GRMFBS CH9

The next morning, after getting up early, he steamed some soup dumplings from the fridge and used the rice cooker to make porridge.

The Gossip System greeted him:

[You, who were completely unaware of last night’s stormy events, had a good sleep.]

Huh? What happened last night?

While waiting for breakfast, Zhan Yan opened the Chaofan Forum and was immediately shocked by the number of posts.

How did they manage to rack up over a thousand layers overnight?

Zhan Yan scrolled from the top down. Since the thread was too long, he skimmed through most of it, ignoring meaningless jokes, exclamations, and arguments. He focused on a few key accounts.

First were the accounts tagged by forum users—these were experts in certain fields. Zhan Yan paid special attention to the name “All-Knowing-One,” who was the first to deduce that his expertise wasn’t in online activities but in reconnaissance abilities. Well, the Gossip System could be considered a reconnaissance tool, right?

Then there was the “Fang Pai.” Judging by other users’ reactions, this seemed to be a very formidable individual.

In the mission area, there was a points leaderboard, ranking individuals by their accumulated points. While it didn’t perfectly represent their strength, those ranked high undoubtedly had considerable abilities.

Zhan Yan switched to the leaderboard interface and scrolled through it. Both Fang Pai and the Hacker he often collaborated with were in the top 30.

Unfortunately, Fang Pai was looking for someone with online-related superpowers. Why hadn’t anyone approached him to buy intel yet?

But it made sense—he didn’t have any credibility yet. This was already a good start.

As he scrolled, the soup dumplings finished steaming. The aroma wafted out with the steam along the edge of the pot. Zhan Yan turned off the heat, opened the forum’s private message feature backstage, and replied to Fang Pai, explaining that he wasn’t an online-type superpower user. Then he closed the forum.

Opening the lid, the plump, soft, white soup dumplings lay nestled in the pot. Good food must not be wasted!

After breakfast, on his way to work, Zhan Yan opened the Gossip System again. He glanced at his special follow list—only a few scattered updates. It seemed like nothing was happening at home… Huh?

[Xia Yuexian was interrupted at a critical moment while reading a novel. Turning back, she found the story was gone. Furious, she made a request to Zhan Yunkai: “Teacher Zhan, please perform with full presence!”]

Zhan Yan knew Xia Yuexian—she was the boss of the company Zhan Yunkai had signed with. She was a good person and had helped his dad deal with a lot of entertainment industry troubles. What was she reading? And what did acting with his dad have to do with it?

Zhan Yan entered the keyword “Xia Yuexian” and found that this gossip was still being updated in real time.

Last night, Xia Yuexian was reading a novel and had just reached a critical moment when she was interrupted by Ling Yuteng’s drama. After resolving the issue, she discovered the story was gone. Immediately after, she overheard whispers on set questioning Zhan Yunkai:

“Can that old guy even do it?”
“Why did the boss suddenly want to replace him? My Ling looks so good in costume—what’s wrong with giving him a few more scenes?”
“Exactly. Hmph, replacing him with some ugly guy—do they really think the audience will accept this as the White Moonlight character?”

…

These two Ling Yuteng fans who had sneaked into the crew knew enough to find a quiet place to complain. However, Xia Yuexian, being a demon, heard everything crystal clear.

She was furious. Her anger skyrocketed as she stomped over and put on a live performance of firing them on the spot.

After kicking out the two fans who had infiltrated the crew, Zhan Yunkai came out of the dressing room just in time. Xia Yuexian made her request to him then and there.

Heh, dare to call our Chongming Demon King ugly? Let me dazzle you!

Director Liu was nearby, puffing on a cigarette. He saw Xia Yuexian firing people but couldn’t be bothered to intervene. So what if the big boss wanted to fire two crew members? Never mind Ling Yuteng’s fans—even Ling Yuteng himself had been dismissed without hesitation.

Director Liu was a bit troubled.

He was annoyed by Ling Yuteng too—terrible acting and endless drama. Replacing him was fine. Good-looking young actors weren’t in short supply. But Xia Yuexian had brought in someone older and had even come over to greet him personally. Clearly, this new guy was another insider hire.

