Looks familiar, doesn’t it?
That day when Song Foxiang donated a million to the provincial writers’ association, Zhao Dong did exactly the same!
Now, Song Foxiang was using the same tactic to get back at Zhao Dong. In martial arts novels, this move is called “using their own methods against them”!
With a quick glance, Song Foxiang spotted several familiar faces at the banquet, while Zhao Dong stood on stage, dumbfounded, completely unprepared for Song’s sudden, dramatic entrance. Heh, it wasn’t in vain that Song had waited outside the hotel with his crew for so long, finally seizing the perfect moment.
“Sir, you can’t barge in without an invitation!”
The hotel staff tried to stop Song Foxiang, but among his press entourage was a photographer over 190 cm tall and weighing more than 200 pounds, carrying massive equipment and moving swiftly. To secure exclusive news, the photographer shielded Editor-in-Chief Song, pushing through the crowd to get him to the stage.
The banquet erupted into chaos.
“Make way, please make way.”
“Excuse me, let me through!”
Reporters shoved through the crowd, securing the best spots below the stage.
Boosted by the burly photographer, Song Foxiang leapt onto the stage, grabbed the microphone, and unleashed a tirade at Zhao Dong:
“You shameless scoundrel, giving me fake materials to ghostwrite your autobiography!”
“I’m guilty, truly blinded by your payment, writing that rubbish *Zhao Family Chronicles*. Your money reeks of filth, and I, Song, am returning it to you now!”
The paper bag Song Foxiang clutched wasn’t filled with anything else but hundred-yuan notes. As his words landed, he flung the bag’s contents at Zhao Dong, and the bills scattered across the floor, with reporters below frantically snapping photos.
“Your filthy money, take it back, I’m done!”
“Zhao Dog, you’ve ruined my years of good reputation. Today, I’ll expose your true face!”
People who achieve modest success in writing tend to think clearly and can articulate a story well. Song Foxiang came prepared with a script, and before Zhao Dong could react, he’d already spilled most of the dirt.
By the time he got to how the Zhao family had disgraced their ancestors—from Zhao Dong’s aunt marrying her boyfriend’s father, to Zhao Dong’s father abandoning his wife and child for a rich woman, and Zhao Dong trying to replicate his father’s success only to be exposed and kicked out by a foreign heiress’s family—Zhao Dong’s fist landed on Song Foxiang’s face.
Zhao Dong was driven mad by Song Foxiang.
What kind of occasion was this?
It was Zhao Dong’s long-awaited moment of glory, ruined by Song Foxiang!
“Zhao, Zhao Dog, you even want to silence me with murder!”
Pfft—
Someone among the banquet guests, now in full spectator mode, burst out laughing.
Jiang Xuekun shot his foolish son a warning glance, and Jiang Youjia bit his lip hard.
No wonder he laughed; Editor-in-Chief Song was too deep in character, talking about silencing with murder at a time like this.
Unlike Xie Jinghu that day, Zhao Dong was younger and a fitness enthusiast, so Song Foxiang couldn’t overpower him.
Song Foxiang was brazen, taking a few punches and then running, shouting as he fled, “I knew it, this isn’t some cultured man, just a thug back from abroad. If anything happens to me, it’s definitely Zhao Dong’s revenge!”
Song Foxiang wasn’t running aimlessly; he deliberately darted toward the leader who admired Zhao Dong.
As he ran, camera lenses followed, and the leader’s face darkened.
Someone stopped Song Foxiang, and others blocked Zhao Dong.
It was Song Foxiang’s press crew!
The reporters swarmed Zhao Dong, pressing the man himself to verify if Editor-in-Chief Song’s accusations were true.
“Of course it’s all false!”
Panting, Zhao Dong regained his composure from Song Foxiang’s provocation, no longer chasing him, and declared he’d sue Song for slander, “This is a setup, a legitimate business tactic!”
Sigh, you finally get it.
Song Foxiang, after taking a few punches, had a face like a spilled palette, red and purple in a vivid display.
The reporters turned to mob Zhao Dong, and Song Foxiang was finally dragged away by hotel security.
As he was hauled out, Song Foxiang kept cursing Zhao Dong as a fraud.
“Tricking me into ghostwriting is minor, but everyone, beware, don’t let him scam your money!”
The speaker had intent, and the listeners took note.
Song Foxiang’s words echoed the crowd’s concerns.
People backed Zhao Dong because of his apparent strength.
If, as Song Foxiang claimed, there was no story of the Zhao family immigrating, thriving through hard work and sharp investments, and Zhao Dong’s background and wealth were fake, what was the point of supporting him?
No one was counting on Zhao Dong to introduce them to American heiresses.
Those who had considered pairing Zhao Dong with their daughters or nieces quickly abandoned the idea.
A professional gold-digger family? Who’d dare let a wolf into their home?
Whispers of doubt and scrutiny spread through the room.
Zhao Dong wished he could tear Song Foxiang apart, but Song had already been forcibly removed by security.
Zhao Dong pushed through the reporters’ encirclement, trying to explain to the leader who admired him, but the leader, hating to be caught on camera in such a farcical mess, had already slipped out through a side door.
“Director Fang…”
“Chairman Zhang.”
Whoever Zhao Dong called out to avoided his gaze.
Moments ago, they were brothers; now, they feared being tied to him.
The reporters swarmed again, and the banquet was thoroughly ruined.
Jiang Xuekun set down his glass, signalling Jiang Youjia it was time to leave.
“Let’s go.”
“Dad, that’s it?”
Jiang Youjia hesitated, but Jiang Xuekun cut to the chase, “A thousand-mile dam falls to an ant’s nest. Zhao Dong won’t win the bid.”
Song Foxiang spoke of the *Zhao Family Chronicles* ghostwriting, but it wasn’t just about that.
If the autobiography was fake, the Zhao family’s wealth took a hit.
And Zhao Dong’s bidding strength was likewise suspected of fraud!
Zhao Dong had taken a novel route, using a book to package himself into Rongcheng’s cultural circle, rising swiftly. But the backlash would be just as severe.
Today’s scene seemed like Song Foxiang’s personal vendetta, but little did they know how much effort Xie Qian had put in behind the scenes.
Exposing Zhao Dong’s dirt, and choosing the right moment to do so?
Xie Qian likely couldn’t have gone straight to Song Foxiang.
It had to be sent to Zhao Dong’s competitors!
This was orchestrated by Jiang Xuekun.
Song Foxiang was the perfect choice, someone with a grudge against Zhao Dong, making his retaliation plausible.
Plus, Song Foxiang had some fame in Rongcheng’s local cultural circle. His self-exposure of the ghostwriting scandal made the accusations against Zhao Dong credible. Hiring a random person wouldn’t have had the same impact!
As for Song Foxiang’s own future… no one forced him to do this. The reward offered by Zhao Dong’s competitors was one Song Foxiang was very satisfied with.
…
Reports of Song Foxiang’s outburst at the banquet were ultimately suppressed, not making waves across the city.
This was what many wanted.
Being fooled by Zhao Dong’s crafted image wasn’t exactly glorious!
A few days later, Wen Ying saw a report on provincial TV news: a major group signed with the Rongcheng government, officially launching the “Rongcheng Happy Valley” cultural tourism project, with investments exceeding ten billion!
Zhao Dong lost. Xie Qian won.
