Chapter 22: The Film Emperor Dad Who Was Sacrificed in the Entertainment Industry

Shen Yijing thought of how the outside world evaluated him. Then, looking at this fierce little bird in front of him—who seemed ready to peck him at any second—he lowered his head and kissed its feathered head.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say.”

In today’s entertainment industry, where dating meant scandal and downfall, he was probably the one who had the least to worry about.

Jiujiu lay contentedly in his dad’s palm. He wasn’t just here to help his dad—Star Lord had told him that he had a mission too. He had to keep an eye on his dad and make sure he didn’t fall in love.

His dad cultivated the Dao of Ruthlessness, though his version was a little different from the standard path—it only restricted romantic love. Other emotions, like paternal love for his little chick or friendship, were still allowed.

In his past life, Jiujiu had seen TV dramas where cultivators broke their ruthlessness path for a romantic partner and had always wanted to dive into the screen to ask them what on earth they were thinking.

“Fell asleep?”

His father’s voice drifted down from above. Jiujiu didn’t feel like talking to him, so he just shut his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Shen Yijing looked helplessly at the chubby chick lying across his script, set the script aside, and sighed. This little guy couldn’t even sleep properly—he rolled right out of his palm.

He was already considering having his assistant custom-make a tiny bed once filming wrapped, just so the little guy wouldn’t fall off in the middle of the night.

That night, after Dad had fallen asleep, Jiujiu snuck over and pecked him lightly on the face. But when he noticed his dad start to frown, he quickly tucked his head back and played dead.

Maybe it was because his brain as a chubby chick worked differently from a human’s, but Jiujiu really couldn’t understand how anyone could be willing to break the Dao of Ruthlessness for the sake of a romantic relationship.

His father had started cultivating even before he’d hatched. Tens of thousands of years of lonely cultivation, countless bottlenecks and hardships…

Even though his father’s Dao Heart was steady and said that he could start over again if he failed, Jiujiu still felt heartache just thinking about it.

The next morning, when Shen Yijing woke up, he glanced over at the chick sprawled out beside him and gave his wing a gentle tug.

“Oww! Daddy pulled Jiujiu’s wing! I need at least three strawberries before I can recover!”

“Faking injuries isn’t a good habit.”

Shen Yijing picked him up and brought him to the bathroom. Jiujiu was forced to wash his face and then tilted his head to stare at his dad.

Would he really need to go through this every day after transforming into a human too? The thought alone gave Jiujiu a headache.

Star Lord said he’d be quite small when he first transformed—he didn’t know if Dad would be willing to help shave his face when the time came.

While they were eating breakfast, Shen Yijing’s agent came in with a slightly grim expression.

“Yijing, did that Su Ru girl come to ask you questions last night?”

“She did.”

As Shen Yijing nodded, he plucked the stems off some strawberries and held them up for Jiujiu, who was jumping and trying to reach them. His eyes were full of amusement.

“A paparazzi caught it on camera. They’re saying your image of being kind to newcomers is all just a publicity stunt, and that you’re actually cold and unhelpful in private.”

The agent had never hyped up such an image for him anyway. Image-building like that was only necessary in the early stages of a career.

Now Shen Yijing had both acting skills and looks, and had never touched plastic surgery. Even though he was pushing thirty, he could still play a teenage boy with zero dissonance.

Unless he suddenly lost his mind, there was no reason for him to push a fragile image like that.

As someone who had worked in the industry for over ten years, the agent wouldn’t make such rookie mistakes.

“Let me see.”

Shen Yijing took the phone and glanced at it. The accusations were varied and baseless. Jiujiu climbed onto his shoulder and stretched his neck to peek too.

“There’s no way this is a coincidence—someone’s clearly behind it.”

After reading it all, Shen Yijing calmly stated his judgment.

It wasn’t serious blackmail material and wouldn’t cause much actual damage, but it was still pretty disgusting.

“Can you check out the company behind Su Ru? I think they’re definitely involved.”

“Sure. I’ll update you by noon.”

Jiujiu had been wanting to remind his dad earlier, but most of the plot-related things were off-limits for him to talk about. Just as he was getting anxious, Shen Yijing said exactly what he’d wanted to.

Overjoyed, Jiujiu almost jumped up to give his dad a big hug.

“Daddy, how did you know?”

Shen Yijing looked at Jiujiu’s beady eyes, scratched his chin, and said seriously—because even if his kid had turned into a bird, a father still had to teach properly.