This role, while having few scenes, was crucial to the plot. It could be said to be the reason the entire story unfolded.

Such an important yet limited role required an actor with a strong enough presence to anchor the scene. If they lacked presence, then a stunningly good-looking face could suffice. Only an exceptionally attractive face could convince the audience that this character was indeed the White Moonlight who influenced countless people.

Ling Yuteng barely passed in Director Liu’s eyes. He looked decent but lacked both charisma and presence. With makeup and post-production filters, he could just about get by.

When Zhan Yunkai arrived, it was already dark. The lighting wasn’t great, and from a distance, Director Liu couldn’t get a clear look at him.

The assistant director, however, was confident: “Don’t worry. Teacher Zhan is perfect for this role.”

Of course. Director Liu silently mocked. You’re all from the same company—you’d naturally say it’s fine.

At that moment, Zhan Yunkai stepped out. He hadn’t listened to Xia Yuexian’s suggestion. This girl tended to act on impulse when angry. If he really unleashed his demon king aura, the first to reveal her true form would be her.

The next day’s headline: “Mingtang Film and Television Company’s Boss Turns Into a Fox During On-Set Magic Show.”

Just seeing her this angry, His Majesty the Demon King still tried his best to fulfill his subordinate’s wishes.

Hair bound with a golden crown, clad in a red robe and golden armor, Zhan Yunkai cast a glance, and Director Liu dropped his cigarette.

His eyes lit up as he slapped his thigh, exclaiming, “Perfect!”

The assistant director grimaced, “Stop slapping my thigh!”

Director Liu retracted his hand. “This look! This aura! He could just stand there and not move! If he can’t memorize the lines, I’ll find him a voiceover!”

Zhan Yunkai smiled. “Director, I’ve already memorized the lines, and my lip-sync will definitely match.”

When he started speaking, Director Liu was stunned once more. Zhan Yunkai’s voice was truly captivating! Smooth and steady, like polished glass beads, each note was clear and bright, sliding from the ears straight into the heart, as if soaked in a spring of fresh water.

Director Liu was moved. This voice! It would be a shame not to use it!

With this appearance and this voice, as soon as he appears, who wouldn’t believe he’s the ideal “white moonlight”?

“Even better! Alright, let’s run through the lines!” Director Liu had someone bring over the script.

This character didn’t have many lines, but Zhan Yunkai had only been called in to fill in at the last minute. At most, he had two hours to memorize the lines. Director Liu doubted he had memorized everything, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted to test Zhan Yunkai’s delivery skills.

He decided that as long as Zhan Yunkai’s delivery wasn’t too bad, he’d use him! If worst came to worst, he’d teach him line by line! He didn’t need him to perfect every nuance—if he could mimic even forty or fifty percent, that’d be enough!

Zhan Yunkai started running lines with Director Liu.

His delivery was terrible—mainly because His Majesty the Demon King had never experienced the pain of enduring humiliation or compromising his principles. He had always been the type to rather shatter like jade than bend like pottery. And, of course, the one shattering was always someone else.

Zhan Yunkai began reciting the lines emotionlessly, like an early AI voice, fluent but completely monotone. Yet, with his strikingly handsome face, devoid of expression, and just a slight lift of his eyelids, his eyes radiated a commanding presence that perfectly matched the character’s setting.

As they rehearsed, Director Liu found himself clutching his chest, torn between being captivated by Zhan Yunkai’s imposing aura and cringing at his flat delivery.

He struggled and felt conflicted, so he lowered his head to focus on the script and avoid looking at Zhan Yunkai. But he couldn’t resist sneaking glances, drawn to the beauty, only to clutch his chest again in frustration.

After running through a few segments, Director Liu decided to stop torturing himself. He cheerfully set down the script and showered Zhan Yunkai with praise. “Very good, very good! You memorized the lines so quickly! This morning, someone else said they didn’t have time to memorize and wanted to just say ‘12345.’ It made voiceovers a nightmare, with the lip-sync completely off—do they think the audience are fools? With you, adding a voiceover later will be no problem. Get a good rest tonight, and we’ll start shooting tomorrow!”

