Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, three days had passed since the terrorist incident.
During this period, no matter how hard the major platforms tried to ban those few photos of Jiang Nian, they were up against a user base numbering in the tens of millions. Not only did they fail to completely wipe out the images, but they actually stirred up a sense of defiance in people.
The more you try to stop me from seeing it, the more I want to see it—and not only that, I’m going to share it with others too!
In no time, all sorts of chat records, links, and compressed files were popping up everywhere.
As a result, the public outcry didn’t die down—it grew even louder.
Naturally, this didn’t escape the attention of other films in the Spring Festival lineup. They all threw fuel on the fire behind the scenes, hoping to crush Flying Swords of Dragon Gate right then and there, so they’d have one less competitor when the holiday box office battle began.
Online, the chaos was reaching a fever pitch.
In real life, though, as the center of this storm, Jiang Nian was lying on the balcony of a 20th-floor presidential suite, wearing sunglasses, bare-chested, legs crossed, soaking up the sun.
His lazy, carefree demeanor left Yang Mi staring at her own thermal wear, then at the thermometer on the wall reading 10 degrees Celsius, completely dumbfounded.
“Jiang Nian, aren’t you cold?” she couldn’t help asking. It’s winter, for crying out loud! How are you acting like it’s summer? Do you think this is Sanya or something?
At that, Jiang Nian stretched lazily, picked up the bottle of Moutai on the small table, and took a sip to wet his throat. “Not at all. This temperature’s just right—comfortable and perfect.”
He wasn’t showing off.
It was simply that, as his strength grew, his physique had transcended ordinary mortal limits—he was now no different from a mountain lord!
That might not mean much at first glance, but put another way, it’s easier to grasp: he had a Pure Yang Constitution!
By now, Jiang Nian was just like a tiger—able to drink raw deer blood without feeling heated, and stand in extreme cold without shivering.
In fact, in this weather of just over ten degrees, he actually felt a little warm and was almost tempted to find an open-air stream for a swim.
“Speaking of which, Mi Xie, don’t you have anything to do at your company? You’ve been here for days—is there really no work?”
Putting down the bottle, he asked casually.
He remembered that when they first came to shoot Flying Swords of Dragon Gate, Yang Mi had arrived in Hengdian with him on Monday and had rushed back by Wednesday. Yet now, she’d been here for so long without ever pulling out a laptop to work or making phone calls to handle business. She just followed him around all day, going wherever he went.
That made him curious.
At that, Yang Mi casually picked up a lychee, peeling it as she spoke: “Pretty much. It’s almost New Year’s, so most of the staff have already gone home for the holidays. There really isn’t much to do.”
“By the way, Jiang Nian… aren’t you worried at all?”
Jiang Nian raised an eyebrow. “Worried about what?”
“The online backlash, of course. Everyone’s cursing you out, and your film’s promotion has come to a halt. Don’t you want to explain yourself?” Yang Mi asked with genuine curiosity.
This was a huge scandal. Any other celebrity would have already contacted their PR team and started damage control. But Jiang Nian was acting like nothing was wrong—not only unfazed, but even relaxed enough to sunbathe and sip Moutai.
She really couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.
Jiang Nian, however, didn’t seem bothered at all.
“What’s there to explain? I’m already a pile of rubble—how much worse can it get? And if you look at it from a different angle, this is actually a good thing.”
As someone who had traveled from the future, he knew all too well how netizens behaved. If he dared to come out and defend himself now, he wouldn’t get their sympathy—he’d only get an even more brutal wave of online attacks.
So why would he willingly walk into that fire? Did he think he was one of those masochistic APEX players who loved torturing themselves?
Hearing that, Yang Mi paused for a moment, as if guessing what he was getting at. “You’ve really got thick skin. Most people would be depressed after getting that much hate online.”
After a brief pause, she asked, “Are you planning to use this opportunity to generate buzz and hype yourself up?”
“Exactly!” Jiang Nian nodded, not hiding his thoughts. “The authorities will definitely clear this up, but they won’t release the full truth—since the terrorist angle is too serious to disclose to the public. At the same time, they won’t let me take the fall either.”
“So, why not let the hype keep building? Bad publicity is still publicity, and haters are still fans. When the truth finally comes out, every single hater will remember me vividly, and many of them will gradually turn into casual fans. At the same time, Flying Swords of Dragon Gate will blow up because of it.”
“So don’t rush it—let the bullet fly a little longer. We’ll stay completely silent and just wait for the official statement.”
Jiang Nian said with confidence.
Yang Mi opened her mouth, about to say something else.
But just then—
“Big big chicken cutlet! / So big, a giant chicken cutlet!” A ringtone with a thick Wu dialect accent blared out.
Jiang Nian glanced at his phone and saw it was Tsui Hark calling. He answered and put it on speaker: “Hello? Director Tsui, what’s up?”
Tsui Hark’s hurried voice came through: “Mr. Jiang, we found a venue, but they’re only giving us three hours. Could you come over right away?”
“That soon? Where at?” Jiang Nian asked.
“It’s at a small shopping mall in the city center. I’ve sent you the location. You’ll need time for makeup once you get here, and by the time you’re done, the stage should be all set up,” Tsui Hark said.
Jiang Nian nodded. “Alright.”
He hung up and looked at Yang Mi. “See? What did I tell you? The work’s already coming in.”
Yang Mi rolled her eyes at him, half annoyed. “Stop the chatter. Director Tsui’s waiting for you—go change and get over there.”
“Alright, alright. Look at you, always in a rush,” Jiang Nian said leisurely, then slowly got dressed, checked the location Tsui Hark had sent him on his phone, and got into Yang Mi’s car to head over.
Meanwhile, at the venue—
Since the mall manager had only given Tsui Hark and his team three hours for the film promotion, they were running around like crazy, busy as bees. Setting up the stage, arranging the decor—it was all hands on deck.
With all that commotion, it naturally drew a crowd.
One curious onlooker came up and asked, “Hey, what event are you guys holding here?”
Seeing someone ask, Tsui Hark paused what he was doing and smiled: “We’re holding a film promotional event.”
“A film promo?” The person perked up with interest. “Which movie?”
“Flying Swords of Dragon Gate!”
“Huh?!”
At those words, the man froze, staring at Tsui Hark in disbelief. “What did you say? Flying Swords of Dragon Gate? As in, the one with that murderer Jiang Nian?”
Tsui Hark’s breath hitched at the blunt remark, but he still nodded. “Uh… yes.”
“Holy crap, you guys actually dare to do this?!”
The man exclaimed, then immediately whipped out his phone, aimed it at Tsui Hark and the scene behind him, snapped a photo, and sent it to a group chat.
Just as he was typing away to share the news with his friends—
Over on Jiang Nian’s side, on the way to the mall, he suddenly received a call from the police.
“Hello? Is this Mr. Jiang?”
“We’re from the Chuncheng Police Station. We’re very sorry for keeping you waiting. After several days of investigation, this case is now closed. As for the remaining details, they’re no longer under our purview—you probably understand. Additionally, following a meeting among our superiors yesterday, we’ve decided to formally commend and reward you for this incident on behalf of the Chuncheng Police Bureau.”
“We’ve had a special banner made for you, along with a cash award. Could you let us know where you are? We’ll deliver them to you right away.”
