Poverty Alleviation C13
by MarineTLChapter 13
A perfectly fine show was ruined just like that, and furious netizens couldn’t help but vent their frustrations online—
“J Province TV, are you out of your mind? Do you even know why this show became popular? You just kicked out the real star the moment it took off? Wow, well done. Uninstalling immediately!”
“LOL! I got bored and looked it up just now. The show just started airing, and the internet is already flooded with promotional posts about this new guy. Do I even need to spell it out?”
“Also laughing! I even saw a few ‘premature’ promo posts. Meaning, some bloggers already knew about the cast change before the show aired?”
“The new guy is way too shameless. The show just got popular, and he swooped in to steal the spotlight? That accounting whiz kid got completely shoved aside by a connected insider. What a shame.”
“So annoying! Can capitalism just stay the hell away from us? It’s the weekend; I just wanted to chill and watch some variety TV. Why do they have to force-feed us garbage?”
“At first, I thought the new guy looked okay, but now that I know he’s some nepotism hire… You guys enjoy, I’m going back to reading web novels.”
Over at J Province TV, the real-time ratings had plummeted right after the show aired. The show’s official social media and the TV station’s app kept losing followers at a terrifying rate. Several station executives’ faces turned pitch-black.
The old station director, Song Huaimin, sipped his tea and glanced at the grim-faced deputy director, Pu Xiangdong, flashing a meaningful smile—
“Xiangdong, you’re still too young. You’re too impatient when handling things.”
Pu Xiangdong couldn’t even muster a smile.
For a supposed successor to be told by a higher-up that he’s “too young”? That was definitely not a compliment.
“Too young” meant rash, impulsive, lacking composure, and unable to hold down the fort.
How could someone with such an unstable personality ever be entrusted with the top position at the TV station?
Seeing the smirks on the other deputy directors’ faces, Pu Xiangdong gritted his teeth and forced out a stiff smile. He tried to explain to Song Huaimin, “I had Xiao Cheng replace Xiao Wei for the sake of the station’s revenue. Xiao Cheng has a good relationship with President Zhu. She even promised that if we push Xiao Cheng into the spotlight, she’ll invest five million for this season. And if the show performs well, she’ll take the naming rights for the next season.”
“Well, well, looks like Xiao Cheng’s quite capable. It’s rare for President Zhu to be this generous with her boyfriends,” one of the executives joked.
Since it was confirmed that Cheng Xinghui bought his way into the show, nobody else dared to object. But Song Huaimin wasn’t so easily pacified.
He was only close to retirement, not dead.
And even if he did retire, he’d dedicated his life to this station. Anything that affected its core interests and future development—he had every right to step in.
“Let’s get that five million from President Zhu first.”
“As for the naming rights for next season—heh, if the ratings keep tanking like this, who even knows if there’ll be a next season? President Zhu’s so-called ‘offer’ feels a bit half-hearted, doesn’t it?”
His words made Pu Xiangdong’s face turn red.
And as if cursed by the old director, the ratings kept spiraling downward. The latest episode still did okay thanks to the previous audience base.
But by Episode 6—Cheng Xinghui’s second episode after replacing Wei Sheng—both television and online viewership plummeted!
The post-production team used every trick in the book to salvage it, but “audience appeal” was a mysterious thing.
Even in the entertainment industry, where everything is manufactured, some people just don’t click with audiences.
Take good-looking celebrities, for example. Some are conventionally attractive and backed by powerful investors, yet they still fail to win over fans.
By traditional standards, Cheng Xinghui should look better than Wei Sheng. He was carefully groomed by his agency, his features more refined, and he had a more “star-like” presence.
But as the saying goes: “Sure, you’re good-looking. But you’re just not my type.”
Especially in the age of hypercritical netizens. Many of them, experts in face-tuning detection, could tell at a glance that Cheng Xinghui’s flawless face had been digitally enhanced.
Meanwhile, Wei Sheng—though stunning at first glance—had minor imperfections when examined closely. A clear sign he was all-natural.
