Who is Helping Me Win by Lying Down [Transmigration] - Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Sensing something amiss, He Qiyu immediately contacted the company to suppress all these bizarre trending topics, but soon received feedback.

The discussions weren’t confined to just one platform—they were sprouting up everywhere.

The drama had just begun filming, yet fan-edited “Couple Persona” compilation videos had already surfaced.

Chen Shu’s earlier music video for Unspeakable, which spanned his character’s youth to middle age, became the perfect material for these edits.

He Qiyu watched the video sent by her team with visible distaste.

Why would a perfectly ordinary romance drama give rise to rumors between two male actors?

Just as she instructed the PR team to continue suppressing the buzz, Duan Xu’s manager, Lai Yan, approached her.

“Manager He, finally found you.”

He Qiyu watched him approach. “Have a seat. Is there something you need, Manager Lai?”

Lai Yan chuckled. “Shall we cut to the chase?”

He sat down beside her and pulled out his phone.

On the screen were the most widely circulated photos of Chen Shu and Duan Xu.

Since the photos were already online, He Qiyu wasn’t surprised he’d seen them.

She observed Lai Yan’s expression carefully and said nonchalantly, “So it’s about this. No need to worry, Manager Lai—I’ll cooperate with you to clarify the situation.”

The word “clarify” made Lai Yan’s expression tighten slightly.

He forced a laugh. “Don’t be so hasty. I came specifically to discuss with you how we should handle this.”

“Handle it?” He Qiyu feigned confusion but sneered inwardly. She’d known this Lai guy would bring nothing but trouble.

Lai Yan probed indirectly, “What are your thoughts on this matter, Manager He?”

Since he asked, He Qiyu didn’t hold back. “I’ve heard of this kind of Couple Persona marketing—it’s quite popular.”

Lai Yan’s expression brightened momentarily, only to stiffen again at her next words.

“But that only brings short-lived hype. It’s mostly used as a transitional strategy by rising stars. Both Chen Shu and Duan Xu have stable fanbases and don’t need such tactics to maintain their fame. Don’t you agree?” After speaking, He Qiyu picked up a glass of water from the table and took a sip to moisten her throat.

Lai Yan smiled stiffly. “Well, that may be true, but—”

“Moreover,” He Qiyu swallowed the plain water and cut him off as if unintentionally, “the original work of our drama Moon in the Mirror isn’t suited for promoting a male Couple Persona. Marketing a relationship that sidelines the female lead would overshadow the main story. Not only would original fans dislike it, but the drama’s target audience wouldn’t appreciate it either. It could backfire. I find it completely unacceptable, which is why as soon as I noticed this trend, I contacted the company and insisted they stop this farce from escalating. We must protect Chen Shu and Duan Xu’s reputations—it’s not worth risking major losses for minor gains.”

Hearing her outright refusal to cooperate and her dismissal of the idea as worthless, effectively shutting down any room for negotiation, Lai Yan’s expression darkened.

“Oh, by the way, Manager Lai, did you have something to say earlier?” He Qiyu added, feigning surprise. “You mentioned discussing how to handle this… Surely you weren’t suggesting that Duan Xu and Chen Shu engage in Couple Persona promotion?”

Lai Yan’s lip twitched slightly.

With He Qiyu’s stance so clear, pushing for cooperation now would only humiliate himself.

But he didn’t completely shut the door either: “What are you thinking? I just feel that, since this involves both Chen Shu and Duan Xu, I should discuss it with you first before resolving it to avoid misunderstandings.”

He Qiyu smiled with polite precision: “Not at all, I trust your judgment.”

At this point, the conversation should have ended.

Yet Lai Yan remained rooted to his chair, unmoving.

He thought it over again and again, finally remarking as if casually: “But speaking of which, I’ve heard friends talk about CP marketing before. If it weren’t for real cases, I’d never have imagined how much people hype this model nowadays. Just by collaborating on one project and having the artists interact ambiguously on camera, they can attract massive traffic and monetize it.”

He Qiyu pretended not to understand, laughing heartily: “Anyway, it’s not like Chen Shu or Duan Xu are short on money.”

“…” Lai Yan felt a surge of frustration, his blood pressure spiking.

He refused to believe He Qiyu could be this naive.

This could only mean she was stating her position.

He Qiyu didn’t look at him, picking up her water glass for another sip.

