Damn It! The Main Shou Turned Me Gay! (Showbiz) - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Want Me to Act?!

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Inside the filming studio, Qi Wenyan leaned casually against the doorway, thoroughly enjoying the trending topics on his phone.

So this is what it feels like to trend online.

Ever since the casting announcement had exploded onto the trending list, the other side hadn’t let up. Over the past few days, they’d methodically and patiently pushed out waves of smear campaigns.

Yet despite all the hate traffic, thanks to Chu Zhiyu’s stunning looks, a surprising wave of fans had emerged among the hate comments—dubbed “Imperial Orange” stans:

“Though Consort Chu may be foolish, his beauty is undeniable. Should I forgive him for that? Will it spoil him?”

Qi Wenyan read aloud from the comments under Chu Zhiyu’s Weibo post, enunciating each word dramatically while trying to hold back his laughter.

“Xiao Chu, the comments all say—‘this is only human nature!’”

Chu Zhiyu was in the middle of getting his hair and makeup done. He couldn’t even move his eyes and could only let out a helpless laugh, whining softly, “Qi-ge…”

Qi Wenyan cleared his throat, realizing maybe he shouldn’t tease the kid too much. Swiftly changing the subject, he offered, “Judging from the current public opinion, the two Wu idiots are probably fuming. If you don’t want to push things too far, we can take a gentler route—a calm, strategic statement.”

The quickest and most effective way to draw public attention and slap back at haters? A high-impact trailer.

After all, what could be more eye-catching than a sneak peek of a never-before-seen scene from Qi Wenyan’s new drama?

Of course, it’s rare for a production team to make such a bold move before filming has even wrapped. You’d have to be either incredibly gutsy—or totally nuts.

So Director Li An had gritted his teeth and, in one day, visited every nearby temple and Taoist shrine to pray for smooth sailing. Then he threw the rest of the casting duties at the assistant director, raced to contact stylists and costume designers, all for the sake of a glorious counterattack video.

If all went well, their series would never suffer from lack of publicity again.

The first shot fired was to be Qi Wenyan’s Weibo statement.

For a newcomer like Chu Zhiyu, a soft, strategic approach was the most appropriate. Even if the other side backed off, Qi Wenyan wouldn’t blame him at all.

But Chu Zhiyu only smiled, and while the makeup artist was distracted choosing eyeshadow, he winked quickly at Qi Wenyan and said:

“Qi-ge, I’m waiting to repost your statement.”

There wasn’t the slightest hint of doubt in his eyes—only pure, unwavering trust.

Qi Wenyan raised an eyebrow and tapped send.

“Don’t worry, Xiao Chu—I’ve got you.”

Normally, screenwriters don’t have the same level of followers as actors. But Qi Wenyan was no ordinary writer—his life was practically a real-life power fantasy. Add in his undeniably handsome looks leaked through behind-the-scenes photos, and…

As it turns out, Qi Wenyan’s personal account had 100k more followers than Chu Zhiyu, the actual lead actor.

His statement was brief and to the point:

Qi Wenyan V: “This is my script. No room for nepotism.”

The moment he posted it, his phone nearly crashed from all the incoming notifications. He just turned the app off and wandered over to watch the stylist work on Chu Zhiyu’s costume.

The calm lasted for all of two minutes before the dressing room door slammed open.

Director Li An burst in, practically radiating joy. He charged up to Qi Wenyan, grabbing his hand and shaking it excitedly:

“Qi bian!!”

Qi Wenyan made a modest gesture. “Just the basics, Director. No need to exaggerate.”

Li An beamed. “You should’ve seen the response! The moment your badass statement dropped—BOOM—netizens went wild! Once we drop the teaser, we’ll slap everyone’s face across the entire internet!”

Then Li An’s tone shifted slightly. “So… I discussed it with the team, and we think this debut could be even more stunning.”

Qi Wenyan felt a chill creep up his spine.

Li An’s burning gaze landed on him.

And then it came.

“Qi bian, the actor playing Master Qingyuan fractured his leg during his morning run. We can’t find a last-minute replacement who fits, and you are the only one familiar with the script and perfect for the role!”

Qi Wenyan: “…”

Oh you two-faced bastard. So much for being the “honest type”!

Qi Wenyan protested: “Has there ever been a general who threw his own strategist into battle, huh?!”

Li An sighed, squeezing out fake tears. “If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t come to you, Qi bian! Isn’t our top priority launching this teaser as soon as possible? Don’t you want to avenge yourself properly?”

“…Avenge myself?” Qi Wenyan gave a slow, dangerous smile. “What plan?”

Li An shivered instinctively and quickly corrected himself: “I mean, your righteous revenge campaign, of course.”

Qi Wenyan gave a short hum, magnanimously letting it go.

At that moment, a soft breeze drifted in behind them.

Chu Zhiyu had finished changing and walked over, eyes lit up with excitement.

“Qi-ge, are you really going to act with me?”

Qi Wenyan was about to deny it when—

“Still discussing!” Li An cut him off with a desperate shout, like he feared Qi Wenyan might bolt.

