Chapter 166: Suppressing Dongfang

“Announce to the whole company—no one is allowed to give interviews to Dongfang Press from now on!” Xiao Ran’s cold face suddenly showed a smile that didn’t match at all, sending Wei Dongling chills: “Call Fang Xiaoqiang back and do everything in your power to crush Dongfang Press’ stock prices without suffering any losses!”
Wei Dongling breathed a sigh of relief. He had thought Xiao Ran intended to go all out against Dongfang Press, which would definitely be a foolish decision. From Xiao Ran’s last words, it was clear he hadn’t lost his sanity.
After Wei Dongling left, Xiao Ran summoned Liang Kun. Staring at the bewildered Liang Kun, Xiao Ran smiled coldly, “What do you think of Dongfang Daily?”
Liang Kun was utterly confused. Xiao Ran couldn’t have called him just to ask this question. After hesitating, he looked at Xiao Ran’s unpleasant expression and said, “They’ve gone too far!”
“You’re right!” Xiao Ran emphasized these words, startling Liang Kun. Then he smiled eerily, “One shouldn’t go too far in anything, or retribution will come someday. What do you think?”
Liang Kun became even more puzzled. Suddenly, staring at Xiao Ran’s strange expression, he seemed to understand something. After thinking carefully about what he had done for Meiying, he suddenly realized it. It turned out Xiao Ran wanted to teach Dongfang Daily a lesson using underworld forces—only he didn’t understand why Xiao Ran had to be so vague.
Of course not! If he said it outright, would he really announce to the whole world, “I’m going to use underworld forces to retaliate against Dongfang Press”? Liang Kun might be stupid, but Xiao Ran certainly wasn’t. He knew very well that some things must never be said too clearly, or they would leave a trail.
He constantly reminded himself that he was a legitimate businessman. So, for things that shouldn’t be known, Xiao Ran always acted very discreetly. Knowing that no wall is airtight, he deliberately created walls that seemed secure even if they leaked information.
He had never wanted anything to do with the underworld, but it seemed sometimes he had no choice but to use its power, otherwise everyone would trample on him. He believed it was necessary to teach Dongfang Daily a lesson, to make them understand that you really shouldn’t touch a tiger’s tail.
However, since the matter was already making headlines, showing up directly would mean anyone could guess it was Xiao Ran’s doing. So, Xiao Ran knew he needed to come up with a good plan—one that would completely obscure his involvement.
After researching the editor-in-chief of Dongfang Daily, he found that the man liked adventure and gambling, going to Macau once a week on average. But these details seemed useless to Xiao Ran. What he needed were reasons and excuses for the underworld to take revenge on this editor-in-chief.
Then he remembered. Xiao Ran smiled faintly. He recalled that when Ghost King Dong was still alive, there was a small company affiliated with Liansheng. It was through this company that the ten million in secret funds were given to Ghost King Dong.

There are quite a few small companies like this among the three major associations. Thinking of this, Xiao Ran vaguely came up with a possible reason for it. What if a company were accused of money laundering? The Oriental Daily would definitely pay close attention to such news and surely pursue it relentlessly. If carefully planned, only allowing the Oriental Daily to get this information, they would surely use it as an exclusive story. This way, the conditions to offend the underworld would be met. Thinking of this, Xiao Ran couldn’t help but laugh. There were two advantages: teaching a lesson to the Oriental Daily went without saying, and as for making them vaguely suspect he was behind it, there were always ways. The second advantage was that it could temporarily divert the media’s focus from Xiao Lin’s love affair—a true killing two birds with one stone.

The next day, in the offices of the Oriental Daily, a reporter rushed into the editor-in-chief’s office, excitedly shouting, “Boss, an informant told me that Ganlin Company suspects someone of money laundering. Should we pursue this story?”
“Ganlin Company? I’ve never heard of it!” The editor-in-chief nodded indifferently. His attention was currently focused on Xiao Lin’s love affair, the major story he had orchestrated himself. “Go ahead and do it!”
He had spent a considerable amount of effort buying those photos from that real estate agent and then planning everything. Over the past week, the Oriental Daily had sold out every day early in the morning—a truly remarkable feat. And since he had planned all of this himself, how could he not be excited?

