After Binding the Face-Slapping System, I Rose to Fame [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 4

After an arduous period where one side tried desperately to prove she was the real Chu Jinzhi, while the other played a high-stakes game of “Spot the Difference” using metaphorical microscopes to prove the “National Red Rose” had been hacked, an exhausted Chu Jinzhi finally saw the dawn of victory.

The box office numbers for Gunfire were in: 180 million on Day 1, 320 million on Day 2, 410 million on Day 3.

For an anti-Japanese war film led by a solo female protagonist to pull these numbers during the Labor Day holiday was beyond everyone’s expectations. Suddenly, countless industry analysts were dissecting why this film was leading the pack, having outpaced the second-place holiday film by over a billion yuan in just three days.

“The explosive potential of the follow-up is clear; we haven’t even hit the daily peak yet.”

“This is a unique achievement in the history of resistance cinema for a female-led production.”

“Beyond the solid foundation of the director, writers, and cast, the meteoric rise of Gunfire is also seasoned with several ‘coincidences.’ Today, we have famous filmmaker Mr. Chao here to discuss.”

Wherever there is traffic, there are marketing accounts.

Unlike the serious industry critics, these marketing accounts knew exactly how to grab eyeballs. Many of them brought up the “Great Debate” between a certain washed-up starlet and her die-hard anti-fan brigade. This brought Chu

Jinzhi a steady stream of “Walking Point Reserves.”

Having behaved herself for three full days, Chu Jinzhi refreshed her Weibo, watching the number of onlookers grow. She asked the System thoughtfully, “Tong-zi, can you guarantee that the career resources exchanged from the store won’t be forcibly cut off by outside forces, right?”

The Face-Slapping System puffed out its chest (metaphorically) and raised its voice: [Of course! System-grade products are flawless!]

Chu Jinzhi smiled with relief. “Excellent. Keep it up. Oh, and Tong-zi? Crack my Weibo password again.”

System: [“?”] Should I reiterate for the 101st time that I am a System, not a personal assistant?

Chu Jinzhi: “Hey, let me tell you, Tong-zi, actually, moving back home to herd cattle—”

System: [Copy that, Host. No problem, Host. :)]

Fine. It was used to it by now. Though it couldn’t help but develop a shred of non-systemic curiosity: Exactly how many cows are waiting back in this woman’s hometown?

Young Master Wang, a notorious bully in the entertainment industry, kept a permanent retinue of lackeys. Back then, he had tried to “unspoken-rule” the National Red Rose who had skyrocketed to fame with her god-tier visuals. He ended up getting slapped so hard he nearly did a somersault. It was the most humiliating Waterloo of his playboy career.

Consequently, Chu Jinzhi had been “upgraded” to Young Master Wang’s “Supreme Package”: a total industry blacklist plus a professional bot army on a yearly retainer, monitoring her 24/7.

Zhang Jun was the head of that bot army. Lately, Chu Jinzhi who had been dormant for ages had suddenly resurfaced, working Zhang Jun and his team to the bone. Who doesn’t love getting paid to do nothing? They had grown comfortable with the easy money, so her sudden activity was quite annoying. They, too, had genuinely suspected she’d been hacked.

On this day, after three days of silence, Chu Jinzhi suddenly posted a bizarre animated GIF.

Ordinary netizens might have been confused, wondering why this “drama queen” had stopped her snide remarks about Lin Shuyu’s movie. (Indeed, thanks to Chu Jinzhi’s antics, many casual “melon-eaters” who didn’t usually spend money on entertainment now knew exactly who Lin Shuyu was and had heard of Gunfire.)

However, the moment Zhang Jun and his team saw the GIF, one collective thought flashed through their minds: This woman is a beast.

The GIF appeared to be a snippet of surveillance footage. A skinny young man was waving his arms and shouting arrogantly. The next second, a slender woman with her back to the camera swung her hand and slapped him so hard he flew back into his chair, flipping it over.

Because it was a GIF, the motion was fast and a bit blurry, but the gist was clear. Especially with the soul-piercing caption added to the side: “Ge-ge, there was a mosquito on your face.”