Qi Wenyan: “…”

Thank you, Xiao Chu, for that perfect assist.

Li An shot the young lead actor a discreet thumbs up, then turned to fan the flames further:

“Qi bian, Qingyuan Daoist is Feng Xiao’s mentor. It’s not a big role, but a key one. We needed someone with chemistry—and since netizens already say you two look perfect standing next to each other, imagine how good you’ll look in costume! This role was made for you!”

Off to the side, the makeup artist gave him a look.

Does this director know what he’s saying?

Qi Wenyan looked visibly conflicted.

“Qi-ge…”

Chu Zhiyu tugged gently on his sleeve, looking a bit nervous. “This is the first time I’ve ever gotten so much attention. What if people don’t like my performance…”

That was it—the final straw.

Qi Wenyan turned to Li An and deadpanned, “Fine. But this is just a fill-in. You must find a proper actor for the role afterward.”

Li An was so ecstatic he could’ve set off fireworks. All he could do was nod furiously:

“Absolutely, Qi bian, I’ll make the casting director double-time it!”

He’d thought from the beginning that Qi Wenyan would be perfect for this role, and now it was finally happening!

—

Two hours later, Qi Wenyan was tugging at the long sleeves of his wide-sleeved robe, clearly uncomfortable.

The stylist batted his fidgeting hands away and barked, “Chin up! Chest out! Back straight! One hand behind you, now tilt your head at a 45-degree angle to the sky!”

Qi Wenyan followed the instructions, twisting into a human pretzel.

The stylist: …God really is fair. He gave Qi bian a beautiful face and unmatched talent for writing… but took away his acting skills.

Seeing the look in the stylist’s eyes, Qi Wenyan gave up with a wave. “Alright, thank you. I’ll go check on Xiao Chu’s shoot instead.”

Qi Wenyan only had a short appearance in the teaser—the main burden of the video fell on Chu Zhiyu.

He wondered if the kid was nervous handling such a big role for the first time.

In the filming studio—

The moment the camera rolled, Chu Zhiyu transformed completely:

The camera pans through the falling bamboo leaves scattered by sword aura, revealing a red-robed swordsman casually twirling his blade.

Feng Xiao turns and smiles toward the camera.

“Master.”

“Cut! Perfect!”

Director Li An clapped in satisfaction.

Qi Wenyan walked in just as this scene wrapped.

The young man was radiant, effortlessly charismatic.

Chu Zhiyu glanced up and met Qi Wenyan’s gaze across the bustling set.

Their eyes locked across the room—an instant of silent connection.

Those eyes, so familiar from long ago, now reflected only him.

Chu Zhiyu froze for a moment, overwhelmed by a feeling he couldn’t name.

“Yes! That’s the look!” Li An shouted from behind the monitor, slamming his thigh in excitement.

Both Chu Zhiyu and Qi Wenyan snapped back to reality, feeling slightly guilty.

Qi Wenyan casually walked over and clapped Chu Zhiyu on the shoulder. “How do you feel? Still nervous?”

Chu Zhiyu shook his head obediently, though his heart was still fluttering.

From Li An’s perspective, he saw a stunning shot:

A red-clad youth with a high ponytail, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a tall figure in flowing blue-gray robes. Their eyes met in profile, creating a perfect picture.

“Camera! Film this behind-the-scenes! And keep the camera rolling during all takes!”

Li An was already imagining how wildly this footage would blow up online.

His joy, however, was short-lived.

As filming resumed, Qi Wenyan walked into frame—completely out of sync—arms and legs moving in unison.

With a serious face, he delivered his line:

“Disc… disciple, would you like to… follow your master down the mountain to buy… some candied chestnuts?”

Li An: “…”

Now he understood the phrase “speechless tears.”

Fortunately, Qi Wenyan realized his own performance was terrible and raised a hand to stop Chu Zhiyu from responding.

Expressionless, he turned to the monitor and muttered, “Li dao… do you regret this yet?”

Honestly, when Qi Wenyan wasn’t moving or talking, his looks were mesmerizing.

Unfortunately, the moment he opened his mouth—it was lethal.

Li An had always worried his precious scriptwriter might accidentally poison himself just licking his lips.

Still… he looked so good.

Li An tried one last time. “Qi bian, you wrote this character. You know Qingyuan Daoist better than anyone. The mischievous side of Feng Xiao is based on you! Try to channel that?”

Qi Wenyan thought for a moment. “I should stroll out from the bamboo hut, lazy and carefree. I call out to Feng Xiao, smile, and deliver the line casually.”

Clap clap clap!

Li An was ecstatic. “See? You do have talent! Just act it out like that!”

Two minutes later…

Qi Wenyan walked back on set, still moving arms and legs in sync.

For the fourth time, Li An screamed, “CUT!!”

Qi Wenyan: “.”

Still, Li An was a seasoned director. He’d seen his share of hopeless actors.

With all the energy he could muster, he waved his arm and shouted to the entire set:

“Feng Xiao! Teach your master how to walk and talk! You’ve got ten minutes!!”