And that natural, authentic vibe, combined with his relatable “overworked corporate drone” energy, made him incredibly endearing to fellow office workers and viewers.
Now, with him gone, the replacement—despite being conventionally more handsome—felt… boring.
Plus, Cheng Xinghui’s acting was way too fake.
In this era of rural lifestyle vlogs, did they really think people didn’t know what the countryside was actually like?
If the show had just let things be, it might’ve quietly faded into obscurity.
But Cheng Xinghui’s desperation to become famous was impossible to suppress.
Once he realized people were constantly comparing him to Wei Sheng—and overwhelmingly siding with Wei Sheng—he was livid.
Before long, a suspicious wave of new comments started popping up online.
Hired internet trolls began pushing a narrative:
“Cheng Xinghui is a ‘hero’ who stepped in to save the show!”
They subtly suggested that Wei Sheng was the one who abandoned the program last minute to focus on his civil service exam. Since the show was in a bind, Cheng Xinghui selflessly volunteered to fill in.
“He saved the entire production. So why is everyone blaming him?”
“Shouldn’t they be mad at Wei Sheng for quitting at the last minute?”
And just like that, Wei Sheng—who had peacefully stepped away—was dragged right back into the storm.
For a moment, Wei Sheng, who had originally exited the show in a laid-back manner, was once again pushed into the spotlight.
This time, the melon-eating masses clearly split into two camps.
Supporters argued: Even if Wei Sheng decided to leave the show to prepare for the civil service exam, that was his personal choice, wasn’t it?
Civil servant jobs are highly sought after these days!
If it were their own kid, they would definitely support them choosing the civil service exam over mixing in the entertainment industry.
Opponents countered: No matter the reason, since he had already signed a contract with the show, he should uphold his professional commitment. How could he suddenly drop out halfway through filming to prepare for an exam?
If he wasn’t ready to commit, he shouldn’t have agreed in the first place. But once he did, he should have seen it through.
Someone who lacks basic contract integrity—how could they be fit to serve the people?
No one expected that some righteous netizens would actually tag the J Province Civil Service Exam website, demanding that officials ensure candidates like Wei Sheng—who allegedly disregarded contractual obligations—be eliminated from consideration in the selection process!
Perhaps due to the overwhelming number of tags, the official personnel examination website actually issued a formal response to the public inquiry—
Upon investigation, the University graduate Wei Sheng, reported by netizens, has not registered for this year’s J Province civil service exam. Additionally, no candidates by that name have been found in the current list of applicants.
Oh ho! Now this was getting interesting!
So, if Wei Sheng wasn’t preparing for the civil service exam at all, then why did he suddenly leave the show? And conveniently, the production team immediately found a “more suitable” replacement?
“So, seriously, people need to use their brains when eating melons. How could anyone believe that Wei Sheng unilaterally breached the contract? If that were the case, then let me ask—does J Province TV operate as a charity? The show had just gained popularity, and a key cast member supposedly broke the contract, yet the production team didn’t sue him for damages?”
“LMAO! I said it from the start—this was obviously a case of a well-connected replacement taking over. They booted out an ordinary, background-less newcomer, and now Wei Sheng is not only replaced but also getting blamed for it.”
As enraged netizens stormed the show’s social media pages, the production team found themselves overwhelmed and had no choice but to turn to Deputy Director Pu Xiangdong for guidance.
“Explain? Explain what? Since this whole mess started because of Wei Sheng, let him come forward and explain it to the public himself!”
“I don’t care what excuse or reason he comes up with—even if he has a terminal illness—he must convince the netizens that his departure was entirely his own decision and had absolutely nothing to do with Xiao Cheng or the station!” Pu Xiangdong shouted at producer Wang Yang before angrily dismissing him.
Wang Yang was beyond frustrated—if Pu had the guts to say something this shameless, why didn’t he go talk to Wei Sheng himself?
Clearly, Pu had personally altered the show’s lineup to accommodate his private connections, forcing Wei Sheng out. Now that the situation had blown up, he expected the victim to clean up the mess?
