Chapter 54: Broadcast
Competition between two dramas was entirely normal, and Lu Xu didn’t give it much thought.
Not only was The Empress’s earlier release a typical schedule adjustment, but even when platforms and production companies joined forces to suppress a particular drama, it was considered standard industry practice.
There was no avoiding it.
Besides, The Path of Bones and The Empress were not even the same type of drama. As long as the quality was up to par, both could attract their respective audiences, and a win-win outcome wasn’t out of the question.
[You’re thinking too optimistically, but unfortunately…]
Lei Ai sent Lu Xu a few links.
The day before, the director had been calm. However, after waking up, he found that several drama bloggers with sizable followings had started compiling lists of “February’s New Drama Releases.”
In theory, these promotional posts were supposed to maintain an objective and impartial tone. Yet, the phrasing used by several bloggers was oddly suggestive, subtly disparaging The Path of Bones.
Lei Ai initially thought he might be overthinking it, but Kong Le confidently assured him that his suspicions were correct.
As a writer, Kong Le was far more sensitive to language than most people.
“They literally said, ‘It faintly reminds people of the grand opening of Undercover,’” Kong Le pointed out. “If that’s not a veiled jab, what is?”
The director was baffled. Given Qiao Mengyao’s formidable track record, it was already difficult enough for The Path of Bones to outperform The Empress. There was no need for Deyi Film to preemptively hype up The Path of Bones’ potential failure.
Fortunately, Lei Ai wasn’t entirely without connections in the industry, and Grape Film had excellent intel. Word had it that a deputy general manager from Deyi Film had revealed during a drinking party that The Empress’s rescheduled release was intentional.
For one, Qiao Mengyao and Wei Fangfei were close friends, and during Qiao Mengyao’s early career, she had benefited greatly from Wei Fangfei’s support.
Of course, that wasn’t the main reason. Qiao Mengyao’s personality leaned toward being steady and cautious. The rescheduling of The Empress had little impact on her, and she merely acquiesced to Deyi Film’s approach.
The second reason—
“Lin Ge, Ningshi, Yeohai… They all played a part. It seems your lead actor has offended quite a few people,” Lei Ai’s contact remarked.
With that hint, Lei Ai immediately understood.
It likely wasn’t that Lu Xu had offended many people, but rather, for certain individuals in the industry, The Path of Bones simply couldn’t succeed.
Lin Ge Entertainment was self-explanatory. Ningshi managed the lead and second male actors of The Empress, both of whom were rising stars eager to solidify their positions. Even though Lu Xu didn’t compete with them directly, for those two, The Empress had to outshine The Path of Bones during this release period.
Yeohai, on the other hand, was the agency representing Zhang Che.
“How many targets has Xiao Lu set up for himself?” Lei Ai sighed.
“Because he doesn’t have any weaknesses,” Kong Le replied.
Male actors in their rising phase often faced rivals’ attempts to undermine them. However, some didn’t need much effort to be brought down—flaws would naturally surface.
For instance, actors with outstanding looks often had mediocre acting skills. A few clips of poor performances would be enough to cement bad acting as their personal label.
These actors could achieve short-term fame but rarely maintained it in the long run.
Lu Xu, however, was different.
Leaving his looks aside, his natural talent in acting was obvious to anyone discerning. The shift in the book fans’ attitude before and after The Path of Bones’ trailer release was evidence enough.
The second trailer for The Path of Bones focused on suspense, featuring only a few scenes of Lu Xu. Yet, the book fans seemed even more eager to see the series.
Given the failure of Undercover, the fact that The Path of Bones still garnered such anticipation made the reason clear to everyone in the production team.
This was exactly why Lu Xu was being targeted.
Lei Ai wasn’t sure if these companies had coordinated their efforts to undermine Lu Xu or if it was just a coincidence. If it were the latter, it only underscored the extent of the threat he posed.
“The entertainment industry sure is complicated,” Kong Le couldn’t help but sigh. “Thank goodness I’m just a novelist.”
