The Breakup Didn’t Stop Me From Owning the World - Chapter 24

Lan Muyu sighed. She knew Fu Yao wouldn’t let her off so easily, but she hadn’t expected to lose a peaceful night’s sleep over it so soon.

The good mood she’d just relaxed into because of Li Ruonan was now completely gone.

Resigned, she opened Weibo, her frown deepening with each scroll.

Noticing the change in Lan Muyu’s expression, Li Ruonan set aside her earlier playfulness and asked seriously, “Did something happen with the crew again?”

“Nothing major. Just some people who can’t stand to see our production doing well.” Lan Muyu shifted her gaze to Li Ruonan, feeling a little more at ease, and added, “Don’t worry, I can handle it myself.”

“If I help, maybe it’ll be resolved faster?”

Lan Muyu pressed her lips together, finally voicing the thought that had been lingering in her mind for a while—one she hadn’t known how to bring up: “You’ll have to go back to Yan City eventually. I can’t always rely on your help, can I?”

Li Ruonan fell silent for a few seconds before speaking slowly, “You could come back with me.”

Go back to Yan City? The thought of her parents’ potential fury crossed her mind, along with the memory of their heartbreak after her death in her past life. Back then, she had been foolish and immature. Now, she wanted to make up for those regrets.

But she didn’t feel ready yet and could only deflect. “We’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

Li Ruonan sensed Lan Muyu’s hesitation but didn’t press the issue. She stood up and ruffled Lan Muyu’s hair. “The little one wants to grow up and doesn’t need my help anymore.”

Lan Muyu swatted her hand away. “Hey, stop petting me like I’m a dog!”

Li Ruonan laughed, teasing, “Dogs don’t have to deal with half the nonsense you do.”

“Are you saying I have it worse than a dog?”

“You said it, not me.”

“You!”

Seeing that Lan Muyu still had the energy to banter, Li Ruonan’s worry eased slightly. She smiled. “Then I’ll head upstairs first. Come find me if you need anything?”

“Mm.” Lan Muyu hesitated, then called out again, “Hey, what about tonight’s—”

“No power outage. But don’t stay up too late, got it?”

“Deal!”

Only after Li Ruonan left did Lan Muyu focus on the trending searches, sifting through the mix of truths and falsehoods in the news. Fortunately, Ling Shan had already compiled the key information, sending Lan Muyu the most critical Weibo posts in chronological order.

It all started with a marketing account’s sarcastic post:

“Why is everyone cracking down on baseless plagiarism accusations while turning a blind eye to false advertising?”

Attached were two images. One showed Lan Muyu’s fans hyping up her “rich heiress” persona and the crew’s lavish spending based on leaked set photos. The other was Lan Muyu’s interview clarifying that the props and set decorations were replicas.

Originally, the fans had been promoting the character Lan Muyu played—a progressive wealthy heiress from the Republican era—which wasn’t an issue.

But the screenshots circulating online showed fans directly labeling Lan Muyu as the heiress without specifying whether it referred to her or her character. At the time, the crew also hadn’t clarified whether the antique props were real, leaving room for malicious parties to exploit the ambiguity…

In the entertainment industry, the downfall of wealthy second-generation personas is a common sight, and netizens love nothing more than seeing celebrities with such backgrounds exposed for their true family circumstances. After all, who doesn’t enjoy watching the wealthy fall from grace?

Somehow, someone started the rumor: “If Lan Muyu were really a wealthy second-generation, would she have been cheated on by Fu Yao from Tianhao Entertainment?” The more this spread, the more people believed it, convinced that Lan Muyu’s fans were just putting on a brave face while hiding their embarrassment.

Netizens were practically using magnifying glasses to dig up every past post from Lan Muyu’s fans, screenshotting every boastful claim they had ever made about her.

With so much gossip circulating daily, most netizens don’t bother scrutinizing the details—many are swayed by headlines alone. Add in the coordinated efforts of the internet water army, and the false advertising allegations against the Limited Edition production team quickly gained traction.

All sorts of rumors got mixed—accusations of the production team being irresponsible, cutting corners to scam money, even outright branding the film as trash.

After the scandal broke during the day, Gu Yan had been closely monitoring online discussions. Seeing the false advertising claims emerge; he immediately planned to issue a clarification to prevent further spread.

But this wasn’t just about the production team—Lan Muyu was specifically targeted. Though Gu Yan was the director, he wasn’t well-versed in managing celebrity image crises, which require much more careful PR handling. Since this involved Lan Muyu’s personal reputation, he reached out to Ling Shan for advice.

Yet, in that short window of time, a new voice emerged online—Jiang Yu, a director notorious for only updating his Weibo when working on a project, suddenly posted!

The renowned director Jiang Yu made a veiled update:

“Honored to collaborate on ‘Shadows of the Republic.’ I will uphold my consistent approach—authenticity and diligence—to complete this work. Your support is greatly appreciated.”

Despite churning out commercial flops in recent years, Jiang Yu had left enough White Moonlight classics in the hearts of film enthusiasts to sustain his legacy. Naturally biased, his words instantly pushed Limited Edition into the eye of the storm.

