Who Needs a CEO? I Choose Stardom

Even though Ni Bingyan explained that she went to pay her respects every year, just not with her father, her grandparents still woke her up the next day before the sun was even up.

"It’s good for a young woman to be ambitious about her career. It’s not that we don’t want you to stay, but you have work to do. Don’t waste time at home. Come back when you have a real vacation!"

Ni Bingyan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She could only grab her packed-to-the-brim suitcase and begin her journey home.

She had arrived with bags full of gifts, and as usual, her grandparents’ family packed her suitcase full for her departure. No amount of protesting did any good.

’Sigh! The weight of their love!’

Traveling alone was boring, so while waiting to board her flight, she opened Weibo to have a look.

The entertainment industry had been a complete mess lately, with scandals getting wildly out of hand. The industry bigwigs still needed to make a living, and they certainly didn’t want a bunch of idiots tarnishing the business’s reputation.

If the first thing that came to people’s minds when they heard "entertainment industry" or "celebrity" was just a string of sleazy scandals, how could they possibly have a good impression of the business?

How were these industry leaders supposed to make a living then?

The industry was chaotic, and cleaning it up was fine, but smashing their rice bowls—their very livelihood—was out of the question.

Seeing things spiraling out of control, the bigwigs started to take action. Trending topics were scrubbed from Weibo, and entertainment companies all held emergency meetings.

"If you don’t want to get shelved, then you’d better lay low!"

"There’s always tomorrow. No matter who you have a beef with, don’t be rash. Take it slow, be patient. With the new policies in place, it doesn’t matter if you drop the hammer on them now or later—the result will be the same. Why stick your neck out now and make everyone hate you?"

Nothing they said was as effective as that last part.

When Wei Shuojie had called her earlier, he repeated what his boss said in their meeting, and it had made her laugh her head off.

When she opened Weibo today, no one from the entertainment circle was stirring up trouble. Sure enough, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

She opened the trending list as usual, only to find the top spots filled with all sorts of uplifting, positive stories about society.

It being winter, there was no shortage of news that could make the trending list.

Soldiers braving heavy snow to guard the border, their eyelashes frozen solid, yet still standing firm at their posts. Truly, soldiers of the people!

The sanitation workers who rose at dawn to sweep the streets. Their job may be ordinary, but day after day, year after year, they diligently contribute to our cities. The good life we enjoy today would not be possible without their efforts!

And the firefighters who made the ultimate sacrifice to save lives, the narcotics officers brutally murdered in retaliation for stopping the spread of drugs...

They were all sons to their mothers, husbands to their wives, and fathers to their children. They lost their lives in the interest of the people—don’t they deserve to be trending?

Scientists made new discoveries, new pension regulations were announced, new benefits were added to medical insurance...

Our lives are getting better and better.

Shouldn’t these be the things that are trending?

Many regular Weibo users discovered that society was actually full of so many uplifting stories.

’Why were these stories never on the list before?’

All the entertainment gossip that used to dominate the charts was gone. It was truly a refreshing sight!

Ni Bingyan thought this was a good change.

She was an actress, but she felt the same way many ordinary people did: a platform as massive as Weibo shouldn’t be focused solely on entertainment industry gossip all day long.

It should shoulder the responsibility of promoting positive social values.

She was just scrolling casually while waiting for her flight, and seeing that the whole vibe on Weibo had changed made her a little happy. She couldn’t resist snapping a photo of the airport terminal and posting it:

[The New Year is approaching, and I’m still on the road. I hope that in this life, I will always be on the right path. Airport_Terminal.jpg]

When she got home, she’d planned on asking her father why he’d stabbed her in the back. Why did he have to make her grandparents upset with her? Why did a grown man have to resort to these kinds of petty family schemes?

But the moment she walked in the door, she was hit by waves of a mouth-watering aroma. She looked around and saw several tables set up in the room, all laden with delicious food.

Her father’s apprentices, along with their families, were seated at the tables. With glasses of wine and juice in hand, they were just about to stand up and toast Ni Guangli.

At the sound of the door opening, everyone turned in unison.

Her eldest martial brother’s wife, Wu Huijuan, was the quickest to react. "Oh, Bingbing’s back! Quick, come sit here! Zhou Jin, what are you waiting for? Get your aunt a bowl!"

As she spoke, she even pushed the eldest apprentice to his feet, telling him to give up his seat next to the master.

The moment Ni Bingyan saw her dad wiggle his eyebrows, she understood.

’It’s the end of the year. The work is done. It makes perfect sense for a master to have a meal with his apprentices and their families!’