Objectively speaking, if the team behind The Empress were determined to suppress The Path of Bones, there wasn’t much the latter’s crew could do to fight back—unless they managed to surpass The Empress in popularity.
“Big productions truly exude confidence,” Lei Ai remarked with a sigh.
“We shouldn’t lose faith either. We’ll only know the outcome once the series airs,” Kong Le said reassuringly.
…
In truth, the situation for The Path of Bones was not as dire as some assumed, nor was the The Empress production team as composed as people imagined.
Grape Film, a giant in marketing, cleared its best platform spaces two days before The Path of Bones’s release. They prominently displayed a massive poster featuring Yu Yi with a chilling smile—a photo so captivating that the number of people swapping their profile pictures to Yu Yi’s character shot from the drama skyrocketed.
Even Lu Xu, usually not one to exert extra effort, became unusually proactive, enthusiastically participating in various promotional events for the drama.
While The Path of Bones went all out on marketing, Deyi Films was not about to be outdone. One trending topic about The Empress followed another in rapid succession.
The two production teams battled fiercely on social media, creating a heated atmosphere that made it feel like the summer blockbusters had already begun.
It was only at this point that Deyi Film suddenly realized February’s release schedule had unwittingly turned into a head-to-head competition between two juggernauts.
What did this signify?
It elevated The Path of Bones!
Whether intentional or not, The Path of Bones had, little by little, gained visibility no less than The Empress.
And this was significant—The Path of Bones was only Lu Xu’s first drama as the male lead. Within the acting community, Lu Xu was still considered a newcomer.
Meanwhile, Qiao Mengyao was practically a guaranteed crowd-puller!
In a sense, Lu Xu wasn’t even qualified to play the male lead opposite Qiao Mengyao.
Now, with the two dramas being compared side by side, wasn’t this effectively pulling Qiao Mengyao’s status down to the same level as Lu Xu?
To make matters worse, on the day both dramas premiered, Grape Film released a candid photo of Lu Xu in casual attire.
The photo was clearly taken recently and appeared unedited. Lu Xu wore nothing but a simple sports jacket and displayed a surprised expression at the camera.
[…Does flaunting male charm even work?]
[Could they be any more lowbrow?]
[…Do they really think a single photo can boost their popularity?]
The result?
The promotional post by Grape Film garnered hundreds of thousands of shares, and the number of people marking The Path of Bones as “want to watch” surged.
Deyi Film: “…”
Lowbrow marketing actually worked!
#StopCheating
#YourFaceIsntEnough
Not to be outdone, on the release day of The Empress, Qiao Mengyao’s promotional post broke records for celebrity retweets.
The first to share it was Wei Fangfei. Following her, Zhang Che also retweeted the post. Several other notable male actors in the industry followed suit, including two who had previously clashed with Zhang Che over lead billing disputes. Yet now, they retweeted his post without a trace of awkwardness.
[Reconciliation achieved!]
[Brothers bonding!]
Later, Xie Qingyang, Gu Sinian, and Meng Qin also joined in, posting: [An amazing sister we’ve worked with before. Best of luck with the new drama!]
The gossip-loving public initially thought Xie Qingyang and the others, known for their “performative” tendencies, would at least retweet something from The Path of Bones’s team for appearances. However, after waiting for ages, their feeds remained silent.
[Has Verse officially fallen out with Lu Xu?]
[Wow, not even pretending anymore.]
[Remember when Lu Xu was still a nobody? Every little move he made would get retweeted by them, and their fans would pity their ‘poor brother’ while trashing Lu Xu for being unworthy. Now? Yikes.]
[‘They fear their brother’s struggles but fear even more when he succeeds.’]
[Ahem, correction: these three wish Lu Xu would struggle even harder.]
In response, Lu Xu simply stated: if they wouldn’t retweet, he’d do it himself.
The internet never forgets. Lu Xu quickly dug up last year’s posts where Xie Qingyang and the others had flaunted their so-called team camaraderie.