Seeing her immovable stance, Lai Yan exchanged a few more perfunctory words before taking his leave, planning to reconsider his strategy later.

“Take care, Manager Lai.” He Qiyu smiled as she watched him turn away, then set down her glass, closed her eyes, and rolled them in exasperation.

She’d long suspected Duan Xu’s deliberate approach to Chen Shu was ill-intentioned—Lai Yan’s visit confirmed he had ulterior motives.

Both of them were scheming away, thinking nobody else had any brains.

Duan Xu was an actor who’d flopped twice in television dramas—generously put, he was “resource-backed”; bluntly put, he was an obscure nobody without notable works.

Though Chen Shu debuted through a talent show, the public now saw him as a reborn, outstanding new-generation singer with a massive fanbase.

In terms of fame and popularity, Duan Xu trying to stir up buzz with him was purely about leeching off Chen Shu’s success—especially since Duan Xu’s team excelled at marketing tactics that involved elevating themselves by tearing down their partners.

Even if she wanted to do a good deed without expecting returns, it would inevitably drag Chen Shu into controversy.

Besides, Moon in the Mirror was a major romantic period drama. If Chen Shu were to engage in CP promotion, it should be with the female lead—what benefit would pairing with a male actor bring him? More like inviting criticism.

She understood that male-male pairings were trendier and sparked more discussion nowadays.

But since his debut, Chen Shu had never lacked topics or popularity. There was no need for such a move, let alone handing free benefits to others.

After Lai Yan left, He Qiyu considered finding an excuse to pull Chen Shu aside and advise him to keep his distance from Duan Xu in the future. But Chen Shu had already started filming, so she had to hold off for now.

And if Lai Yan was set on this path, he wouldn’t give up so easily.

If she refused to cooperate, given Lai Yan’s style, he might proceed covertly.

After all, “CP” itself was built on speculation—a few ambiguous photos were enough to steer public opinion.

Chen Shu and Duan Xu were in the same filming group with significant shared scenes; avoiding contact was impossible, and there would always be chances for paparazzi shots.

But stirring up rumors of discord between actors wouldn’t benefit the series or Chen Shu, and she couldn’t afford to strain relations with Milan Pictures too much.

He Qiyu sighed.

She needed to find a way to make Lai Yan back off.

7:00 PM.

Great! Cui Jiancheng stood up with a smile, applauding as he said, Excellent, everyone has worked hard. Take a break before we continue.

Though he didn’t mention any names, anyone could tell his praise was directed at Chen Shu.

This wasn’t the first time he had expressed satisfaction with Chen Shu since filming began.

Duan Xu took off his cumbersome period costume, gulped down two mouthfuls of mineral water, then turned and walked toward Cui Jiancheng.

Being the first day of filming, experienced actors were needed to set the atmosphere on set. He and Chen Shu had the most scenes today, yet the recognition he received paled in comparison to Chen Shu’s.

During their scenes together, he could see Chen Shu’s excellent acting skills and understood why he lost the male lead role fairly. Still, such obvious favoritism left him somewhat displeased.

When he arrived, Chen Shu and Cui Jiancheng were watching the filming results on the monitor together.

Xiao Duan, have a seat. Cui Jiancheng waved him over.

Duan Xu walked to the other side of Chen Shu, took a deep breath to compose himself, then looked at the screen.

The footage showed a scene between him and Chen Shu.

Leaning back in his chair with crossed arms, Duan Xu initially intended to carefully observe Chen Shu’s acting. But gradually, without realizing when, he had straightened up in his seat. By the time he noticed, he had long been fully absorbed in the storyline.

The screen still focused on Chen Shu.

The cinematographer loved Chen Shu’s close-ups, while Cui Jiancheng adored his long takes.

Watching Chen Shu’s performance from an observer’s perspective, Duan Xu finally understood why Cui Jiancheng always praised him so highly.

Chen Shu didn’t seem to be acting.

His performance was too natural, his delivery of difficult lines too smooth. The changes in his eyes, the nuances in his tone—all were controlled with precise ease.

He seemed like a character who had stepped right out of the script, blessed with an overly striking handsome appearance.

Before the camera, he appeared to be a natural focal point.

Subconsciously, Duan Xu glanced at Chen Shu away from the lens.

Chen Shu was making notes on his script.

He showed little interest in the monitor’s content, as if born with the confidence that he couldn’t make mistakes.

