Chapter 1237: Calling to Account

Many times, Ye Jing felt he couldn't understand Zhao Fusheng.

Although Zhao Fusheng was younger than him, in Ye Jing's eyes, the things he displayed sometimes couldn't be matched even by seasoned veterans decades older.

Just like now, both were burning with anger, but the composure Zhao Fusheng showed surprised Ye Jing and also made him curious.

"What do you plan to do?" On the way to the hospital, Ye Jing asked Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled: "When you have nothing to say, don't speak; when you don't know how to answer someone, keep silent. That's a good strategy in life, you understand?"

Ye Jing was taken aback: "You mean, hold your position?"

But then he became confused again. If Zhao Fusheng really intended to hold his position, what about his earlier arrangements?

Zhao Fusheng didn't say much more. Some things didn't need too much explanation; he believed Ye Jing would figure it out soon enough. After all, he was a big shot in the Beijing circle, and certain news would reach his ears quickly.

"No rush, let's go see Sister Feihong first," Zhao Fusheng said calmly.

Soon, the group arrived at the hospital. Entering the ward, Zhao Fusheng saw Yu Feihong with gauze on her face, talking to someone.

Well, Fan Beibei and Fan Baobao were actually there, with their suitcases still placed around.

"You didn't go home?" Zhao Fusheng raised an eyebrow and asked Fan Baobao.

"I was worried about Sister, so I came to see her. What's it to you?" Fan Baobao glared at Zhao Fusheng.

She had originally planned to go home, but halfway there, she remembered Yu Feihong's hospitalization, called her, and then came to the hospital.

"I said it's nothing, why did you have to come?" Yu Feihong glared at Zhao Fusheng, then said softly to Fan Baobao, "Baobao, you should go back. The train ride itself is tiring, I'm fine."

Fan Baobao smiled, chatted with Yu Feihong a bit longer, and was finally shooed away by Zhao Fusheng on the pretext that Beibei was tired.

"Baobao is a good girl."

Watching her back, Yu Feihong smiled and said to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng nodded: "We're planning to hold the wedding in August. You must come."

Yu Feihong was startled, then smiled and nodded: "Okay, don't worry."

Though a bit surprised, thinking it over, it was only natural. After all, Zhao Fusheng and Fan Baobao had a childhood sweetheart relationship, unlike others. Now that they were no longer young, and with Zhao Fusheng's status and wealth, getting married early wouldn't hurt.

"Is the injury serious?" Zhao Fusheng turned to the main topic.

Yu Feihong shook her head: "The doctor said it's nothing serious, just a minor injury."

She paused, then continued: "I see things are quite heated outside these days. Don't get involved. I feel something's off about this."

She was an extremely intelligent woman. Though she had limited contact with the outside world due to hospitalization, from what she read in the newspapers and the few calls she received, Yu Feihong sensed an undercurrent stirring.

At this moment, she didn't want Zhao Fusheng to be pushed to the forefront because of her matter.

Future Film had just started to improve; if something went wrong because of this, Yu Feihong felt she would be guilty.

Zhao Fusheng laughed, took her hand, and patted it: "Don't worry, Sister. No one can hurt you and walk away unscathed, I guarantee that. As for those who want me to charge ahead, I can also guarantee they have no right to order me around. I do things simply because I want to."

Yu Feihong fell silent, and even Zhang Qian and Ye Jing, standing behind, were silent.

Only then did they remember that Zhao Fusheng was not some brainless rich second generation; he was a self-made billionaire who had built a fortune of nearly five hundred million US dollars from scratch.

When it came to playing mind games, those people in the entertainment industry were far behind.

…

…

"Gather the team, head to the 'Legendary Twins' crew," Zhao Fusheng said to Zhang Qian and Ye Jing as he left the hospital after saying goodbye to Yu Feihong.

Both were startled and looked at Zhao Fusheng simultaneously.

Zhao Fusheng stopped and chuckled: "What, surprised?"

Zhang Qian said nothing; Ye Jing honestly nodded: "I don't understand. Are you planning to blow this up?"

Zhao Fusheng smiled and shook his head: "Some people want me to blow things up, to be the spearhead. Since that's the case, I'll do them a favor and teach those two from Hong Kong a lesson. But I don't intend to get involved in the rest, because I'm not a knife in anyone's hand, and they have no right to order me around."

Ye Jing was thoughtful, while Zhang Qian had already stepped aside to make phone calls.

By the time the convoy arrived at the hotel where the 'Legendary Twins' crew was staying, there were already dozens of people.