Once this story was published, the reporter was caught that very day. After being severely interrogated, it was confirmed that the editor-in-chief had given his approval (of course—he wouldn’t have allowed it otherwise). That same day, the editor-in-chief was beaten up on his way home, with his attackers threatening, “It’s not up to you to decide whether money laundering has taken place or not!”
Early the next morning, as soon as the copies of the Oriental Daily left the printing plant, they were set on fire by gang members. Even when the police arrived, they were helpless in the face of the raging fire.
On the third day, reports of the Oriental Daily being attacked by the gang appeared in other newspapers. It was hard to tell whether those newspapers felt sympathy for the Oriental Daily or took pleasure in their misfortune. In any case, the news caused quite a stir. Some readers, recalling the Oriental Daily’s exaggerated coverage of Xiao Lin’s love affair a few days earlier, couldn’t help but curse, “They deserve it!”

Early the fourth day, as soon as the samples for the Oriental Daily were delivered to the printing plant, a group of thugs rushed in, beating and destroying everything, almost setting the place on fire. This incident escalated significantly, even drawing in the Mountain Cats from Liansheng to the police station.
Yet no one suspected Xiao Ran—truly. Not even the beaten editor-in-chief suspected he was behind it. Of course, for Xiao Ran, he thought Liansheng had done an excellent job. Aside from that editor-in-chief and the unlucky reporter, no one was hurt. The main loss was to the Oriental Daily, which relieved him greatly.
Later, Shuxiang Media offered to buy the Oriental Daily, but the Oriental Newspaper Group naturally refused. It didn’t matter; Shuxiang and Meiying joined forces to pressure the Oriental Newspaper Group in the stock market. Now, even a fool could see that Xiao Ran was extremely dissatisfied and determined to teach the Oriental Daily a lesson.

That day, Xiao Ran was discussing the filming of “Unfinished Love” with Chen Kexin. After all, Xiao Ran was the art director—he had to take responsibility for the project. Less than two minutes into the conversation, An Yuxuan came in, saying the boss of Dongfang Newspaper Group was on the line. Xiao Ran smiled at Chen Kexin, picked up the phone, and signaled to him before answering.

“President Xiao, let’s negotiate!” The boss of Dongfang Newspaper Group clearly knew what Xiao Ran wanted and got straight to the point. He was frustrated because his attempt to acquire Shuxiang had failed, so he joined forces with Dongli Investment to push down the stock price, without directly confronting Dongfang’s financial resources.

Even a fool would know that this approach wouldn’t work in the long run. After all, Xiao Ran had the money to play this game, while he didn’t have enough to keep up. So he knew he had no choice but to make peace. Xiao Ran smiled faintly—this was exactly what he had expected. Businesspeople sought profit, and by now, Dongfang had made enough; there was no need to continue.

“Who handled that news story? Who wrote the commentary?” A smile appeared on Xiao Ran’s face. He liked this feeling—the feeling of others begging for mercy. “You know what I mean!”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while. He knew that almost the entire newspaper staff had been involved in that story. Every journalist understood just how explosive the “Love Between Xiao Lin” story was. If they really dealt with those people, Dongfang Daily would essentially be rebuilt from scratch, leading to decline.

“Give them a chance to survive. They weren’t in charge of it.” The boss on the other end thought for a moment before deciding, “With just one word from you, I’ll deal with the person in charge right away—just to show you some respect!”

Newspapers and the entertainment industry often went hand in hand. If they opposed each other, neither side could stay dry. With that in mind, Xiao Ran made sure his voice sounded sincere: “President Chen, since you’ve said so much, if I still refuse, it would indeed be disrespectful. But I want to say that the media and film industries interact—we can benefit, and so can you. Do you understand what I mean?”

After reaching an agreement, he hung up and called Fang Xiaoqiang to stop the operations. Then, with a smile, he walked over and sat in front of Chen Kexin, saying, “Sorry for making you wait. Let’s continue talking about this film!”

