Chapter 0887: The Ungrateful Wolf Speaks Without Thinking

In many situations, the more flustered people become, the more prone they are to making mistakes. This is roughly the principle behind the saying 'haste makes waste.'

Logically speaking, there was no real enmity between Ma Dajun and Zhao Fusheng; at most, it was about the investment in *The Missing Gun* this time. In ordinary times, it would have been a minor issue brushed off with a laugh.

But now, in his eyes, the gap between Zhao Fusheng and Ma Dajun's positions was vast. 'You're just a little brother of Jiang Wen's—what right do you have to question me?'

When people get agitated, they often say the wrong things and do the wrong things.

Just like now, because of Zhao Fusheng's words, Ma Dajun's face turned extremely ugly as he stared straight at Zhao Fusheng.

After a long while, he said word by word, 'You mean you don't intend to drink this toast?'

Not intending to drink the toast naturally meant not intending to reconcile.

Zhao Fusheng looked calmly at Ma Dajun, unshaken by the other's posture, and said slowly, 'We weren't close to begin with, so there's no need for a toast. We'll meet again in the mountains and rivers; there's plenty of time ahead.'

Ma Dajun was taken aback, then let out a cold laugh, pointing at Zhao Fusheng: 'Ha, you? What qualifications do you have? Do you believe I can blacklist you?'

As soon as he said this, the faces of several people in the room turned ugly.

Jiang Wen's already gloomy face grew even darker, while Ye Jing and Yu Feihong frowned. The Wang brothers exchanged a glance, seeing deep worry in each other's eyes.

Ma Dajun didn't know who Zhao Fusheng was, but the Wang brothers knew, and so did Ye Jing and Yu Feihong. Although Ma Dajun was now known as the top commercial film director in the country, they didn't think Zhao Fusheng would be afraid of him.

Are you kidding? He wasn't even in the film industry. Ma Dajun was just a director at best—why would Zhao Fusheng need to fear him?

Most importantly, Ma Dajun's threat to blacklist Zhao Fusheng made these people suddenly feel that he was no longer the polite, humble, and cautious person he used to be.

Zhao Fusheng just sat there smiling, not angry, but Ma Dajun's face grew uglier and uglier.

He wasn't stupid. As soon as the words left his mouth, Ma Dajun noticed the change in the expressions of those around him. He realized he might have been set up by this young man in front of him.

If Zhao Fusheng knew what Ma Dajun was thinking, he would definitely cry out in injustice. He had absolutely no intention of setting Ma Dajun up; it was purely Ma Dajun's own momentary agitation.

It couldn't be helped. When people get excited, they make mistakes and say all sorts of idiotic things, like 'Are you speaking for the Party or for the people?' or 'Whether you believe it or not, I believe it.' Such remarks are everywhere, but Zhao Fusheng believed that the people who said these things weren't usually that stupid; in fact, they might be smarter than most, otherwise they wouldn't have become leaders.

In the end, it was just because they were too emotional and said things they shouldn't have.

Of course, in Zhao Fusheng's understanding, there was only one reason officials said the wrong thing when emotional: they were too thin-skinned. Usually in high positions, accustomed to flattery and praise, they suddenly faced verbal attacks and lost their cool.

Ma Dajun was the same.

To be honest, if this situation had happened to Jiang Wen, it might have been much better. Not that Jiang Wen was smarter or more capable than Ma Dajun, but because Jiang Wen's films were always criticized, and he was used to it.

Because of Ma Dajun's claim that he would blacklist Zhao Fusheng, the atmosphere in the room suddenly became very awkward. Ma Dajun gritted his teeth; at this point he couldn't take back his words, let alone apologize. Gritting his teeth again, he simply turned and walked toward the door.

When he reached the door, Ma Dajun stopped, gave Zhao Fusheng a deep look, then turned and left.

Most people, when faced with a situation, instinctively choose to shift responsibility, blaming their own mistakes on others or on objective conditions.

Just like the reasons the Chinese men's football team loses—they're always the same few: the turf is too hard or too soft, or else it's the weather, rain, snow, or hail affecting them. Or simply it's the referee's fault, or the group draw was unfavorable.

Well, that's a sad story.

Zhao Fusheng understood clearly that from this moment on, he had gained an enemy in the entertainment industry, but he didn't care.

Or rather, for Zhao Fusheng, an opponent of Ma Dajun's caliber wasn't much of a challenge, because they were operating on completely different levels.

"How interesting." Gao Zhenhai stood up at this point, glanced at Zhao Fusheng, then at Ye Jing, and left without another word.

That was just how he was—always acting independently.

The Wang brothers didn't say much either; after exchanging a few polite words, they also took their leave. Only Jiang Wen and the other three remained in the room.

"Fusheng, you were a bit rash."

Unexpectedly, the first to speak was Yu Feihong. Frowning, she looked at Zhao Fusheng and said slowly, "Since Ma Dajun already admitted his mistake, why stir up more trouble?"

After all, compared to the other two, she had a closer relationship with Zhao Fusheng. It was more appropriate for an older sister to scold her younger brother than for friends like Ye Jing or Jiang Wen to speak first.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled: "Sis, I already said, if apologies were useful, what would we need the police for?"

Then he glanced at Jiang Wen: "Old Jiang, do you think his apology was sincere?"

Jiang Wen sneered: "Just a petty man getting his way. You haven't seen what Ma Dajun was like before."

Ye Jing nodded beside him: "He's the type who bullies those beneath him and fawns on those above him, a sycophant. As long as you're useful to him, he'll greet you with a smile. If you're no longer valuable, he'll abandon you without mercy."

There was no help for it; both of them were old-timers in the Beijing circle. They knew Ma Dajun all too well, having witnessed firsthand how he had climbed step by step to where he was now.

"Right. Whether I accept his apology or not, as long as Old Jiang and I remain friends, he'll inevitably end up on the opposite side. So why should I bother with hypocritical pleasantries?"

Zhao Fusheng shrugged nonchalantly: "With people like that, as long as I'm always stronger than him, and I don't give him a chance, what can he do?"

The few of them exchanged glances and all remained silent. Even Yu Feihong had to admit that Zhao Fusheng's judgment of Ma Dajun was not wrong.

In this world, there is exactly this kind of person—like the legendary Zhongshan wolf, who grows arrogant once he gains power.

And clearly, Zhao Fusheng's way of dealing with such people was to teach them a lesson, to make them understand that not everyone can be offended.