Chapter 81: Film Emperor (1)

Returning to the system space, Yu Qian remained silent for a moment before slowly beginning to shape her new body.

There’s an old saying: even dogs dislike seven- or eight-year-old children. Yu Qian hadn’t expected that she, too, could be so mischievous.

In her now-fading memories of her life before transmigrating, she didn’t recall ever being a “troublesome” child.

Back then, she had lived alternately at her uncle’s and her uncle-in-law’s homes, and the only things she remembered were the praises they gave her in front of others—saying she was obedient and well-behaved.

Unlike her cousins, she never demanded things, nor was she picky about food.

She didn’t fight with her siblings over toys; she simply took whatever was left and was content. She never threw tantrums and didn’t cry easily.

She had never experienced parental love, nor had she ever been subjected to a parent’s anger.

But now, she had gained experience.

She had been spoiled “rotten” by the love from one world after another, turning into a child in the purest sense.

Thinking of the silent Demon Lord who had gazed into the distance without even glancing down at her before she closed her eyes, Yu Qian was momentarily lost in thought.

She had assumed that world had come to an end and that she would vanish due to her failure—yet she had instead heard the system announce a successful conquest.

Leaving that world and growing from a child into an adult, Yu Qian felt a pang of regret in that instant.

She regretted that the child hadn’t told him that, in truth, she didn’t dislike him. Not only that, but she had actually always wanted him to play with her.

If only she hadn’t thrown a tantrum and said he wasn’t as good as Qu Lingyu’s father before she left.

【Host, there was a delay in ending this mission, but I have completed my self-check.】

【So far, you’ve transmigrated into three worlds, but you’ve only ever completed the basic missions, without acquiring any fortune at all. If this continues, not only will your soul gradually wear away from repeated transmigrations, but even the system itself will run out of energy—like the delay that just occurred.】

The system had a lot to complain about.

【In this mission world, if you were willing, you could have reunited with the person you’ve always missed, grown up safely, and obtained fortune. If only—】

As soon as it started speaking, Yu Qian sped up her actions, responding perfunctorily while setting her new body to three years old.

“I’m leaving now. If anything comes up, you can tell Qian later.”

System: …

Wasn’t the whole reason it had chosen this moment to convince her because she’d be too young to communicate once she transmigrated?!

But in that very instant, its troublesome host had already entered the mission world without looking back—without giving it another chance to speak.

On Monday morning, subway stations, buses, and office buildings were packed with workers who hadn’t yet recovered from the short weekend.

Suddenly, phones all around began buzzing with notification chimes, shattering the dull expressions on people’s faces.

Looking at the sudden trending news, many visibly perked up.

Another ordinary workday, rescued by a juicy scandal.

A certain well-known married actor in the entertainment industry had been caught cheating with his co-star. He had secretly met up with her at midnight, and because he hadn’t closed the curtains, everything was captured on camera—causing an earthquake in the industry.

As everyone knew, the entertainment world was like a seismic zone, prone to frequent quakes—one minor one every day, a major one every three days.

From something as small as an actor’s beautiful smile to something as big as tax evasion or criminal activity, the trending topics were constantly changing.

Heartbroken fans and nosy onlookers scoured the internet for every new update.

Within a single morning, the scandal had exploded—public fights between the couple, the mistress crying and apologizing, friends and family taking sides—so much drama that if you didn’t check for ten minutes, you’d be left behind.

Of course, for industry insiders, none of this was a surprise.

Who was faking their marriage and living separately behind the scenes? It was all an open secret.

But knowing was one thing—if the scandal wasn’t about your own people, it was always fun to watch.

Feng Yu scrolled through her phone with a smirk.

No other reason—just that today’s disgraced Film Emperor was the same man who had once snatched a role from one of her artists, Tong Jianxu, causing an unpleasant dispute.

That man had later won a cheap film award for the stolen role, letting the success get to his head, and had even taken jabs at her artist.

What a joke—who wasn’t a Film Emperor these days?

Now that he was getting his karma, wasn’t that just satisfying?

The entertainment industry was full of glamorous, young, and attractive people. With fame and sudden wealth, temptation abounded, and many failed to uphold their moral boundaries.

Fortunately, the artists under Feng Yu’s management were all decent.

Especially her main talent right now—Tong Jianxu, Film Emperor Tong.

Aside from a few minor quirks, he required little management.

Dedicated to his craft, talented, with a great public image and good luck—he caused no trouble, never got involved in scandals, and made her job as a manager incredibly easy.

Thinking of the new scripts, variety show offers, and endorsement deals she had recently received, Feng Yu was all smiles. Even the trees along the street looked greener, the flowers brighter, and even the little girl sitting by the roadside appeared particularly adorable.

…Huh?

Feng Yu had almost walked past the little girl when she suddenly sensed something off. She took two steps back, staring intently at the child’s face.

This was an old villa district in S City’s historic center, filled with decades-old Western-style houses.

While most celebrities nowadays preferred high-end apartments or luxury estates, Tong Jianxu had bought a three-story Western-style villa here, nestled among wisteria, camphor trees, and creeping vines. The area was tranquil yet prestigious—with a current market value exceeding 200 million yuan.

The neighborhood was typically quiet, and Feng Yu often enjoyed strolling down this plane tree-lined street whenever she visited.

Today, however, was destined to be a hair-raising day for Manager Feng.

Because right near her artist’s home, she had just spotted a child who looked exactly like him.

And not just a vague resemblance—no, this was the kind of similarity that couldn’t exist unless he had reproduced asexually.