No wonder Pu couldn’t climb higher in his career—his shamelessness still wasn’t thick-skinned enough!
But since it was a direct order from the higher-ups, no matter how disgusting the task was, Wang Yang had to carry it out.
Holding back his disgust, he dialed Wei Sheng’s number.
No answer.
Where was Wei Sheng?
Since the latest two episodes had just finished editing, Wei Sheng had been busy with his side business. He had even taken two days off from work and hired a few people to help him stock up goods in Wutong Town.
Although he wasn’t officially in the civil service yet, he had already made preparations—he bought a new phone and registered a SIM card under Hu Qianqian’s name. From now on, he would use this phone solely for his side business. That way, if he ever officially entered the system and had to declare his personal assets, he wouldn’t be caught off guard.
Because he was using his backup phone, he had left his main phone in the car. By the time he finished loading the goods for shipment and finally checked his phone, it had exploded with missed calls and messages.
“Xiao Wei, there’s an urgent matter at work. Why aren’t you answering? Call me back ASAP!”
“Xiao Wei, where are you? Why haven’t you returned my calls? Deputy Director Pu is very angry—call me back immediately!”
“Forget it. No need to call back. This show is doomed anyway.”
What was going on?
Wei Sheng quickly called back.
The phone rang for a long time before it was finally answered, and Wang Yang’s voice sounded utterly exhausted—
“Wei Sheng, where the hell have you been today? Why haven’t you been answering?”
“Boss Wang, sorry, sorry! I was in Wutong Town helping my grandpa purchase local goods. You know how I bought some specialty products when we filmed here last time? My grandpa liked them and asked me to come back and get a bulk order for him to resell…” Wei Sheng explained honestly.
Wang Yang cut him off immediately. “Wei Sheng, that Xiao Cheng who replaced you has completely flopped online. The station is terminating his contract—do you want to come back?”
Come back?
Come back for what?
Wei Sheng was thoroughly enjoying his side business. Not only could he earn extra income, but he also felt that this gig genuinely helped struggling families in Wutong Town. It was meaningful work!
That said, Wang Yang was still a senior figure at the station, and unless Wei Sheng had been hit on the head by a walnut, he wouldn’t reject a higher-up outright.
After thinking it over, he sincerely explained his situation.
“Here’s the thing, Boss Wang. My mom just divorced my dad and has a lot of free time now. Since we saw so many villagers in Wutong Town with local specialty goods, I figured I could hire some people during holidays to make trips to the countryside, buy wholesale, and set up a small business for my mom to keep her occupied…”
Damn! This kid really knew how to talk!
If he had straight-up said he was running a side hustle, using his free time to make extra money, the higher-ups couldn’t technically object, but they definitely wouldn’t look favorably on it.
But framing it as “helping his recently divorced mother start a small business to pass the time”?
Even the harshest boss would find that hard to criticize.
After all, what leader wouldn’t appreciate an employee who willingly works overtime?
If everyone followed Wei Sheng’s example—disappearing during holidays to run side businesses and make extra cash—then who would the workplace call on for overtime in the future?
But as soon as Wei Sheng spoke, he explained that it was because his mom had divorced his dad. Having been a housewife for so many years, she suddenly found herself without a home, and at her age, finding a job wasn’t easy. Being a filial son, Wei Sheng probably couldn’t bear the thought of his mom working as a housemaid for others, so he decided to go to the countryside himself, buy local specialties in bulk, and set up a small business for her to pass the time… Sigh! What a good kid!
Speaking of which, Wang Yang’s own son was three years younger than Wei Sheng, yet he was still like an overgrown child—whenever he ran out of money, he would just ask the family for more. When he came home for the holidays and his mom asked him to buy a bag of rice, the little brat was too lazy to move and would rather pay extra for a delivery service. He even had a habit of making his wife cry over the smallest things.
Thinking about all this and then comparing it to the sensible and filial Wei Sheng, Wang Yang’s Iron Palm was starting to itch.
(End of chapter)