Chapter Sixty-Five: The Press Conference Begins

“Sister Huizhen, I’ll remember you too. You’ve been the one arranging everything from start to finish.”
Liu Qingshan hadn’t forgotten the role Park Huizhen played in all this.
“It’s enough that you remember. But I won’t show up this afternoon. After all, I’m a foreigner, and I worry that someone might seize on that to stir up trouble.”
At this moment, Park Huizhen put aside her usual casual manner and didn’t retort.
Just as Liu Qingshan was starting to understand, Lawyer Wang chuckled, “After today, your connection to Jin Xishan will be well known. You’ll become the focus of attention everywhere. She’s a superstar in Korea, after all!”
Soon it was three o’clock. After arriving in Park Huizhen’s company car, Liu Qingshan quietly appeared at the side entrance of Studio Eight with Wang Huansheng.
The press conference was scheduled to begin at 3:10, and already a dense crowd could be seen at the main door.
These people had all been contacted by Park Huizhen, and among them was even a team of reporters from Korea.
Calling them a team was no exaggeration—their professional film crew stood out among the crowd. Even a brief glance from the car made it clear they were different.
Compared to the domestic photographers, their equipment was superior. Their tripods were German brands Sachtler and Miller, not the usual domestic Lipa or Turis.
Their cameras didn’t use adapters and SD cards, but original memory cards.
The LCD screens had proper sunshades, not makeshift cigarette boxes.
As soon as Studio Eight opened and the reporters poured in, the Korean crew’s professionalism became even more apparent.
Each cameraman knew exactly what to do and quickly found their spot.
This stark contrast to the guerrilla-style domestic reporters made it clear they had come prepared.
Although Liu Qingshan was momentarily surprised by the lack of advance notice from Park Huizhen, he quickly regained composure.
Foreign reporters usually bring their own translators, so his brief concern soon disappeared.

As expected, before the temporary host sent by the TV station announced the start, a Korean representative stood up and asked, “Mr. Liu, when the event begins, I may need to interpret in Korean. Please make it convenient for me!”
The local reporters were surprised, but not puzzled.
Current public opinion contained not only negative news about Liu Qingshan but also rumors about Jin Xishan facing mortal danger on set.
Few knew that Liu Qingshan was part of the crew for the film “Myth,” or what his connection was to Jin Xishan’s incident.
Someone must have spread rumors in the past two days, vaguely linking the two events.
But with computers not yet widely used, rumors still circulated by word of mouth, newspapers, and television.
So most people had only heard a little about it.
Afraid the Korean reporters’ unexpected appearance might anger the domestic press, Liu Qingshan quickly gestured for the man to sit.
“I don’t know why your country’s reporters are here, but since we wish to attract attention from the media and other parties, your presence is appreciated. However, since we didn’t prepare for this, the Q&A session won’t accommodate foreign journalists. Please understand.”
His words drew appreciative looks from the domestic reporters.
After all, this was just a fact-clarification meeting.
It was a family matter; whether certain things were said depended greatly on whether foreign reporters were present.
But the Korean representative was not pleased. “Reporters from any country have the right to attend. Especially at a public press conference like this. I protest Mr. Liu’s hasty decision!”
“Your protest is pointless,” Liu Qingshan replied with a smile. “I don’t know who leaked the news to you, but perhaps there’s some misunderstanding. Today’s meeting is simply for clarification—there’s no international relation involved at all.”
He knew exactly what was going on, even if it was only speculation.
But he had to show he was prioritizing local media, otherwise someone might frame him for something he didn’t do.
Just as he said, “protest is pointless.” Whether he agreed or not didn’t really affect the outcome, since he had already distanced himself.
With that, he turned his attention to the host.

Following Park Huizhen’s instructions, all unexpected incidents at the scene were to be handled by the host.
The host’s role was to give the opening remarks, guide the press conference, and represent the organizers’ intentions.
Sure enough, before the Korean could react further, the host spoke with a gentle smile, “Mr. Liu Qingshan is correct. This press conference has its own rules and scope of discussion. We ask our friends from Korea to understand.”
The host’s name was Xu Danni, the only presenter of a celebrity talk show on the Capital TV station. She was attractive and sweet, always smiling even before she spoke.
She continued, “But considering the unexpected circumstances, I can respond in advance: if questions about your country’s artists do arise, you may be accommodated. After all, guests from afar are always treated kindly in China!”
Seeing the translator satisfied and sitting down again, Xu Danni glanced at her watch and officially announced the start of the press conference.
Following the agenda, Liu Qingshan opened his prepared speech, reading aloud the reasons for holding the conference and the impact of false reports.
Next came the reporter Q&A.
A female reporter raised her hand first: “Mr. Liu, do you have direct evidence of the false reports?”
Liu Qingshan shook his head and sighed, “To be honest, no. But I can recall the scene and describe how I was belittled by the director Dou Feiwen and host Yuan Siruo of Shanxi TV’s ‘Entertainment Interview.’”
The room fell silent, but as Liu Qingshan slowly described what happened, a murmur of discussion quietly arose.
No one questioned his statements, for he boldly named those present, hinting at the truth of the matter.
Besides, his description of the snobbishness of the platform was common in today’s entertainment industry.
It wasn’t a matter of who would speak out, but a well-known reality.
If you’re not famous, you get no screen time, and people don’t even know your name—a tacit rule of the industry, not an accident but the norm.
After his account, Liu Qingshan emphasized again, “The purpose of today’s press conference is not to express anger at being treated differently, but to address the series of false reports initiated by these two afterwards, which have caused me tremendous harm...”