It had to be said—the original owner had always been nothing more than a tool for the others to build their personas. With just a casual scroll through his feed, Lu Xu unearthed dozens of posts.
“Verse will always be one family.” — Repost.
“Although we’re apart for now, I believe the day will come when we meet again.” — Repost.
“Today marks the Xth anniversary of Verse’s debut. Do you still remember what we looked like back then?” — Repost.
“Lu Xu is still Verse’s Lu Xu!” — Repost.
[Am I not good enough for the people I’ve worked with?]
[It’s obviously a four-person drama. I demand recognition!]
…
[Alright, alright! You’re doing great!]
[Hahaha, Verse is bonding again!]
[Why aren’t they reposting anything from The Path of Bones? Is Lu Xu not worthy?]
[LOL, I’ve noticed something—Lu Xu only drags Verse! He doesn’t bother with anyone else!]
[Hold up, Chen Ye might want a word about that!]
[This is peak ‘plastic brotherhood.’ Such convincing acting!]
When the hashtag #VerseTeamBondingWithoutLuXu hit the trending topics, the higher-ups at Deyi Film were livid.
Just as Qiao Mengyao’s post was breaking records with its reposts and Deyi Film was preparing to promote her as well-connected and tied to a hotly anticipated drama, Lu Xu swooped in and stole the spotlight with his antics.
Now, who cared about how many friends Qiao Mengyao had in the industry? Everyone was busy watching Lu Xu publicly call out his former teammates!
To this, the gossip-hungry netizens declared: “Having lots of friends is boring. Watching them fight is way more fun!”
[Good relationships might be fake, but bad ones are definitely real!]
Lu Xu, now a seasoned pro in the art of social media battles, didn’t disappoint. His combat power was off the charts!
Thanks to this round of drama, the attention on The Path of Bones soared yet again.
Grape Film had suffered in the past from Lu Xu’s “bloody physique”. Now that Lu Xu was causing trouble for their competitors, the executives at Grape Film finally felt vindicated.
“At least it’s not just us this time, hahaha.”
#LuXuStrikesAgain
…
Amid the noise and chaos, The Path of Bones and The Empress premiered simultaneously.
Lu Xu chose to watch The Path of Bones first.
From what he recalled, most of the material he had filmed made it into the final cut, while scenes that didn’t contribute to the pacing had been cleverly repurposed by Lei Ai to enrich the details.
The first two episodes marked the beginning of Yu Yi’s path to vengeance. The pacing wasn’t particularly fast, but from Lu Xu’s perspective, the contrasting warmth and coldness of Yu Yi’s character were strikingly apparent.
The stark transformation—from warm to icy—was impossible to ignore.
When watching his own work, Lu Xu remained especially analytical, focusing solely on pacing and performance. The first two episodes didn’t reveal much in terms of overall quality since the story had only just begun.
However, he understood the kind of narrative The Path of Bones was aiming to tell. The suspense had been successfully handed off to the audience.
Afterward, Lu Xu turned his attention to The Empress.
He didn’t bother comparing the buzz surrounding the two dramas—there was no need to obsess over it. The audience would make their judgments.
In the first two episodes of The Empress, Qiao Mengyao had not yet appeared. The focus was on the younger actors’ performances.
The story followed the young years of the benevolent Empress Xi Rongyi, who started as a neglected princess. It was precisely because she was overlooked that she came to see the cruel, predatory nature of the palace—where blood relatives fought each other to the death for personal gain.
Even as a royal daughter, she could have easily disappeared in silence within the palace walls.
As the emperor’s daughter, the only thing she could fight for was her father’s favor.
But so what?
Even her elder sister, who was deeply favored, had been sent far away for a political marriage by their father. Entrusting your fate to others was the most foolish and dangerous thing in the world.
Lu Xu glanced up at the screen. This plot? Fascinating!
Although the young actor’s performance felt slightly overdone and lacked finesse, such minor flaws were easily overlooked given the strength of the story.
Lu Xu thought, as long as The Empress followed its original storyline, its ratings wouldn’t be disappointing.