Uninformed netizens just laughed their heads off. The bot army stayed silent. Because the man getting slapped was their “Big Spender” boss, Young Master Wang.

It had been nearly two years. Young Master Wang’s rotating door of girlfriends had already cycled through an entire reinforced platoon. Theoretically, if she had just stayed quiet, the whole thing might have blown over. But this woman, just as Wang’s annual retainer was about to expire, she pulled this stunt. It was the digital equivalent of poking a tiger in the backside with a hot poker.

Bot A asked Zhang Jun hesitantly, “Boss, what do we do?”

Zhang Jun rubbed his face and turned to call Young Master Wang. “What else? It’s time to make the big bucks, boys!”

That night, half the “knights” of the mercenary bot world mobilized with their keyboards.

That night, the top ten spots on the trending list were occupied by someone who didn’t pay a single cent for the privilege.

That night, the melon-eating masses were overwhelmed by a landslide of real tea, fake tea, and plastic tea, unsure where to turn.

That night, Sister Lin was jolted awake by a screaming phone call from the CEO. Disheveled and still in her pajamas, she grabbed a kitchen cleaver and walked out her front door, finally embarking on a path of no return.

And that night, Chu Jinzhi, having slipped out of her house early checked into a small hotel and slept like a baby.

Face-Slapping System: [“?”] Is this new host really not going to get murdered? Should I start drafting the debriefing report and my self-reflection letter now just in case?

The next morning, before even opening her eyes, Chu Jinzhi poked the System. “Tong-zi, quick, calculate how much is in the Face-Slapping point pool.”

Face-slapping was a marathon, not a sprint.

For instance, when the first-day box office for Gunfire came out, the netizens and anti-fans were already mocking Chu Jinzhi for being humiliated by her own “flop” prediction. By the second day, that crowd was joined by the movie’s new fans and Lin Shuyu’s supporters.

The more successful the movie became, the more “Face-Slapped Value” Chu Jinzhi received. The System had originally thought this was a successful run that would peak at the end of the movie’s theatrical release.

It never expected its host to be this “capable.” To go and poke the bear so hard that she provoked a world-ending manhunt.

When a bot army goes after a celebrity, they usually have two moves:

1. Making up rumors out of thin air.

2. Deliberately misinterpreting half-truths.

Since Chu Jinzhi had provided them with the “authentic black material” of her mocking a hit movie only to be proven wrong, they weren’t about to let it go. They milked it for all it was worth, jumping around the internet trying to incite the Gunfire producers, the cast, and the fans into a frenzy of hatred against Chu Jinzhi’s “clout-chasing” behavior.

Looking at the backend data, which had soared from the depths of the Mariana Trench to the peak of Mount Everest overnight, the System was numb: [Calculated at a 1000:1 ratio, you have currently earned 2,375 points.]

“Only 2.3 million hits?” Chu Jinzhi frowned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. She fumbled around the blankets for her phone. “This generation of bots is really lacking.”

The System couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for the bot army. After all, they had worked so hard!

[The data only covers up until midnight last night. Settlements are made once every 24 hours. Multiple intense emotional reactions from the same person toward the same event only count as one instance. Furthermore, the bots themselves don’t count, they have no emotional fluctuations.]

Chu Jinzhi gave a click of her tongue. Failing to find her phone, she couldn’t be bothered to look further. She burrowed back into her blanket, narrowed her eyes, and mumbled for the System to order takeout. “I want deep-fried dough sticks from ‘You-tiao King.’ Two sticks, with a side of soy milk.”

The dough sticks from that place were exceptionally crispy and fragrant, unlike the soft, spongy ones found elsewhere. Chu Jinzhi had fallen in love at first bite; even if she planned on drifting back to sleep, she insisted on finishing that specific breakfast first.

Over the next few days, Chu Jinzhi was as quiet as a church mouse. She stayed holed up in her small hotel room, playing a new game until she was bored and binge-watching a new “Oppa” drama until she felt like gagging. Finally, the day arrived for the System to settle her points.

