Chapter Seventy: Entangled and Unentangled Interests

The press conference did not last long; it ended in less than an hour. After all, there wasn't much to say about the matter—reporters kept circling around the same few questions. In the end, Gu Zhi didn't say anything overtly confrontational. After all, offending an unknown figure like Chen Guo didn't matter; since Chen had started the insults, Gu Zhi had every reason to respond as he did. But if he were to offend the entire Hong Kong and Taiwan film industry, he wouldn't even need certain factions to come after him—the fans of Hong Kong and Taiwan celebrities in the mainland alone would verbally destroy him.

Right now, everyone was still clinging to the dream of cross-strait friendship, repeating slogans like "the most beautiful scenery in Taiwan is its people." The tolerance for Hong Kong and Taiwan celebrities was far greater than for those from the mainland. Throughout the press conference, apart from addressing the main issue, Gu Zhi made it a point to mention "My Sassy Girl" several times, seizing every opportunity to promote it whenever there was a connection.

Some media outlets, who had a favorable view of Gu Zhi, played along and asked numerous questions about his new film. Secretly, Gu Zhi gave them a mental thumbs-up, making a note to give these outlets more attention in future interviews.

At the close of the event, he once again made a heartfelt appeal, urging everyone to support his new movie, turning the press conference into a veritable promotional event for the film.

The next day, Gu Zhi appeared once more atop the entertainment headlines, not just in the mainland, but also gracing the covers of Hong Kong and Taiwan gossip magazines, all featuring his portrait. The headlines were sensational, to say the least. For example, the cover of a well-known Hong Kong tabloid Weekly Journal screamed: "Underage Mainland Boy vs. Famous Hong Kong Director: Profane Outburst at the Press Conference!"

The magazine even magnified the words "Profane Outburst" and highlighted them in a bright yellow, as if afraid that the people of Hong Kong might miss it.

As the saying goes, "Cross-strait family," so if the tabloids across the sea are like this, the mainland is certainly no better. News headlines all featured words like "blacklist" or "expose," with exaggeration and shock tactics now standard fare in entertainment journalism.

Luckily, the mainland's infamous "UC Shocking Department" hadn't yet risen to prominence, otherwise the headline would surely have been: "Shocking! Why Was Student Gu So Grief-stricken, Tearfully Denouncing: 'Never to Meet Again'? Click for the Full Story, Pictures Included!"

The Golden Horse Awards scandal, once it fermented, quickly spread through the film circles on both sides of the strait. Reporters scrambled not only to interview Gu Zhi but also any celebrity even remotely connected to him. Rising stars like Tang Wei, Liu Ye, and Gao Yuanyuan, whom Gu Zhi had helped bring to prominence, became prime targets.

However, Gu Zhi had already warned them not to get involved, and certainly not to stand up for him publicly, so as not to attract trouble. These stars tacitly complied, refusing to comment and feigning ignorance when asked.

This approach had become a guiding principle for many mainland and Hong Kong-Taiwan celebrities: if it’s not my business, don’t ask me about it. After all, this was a personal feud between Chen Guo and Gu Zhi; everyone else was just a spectator. In the Chinese entertainment industry, voicing an opinion could offend either side, so it was best to remain silent.

Gu Zhi's proven box office success was clear for all to see. Most celebrities, before making any statement, would think carefully: if his new film becomes another blockbuster, even industry giants would want to work with him in the future.

If they were to offend him now over a trivial matter, they might lose out on future collaborations—and the potential earnings that came with them.

As for Chen Guo, so what if he was from Hong Kong? He was an arthouse director, unable to generate profits for Hong Kong stars. In the end, it all came down to profit. Hong Kong and mainland celebrities were all in it for the money; otherwise, there wouldn't have been a wave of Hong Kong actors signing with Huayi in the mainland in recent years.

Any star hoping to make it in the mainland, even if they disliked Gu Zhi, would only vent in private to close friends, never daring to say anything publicly.