After all, wasn’t his emphasis on “authenticity and diligence” a direct jab at Limited Edition’s alleged false advertising and desperate attempts to generate hype?

Given the prior Trending search clashes between Limited Edition and Shadows of the Republic, Jiang Yu’s involvement with the latter made his target glaringly obvious.

Faced with a choice between Shadows of the Republic, promising sincerity, and Limited Edition, accused of deception—both demanding the same ticket price—who would willingly waste their money?

Netizens’ favor is fleeting. The goodwill Limited Edition had gained from Lan Muyu’s involvement swiftly crumbled.

Can the production team focus on actual work instead of endless marketing stunts? Aren’t you afraid of backlash?

The false advertising is real. I auditioned for this project—here’s proof of how broke the team is. (Image attached)

Front-row sales: peanuts, melon seeds, pistachios.

Classic directors are still the best. These new ones just stir up drama.

I just searched his works—they’re all web dramas. What kind of quality can you expect from that kind of director? If the work isn’t good enough, isn’t false advertising the only option? Haven’t you noticed that films with genuine promotion end up as web dramas?

I think the actors these days aren’t any better either? I heard the original female lead for Limited Edition wasn’t Lan Muyu but her former co-star. Who knows what methods Lan Muyu used to secure the lead role twice in a row for films?

The director of Limited Edition seems pretty young too—maybe he’s got something going on with Lan Muyu?

I smell a juicy scandal, but I just can’t quite piece it together (honest face)

…

While Lan Muyu was scrolling through these comments, Ling Shan had already called Gu Yan: “Director Gu, Weibo is buzzing with discussions about the crew, and the heat is pretty high. How do you plan to handle it?”

Gu Yan firmly refused: “Our crew doesn’t need controversy for publicity.”

Ling Shan let out a small sigh of relief. Back when she was managing Fu Qian, she’d encountered directors who deliberately smeared actors to generate buzz for their projects. It could skyrocket the crew’s visibility and attract better investments, but for the actor involved, it meant enduring prolonged online harassment.

At the time, Fu Qian hadn’t yet risen to stardom and was just an ordinary idol actor, forced to endure it. Having gone through that experience, Ling Shan was determined not to let Lan Muyu suffer the same fate.

After reaching an agreement on this point, they decided that Gu Yan would issue a clarification, while Ling Shan would coordinate and help amplify the message.

What Ling Shan hadn’t anticipated, however, was that Gu Yan’s first official microblog post wasn’t about the crew—it was about Lan Muyu.

Gu Yan addressed the rumors about the female lead’s casting with a straightforward and blunt approach: he directly released the audition clips of Han Feifei and Lan Muyu.

Originally, with Director Wang’s investment, Han Feifei wouldn’t have needed to audition. But at the time, someone in the crew had been gossiping, and Han Feifei overheard. She then insisted that Gu Yan arrange an audition. Fortunately, her persistence back then gave Gu Yan solid evidence to refute the rumors now.

In Han Feifei’s audition clip, she had the male lead acting alongside her, going straight for the female lead role. Yet in the scene where the heroine berates a scumbag, Han Feifei could only convey anger by widening her eyes and screaming. When it came to the scene where the second female lead attempts suicide, she couldn’t cry no matter how hard she tried, resulting in countless NGs.

In Lan Muyu’s audition clip, she performed without props and initially auditioned for the second female lead role. She portrayed the struggles and pain of a depressive patient so vividly that not only did Gu Yan praise her on the spot, but netizens were also deeply moved.

Later, at the director’s suggestion, Lan Muyu auditioned for the female lead role—the same scene Han Feifei had performed. This time, Lan Muyu was no longer the pitiful, struggling second lead but the bold heroine standing up for her best friend. She commanded the scene from the start, delivering a scathing rebuke to the scumbag and slapping him hard.

With such a stark comparison, netizens weren’t fools—how could they miss the vast difference in their performances?

Especially since these two had previously acted together in the film Whispering Love in My Heart, where Lan Muyu won the Best Newcomer Award in one fell swoop while Han Feifei didn’t even qualify for a nomination—there was undoubtedly a reason for it.

The comments under Gu Yan’s video overwhelmingly praised his good judgment:

How is Lan Muyu’s casting shady? If she had really played the second female lead, that would’ve been shady!

The Qing Dynasty fell ages ago—can’t you people broaden your minds a little? What’s with all this talk about connections? Nowadays, even a young director gets criticized. Incompetent people just love to overthink things. Should all young people just stop working then? If you’re talented, you must have connections?

Those who made malicious assumptions should come out and apologize!

At the same time, some netizens jumped in to accuse the Limited Edition production team of dodging the real issue:

Is today’s Trending search about how Lan Muyu got her role? The real issue is Limited Edition’s false advertising!

Oh, I get it—they denied the shady casting rumors but stayed silent on the false advertising, so that must mean it’s true, right?

Limited Edition is full of lies. Who knows if the screen will just go black for two hours once we’re in the theater?

Wow, this movie is officially blacklisted in my mind.