Chapter Eighty-One: A Handsome Gentleman Blessed with Both Talent and Charm

Where there are people, there will always be a world of intrigue; where there is profit, there will always be conflict. Perhaps because “Never Expected” has recently drawn so much attention, as Chen Qi’s filming neared its end, criticism and censure from industry insiders suddenly multiplied.

The earliest of these voices appeared on Weibo.

Some claimed that “Never Expected” didn’t even deserve to be called a film or television production, others called it nothing but a product of opportunism, and some went so far as to say that such garbage should never have existed.

Xu Bunian was the first to notice these rumblings, and at once informed Chen Qi.

Chen Qi was unfazed.

Only the mediocre escape envy; such voices came as no surprise to him.

Whether these people were simply clowns desperate for attention or ill-intentioned capitalists stirring trouble from the shadows, he couldn’t care less.

If you foolishly leap out to defend yourself at a time like this, it only emboldens them.

Even with only a superficial understanding of the entertainment world, Chen Qi knew that this kind of smear campaign was par for the course. His emergence had likely rattled a few cages, and it was hardly strange that someone would try to put him in his place.

He was a nobody with no background or connections; it took no effort for them to target him, and they could do so without a second thought.

Did he need to explain himself?

No.

He wasn’t even afraid of the matter escalating further.

As long as the authorities didn’t step in to suppress him, he had plenty of ways to make those jesters regret ever provoking him.

Chen Qi carried on filming, entirely undisturbed by these petty antagonists.

What he didn’t expect was that, even though he made no response, many netizens couldn’t help but answer on his behalf.

Those critics’ Weibo pages were soon overwhelmed by a flood of indignant, justice-seeking netizens.

“Their work isn’t worthy of being called a TV show? And what, you’re worthy of being called a human being?”

“Can you stop coming out here just to disgust people? Your jealousy is practically oozing off the screen!”

“And why shouldn’t it be called a TV show? Just because it’s low-budget? Because it’s a small production? The point is, so many of your big-budget, star-studded projects aren’t half as entertaining!”

“Let’s be reasonable—if you say it’s rough or simple, sure, we can accept that. But if you call it garbage, I disagree. You’re the garbage. Your whole family is garbage!”

Reasonable netizens tore into them with a vengeance.

As viewers, the standard for judging a show’s quality has never been about how big the budget is or how many stars are involved.

Are there not enough big-budget flops out there?

You capitalists can make whatever you want, but do you expect us to let you decide what’s good and what’s bad?

No, thank you.

We’re the audience; our eyes are sharp and clear!

After the netizens had spoken, the world quieted down.

Under the concentrated fire of so many viewers, those self-proclaimed film and television insiders dared not utter another word.

Before long, people noticed they’d quietly deleted their earlier posts…

Upon hearing this, as he filmed the final shot, Chen Qi couldn’t help but laugh.

He found the audience utterly endearing.

Perhaps inspired by the whole affair, he suddenly decided to shoot an extra episode.

“Come here, everyone,” Chen Qi called out to Bai Xiaoke and the others.

Bai Xiaoke and Zhao Wu, who were about to remove their makeup, paused in surprise before quickly gathering around.

“I’m planning to shoot one more episode, based on some of your past experiences,” he said.

The group looked at him, bewildered.

“Here’s the idea…” Chen Qi organized his thoughts and explained his plan.

In a moment of realization, Bai Xiaoke and the others began to discuss and offer suggestions.

Chen Qi listened as he took notes.

Half an hour later, he put his notes away and announced, “That’s it for today. We’ll shoot one more day tomorrow.”

Leaving the subsequent arrangements to Xu Bunian, Chen Qi hurried back to his rented room to organize the material he’d just collected.

Having adapted two full seasons of “Never Expected,” Chen Qi knew the show’s style inside and out—he was confident he could write a similar episode.

As for whether this special episode would be as brilliant as the previous ones…

It didn’t matter; after all, it was a bonus.

The next day.

As soon as he arrived on set, Chen Qi handed the script he’d prepared the night before to Bai Xiaoke and Zhao Wu, urging them to familiarize themselves with it quickly.

After glancing through the script, Bai Xiaoke and Zhao Wu’s eyes lit up with interest.

This episode was free-form, without specific makeup or scenery requirements—in short, the watchword was: shoot as you like!

Half an hour later, filming began.

“All right, ready.”

“Three, two, one—action!”

Wang Dachui faced the camera with his usual expressionless face, reciting his lines flatly.

“My name is Wang Dachui, and my dream is to be an actor…”

This special episode was adapted from Bai Xiaoke, Zhao Wu, and the others’ real-life experiences, presented with humor, self-deprecation, even self-mockery, as they recounted the troubles they’d faced over the years.

Scolded by directors.

Scolded by crew.

Scolded by arrogant, self-important stars.

Whatever they did was wrong; sometimes, just giving up and muddling through was the only way to pass muster.

They’d encountered baffling unspoken rules, seen bizarre crews, and met big stars who barely showed up, leaving the bulk of the work to body doubles.

In this episode, Zhao Wu and Chen Qi took turns playing various antagonists, clearly enjoying themselves.

“My name is Wang Dachui. Never expected I would actually become an actor in the end.”

“When I was on the verge of despair and about to leave the industry, I met an artist who called himself Chen Qi—yes, the guy who doesn’t look all that bright.”

Expressionless, Wang Dachui pointed a finger off to the side.

The camera followed, landing on Chen Qi, who shamelessly greeted the audience.

“Yes, I’m Chen Qi. That paragon of talent and good looks rolled into one.” Chen Qi picked up the line.

“I’m delighted to bring you all this joyful work. I know ‘Never Expected’ has won much love; while that’s certainly due to my damnable, uncontainable talent, I still have to thank all you lovely people watching from your screens—thank you for your support and affection. Thank you!”

Chen Qi bowed to the camera.

As the camera slowly panned out, Bai Xiaoke, Zhao Wu, and the other main cast members gradually came into view.

All of them beamed, waving goodbye to the camera.