—That was last night’s gossip.

Zhan Yan followed the gossip trail, searching keywords to piece together the full story during his morning work hours.

[7 a.m.: Ling Yuteng confidently told his assistant, “No rush. Wait for their call. I’ll go once they agree to my terms.”]

[8 a.m.: Ling Yuteng placed his phone beside him and, full of confidence, told his assistant, “Don’t worry. They’re definitely discussing how to rewrite the script for me.”]

[9 a.m.: Ling Yuteng checked his phone every half hour, sneering at his assistant, “They’ve only got a few scenes left to shoot, haven’t they? Should be almost done.”]

[10 a.m.: Ling Yuteng checked his phone every ten minutes and scoffed at his assistant, “They’re just trying to drag it out! Let’s see who can hold out longer!”]

Zhan Yan munched on lunch while reading the gossip, vicariously enjoying his father dominating the set.

This role had several fight scenes. For a popular young actor, it would involve learning choreography and using stunt doubles, making the camera work a hassle. His father could jump straight in, impressing the martial arts director with his ability to learn moves after seeing them once.

Zhan Yan treated his dad’s gossip like an indulgent showbiz novel.

His dad could lift a 50-kilogram sack of rice with one hand without breaking a sweat. When Zhan Yan and his sister sneaked out to play as kids, their dad vaulted over a two-meter-high courtyard wall with one push, as light as a bird.

So the three siblings learned early on: they could misbehave but within limits. If they crossed the line and angered their dad to the point of using his hands, none of them could withstand his strength.

The news office had a long lunch break when things were quiet. Zhan Yan called his mom. “Mom, when do you think you’ll finish work and come home?”

Ji Yueming was eating lunch. The Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau had excellent logistics; the cafeteria chef wasn’t as skilled as Zhan Yunkai but still surpassed most Michelin chefs.

She was eating in a small meeting room with a few team members and personnel temporarily assigned to handle the growing anomalies.

Braised pork, fish head stew, chilled lettuce, watermelon pudding, sour plum soup…

The exhausted employees were all engrossed in their meals.

Nie Yu held a small bowl of almond tofu, savoring it while enviously eyeing his brother’s lychee shrimp balls. “This meal alone makes overtime worth it.”

Ji Yueming remained expressionless.

“You can only have one more. Any more, and your stomach won’t handle it.” Nie Ling relented under his sister’s imploring gaze and gave Nie Yu a shrimp ball. Then he whispered, “Every time I see the captain eat, it feels like she’s eating instant noodles. Do you think this is what they mean by ‘wealth cannot corrupt her’?”

Ji Yueming’s phone rang. She set down her chopsticks and casually cast a small barrier. Her voice was gentle. “Yanyan, do you miss Mom? Mom’s been a bit busy these days and isn’t sure when she’ll be back.”

Mainly, she was working overtime because of the two sudden anomalies. She could technically go home to sleep, but frequent visits to the Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau might raise suspicion.

“I see. Dad said he left some soup dumplings and braised meat in the fridge. I’ll bring you lunch at the office,” Zhan Yan said.

His mom hadn’t eaten last night or this morning, and it seemed she wouldn’t be back anytime soon. He couldn’t let her go hungry.

Ji Yueming suddenly found her abalone rice tasteless.

“Mom’s not at the office; I’m on a business trip in another city,” she said sorrowfully.

Zhan Yan sympathized. “I see… Mom, make sure you eat well and don’t skimp on yourself.”

After hanging up, Ji Yueming removed the barrier and, with a solemn expression, wolfed down her abalone rice like it was instant noodles.

“Take your time eating. I’m going to check on that anomaly.”

The sooner she finished, the sooner she could go home to eat soup dumplings, and braised meat!

The people in the meeting room watched their captain’s somber face and hurried steps, feeling they were still far from truly enlightened. Compared to the heavy responsibilities she bore, what was mere gluttony?