And he had every reason for such absolute confidence.

Duan Xu looked at his focused yet stern profile as he lowered his gaze.

Was this really his first time acting?

Perhaps sensing something, Chen Shu paused his writing and glanced over.

Duan Xu quickly turned his face away, stiffly staring at the screen before him.

Chen Shu only swept a glance before withdrawing his gaze.

After finishing his last note, he rolled up the script, tucked it in his pocket, exchanged greetings with the two, and left.

He Qiyu finally caught up with him on the way. Seeing no one around, she told him, Chen Shu, besides filming scenes together, it’s best if you avoid contact with Duan Xu privately lately.

Chen Shu asked, Why?

Without concrete evidence, He Qiyu couldn’t say too much: He might try to create publicity at your expense. But don’t worry, I’ll handle this. Just focus on filming—I’m only letting you know.

She then handed him a boxed meal. You’ve worked hard all day. Go eat.

Thank you. Chen Shu took it and went to the break room. Just as he sat down, he checked his watch and first called Yan Jingchuan.

Being the first day of filming, the workload wasn’t heavy, but the actors weren’t at their best. Unwilling to compromise, Cui Jiancheng had spent more time rehearsing scenes.

He would probably return around midnight.

Having mentioned this in advance yesterday, Yan Jingchuan on the other end only frowned slightly, not particularly surprised: Eat on time.

Chen Shu chuckled: Okay. You too.

After hanging up, Yan Jingchuan put down his phone and looked at Zhang Shi.

Zhang Shi swallowed hard to calm his nerves.

He first finished reporting the official matters, but when it came to another private matter, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Yan Jingchuan signed the documents and, after a long silence without hearing any further sound from Zhang Shi, said calmly, Haven’t you found it yet?

Zhang Shi: …

He still needed a bit more courage to present what he had uncovered.

But now that Director Yan had taken the initiative to ask, it felt like a challenge to his competence!

After much hesitation, he reluctantly opened another file on his tablet.

I’ve found it, he said in a low voice, clearing his throat that had inexplicably gone hoarse.

Hold steady!

These were Chen Shu’s romantic entanglements, nothing to do with him—why should he feel guilty?

Thinking this, Zhang Shi took a deep breath. Duan Xu is a signed artist under Milan Pictures, a subsidiary of Xinyuan. He debuted two years ago, comes from a moderately wealthy family, and seems to have some connection with Li Sheng.

Yan Jingchuan looked up at him. Li Sheng?

… Zhang Shi’s heart clenched under that gaze. Yes, a distant cousin of Li Sheng’s, though they probably don’t keep in touch anymore.

Yan Jingchuan closed the file in his hand, his tone deceptively calm. Go on.

Zhang Shi: …

Bracing under the immense pressure, he persevered. Duan Xu is currently filming with Mr. Chen. The drama is called ‘Moon in the Mirror,’ a xianxia romance series that just started shooting this morning.

A romance series?

Yan Jingchuan’s brow furrowed slightly.

Duan Xu plays the second male lead, Zhang Shi continued doggedly. He has quite a few scenes and has been getting rather close to Mr. Chen…

His voice trailed off into a near-whisper.

Noticing his hesitation, Yan Jingchuan asked, What’s the matter?

Clutching the tablet, Zhang Shi struggled internally for a long moment but ultimately couldn’t hold back.

Director Yan, please take a look.

Yan Jingchuan turned his gaze to the screen Zhang Shi offered.

With just one glance, he slowly straightened in his seat.

The screen displayed two photos side by side.

They showed Chen Shu and Duan Xu standing close together.

In the first photo, the two were chatting while looking at each other.

In the second, Duan Xu raised his hand, his movement partially blocked by Chen Shu’s figure, as if playfully teasing him.

Other crew members were visible in the background, blurred by a filter, making the two appear even more intimate.

Zhang Shi held the tablet tremblingly, awaiting Yan Jingchuan’s instructions.

There was no helping it—rumors about Chen Shu and Duan Xu were spreading like wildfire online. As Director Yan’s subordinate, he had no choice but to report the facts as he found them.

But the deathly silence in the room stretched on too long. After waiting and waiting, he mustered the courage to break the quiet.

Director Yan, should I… give Mr. Chen a call?

Yan Jingchuan remained fixated on the photos before him, his gaze cold and heavy.

So this was what Chen Shu called discussing the script?