Chapter 43 Whoever Touches It Dies

*Snap!*

A faux-Tang Dynasty white jade horse was heavily smashed onto the floor.

Even with the cushioning of the thick carpet, it shattered with a web of fine cracks.

"Are we just going to let that bastard Xu run his mouth off online like this? He has already brought massive negative publicity to our company."

Wang Zhonglei glared at his older brother, Wang Zhongjun, speaking with undisguised rage.

"Then what do you expect me to do? He's currently holed up at Benshan Media, and with that man surnamed Zhao protecting him, who can lay a hand on him right now?"

"And as for those media outlets and websites, do you have any idea how much money it would take to shut them all up? The entire industry is waiting to make a spectacle of us right now. The more critical this moment is, the more we need to keep our composure."

Wang Zhongjun analyzed the situation calmly, showing not a shred of impulsiveness.

As for his younger brother's private affairs, anyone even slightly connected to the inner circle of the industry already knew about them; it was simply the first time they had been exposed to the general public.

That being said, where on earth did a scoundrel like Xu Ming dig up that intelligence?

Could it be...

The figure of a certain director surnamed Teng flashed through his mind, but he shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on that.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing. If things keep going this way, who's going to listen to us anymore?" Wang Zhonglei demanded.

The reason Huayi was hailed as the leading private entertainment giant in mainland China lay in its strength of gathering a cluster of private entertainment companies around them like stars orbiting the moon.

Rooted deeply in the Beijing entertainment circle, resources only circulated within their exclusive group.

Yet if Xu Ming were allowed to carry on like this, Huayi's authority would inevitably be shaken.

"What is there to panic about? There are plenty of people more anxious than we are. You really need to change that hot-headed temperament of yours. If you keep flying off the handle like this, you're bound to take a massive tumble sooner or later."

"So many other people spoke up earlier and got away scot-free, but the moment it was your turn, you got singled out and made into a live target. Do you have any idea how unjust it is that the company got dragged down because of you?"

Wang Zhongjun scolded his younger brother with exasperation, though in his heart, his hatred for Xu Ming was burning fiercely.

If that jerk had cursed everyone in general, it would be one thing, but he had specifically singled out Huayi alone.

What was the meaning of that?

Did he take them for soft persimmons to be kneaded at will?

"You're talking about those people from Hong Kong, aren't you? I saw right through them ages ago—all bark and no bite, every single one of them only looking out for their own skin. No wonder the Hong Kong film industry used to be so prosperous and has now degenerated into this sorry state..." Wang Zhonglei sneered.

"Watch your language and mind your boundaries," Wang Zhongjun glared at his brother.

"There's nobody else here except the two of us, this won't get out..."

Despite saying that, Wang Zhonglei instinctively reached out and switched on the television.

The sound of a news broadcast instantly filled the office.

He flipped through a few channels at random.

"Stop right there."

Wang Zhongjun narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of a face beaten into the shape of a pig's head on the television screen.

"I will never let that punk go! If I hadn't been dead drunk that day, and if they hadn't used their numbers to bully the few of us, one of my hands alone would have been more than enough..."

Du Wenzhe was spouting wild arrogance in front of the Phoenix Television camera.

Right now, the entirety of Hong Kong was abuzz with rumors about how he and Leo Ku had been thoroughly beaten to a pulp by mainlanders—it was a true, unadulterated humiliation of epic proportions.

"See that? The ones rushing to the front lines are stepping up already," Wang Zhongjun said, lifting his chin.

*Knock, knock!*

"Come in."

"Chairman Wang, that blogger you asked me to keep an eye on... has posted again."

The hesitation in the assistant's voice planted a deeply ominous premonition in Wang Zhongjun's chest.

"What did he post? Never mind, hand it over."

The assistant pulled up the blog post on the computer, and both Wang Zhongjun and Wang Zhonglei crowded around to look.

[Shocking! A Comprehensive Count of XX's Outrageous Remarks on Foreign Websites!]

The familiar sensationalist phrasing, the familiar exclamation marks, and the familiar clickbait title designed to make people want to click at first glance.

The two men kept reading, and silence fell over them.

Listed above were screenshots of one outrageous remark after another posted by Du Wenzhe on Facebook.