Of course, that only applied to those with sense. There were always some who lacked it—those who loved to curry favor with foreigners or serve as pawns for anti-China forces, eager to make a spectacle of themselves. It was impossible for such people not to attack Gu Zhi.

To them, money meant nothing; nothing was more important than demonstrating loyalty to foreign powers.

But in the end, both types were the same: some played both sides, making money in the mainland and criticizing it at home; others were simply brainwashed fools, uninterested in profit, relying on their small circle of fans and handouts from foreign sponsors.

Whatever their opinions, Gu Zhi had already decided: if he could avoid using Hong Kong-Taiwan actors, he would. A scandal involving someone with a "yellow skin, white heart" would be bad for everyone.

From the start of the incident, there was one person whose actions truly surprised Gu Zhi: Feng Xiaogang actually stood up for him, making a public statement in support.

"To go or not to go is a personal choice. Little Brother Gu is busy with his new film; it's understandable that he can't make it. Is there a law that says if you're invited to the Golden Horse Awards, you must attend?"

Feng Xiaogang’s support was a delightful surprise. As soon as Gu Zhi saw the news, he called to express his gratitude, promising to write a good script for him in the future.

Given Director Feng’s standing in the mainland film industry, his support might not have been a lifeline in a snowstorm, but it was at least a timely helping hand. Though Gu Zhi disliked Feng’s penchant for hype and outbursts, he was a man who repaid kindness. He remembered Confucius’s words well: repay virtue with virtue, repay grievance with honesty.

Feng Xiaogang, after all, was no pushover. Gu Zhi recalled that in his previous life, one year Feng’s wife, Xu Fan, was nominated for Best Actress at the Golden Horse but lost to Lü Liping. Feng publicly blasted the awards. Later, when he won Best Actor at the Golden Horse for his performance in "Mr. Six," he didn't even attend, instead holding a concert in Beijing, giving the Golden Horse Awards no face whatsoever.

He truly earned his nickname "Little Cannon."

In contrast to the silence of most celebrities, the internet was in chaos. Netizens, as bystanders with no vested interest, spoke purely according to personal preference, and the number of people attacking Gu Zhi was considerable. When Gu Zhi opened the forums, at least half the posts he saw were scolding him, vulgarities commonplace.

"I always knew Gu Zhi was an uncultured idiot. Dropped out of high school—what does he know about propriety? I support Hong Kong banning him!"

"Rude, uncivilized, never even apologized and still so arrogant. He's disgraced all of us mainlanders."

"You don’t even have to read his books to know what kind of scum he is. I’ve always disliked him—finally, he’s getting roasted! Haha, love it!"

"MDZZ"

Many self-loathing internet trolls are always like this. No matter what happens, their first thought is: "It must be the Chinese who messed up—quick, apologize!" They never care about the facts; as long as the other side isn’t from the mainland, then they must be right.

This was the familiar routine of insults—a script Gu Zhi had read for over a decade. He was long past caring; it was impossible for such things to affect him now.

He simply ignored the abuse. Besides, he had fans, and among them, there were trolls, too.

"I support Student Gu—well said! That garbage Hong Kong director dares insult our mainland films. The government should ban him!"

"Those trash-talking above have lost their minds. Someone slaps you, and instead of fighting back, you offer the other cheek? Spineless!"

"Ah! Student Gu looks so handsome when he’s angry! Anyone who insults him—I hope their whole family dies!!"

When he saw such fans, Gu Zhi could only shake his head, sighing with equal parts amusement and exasperation. Such extreme words only made him more of a target for haters...

And so, the two camps waged a hundred-round war of words online, insults flying back and forth with abandon.

After a brief glance, Gu Zhi put it all aside and focused on post-production for the film. He no longer bothered with Chen Guo’s responses, unwilling to get embroiled in a war of words across the ether.

He accepted every media interview but would only answer questions related to "My Sassy Girl," refusing to comment on anything to do with Chen Guo.