Chapter 127: The Secret Leaks!

Even though Jiang Lun had not promoted it at all, nor even posted a single Weibo, the news that *My Own Swordsman* had begun filming spread like wildfire.

On the internet, the news first broke on a film and television forum. This group of netizens included many capable individuals, and rumor had it that there were even internal employees from the State Administration of Radio and Television (SARFT) among them. In China, hundreds of new productions begin filming every month. Whether they are big-budget projects or small independent ones—be it a film, a television series, a web drama, or even a short film—the production team must submit the title and a synopsis to SARFT to obtain a permit before cameras can roll. SARFT’s website updates the list of licensed productions daily, and netizens use this to hunt for news about new projects.

In fact, the title *My Own Swordsman* had appeared on the list published by SARFT a few days prior. However, because no announcements had been made and no celebrities had mentioned participating in the project, nobody paid much attention to it. But then, a highlighted post appeared on the film forum, and the project suddenly exploded into a topic of heated debate.

The post not only exposed the production company—Jiang Lun’s studio—and its shareholder structure, but also uncovered the investors behind *My Own Swordsman*: Jiang Lun and Liu Xiahui. The pairing of these two names immediately became major news.

"My god! Is this Jiang Lun the same one who sings?"
"It must be. Liu Xiahui invested too, which means this is a Yida self-produced show!"
"Jiang Lun is getting involved, too? It seems film and television will always be the golden goose of the entertainment industry. Even a newly famous rookie can't wait to jump in. Sigh, I just wonder what kind of mess it will be."
"It’s strange, why hasn’t there been any promotion? Has filming started? Which stars did they hire?"
"Yeah, this doesn't feel like Yida’s usual style!"
"Produced by Jiang Lun Studio? Heh... I have zero expectations for this show!"
"*My Own Swordsman*? Judging by the title, is it a period drama?"
"Yida’s self-produced shows are always shoddily made. Look at *Fair Lady of the City*, what was that? It was garbage!"
"Heh, we call it garbage, but the fans don't agree. Don't you see it's still in the top three for ratings?"
"It’s just mindless entertainment for the brainless. When will Yida ever produce something decent?"

Once the forum exposed it, the news caught fire on Weibo as well. The title *My Own Swordsman* instantly became a trending topic.

A well-known influencer, "Film Buff Watches TV," posted on Weibo: "After rookie singer Jiang Lun established his own studio, he’s not focusing on music but on film and television. He’s partnering with Yida for a show called *My Own Swordsman*. I guess Yida found inspiration in the tacky, cliché-ridden *Fair Lady of the City*—which still managed to crush the ratings—and is now ready to take the 'tacky period drama' to the extreme. I wonder what role Jiang Lun will play. He did have a supporting role in *Fair Lady of the City*; has he found his true calling in acting?"

Another influencer, "The Old Drunkard in the Industry," also posted, directly lashing out: "The film and television industry is being ruined by capital! Jiang Lun, why aren't you going back to singing properly instead of making TV shows? Is that face of yours even material for a lead actor?"

Xu Yi, the director of *The Year of Graduation*, also posted: "Congratulations! I wish you a smooth shoot and high ratings! I have high hopes for *My Own Swordsman*!" As a director signed to Yida, and with *The Year of Graduation* having finished its run while he worked on a new project, he naturally had to speak up for his employer when he saw the news on Weibo. Like Xu Yi, many industry insiders publicly praised the show without knowing the facts—not out of respect for Jiang Lun, but out of respect for Liu Xiahui.

With various positive and negative comments flooding Weibo, netizens began a heated discussion. Jiang Lun’s fan base rushed to the front lines immediately.

"What? A TV show? Is he the lead? Where are the character stills? When does it start filming?"
"I'm so excited! I'm so excited!"
"I watched *Fair Lady of the City* the other day and cried during the scene where Jiang Lun recited poetry. He was so handsome! I heard he wrote that poem himself. I wonder if there will be scenes like that in the new show?"
"He just finished promoting his new album and is already filming a TV show. Isn't that too rushed? My heart aches for Jiang Lun, I hope he doesn't burn himself out!"
"Who is the female lead? Are there any intimate scenes? Hehe!"

Ever since the fan club was formed, comments about Jiang Lun on Weibo were no longer suppressed. The fans were highly unified; for example, the comment section under "The Old Drunkard in the Industry" was completely overrun with backlash, forcing him to delete his inflammatory post. As for someone like Xu Yi, his posts usually received only a few hundred, or at best a thousand, comments in the past. But now, it broke the five-thousand mark in minutes, with comments begging for insider information flooding in. Unfortunately, Xu Yi could only offer a bitter smile; he didn't know the inside scoop himself, so how could he comment?

