Chapter Forty-Seven: Jin Xishan’s Phone Call

People like Liu Qingshan, whose abilities are unfathomably deep, are far stronger than the bodyguards surrounding Clam. As someone in the know, even without any business dealings, one would never miss the opportunity to forge such a connection.

“Sis, are you saying Clam found out about all this through the mouths of the two Guang brothers?”

On the other end of the line, Jin Xishan replied, “Is there any need to ask? Of course, your apprentice fanned the flames as well.”

“So it wasn’t because I’ll inevitably become an entertainment superstar someday?”

“Ha ha, always joking to cheer up your sister. But I do believe you’ll shine brightly in the future—at least, you’re already famous now!”

“Heh, you mean all the insults about me in the newspapers?”

“Not just the newspapers; several TV stations have launched criticisms—perhaps even full-blown attacks—against you. As soon as I heard, I reported it to Brother Chen Long, but he told me to be patient and wait. When will the plan you discussed be put into action? I’m quite worried about this.”

“No rush. The more fiercely they curse me now, the stronger the reaction will be when the truth comes out. I guarantee that those who sing the loudest praises for me then will be the very same people!”

“That can’t be right. Obviously, these media moves are being orchestrated behind the scenes. Will they really turn around and support you?”

“Why not? Right now, it’s just a few individuals acting on their own. Once the facts are made public, what would happen if the media openly continued their opposition? If the platform wants to ride the wave, wouldn’t they first have to earn my forgiveness?”

“That’s not so certain. The other side holds the power to shape the narrative—black or white, they decide. Your plan with Brother Chen Long might not unfold as smoothly as hoped.”

“No matter how strong they are, they can’t escape the principle of fairness. Maybe some will stubbornly cling to their previous mistakes, but when public opinion grows intense, the relevant platforms will have to correct their bias in time, or risk being shut down by regulators. No one dares to openly defy the voice of the people.”

“Alright, I’ll trust you for now, but I still believe the counterattack should start soon. Negative publicity can’t drag on—everyone in showbiz knows that.”

“Sis, tell me honestly: aren’t you secretly glad my fame is small? Otherwise, the storm would have been much bigger.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. I’ve been thinking that myself. From what I hear, many people don’t care about this matter—they don’t even know who’s being talked about. Even if someone finds out the drama is ‘Legend,’ hardly anyone in my team has asked me about it.”

Jin Xishan was currently in the cast of “The Song Dynasty Magistrate.” Though filming hadn’t formally begun, the main actors had a few days of history lessons to learn about Song dynasty customs and knowledge.

She was studying Song-era etiquette and attire at a university in the capital, just as Liu Qingshan had predicted. Her fame was so great that the director hired her almost without an audition, though Sun Cheng’s recommendation was also crucial.

“Has the male lead for ‘The Song Dynasty Magistrate’ been finalized?”

“He Bing—I've heard of him before. He’s a very capable actor, and a good person too!”

“He Bing? Not very famous, but truly talented. If the script is good, he might shoot to stardom!”

“I’ve read the script. Sister Huizhen says it’s the boldest anti-corruption drama in our country so far. Though it’s a period piece, it’s full of suspense and strange, shocking cases, forming a realistic detective story with explosive potential!”

Jin Xishan referred to Park Huizhen, her senior at the Kyoto branch office.

“A realistic detective drama?”

“Yes, it’s the legendary story of Song Ci, the forefather of forensic science. Supposedly, it’s all well-documented!”

“That’s wonderful. The greatest advantage of this kind of script is avoiding logical flaws in the plot. Stories that survive centuries must have been refined by countless generations!”

“My company was thrilled when they got the news, precisely for this reason. Landing a historical drama is what they secretly hoped for, because only mainland shows of this kind have a real chance of being picked up by Korean TV stations these days.”

“This came directly from your company?”

“They called me and said so outright—their intention to win me over was obvious!”

“That’s natural. Facing such a huge market in China, if your company can secure a project that matters more than profit, you’ve gained a foothold. Renewing your contract becomes their top priority!”

“To be honest, I’m wavering myself—not just because of their attitude. Looking back, the company has genuinely treated me well.”

“Strictly speaking, terminating your contract isn’t the only option. The best solution would be to renegotiate with looser terms, continuing your artist contract. That way, when you want to return to Korea, you won’t have to seek a new company for performance contracts.”

