Chapter 63: Since When Did an Actor Become Emperor?

What astonished Yang Changfeng was that Ma Siwei didn’t believe Wang Hu at all—not in the slightest.

When Wang Hu poured her tea, Ma Siwei didn’t even glance at it. She said coolly, “Mr. Wang, there are some tricks you really shouldn’t keep using over and over again. It’s just an insult to our intelligence.”

So that’s what she meant…

Catching the implication in her words, Ma Siwei shot Yang Changfeng a glare, half explaining, half sneering, “There are only a handful of actresses in Jiangzhou. All those sordid affairs that happened here—there must have been at least ten actresses, maybe even actors, who were all brought down in the same way, under similar circumstances, right? The industry is small. If one person has a problem, you might call it coincidence. If ten or more have the same problem, do you really think those disgraceful little tricks of yours wouldn’t become common knowledge?”

So they’re all fox spirits, each as cunning as the next—no one should be reading tales of seduction to anyone else.

Yang Changfeng watched the scene unfold with a broad grin.

Wang Hu’s expression didn’t change. “Miss Ma, perhaps you misunderstand. I invited you here to mediate, not to make enemies. You’re overthinking things.”

Ma Siwei retorted with biting sarcasm, “So, our Jiangzhou Tiger, who went all the way to Hong Kong to learn these filthy tricks, has truly turned over a new leaf? How delightful. But perhaps you’ve made too many enemies, Tiger—someone’s already started gathering evidence. As a Jiangzhou native, I’ve said all I can. Mr. Wang, walk too many dark roads, and sooner or later you’ll get ambushed. I hope you understand.”

So Ma Siwei was this tough? Did she really have such sway?

Yang Changfeng had thought Wang Hu was just a minor character sent to give him a hard time. Now he realized that even the pop diva used him for practice in sharp retorts. Should he be honored, being put on the same level as her?

Rumors online said Ma Siwei’s background was with the largest entertainment conglomerate in the country. It seemed the rumors were true. In that world, those who dared to go on the offensive were either known for their blunt honesty or for being utterly shameless—but almost always, they had powerful backers. Very few stars dared to speak out just because of their own strong personalities.

Her studio attracted the attention of the Jiangzhou publicity department; it probably wasn’t just because she was a pop diva.

This woman was far from harmless.

She looked at Yang Changfeng, her gaze cold—there was a hint of disdain as she turned to Wang Hu. “I don’t know your rules, and I don’t care to. But it’s clear your conflict runs deep—that’s your business. I’m only here because the company arranged it. As for being a mediator, I don’t think I’m qualified. If you two need guns, use guns; if you need knives, use knives. If someone like you, Tiger, gets slapped in the face and still needs a go-between, then I’m even less qualified to mediate. Don’t you agree?”

She was sharp, but that was expected—Jiangzhou people were known for it.

But trying to sow discord was out of line.

Yang Changfeng said coolly, “I think you’re talking nonsense.”

“Mr. Yang, you could be more polite. At least then people wouldn’t despise you. Don’t you think?” Ma Siwei snapped, annoyance flaring.

In this industry, no matter the dirt behind the scenes, people always maintained a veneer of civility—gentlemanly, ladylike. To call someone’s words nonsense to their face was a prerogative reserved for only the most seasoned directors.

“Oh? Aren’t you talking nonsense?” Yang Changfeng shot back, “When did a performer suddenly become royalty? Who do you think you are? If you want to strut into this filthy circle, stop pretending to be a princess. You think you’re Han Meimei? Still, at least you know your place, not fighting to be mediator. Good for you.”

Ma Siwei’s shoulders shook with fury. What kind of person was this? Say a word to him, and he’d fire back ten.

“You’re discriminating against actors!” she exclaimed. “I’ll sue you.”

“No, I’m not discriminating against actors. Many actors are true artists. I only look down on performers—what people now call ‘celebrities.’” Yang Changfeng shrugged, one eyebrow raised mockingly. “You can spread the word if you like: a lowly security guard openly scorns a top celebrity, calls her a performer. Doesn’t bother me in the least. If it makes you happy, go ahead.”

If only he were strong enough, he’d have loved to snatch those two teapots and smack this man’s face with them a good eighty times.

A faint smile flickered across Wang Hu’s lips. They were quarreling now—good. As long as there was contact, even if it was hostile, it was a start.

“Oh, Captain Wang, I almost forgot—better get to the hospital. I played a little trick just now. I switched the two secret compartments in your teapot. Haven’t you noticed how hot you feel?” Having taken a jab at Ma Siwei, Yang Changfeng turned his attention back to Wang Hu.

Wang Hu’s eyes widened. He hurriedly opened the teapot and peered inside, but nothing seemed amiss. Still, Yang’s words weren’t wrong—he did feel waves of heat coursing through him.

What was going on?

The teapot had been right under his nose the whole time; he hadn’t even opened the lid. When had Yang managed to tamper with it?

Yang Changfeng smiled, fixing Wang Hu with a playful gaze. “I told you not to play these games. Otherwise, I’ll send you to join those useless subordinates of yours—they won’t even recognize you. But you didn’t listen. There’s nothing more to say. Tomorrow morning, I expect you in the gym. Don’t make me come to your office to drag you out. Understood?”

Sweat beaded on Wang Hu’s forehead. Who was this Yang—man or ghost?

He seemed to know everything. No scheme could shake him. Where on earth had that woman Chen found such a formidable expert?

“What do you want? Name your price. I don’t want us to destroy each other,” Wang Hu stammered. His confidence was shattered. He clutched the clay teapot tightly, trembling.

It seemed this man had come specifically for him—was it fate?

Mysterious origins, fists like iron, immune to both threat and persuasion—and utterly impossible to deal with. What was he supposed to do?

Ma Siwei was shocked. She didn’t know Yang’s background, but she knew he wasn’t a big name in Jiangzhou’s underworld. She hadn’t come just to do Wang Hu a favor; she’d had no choice.

Since starting her own studio this year, the company had stopped giving her resources. If she didn’t follow orders, she’d be shelved indefinitely.

Worse, she’d offended someone she absolutely couldn’t afford to cross. Without the company’s support, she might not even be able to report to a set in a few days, much less talk about her career.

She’d thought she’d be facing a classic underworld negotiation like on TV, yet instead, a total stranger was openly challenging the notorious Wang Hu—and seemed to have the upper hand.

Just who was this man, to wield such power and intimidation?