Damn It! The Main Shou Turned Me Gay! (Showbiz) - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Viral on the Trending List

Li An frowned. He wasn’t some clueless simpleton. The moment he saw Qi Wenyan’s message, he’d already begun to suspect the real truth behind the situation.

And now, Chu Zhiyu’s words had all but confirmed some people’s dirty intentions.

Sure enough, after hearing him speak, Wu Feng’s face turned deathly pale.

He stammered out a defense, “I—I came here today just to discuss the script with Editor Qi…”

Apparently believing Qi Wenyan wouldn’t risk his own reputation by exposing what had really happened, Wu Feng calmed down slightly. He whipped out the script in his hands and started defending himself with fervor.

“Director Li, look, I even brought the script with me. How could I have known Editor Qi would not only ignore my ideas completely, but even throw me out of the room in front of everyone!”

The more he spoke, the more self-righteous he became. Wu Feng glared resentfully at Qi Wenyan.

“Even if Editor Qi is talented, does that give him the right to exclude an industry senior like me?”

Chu Zhiyu’s face darkened and he opened his mouth to retaliate, but before he could say anything, Qi Wenyan raised a hand to stop him.

Qi Wenyan gave him a subtle “stay calm” glance, then turned to look at Wu Feng with arms crossed, his tone deliberate and sharp:

“Senior Wu, are you saying that I, a breakout hit with my debut, currently one of the most sought-after new screenwriters in the industry—am jealous of you?”

A stifled snicker came from one of the nearby staff, and Wu Feng’s face went completely black.

Li An quickly stepped in, waving at the crowd, “Alright, back to work, everyone! And no word of this leaves this room. Mr. Wu, someone from production will be in touch shortly to discuss your termination.”

Anyone with a brain would know to shut up and disappear quietly at this point. But Wu Feng clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

As people began to disperse, he panicked and shouted, “I did nothing wrong! Even if you’re Qi Wenyan, you can’t just fire me without reason!”

Qi Wenyan raised a brow in amusement and nudged Chu Zhiyu with his elbow, chuckling, “Wow, look at this guy. Messes up and still tries to pin it on me.”

Chu Zhiyu huffed, “It’s all jealousy. Can’t handle how amazing you are, Qi-ge.”

Qi Wenyan stretched lazily and strolled forward, towering over the now-slumped Wu Feng leaning against the wall.

“Well, since you’re so eager to tell people what happened… I guess I’ll do you the favor.”

Though most of the staff had technically left, they’d clearly only moved a few steps away to eavesdrop. The gossip potential was just too strong.

The next moment, the studio’s “young genius screenwriter” casually dropped a bombshell in a tone you’d use to ask what’s for dinner:

“Wu Feng confessed to me under the pretense of discussing the script. I turned him down, he lost it, and I threw him out the door.”

“!!!”

Those who hadn’t truly left—and were totally pretending to work—collectively made “holy sh*t” faces.

Big. Fat. Drama.

Qi Wenyan sighed in mock frustration. “Wu Feng, come on. You’re not a kid anymore. Someone says ‘no’ and you completely lose it?”

Wu Feng hadn’t expected his “ace card” to be exposed so easily. He froze, lips trembling, all color draining from his face.

Li An rubbed his temples, exasperated. “What are you all still standing around for? Got nothing better to do? Go finish your work or no one’s going home today!”

With the gossip quota filled and orders from the director, the crowd finally dispersed for real, leaving only the four involved.

Li An looked at Qi Wenyan, hesitant. He opened his mouth, paused, then finally said, “Editor Qi, even if you’d said nothing, Wu Feng couldn’t have stayed on this team after today.”

“Why not?”

The question came from Chu Zhiyu.

Li An looked surprised.

Chu Zhiyu explained in a low voice, “If you don’t expose Wu Feng’s lies, even if he’s fired, people might say Editor Qi and you, Director Li, are colluding to suppress a poor, innocent underling. He could flip the narrative, and we’d look like the villains.”

Qi Wenyan looked touched. “Xiao Chu, you’re like the worm in my stomach—you know me inside out.”

Chu Zhiyu shot him a look. “Then why don’t you think about yourself more?”

Qi Wenyan rubbed his nose sheepishly.

Chu Zhiyu continued, “By admitting it yourself, Qi-ge, you control the narrative. Even if there are rumors, most people will focus on your actions. And that makes firing Wu Feng completely justified.”

Li An looked ready to cry. He grabbed Qi Wenyan’s hand with deep emotion, his burly, manly frame trembling.

“Editor Qi!”

Qi Wenyan gave a dashing smile and tried to pull his hand away.

Nothing happened.

Cue frozen smile.jpg.

Thankfully, Chu Zhiyu stepped in, squeezing between them with perfect timing. He looked up at Qi Wenyan with shiny puppy eyes and turned to Li An:

“Director Li, didn’t you say Xu-ge is waiting for you? I’ll stay and look after Editor Qi.”

That finally jogged Li An’s memory. He let go with an “oh, right, right!” and jogged off, throwing compliments over his shoulder about how sensible Chu Zhiyu was.

As soon as Li An was out of sight, Qi Wenyan’s overwhelming need to complain surged to the surface.

He looked around. Only Chu Zhiyu was left.

Sigh.

Qi Wenyan tugged Chu Zhiyu’s sleeve and leaned against the wall to grumble:

“Xiao Chu, tell me—what kind of misfortune magnet have I become?”