"Let's go."

Zhao Fusheng got out of the car, his gaze sweeping over the more than twenty bodyguards from the security company, then over the Future Film staff beside Ye Jing. He smiled and took the lead.

"Who are you?"

Since the hotel was booked by the 'Legendary Twins' crew and it was a sensitive time, as soon as Zhao Fusheng and his group appeared, security guards came to stop them. But before they could say a word, Zhang Qian waved his hand and had them pulled aside.

"Huh? People from Future Film?"

"Yeah, it seems Ye Jing came in person."

"Who are those people? Why is the leader a young man?"

Reporters were staking out the entrance. Seeing such a big scene, they were startled and immediately raised their cameras to start snapping photos.

But before they could finish, they found several burly men in front of them, who "politely" took their cameras, checked them, and deleted photos with Zhao Fusheng.

"You! This is obstructing freedom of speech! I'll sue you!"

A reporter soon protested angrily to the men in black suits.

"Sorry, but the photos you took include our boss, and your shooting infringes on his portrait rights. If you want to sue, we'll be happy to oblige," Xue Yuanfang, who had rushed over, said with a smile to the reporters. Then he waved his hand, and staff from the PR department came to appease them.

A slap and then a sweetener—he was well-versed in this trick.

And the reporters were all dumbfounded.

That young man was the legendary big boss of Future Group, Zhao Fusheng?

In fact, not only the reporters but also a group of people in the hotel's meeting room were stunned.

Originally, after such a big incident, aside from the two involved, Xie Tingfeng and Zhang Weijian, who were confined, most of the remaining crew were also ordered to stay in the hotel and not go out.

Today, the investors and the director had called everyone together, about to demand they not reveal any information to the reporters outside, to avoid causing a stir.

But no one expected a group of uninvited guests to barge in.

"Who hit my sister? Get out here and let me break one of your legs!"

Zhao Fusheng's arrogant voice rang out in the meeting room, and even Ye Jing and Zhang Qian beside him glanced at him in surprise.

What was this guy up to?

And in the meeting room, after Zhao Fusheng said that, it fell into silence.

Everyone was petrified—the cameramen, lighting, sound, script supervisors—all with mouths agape, completely at a loss.

Especially director Wang Jing, who looked at that familiar face and almost burst into tears.

He already knew the process: it was just two Hong Kong and Taiwan stars bullying someone, secretly finding the executive director to change the script so that Wang Bochao, the villain, would get beaten up.

Even knowing the reason afterward, Wang Jing didn't think it was a big deal. Such things were common in the Hong Kong entertainment circle; which big star hadn't messed with someone?

And this was in the mainland; he was sure no one would stand up for justice.

After all, at this time, Hong Kong production teams were treated like living bodhisattvas in the mainland.

But now, Wang Jing suddenly felt he should immediately return to Hong Kong—maybe that way he could keep one leg!

"Who are you people?"

Just as Wang Jing was on the verge of tears, someone stepped up to shield him. The speaker was a man in his early thirties, wearing a suit, with a heavy Hong Kong accent in his Mandarin.

Zhao Fusheng glanced at him, swept his gaze across the meeting room, and said calmly, "Tell Xie Tingfeng and Zhang Weijian to come see me."

"Who are you?" The Hong Kong-accented man frowned, clearly not knowing who Zhao Fusheng was.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled, ignored him entirely, and looked at Wang Jing: "Director Wang, I didn't expect we'd meet again."

Wang Jing stood up bitterly: "Mr. Zhao, I'm really sorry."

"No need for apologies. This has nothing to do with you; I only want the parties involved," Zhao Fusheng waved his hand dismissively. "I'll say it again: tell Xie Tingfeng and Zhang Weijian to come see me."

The calmer he was, the more distressed Wang Jing became.

Others might not know Zhao Fusheng's identity, but he knew it clearly. They had met once in Hong Kong, and as time passed, with the establishment of Future Group, Wang Jing understood better than others what kind of person Mr. Zhao was.

He was a big shot with assets over five hundred million US dollars!

Though not among the top-tier tycoons, compared to himself, he was more than enough. Not to mention Zhang Weijian and Xie Tingfeng, even if their backers came forward, Zhao Fusheng wouldn't be intimidated.

He had originally thought Future Film wouldn't stand up for Yu Feihong, but he never expected it would stir up this tiger Zhao Fusheng.

At this moment, Wang Jing really wished he could grab those two bastards Xie Tingfeng and Zhang Weijian and curse, "I'll fuck your mother!"