of scrolling through short videos.

In an era of entertainment overload, an artist who didn’t ride trending waves, didn’t generate engagement, and lacked any viral appeal had almost zero chance of making serious money.

The sky-high salaries for actors weren’t just about their popularity—it was also about the power of their marketing teams.

Trying to rely on word of mouth alone to break into the industry? That was almost impossible. Even if someone managed to go viral, if their follow-up resources couldn’t keep up, they’d immediately fall back into obscurity—just another case of “three days at the top.”

But this investment wasn’t wasted.

Within just a day or two, Jiang Fanxing’s personal account jumped from a few hundred followers to over a hundred thousand. His fanbase was already starting to take shape, and many of them had that classic “chaotic internet gremlin” energy.

—

Meanwhile, inside the production set, Jiang Fanxing remained completely unfazed by the online frenzy.

He didn’t post a single response.

Instead, he focused entirely on filming.

However, after being “educated” by the producer about Jiang Fanxing’s recent explosion, director Zhu Guofu began looking at him with a particularly complex expression.

“This kid… he really got into law school on his own merit? And on top of that, he’s got serious acting potential? Seems like he got tricked by the glitz and glam of showbiz.”

Zhu Guofu felt he had a responsibility to guide this young actor properly.

“The entertainment industry isn’t for everyone. Sometimes, you need to tone down your personality.” Zhu Guofu took it upon himself to give Jiang Fanxing some life advice.

Jiang Fanxing, utterly unconcerned, replied without hesitation: “I think I’m a perfect fit for this industry.”

“My parents gave me a good-looking face, the heavens gave me brains, and my agent knows how to maximize my strengths. If I don’t show myself off to the world, that would be a waste. The entertainment industry has room for all kinds of people—even criminals. So why not one more law-abiding citizen?”

Zhu Guofu frowned. “In this industry, looks aren’t everything. Staying humble, having a good reputation, and knowing how to keep a low profile are key survival skills.”

He had expected Jiang Fanxing to listen obediently—most young actors begged him for advice.

Instead, Jiang Fanxing shot back immediately:

“Oh? So, Director, are you saying that people who are attractive but don’t make it in the industry must have moral failings? That’s quite a take. Maybe you’ve just had too much salt in your diet.”

Zhu Guofu instantly regretted ever trying to lecture this kid.

 

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