“When you’re not sure who did something, put yourself in their shoes. Think about who benefits the most from the situation.”

Jiujiu nodded, half understanding, and laid there waiting for Dad to bring the strawberry to his mouth.

He didn’t get what Dad said exactly, but he knew one thing—if this were the Heavenly Realm and Dad said someone was wrong, then they were definitely wrong. And as the Heavenly Realm’s little prince, he’d back Dad up all the way.

When they got to the set, the director had already heard about the situation and pulled Shen Yijing aside to tell him to be careful.

Then, right before shooting began, the director said aloud in front of everyone:

“If anyone doesn’t understand the script, you can come ask me or the assistant director.”

Su Ru had just finished makeup when she heard this. No amount of foundation could hide the ugliness on her face.

At lunch, Shen Yijing was feeding rice to Jiujiu, who was chewing while constantly peeking at the braised pork in a nearby extra’s lunchbox.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to continue eating the bland food with his dad.

In this world, his dad was really pitiful—he only had a few things he could eat every day.

Though Jiujiu was dying to try the pork, he forced down his craving.

If Dad couldn’t have it, he wouldn’t eat it either. They’d suffer through it together.

Just then, the agent came in with a folder and placed it in front of Shen Yijing.

“Yup, it’s definitely the company behind her stirring the pot. They’re using you to generate buzz, and once the show airs, they’ll do another sympathy campaign.”

Shen Yijing had only wanted to understand what happened. But now that he heard their full plan, his hand paused as he fed Jiujiu.

“I’m not taking the blame for this. Let’s clarify things.”

“Got it. Leave it to me. Hey, where’d you get this little chick from? It’s weirdly cute. I might get one for my kid too.”

Hearing someone call him cute, Jiujiu immediately perked up and bounced over, fixing his beady eyes on the agent.

He even patted his dad’s hand with a wing, signaling: Did you hear that? That’s how you should praise your kid!

“Last time I bought a chick for my kid, he raised it real well—but when my mom visited, she mistook it for a countryside chicken and slaughtered it.”

“When I went home, he was still complaining about how evil Grandma was.”

Jiujiu scooted closer to his dad, instantly alarmed. This guy was clearly dangerous.

“It was from a crew member last time. Bro, don’t say stuff like that in front of Jiujiu. He’ll get scared.”

“What? A chick like him can get scared?”

Jiujiu nestled into his father’s arms and gestured for him to hurry up and feed him.

“It’s just a chick! Why are you so protective of him?”

Grumbling, the agent turned to leave and go handle the issue. Who said his artist didn’t help newcomers? Just recently, Shen Yijing had personally gotten on the wires to demonstrate a fight scene for someone.

As expected, the agent worked quickly. By speaking through some extras, they clarified that Shen Yijing hadn’t refused to help—he’d just politely declined because it was late, and even suggested going to the director for help.

That afternoon during makeup, Jiujiu sat on the table munching sunflower seeds while Shen Yijing read through the comment section.

The movie he had starred in not long ago had just been released recently, so the buzz around him was pretty high. Even the tiniest little thing could attract attention.

【If you don’t understand the script, just ask the director. It’s one thing if you’re a background extra, but sis, you’re the lead—what are you afraid of?】

【I don’t get it. Why would you go asking about the role in the middle of the night instead of just waiting until tomorrow? Isn’t it well known in the crew that Shen Yijing’s health isn’t great?】

Back when he had to shoot under intense, irregular hours day and night, Shen Yijing had indeed sustained some lasting damage. He himself didn’t think much of it, but his fans always worried about him.

Anytime it got past 10 p.m., people on every social media platform would start urging him to go to sleep.

Shooting late into the night was understandable, but for a newcomer to seek help that late—it just came off as a little rude.

Jiujiu carefully cracked open the sunflower seeds, setting the kernels aside in a small dish for later. He was treating this task with the utmost seriousness, like it was an important job.

Shen Yijing picked up his phone and snapped a photo of Jiujiu, then uploaded it.

Before he could even type out a caption, he suddenly realized—his behavior now looked exactly like those parents who loved showing off their kids on social media.

When Jiujiu pushed the sunflower seeds toward him and chirped, signaling for him to eat, Shen Yijing gave his little head a ruffle.

“Wait a second.”

Shen Yijing: Hired child laborer, seriously shelling sunflower seeds.

Below was a photo of a chubby little bird with bean-like eyes staring into the camera, holding an uncracked sunflower seed in its beak.