Lin Wan’er’s scheme left An Chengxi in awe, as if struck by divine inspiration.
She planned to write their experiences into a script and turn it into short dramas, even giving Wu Feiyan an ending where she crumbled to dust after five hundred years, all to sow discord between the Wu family and Wu Feiyan, and shatter their morale; this alone was already a stroke of genius.
What was even more ingenious was that she intended to make it a reward-based system, rather than an investment one.
This was simply the best method for risk isolation.
If it were investment-based filming, no matter how many shell companies were used for disguise, the funding trail would ultimately be impossible to conceal completely.
Who produced this drama, and who paid the producers, all of that would be hard to hide one hundred percent.
Even if the money could be hidden, how the person was found and contacted would leave vulnerabilities.
However, Lin Wan’er directly bypassed the investment phase; she merely offered an extraordinarily high bitcoin reward from afar, with the dark web as guarantor.
The dark web’s hefty bounty would naturally lead short drama practitioners to spread it themselves, even drawing in outsiders for the sake of money.
And the lavish rewards would spur those short drama creators to fund and produce it themselves, with no need for any contact with Lin Wan’er throughout.
This was somewhat like the organisers of a marathon.
They only needed to offer sufficiently high winning prizes; they did not need to pay the marathon participants a single penny in fees. Marathon athletes and enthusiasts from around the world would flock in, bearing their own travel and accommodation costs; not only that, some popular events even required entry fees, and for the hottest ones, a lottery was needed just to qualify, otherwise even money could not buy a spot.
In this way, Lin Wan’er did not need to hand money directly to these production teams; the funding trail became utterly untraceable.
Bitcoin itself was a cryptocurrency, its transactions anonymous; tracing it back to Lin Wan’er personally was a possibility of zero.
Even if Wu Feiyan knew the bitcoins came from Lin Wan’er, she would have no way to trace the source.
And the dark web itself was an untraceable grey zone; Lin Wan’er posting tasks there meant Wu Feiyan could not track her either.
Thus, Lin Wan’er gained double-layered security from the dark web and cryptocurrency.
She herself needed to expose no clues; she only had to post the task, and it would attract global short drama creators to boot up their cameras at their own expense for the bounty of hundreds of bitcoins.
At that point, their story might go live in hundreds of different languages across various regions worldwide, delivering a three hundred and sixty degree, seamless information bombardment to Wu Feiyan and the Wu family.
What was even more brilliant was that Lin Wan’er would post her own script on the dark web; Wu Feiyan would know at a glance that it was written by her, yet be utterly unable to locate her, reduced to impotent fury.
And for Lin Wan’er, aside from providing the money and the story, she bore no risks whatsoever.
Not only that, with hundreds or thousands of teams worldwide producing this story, involving at least tens of thousands of actors, Wu Feiyan would have no chance to vent her rage on anyone; for if she targeted those actors, it would only draw unnecessary attention. Audiences would originally see it as a fictional tale, but if participants started dying mysteriously, it might spark suspicions of some connection.
At this moment, An Chengxi could not help but sigh to Lin Wan’er: “This junior has schemed in the shadows for twenty years, and the cumulative damage inflicted on the Po Qing Society might not even match what senior’s short drama plan could achieve. If there is anything senior needs this junior’s help with, I will go all out!”