On Yiting Music, the Jiang Lun fan community also pinned a post about *My Own Swordsman*. Although there was internal news about the project at the company, there had been no definitive answer, so it had never been announced. Now that fans were asking, the core staff members could no longer sit still; they contacted Wu Chaoyang and went to pester Mai Le, but none of them knew how to answer. In the end, Mai Le had to call Jiang Lun.

"Lun, I can't hold them off anymore. The fans are all asking about *My Own Swordsman*. You need to get on Weibo and say something!"
"What?"
Jiang Lun had been staying with the production crew for the past few days, effectively cut off from the outside world, and was completely unaware of the public discourse. When he logged onto Weibo and took a look, he was shocked by the severity of the situation. He had intended to keep it a secret, but it was impossible to contain; all sorts of guesses and fabricated rumors were flying everywhere. Some said he would be the male lead, others claimed he would play two roles, and some even suggested he was playing the main villain and that investing in the show was just a side project.

Seeing this, Jiang Lun didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He didn't want to reveal the truth too early, so he posted a vague Weibo update, saying that the show was indeed invested in and produced by him, but that the filming plan was still being drafted and he would announce further details as soon as they were confirmed.

His statement only made the topic more popular. Because at least one thing was certain: Jiang Lun’s studio was indeed making a TV show. Previous theories about him focusing on music were debunked. And to the fans, the idea of him doing a TV show was something they were more than happy to see. In the current entertainment industry, if a star doesn't appear on variety shows or act in films and TV series, they aren't considered truly "famous." It doesn't matter if you are a singer or a host—you have to do a bit of everything. Fans are so accustomed to this that they think it’s strange if you aren't doing it.

That’s how the Chinese entertainment industry works: popularity comes first, and the work comes second. Unlike abroad, where a singer might fade away if they don't have new songs, in China, if a singer lacks work, they can transition into acting. If they can't act, they can host shows or become a regular guest on reality shows as a comedian. If all else fails, they can shoot commercials, take endorsements, or walk red carpets at various international award ceremonies to get exposure.

If that still doesn't work, they can open their own fashion brands, post on Weibo incessantly to grab attention, and compete with internet celebrities for a living. In any case, the Chinese entertainment industry has no limits; as long as you can maintain your popularity and are willing to play the game, there are many ways to sustain a career.

For Jiang Lun, there were many paths to choose from. He had already worn the hats of a singer and an author, and now he was a television producer. However, he didn't want to build his popularity through hype; he wanted to produce genuine quality. For instance, if *My Own Swordsman* were to be a piece of trash just to add a title to his resume in the TV industry, he wouldn't do it. If he was going to do it, he would achieve something that made people give him a thumbs-up—not because of his popularity, but because of the show itself. This was why he had been hiding the specific details of the production.

But some things don't go according to plan. Not long after he posted his Weibo message, Mai Le called him again. This time it was still about the TV show, but regarding investments.

"Lun, Master Wang’s Herbal Tea called me just now. They asked when you’re starting, if you’re playing the lead, and said they want to sponsor the show with advertisements!"
"Ad sponsorship..." Jiang Lun rubbed his temples. "How do you plug a beverage into a period situational comedy?"
"That doesn't matter!" Mai Le laughed. "People drank tea in ancient times, didn't they? You don't even need to show the product; just having the five characters 'Master Wang's Herbal Tea' appear is enough. For example, you could set up a character named Master Wang who sells herbal tea..."
"Come on, come on... Don't you know Master Wang's Herbal Tea always claims its recipe dates back to the Qing Dynasty, a century-old brand?" Jiang Lun laughed bitterly. "Are you trying to write a time-travel story?"
"Hey, what’s the big deal? Did no one drink herbal tea before the Qing Dynasty? They did! Don't get hung up on the details!" Mai Le said. "They said they can give you two million in advertising fees!"
"Two million?" Jiang Lun’s eyes shifted. "Tell them... tell them I’m not the lead. I feel a bit bad taking that much money given the circumstances!"
"Fine, I’ll negotiate with them. But I’m telling you, our show is already hot just from the title alone. I heard Wu already received calls from many other advertisers. You need money to burn for the production anyway, right?"
"I know. Tell Master Wang we accept, and we'll consider the others later."

Though he said that, Jiang Lun was actually happy. Who would turn down money? No sooner had he hung up the phone than another call came in. It was an unfamiliar long-distance number, and he didn't recognize the area code, but since only a few people had his private number, Jiang Lun answered.

"Hello?"
"Excuse me, is this Mr. Jiang Lun?" a woman’s voice asked on the other end.
"Yes, it is. Who is this?"
"Hello, hello! I am Meng Huan, the acquisitions director for Jiangnan TV. We met when you came to record the show last time!"