First a car accident right after transmigrating. Then he finally gets discharged from the hospital and within an hour of going back to work, almost gets force-loved by a middle-aged man.

This wasn’t a drama. This was psychological warfare.

Chu Zhiyu mumbled, “It’s not Qi-ge’s fault. You’re the best person in the world.”

Qi Wenyan coughed awkwardly and glanced over—only to find the other looking utterly depressed.

He jumped. “What’s wrong, Xiao Chu? Who upset you?”

Chu Zhiyu looked up, pitiful. “Next time something like that happens, can you call me for help?”

Thinking it was a bigger issue, Qi Wenyan immediately nodded and even explained:

“It’s not that I didn’t want to call you! It was production-related, so I thought Director Li would be faster to handle it. Plus, I thought Wu Feng was just here to start some workplace bullying nonsense—not workplace daddy nonsense!”

He clenched his fist in frustration.

Chu Zhiyu’s pout faded by about 50%, but he still mumbled:

“And don’t throw yourself in front of others next time either.”

Qi Wenyan paused, then laughed. “I’m not stupid—”

Mid-sentence, he caught Chu Zhiyu’s accusing stare and changed course:

“…Alright, I promise.” He even held up four fingers in a scout’s pledge.

Once Chu Zhiyu was finally pacified, Qi Wenyan asked, “By the way, who’s that Xu-ge you mentioned earlier?”

“Xu Du,” said Chu Zhiyu. “He’s auditioning for the second male lead.”

Qi Wenyan blinked. “And who’s that?”

Chu Zhiyu blinked too, then patiently explained, “Xu Du, top idol under Star Entertainment. He wrote and performed the OST for your last drama.”

Qi Wenyan nodded slowly. “So I should know him?”

Chu Zhiyu nodded earnestly. “You wrote the lyrics for that song, so yes, you should know him.”

Two seconds passed.

Qi Wenyan smiled faintly. “Silly child. Of course I know Xu Du.”

No lies detected. After all, he had just met Xu Du—one second ago, in theory.

Just then, Li An pinged them in the group chat to summon both the lead screenwriter and the lead actor. Qi Wenyan grabbed Chu Zhiyu and they left, with him using the walk to hurriedly Google and “get to know” his old friend.

Next door, in the waiting lounge

As soon as Qi Wenyan opened the door, he saw a trendy short-haired guy sprawled dramatically on the couch, wearing oversized sunglasses.

Seeing them, Xu Du perked up, ripped off his glasses, and rushed forward to hug him.

“!”

Qi Wenyan instinctively leaned back to dodge, but remembering that this guy was supposed to be a long-time friend, he forced himself to stay still.

Xu Du was stunned. Qi Wenyan didn’t push him away like usual—was this… progress?

But before he could celebrate, someone suddenly yanked Qi Wenyan back.

Chu Zhiyu stepped in front, holding Qi Wenyan protectively, and sweetly greeted, “Hello, Xu-ge!”

Xu Du stumbled, barely keeping his balance, but quickly gathered himself to salvage his seniority.

“Ah, you must be the male lead Wenyan fell in love with at first sight and insisted on casting no matter what!”

Qi Wenyan stood there, stunned. He turned expressionlessly to Li An and asked:

“Did I lose a chunk of memory or something?”

Before he could roast anyone further, Li An suddenly jumped up from the couch like he’d sat on hot coals.

Clutching his phone, he let out a high-pitched shriek.

“Sh*t! We’re screwed!!”

At the same time, the assistant director burst in like he’d seen a ghost. He and Li An locked eyes and screamed in unison.

Only Qi Wenyan and Chu Zhiyu remained bewildered.

Xu Du scratched his head, then looked down at his phone—and his eyes widened.

“This trending topic… wasn’t planted by your PR team?!”

The eighth top trend on the hot search list read:

#QiWenyanNewDramaMaleLead

Clicking into it, the top post was a 500-word gossip thread, supposedly from an “industry insider,” describing how the hotshot screenwriter Qi Wenyan had been absolutely thrilled upon meeting a little-known rookie actor.

The language was so flowery and the content so fabricated that it looked like it came straight out of a tabloid soap.

Worse, the post included nine photos of Chu Zhiyu.

Including one of them having lunch together earlier that day.

Xu Du blinked. “I thought this was some new marketing strategy. Five minutes ago I was telling my agent, ‘See? This is how big-budget projects do PR—starting early and strong…’”

His voice trailed off as realization sank in. He glanced nervously at the two directors—

The assistant director wailed, “Li Dao! Who’s trying to ruin our innocent little production?!”

Li An furiously typed on his phone, trying to call in favors and trace the leak. “Who’s trying to sabotage our rise?! Whose rice bowl did we threaten?!”

Xu Du turned back to the two “calm” parties in the room. “Wenyan, did you piss anyone off lately?”

Qi Wenyan tapped his chin, pondered for a moment, then replied:

“Oh, plenty.”

Xu Du handed him the phone, trying to stay sane. “I meant recently. Any ideas what to do now?”

Qi Wenyan calmly opened the nine-photo grid and zoomed in on one of the lunch shots.

Xu Du held his breath, expecting a brilliant deduction.

Instead, Qi Wenyan furrowed his brows thoughtfully and asked, dead serious:

“You think the photographer climbed a telephone pole across the street to get this angle?”

Xu Du: “…………”