They were all chefs, and most of them ran their own restaurants. They weren’t short on manpower or ingredients. Even if their master had only told them about the gathering last night, they could still put together a perfect feast without a hitch.

Guisheng Province had no shortage of delicious food, and she had been treated very well at her grandparents’ home. But in the end, you are a product of where you’re from, and she still preferred Sichuan cuisine.

Seeing the table laden with delicacies—all specialties from her father and his apprentices—made her mouth water uncontrollably. How could she possibly stay angry?

’It was just her dad playing a little joke on her. What was there to be upset about?’

’She’d gone to pay her respects and left flowers and offerings. Her dad wasn’t an idiot; how could he not have guessed that she went every year?’

’He’d only said that to get her to come home sooner.’

With that thought, Ni Bingyan immediately grabbed a plastic stool, placed it next to the eldest apprentice, and pushed him back down into his seat.

"Eldest Brother, you stay seated. I’ll just add a seat for myself on the side. Haha! Good thing I rushed, I actually made it in time!"

’As if you knew there was a gathering today.’

With his daughter squeezing in, Ni Guangli had no choice but to shift his chair over.

After a wonderful meal, the father and daughter’s relationship was good as new. Neither of them mentioned the previous day’s incident again.

Unlike the north, the ground in the south doesn’t freeze over, so construction can continue normally through the winter. As a result, the soccer field Ni Guangli had planned was already nearing completion.

He had been spending the last few days overseeing the work there.

Ni Bingyan didn’t know anything about construction. She went with him to the site once, but quickly lost interest.

「Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, it was the twenty-eighth of the twelfth lunar month.」

This year, Lunar New Year’s Eve fell on the thirtieth. The CCTV Spring Festival Gala was always scheduled for that night, and local stations couldn’t compete, so they had to air their galas a day earlier, on the evening of the twenty-ninth.

In recent years, many local channels had started producing their own Spring Festival Galas, and they resorted to all sorts of gimmicks to compete for ratings.

Chili Channel’s gimmick was that their gala was broadcast live.

To ensure a perfect live broadcast and minimize on-stage mishaps, there would be three full rehearsals before the show.

First thing in the morning on the twenty-eighth, Ni Bingyan drove to the television station.

A major event like the Spring Festival Gala was held in the station’s Studio One. When Ni Bingyan arrived, the place was already packed with people.

A gala this large involved several hundred performers. If the station’s organizational skills weren’t up to par, it would be absolute chaos.

But Chili Channel’s organizational skills seemed to be excellent. From the moment Ni Bingyan entered the station, a young production assistant was there to guide her, leading her directly to a corner backstage.

There, she met her partners for the sketch: the three male actors who would be playing her blind dates.

After exchanging pleasantries, Ni Bingyan followed the director’s instructions and began the rehearsal.

They ran through two full rehearsals on the twenty-eighth, eating box lunches backstage for lunch.

On the morning of the twenty-ninth, they ran through another rehearsal. After lunch, everyone began getting into makeup and costume.

At 7:30 p.m., the show went live, right on schedule.

Ni Bingyan had the original owner’s memories of participating in similar events, but she herself had never been on a stage like this. What’s more, it was a live broadcast, where even the smallest slip-up would be magnified for all to see.

She had been quite nervous at first, but after three consecutive rehearsals, she grew familiar with the stage, and all that remained was exhaustion.

Fortunately, the performance went off without a hitch.

Her skit was in the first half of the show, so it wasn’t even ten o’clock when she came off stage. She decided to just sit in the audience and watch the rest of the gala with her dad.

The father-daughter pair happily watched the rest of the show before heading home. Ni Bingyan removed her makeup, took a shower, and ate a few of the low-oil sesame tangyuan her dad had just rolled. Her sleepiness vanished completely.

Her phone had accumulated a pile of New Year’s greeting messages and digital red envelopes, so she sat cross-legged on her bed and slowly went through them.

When she finished and checked the time, it was already a little past three in the morning.

Yawning, she was just about to lie down and sleep when she saw that her cousin had forwarded her a Weibo post.

"Cuz! Your fans are killing me! I’m dying laughing!"

Ever since *My Cousin is a Superstar* got popular, her cousin practically lived on Weibo when she wasn’t drawing her comic. It was perfectly normal for her to see news related to Bingyan.

Her cousin had shared things like this a few times before, and Ni Bingyan usually found them boring. She wasn’t particularly interested this time either, but it was hard to refuse her cousin’s enthusiasm, and it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look. She tapped it open.

The post read: [Our Bingbing is so next-level! To prepare for this skit, she actually went on a real blind date! Pfft~ When I saw the news about her blind-dating before, I thought it was fake. She is way too dedicated!]

Ni Bingyan: "..."