The posts came complete with both images and text, every single sentence touching upon the absolute red lines.

It would have been one thing if nobody had noticed; everyone could have turned a blind eye and pretended ignorance.

But once these remarks were exposed, it meant it was utterly impossible for Du Wenzhe to ever set foot in the mainland film and television market again.

Along with this blog post, this fellow had essentially turned into a ticking bomb coated in filth.

Forget touching him—even getting close ran the risk of getting splattered all over.

The very first comment in the comment section was left by Xu Ming.

[Xu Da Da Ming: I'm genuinely curious why an actor devoid of any artistic integrity can openly appear on the big screen?]

Utterly ruthless, a single sword strike straight to the throat!

"Vicious! This move by Xu Ming is too vicious! How on earth does he dare? Isn't he afraid..."

Wang Zhonglei ground his teeth. Even when people in the industry had falling-outs, there were unwritten rules; at the very least, they wouldn't routinely expose each other's fatal secrets.

Yet when it came to Xu Ming, every single strike was aimed directly at the jugular.

"Afraid of what? The man is wearing no shoes, so he has nothing to fear from someone wearing boots. What can you possibly do to him?"

"What the hell are you standing there frozen for? Hurry up and issue a statement cutting ties with Du Wenzhe! If we're even a step late, we'll get dragged down into the mire with him," Wang Zhongjun roared.

He had to admit that a sliver of fear had crept into his heart—not just fear of Xu Ming, but of the overwhelming momentum the young man had whipped up.

Furthermore, they had no idea how many more cards that kid was holding up his sleeve.

If this farce continued, who would be thrown to the wolves as a sacrifice next?

The issue was no longer whether Xu Ming was incurring the public wrath; it was what would happen if they continued to provoke him further.

There was no guarantee whose chest the next arrow would pierce.

On the television screen, the beaming Du Wenzhe was talking animatedly halfway through when his manager suddenly grabbed him and pulled him back.

Immediately afterward, the manager shooed the reporters out and slammed the hospital door shut.

"We are unsure what unexpected situation has occurred. It appears Mr. Du Wenzhe is no longer willing to continue accepting our interview," the reporter said to the camera, looking bewildered.

Meanwhile, inside Benshan Media.

Cheng Ye looked at the scene unfolding on screen and burst into roaring laughter, "Hahaha, what else could it be? He offended Brother Ming, that's what."

He then turned to give Xu Ming a thumbs-up, "As expected of Brother Ming, taking down a guy just by sitting comfortably inside a media office."

As one of the direct parties involved, he had been feeling deeply anxious all along, so he had dragged Xiao Shenyang, Song Xiaobao, and the others over to Xu Ming's place to figure out a countermeasure.

Never had he expected that not long after sitting down, they would get to watch a live broadcast drama unfold.

As for the fact that he was born in 1983 and was calling Xu Ming, born in 1989, his "older brother," no one present felt there was anything wrong with it.

"That's not quite right to say. It wasn't me who took him down; it was that blogger online going by the alias [Monday See]. They saw us being bullied and stepped forward to speak out on our behalf out of a sense of justice. We must remember this favor and find a way to repay it later," Xu Ming said earnestly.

His words left the group blinking in confusion, their minds beginning to wonder whether this [Monday See] could genuinely just be a passionate, public-spirited netizen.

"Regardless of who this [Monday See] is, he's the benefactor of us brothers from now on. If I get the chance, I've got to treat him to a round of drinks," Xiao Shenyang remarked with deep emotion, before turning an apologetic look toward Xu Ming, "Xiao Ming, I'm sorry. I stirred up such a massive hornet's nest and brought so much trouble to everyone."

"We are fellow martial arts brothers, so please never say sorry. Without Brother Shenyang's sacrifice, there wouldn't be the Xu Ming of today," Xu Ming patted the other man's shoulder, speaking with profound sincerity.

Xiao Shenyang's face was filled with deep gratitude, though a fleeting trace of puzzlement crossed his mind: Was his contribution really that massive?

Xu Ming leaned back, gazing at the face of Du Wenzhe replaying in the television broadcast, a cold smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

That was the second arrow. He had already prepared a third, and it all depended on whether the other side dared to catch it.