Whether Liu Qingshan goes to Korea or Jin Xishan comes to the mainland, having a local media company as a sponsor makes it much easier to obtain a performance license and qualify for approval as a foreign artist.

Otherwise, the special approval process is cumbersome—the difference in time and effort between the two approaches is like night and day.

For actors from any foreign country, the administrative process can be exhausting. If someone with ulterior motives deliberately blocks the way, one must also guard against all sorts of disasters.

With a qualified local partner, many steps are avoided, and it’s easier to get an invitation letter for a work visa.

The invitation letter is a fast track for entry visas, eliminating the need to prepare stacks of application documents, which are the easiest reason for a visa to be denied.

So when Liu Qingshan said this, Jin Xishan, who understood the intricacies, suddenly became attentive. “Shanzi, you mean there’s a way to reach a solution that satisfies everyone?”

“Since you don’t want to completely sever ties with your old company, this is the best way. The contract terms would have to change, though—the other side must lower their requirements.”

“That’s too good to be true. This is business; no company would willingly give up their rightful interests for no reason.”

“That’s why we can adjust our previous discussions. Maybe we can find terms that suit both sides better!”

“That’s easy to say, but my company is the largest in Korea, with a huge staff and thorough legal expertise. It’s not as if we two can easily gain the upper hand!”

“It’s not so dire. However perfect their regulations, they must also consider long-term interests, so we aren’t in a hurry—we’ll wait for the right opportunity.”

“Is there really such a chance? Seems the more popular I get in the mainland, the less willing they are to let me go.”

“And don’t forget me, Sis. If I start getting famous too, wouldn’t that affect their decision?”

“You? Shanzi, aren’t you planning to sign with your own company? Wait, there’s also an overseas agency contract—are you eyeing the Korean market as well?”

Jin Xishan was sharp enough to catch on before Liu Qingshan finished explaining.

“That’s not strange, Sis. My future career could include Hollywood, and the possibility of stepping into Korea is high!” Liu Qingshan replied.

“My mood improved suddenly. That’s right—when it comes to martial arts choreography, even though you’re not famous yet, your skills alone would let you make a name for yourself in our country. In this area, Hong Kong’s standards are the highest!”

“Heh, pure martial arts choreography isn’t enough to impress your company. But with ‘Legend’ already filmed, I should have some reputation in Korea, right?”

“Not just that film, but the upcoming ‘Kill Zone’ as well. Both can be leveraged, and with your abilities, you have the conditions to become a star.”

“Stardom might be a stretch. You know, martial prowess alone isn’t enough. In ‘Kill Zone’ I’m one of the three leads, but who knows if my acting will measure up?”

“I remember you said you’ve been in many productions?”

“But never had a single line! I have no foundation in dialogue delivery, let alone stage positions or body language. We can talk about this among ourselves, but don’t let outsiders hear—it’d be a joke.”

Liu Qingshan reminded her with a bitter laugh.

Jin Xishan chuckled, “Don’t belittle yourself like that. I’ve watched your filming lately; your facial expressions are improving rapidly. Your acting doesn’t seem awkward, and for martial arts action films, acting isn’t the main thing anyway.”

“That’s why I dared to take on ‘Kill Zone.’ With my martial arts background, I can cover up my shortcomings as much as possible.”

Judging by her tone, Jin Xishan didn’t care much for his worries and quickly changed the topic.

“In any case, I have total confidence in you! By the way, I must tell you—I've secured a unit for you in Phoenix City, number 1108 on the twenty-third floor. The keys are with Sister Huizhen. I’ll text you the detailed addresses of your home and the Kyoto branch office in a bit!”

“So you’ll join the crew before I get back? What role are you playing?”

“I fly out tomorrow. In the drama, I play Zhuyinggu—the daughter of Zhumeiting, who was murdered in Meicheng. She meets the protagonist Song Ci while seeking justice for her father and becomes his assistant.”

“The leading female role? Surely the director wouldn’t give you such a major part for your first work in the mainland?”

“Heh, you’re absolutely wrong—it is the leading female role! And it wasn’t acquired through connections, either!”

Liu Qingshan could clearly sense the pride in Jin Xishan’s playful voice on the other end of the line.

He immediately asked in surprise, “Wasn’t it Sun Cheng who put in a word for you?”