Still, as a seasoned manager who had seen plenty of scandals, this alone wasn’t enough to rattle her.

After all, she had encountered quite a few “civilian lookalikes” of various celebrities over the years.

A resemblance alone meant nothing—pure coincidence, perhaps…

Feng Yu frantically tried to convince herself as she forced a kindly smile onto her face and approached the child sitting by the street.

The little girl looked about two or three years old, with no adults around. She was wearing a duck-patterned dress and playing with fallen leaves on the ground.

“Hey there, little one. Do you live around here? Are your parents nearby?”

The child didn’t seem to be in a good mood. She glanced up at Feng Yu, shook her head, then lowered it again and continued playing with the sycamore leaves.

That melancholic expression, the moment she lifted her head—the innocence and clarity in her eyes—it was just like Tong Jianxu.

In one of Tong Jianxu’s blockbuster movies, among the ten most screenshotted moments by his fans, there was an image captured from a similar angle. Feng Yu still had that GIF saved on her phone.

A bad feeling began to creep up on her.

Ignoring how she might look like a suspicious woman trying to abduct a child, she tried again, “It’s dangerous to be alone here. What are your parents’ names? Do you remember their phone number? I can call them to come pick you up, okay?”

The little girl—Qian—finally lifted her head upon hearing that.

“You’re going to help me find my dad?”

“Yes! What’s your daddy’s name?”

Every time she transmigrated to a new world, most details were unclear, but her father’s name and appearance were always the most vivid.

Under the nervous gaze of the pretty lady, Qian slowly said a name: “Tong Jianxu. Daddy.”

Feng Yu’s expression cracked on the spot.

Just moments ago, she had been marveling at how her Film Emperor was such a clean slate, never causing any trouble, making her job so easy.

Who would have thought? The slap in the face came so fast.

Tong Jianxu had debuted at seventeen, landing a lead role in a famous director’s film right from the start. Director Luo Hai had discovered him at a high school campus, even going to his home to personally invite him for the part.

That tragic film about youth and school violence was widely acclaimed, winning multiple awards. Tong Jianxu’s portrayal of the protagonist left a lasting impression, and he became a symbol of the pure, unattainable “white moonlight” youth in many people’s hearts. Even years later, whenever people discussed the most stunning portrayals of youthful innocence, he was always at the top of the list.

However, due to family reasons, Tong Jianxu didn’t immediately enter the entertainment industry. It wasn’t until he was twenty-three that he officially became an actor.

The natural talent that Director Luo Hai had once praised hadn’t faded with time; instead, it had grown even more unique and captivating as he matured.

His first drama role was as the third male lead—a villain in a xianxia series, a ruthless, ambitious man who would stop at nothing for power, utterly indifferent to love.

With just his acting alone, he made this villain more compelling than the protagonist.

From then on, his career skyrocketed.

Starting with TV dramas, then movies, winning Best Supporting Actor, Film Emperor… Over the past decade, Feng Yu had been there every step of the way as his manager, witnessing his rise.

Off-screen, they had a great relationship, almost like siblings. Feng Yu even knew Tong Jianxu’s biggest secrets.

But how could she not know that he had a daughter?! And she was already three years old!

As she carried the child toward Tong Jianxu’s townhouse, Feng Yu’s mind raced, recalling all the awards and achievements he had accumulated over the years. At the same time, she was frantically thinking—if this really was his daughter, how would they handle the public relations crisis? What should they do about the child’s future? His current public image, all his endorsements…

Her brain was on the verge of exploding, and the sound of her high heels clicking against the pavement was as urgent as the pounding of war drums.

Holding onto the chubby three-year-old, Feng Yu strode forward in high heels with perfect balance and strength—an impressive feat that anyone watching would have to praise as incredible.

Qian, nestled in her arms, couldn’t help but keep looking down at Feng Yu’s feet and her high heels.

“Tong Jianxu!”

“Film Emperor Tong!”

The moment she stepped into the house, Feng Yu didn’t even bother changing into slippers and rushed straight up to the third floor.

The entire third floor was Tong Jianxu’s private space. Right now, the door was tightly shut, and everything was quiet, as if the owner was still asleep.

Normally, Feng Yu would first check the fridge to see if there was anything to eat before gently waking up her artist for breakfast.

But now, all she wanted to know was whether the ticking time bomb in her arms was about to explode, when it would go off, and whether Tong Jianxu even knew of its existence.

“Tong Jianxu! This is a huge problem! How can you still be sleeping? Get up right now!”

Her fist, as strong as a sandbag, pounded on the door.

Damn this ridiculously expensive, soundproof, antique door.

If Tong Jianxu had taken sleeping pills before bed, then right now, he was practically a Sleeping Beauty—no ordinary person could wake him up.

Feng Yu shouted until she was exhausted, finally setting the child down and repeatedly calling his phone.

The dial tone rang endlessly.

Finally, after her relentless efforts, there was movement from inside.

The door opened, revealing a face that was both dull and radiant.

Dull, because he looked utterly exhausted, clearly lacking rest, his mood somewhat low.

Radiant, because of his sheer beauty. Even in this just-woken-up, makeup-free state—with lips slightly pale—he still seemed to have a soft-focus glow.

Dressed in loose, plain-colored long sleeves and pants, barefoot, Tong Jianxu opened the door, just about to speak—only to lock eyes with the child standing at Feng Yu’s feet.

Tong Jianxu hesitated for a moment before asking, “Sis, when did you have a kid?”

Feng Yu: “Bro, I’m calling you ‘bro’! I should be the one asking you—when did you have a kid?!”

Tong Jianxu: “?”