System: [Total points: 8,731 have been credited. The point pool for this “Face-Slapping” task is now closed. Congratulations, Host. May you continue to reach new heights.]

The moment she got her points, Chu Jinzhi opened the Store. She gave a small smile, though she felt a trace of regret. “I guess I won’t be able to pull a stunt like that again for a while. But I’ll keep working hard!”

Well, a person shouldn’t live without dreams.

She had the System pull up the shopping list she’d asked it to keep track of. Despite holding a “fortune” in points, she didn’t act like a reckless big-spender. Instead, she meticulously scrutinized the items she had added to her cart.

The Point Store Catalog

• Basic Riding Proficiency: 300 pts (Upgradable. Bundle price for Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced: 2,000 pts)

• Spirit Pill (Cure for All-Nighters): 100 pts/pill

• Audition Opportunity: 800 pts/instance

• Film/TV Resources: 1,500 pts/instance

• “Not Hungry” Pill: 50 pts/pill

• “One Black Material a Day” (Targeted): 30 pts/instance (1% discount for monthly subscriptions)

• Interstellar Acting Course: 500 pts/hour (Free access to Holographic Classroom)

• Role Immersion Dream Experience: 1,000 pts/instance

• Body Lightening Pill (Trial): 100 pts/1 hour

• Body Lightening Pill (Permanent): 8,000 pts/pill

Chu Jinzhi: “?”

The excitement of just receiving her points began to evaporate.

“Forget it. Let’s start with a monthly subscription for ‘Brother Wang.’ By the way, are there rules on the severity of the ‘black material’? If I spend 30 points and just get a photo of him tripping and looking stupid, wouldn’t that be a total rip-off?”

The System clarified that the severity was randomized: [However, there are ‘surprises’ for 10-pull streaks, and the surprises are doubled for monthly subscriptions.]

Chu Jinzhi: “?”

Good grief, this thing is surprisingly sophisticated.

“Are there no sales or promotions for the other items?” she asked curiously.

The System explained dutifully: [Every time you complete ten “Face-Slapping” tasks, a random discounted item will appear. The discount rate is also randomized.]

Fine. At least there was something to look forward to.

Without further hesitation, Chu Jinzhi dropped a massive 1,500 points to purchase a guest slot on the variety show Wilderness Survival. She was genuinely curious about how the System would secure this resource for her.

She then proceeded to witness exactly how a Top Tier star completes a “career-crash” in a single day.

One of the original male leads for Celebrity Wilderness Survival, the designated “visual” of the group was suddenly exposed for having a secret marriage, an affair, and sleeping with fans. His legal wife, in a fit of rage, reported him for tax evasion and drug use. The star then went on a live stream, weeping and claiming his wife was having an affair with his manager, which had made his life so miserable he “made a mistake.”

The manager then logically appeared outside a local police station, live-streaming to the entire internet as he submitted evidence of the star’s various crimes.

The trajectory of the scandal left the nation stunned. With things in such a mess, it was naturally impossible for him to participate in Sea Princess Audio-Visual Entertainment’s big flagship show.

And as luck would have it, Chu Jinzhi had just completed the glorious achievement of occupying ten spots on the trending list with her own notoriety. Even more conveniently, she had publicly dissed Lin Shuyu’s movie. This “face-slapping” saga was packaged by the bot army and several marketing accounts into a “Compilation of Real-Life Face-Slapping Tropes,” which rose to the top of the trends where it just happened to catch the producer’s eye.

Right now, Celebrity Wilderness Survival desperately needed a controversial figure to pivot the public discourse, someone controversial enough to draw eyes, but not so controversial that they crossed legal or moral red lines.

Thinking it would be perfect to set her up as a “foil” for Lin Shuyu, the producer chose Chu Jinzhi.

The process was complex, but the result was simple: three days later, Chu Jinzhi received an invite from the program team and swiftly signed the contract.

Chu Jinzhi: “…”

Though the coincidences were a bit much to stomach, they were quite logical if you thought about it.

Chu Jinzhi gave the System a big thumbs-up and sent a request straight from her soul: “Tong-zi, please, I am definitely sticking with you from now on!”