“No problem!” Chen Kexin certainly had no complaints. In fact, he admired Xiao Ran—both of them were worth billions, yet they still loved movies so much. “President Xiao, just go ahead!”

Xiao Ran now seemed to understand why he was always called “President Xiao.” Perhaps it was because he had always been the art director of the company and now also the creative director. This time, he didn’t rely on memory but recalled the creative version of “Unfinished Love.”

The so-called creative version meant that Xiao Ran would only provide the idea, with the actual script written by the Mysterious Shadow writing team. Xiao Ran had plenty of ideas, but he hadn’t revealed them all yet—things needed to be done step by step, otherwise people might think he was a monster.

Thinking of this, Xiao Ran had an idea—he wondered why he hadn’t added a “creativity” section to the film’s subtitles. Creativity was indeed very important. The films that left the deepest impression on him were “Infernal Affairs” and “The Big Event.” The creativity in the former was widely recognized, and the idea in the latter—where a police officer surrenders to criminals on the street, triggering the plot—was equally unique.

Creativity wasn’t just the domain of screenwriters; anyone could have it. In his dreams, he had seen many creatively brilliant novels online, and those authors weren’t screenwriters at all. If a “creativity” role were added, it would mean more ideas could be generated or brought in. Put more politely, it was about pooling collective wisdom.

At this thought, he couldn’t help but smile slightly and turned his gaze to Chen Kexin. “A-Xin, do you think script creativity is important?”

“Script creativity?” Chen Kexin repeated it, not quite understanding, before realizing and answering, “It must be important. Films like ‘The God of Gamblers’ and ‘Treason’ you wrote are great examples of creativity!”

“A good director, good actors, and a good script can bring a film back to life. So why can’t we strengthen the script to ensure everything is perfect?” Xiao Ran was more asking himself than Chen Kexin.

He believed the “creativity” role was entirely feasible. One didn’t necessarily need to understand film or shoot with the crew—just signing the name on the subtitles would suffice. He thought it was very necessary and called An Yuxuan in to have someone analyze its feasibility.

After addressing the random ideas that popped into his mind, Xiao Ran smiled at Chen Kexin. In fact, the “creative version” of “A Chinese Odyssey: Pandora’s Box” (with all future plagiarized scripts referred to as the creative version) had already differed greatly from the Hollywood version thanks to the work of the writing team.

This made the film much more interesting and distinctly Eastern, and he believed it would be a hit in Southeast Asia. However, in terms of overall direction, Xiao Ran definitely didn’t want Chen Kexin to turn it into a comedy—that would be a waste. The reason he chose Chen Kexin was precisely because of his skill in handling emotional scenes.

After some thought, Xiao Ran outlined a rough story in his mind, sketching out the necessary visuals and atmosphere, before saying, “The film shouldn’t be a farce; just follow the script. As for the visuals, keep them bright, not dark—slightly sad, but not overly so. You know it’s a romantic love story; the focus should be on romance, with emotional appeal, but not in a forced way!”

Chen Kexin clearly understood Xiao Ran’s meaning and nodded firmly, vowing to make this his debut film a success. Xiao Ran hesitated for a moment—the lead male and female roles hadn’t been decided yet, which was quite problematic.

Theoretically, anyone could play these roles, but in Xiao Ran’s view, the film wasn’t that simple. Lin Qingxia was a good choice for the female lead, but the male lead posed a challenge. If Zhou Runfa played the role, Xiao Ran would be completely at ease, but “The Phantom” shouldn’t be limited to just him.

At present, aside from Fa Ge, there is hardly any actor whose age is somewhat comparable to Lin Qingxia’s. After some thought, he really hoped Lin Qingxia would win a Golden Horse Award, so after gritting his teeth, he finally decided to have Fa Ge play the role. Once the decision was made, things became much easier. Checking the time, it was also time to visit Chen Bosheng. He is an extraordinary man who founded Film Weekly, established Hong Kong’s first professional film award—the Golden Horse Award—and served as both the editor-in-chief of the weekly and the chairman of the judging panels for various Golden Horse Awards.