“Stop right there!”
Early the next morning, Xia Xi, controlling Luo Xinyu’s body, wheeled her chair to the entrance of a private room at “Old Wang’s Home-Style Cuisine.”
“I’m here for the gathering,” Xia Xi said calmly.
Despite stating his purpose, the person blocking the door remained unmoving, like a solid wall.
“The passphrase.”
Passphrase?
Xia Xi hadn’t heard Luo Xinyu mention anything about a passphrase. He’d assumed showing up would be enough—who knew they’d go so far as to use secret codes for a simple meetup?
Luckily, Luo Xinyu’s voice echoed in his mind, bailing him out:
“The passphrase is, ‘Chenxi the Hack knows nothing about Dragon Clan!’”
After repeating the phrase to the guard, the man finally stepped aside and opened the door. Without hesitation, Xia Xi wheeled himself inside.
“Xinyu! Over here!”
A familiar voice called out.
Xia Xi glanced toward the large round table where Liu Yiyi was waving at him, gesturing for him to join her.
“What’s wrong with you? You look exhausted,” Xia Xi remarked as he maneuvered the wheelchair next to her, accepting the glass of orange juice she handed him. He studied her tired face with concern.
“Ugh, it’s all because of that Xin Haicheng. He’s filming a movie and insisted I be the detail consultant. These past few days have drained me. Can you imagine staring at blueprints all day until you feel like throwing up?”
Once the topic of Your Name’s film adaptation came up, Liu Yiyi vented all her frustrations and excitement to Xia Xi, as if unloading everything weighing on her mind.
“So they haven’t even started production yet?”
After all this time, Xia Xi had assumed they’d already finished a portion of the film. Who knew they were still in the preparation stage?
“Yeah, there’s nothing we can do. An anime film like this can’t secure funding. No one believes a 2D movie can be a box-office hit.”
She’d witnessed Xin Haicheng humbly begging for investments countless times, only to be rejected repeatedly. It pained her to see him like that—so much so that she’d even considered asking her sister to invest. After all, her sister had money to spare and wasn’t afraid of losses.
“I want to sponsor this project!”
Luo Xinyu’s voice suddenly rang out in Xia Xi’s mind.
She’d seen Your Name before—it had a great premise and solid storytelling. If the film adaptation was done right, it would definitely turn a profit, or at least break even.
Since the young mistress had made her decision, Xia Xi saw no point in pleasantries. He downed his orange juice in one gulp and locked eyes with Liu Yiyi.
“I’ll be the investor.”
Liu Yiyi wondered if she’d misheard.
She knew the person in front of her was a bona fide rich heiress, but investing without even checking the production team’s credentials? That sounded like the kind of reckless, easy-to-scam move only a clueless trust-fund kid would make.
“I’m serious. Just tell me how much is needed. A single movie’s budget won’t even make a dent in my finances.”
Luo Xinyu’s family really was that wealthy. The most common advice she got from them was, “Spend as much as you want—don’t hold back.”
Damn… this is what it means to be rich, huh?
Liu Yiyi stared at “Luo Xinyu,” suddenly reminded of her own sister. Her sister was the same—throwing money at investments left and right, yet somehow never losing a cent.
“Well, thank you, then.”
If the other party insisted on being generous, Liu Yiyi saw no reason to refuse. At most, she’d make sure the investment contract gave Luo Xinyu a larger share of the profits.
Clap clap clap!
Just as the two were deep in conversation, applause suddenly erupted, followed by a booming male voice:
“Brothers and sisters! We’ve gathered here today because of Dragon Clan! Now, search your hearts—does that hack Chenxi truly understand Dragon Clan?”
Search their hearts?
Xia Xi’s gaze instinctively dipped downward.
Luo Xinyu’s voice immediately protested in his mind: “No lewd thoughts! No touching in public!”
What do you mean ‘no touching in public’? Does that mean it’s fine in private? This airheaded young mistress…
“He doesn’t!”
Someone in the crowd shouted in agreement with Wang Gang.
Wang Gang’s excitement surged—having supporters meant he wasn’t alone in his beliefs!
“Exactly! He doesn’t! He’s just a merciless butcher who loves sending our favorite characters to their graves! Think of Ye Sheng and Yuki Sade, think of Old Tang and Constantine—all of it is Chenxi the Hack’s fault!”
Bullshit!
Xia Xi screamed internally.
It wasn’t his choice to write those scenes! He was just a shameless plagiarist—how could they blame him?
And besides…
He leaned toward Liu Yiyi and whispered, “Doesn’t this feel like some cult indoctrination session?”
Liu Yiyi nodded in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing. But then again, Chenxi the Hack does deserve the hate. Hmph! If he loves writing tragedies so much, he should brace for the backlash.”
Wang Gang’s speech was wildly persuasive. Nearly half the room was now chanting, “It’s all Chenxi the Hack’s fault!”
Judging by their fervor, these people would probably love nothing more than to tie him to a cross, light him on fire, and watch him burn.
Ugh… just the thought is terrifying.
He was starting to regret ever writing such a divisive novel. He should’ve just played it safe like other transmigrators and copied something like “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—don’t bully the young for being poor!”
Seeing the crowd’s seething resentment, Xia Xi realized one thing: he could never let his address leak. Otherwise, he’d be drowning in “the allure of opening a razor blade factory.”
Wasn’t there a legend about some author who became a millionaire just by selling the blades readers mailed him as revenge for his tragic writing?
But Xia Xi wasn’t worried about blades—he was more concerned about someone sweetly asking him:
“What’s your favorite color for a burlap sack?”
The mental image of being snatched off the street, stuffed into a colorful sack, and dragged into a dark room to be tortured into rewriting endings sent chills down his spine.
“Good! Since we’re all in agreement, I hereby announce the official formation of the Dragon Clan Retribution Squad! Our mission: find Chenxi the Hack, drag him into a dark room, and do whatever we want with him!”
Wait, they’re actually serious about the dark room thing?!
Dude, that’s illegal! You can’t just—
After an impassioned speech, the so-called “retribution squad” was officially established. They even had custom badges, making the whole thing look disturbingly legitimate.
Honestly, Wang Gang was quite the talent. His rousing speech reminded Xia Xi of a certain failed art student with a knack for swaying crowds.
“Everyone, enjoy the food! While we eat, I’ll go over our first mission…”
