Jiang Yue pressed the answer button and brought the phone to his ear.
“Director Xu.”
From the other end of the line came Xu Pingqiu's hearty, robust laughter.
In the background, the faint sound of rapid keyboard typing and the quiet murmurs of staff members conversing could be heard.
Evidently, Director Xu was currently holed up in the post-production room.
“Jiang Yue, are you busy?”
“I just finished buying groceries and am about to cook,” Jiang Yue spoke the simple truth.
Xu Pingqiu paused for a moment on the other end, and then his laughter grew even louder.
“You kid, you really live a grounded life.
“After wrapping up a shoot, other actors can't wait to run from one promotional event to another just to keep their faces in the public eye, terrified the audience might forget them.
“But you, you just straight up vanish. Han Song was just complaining to me the other day, saying you're even better at slacking off than he is.”
Jiang Yue smiled and shifted the plastic bag to his left hand. “Director Xu, did you call me today because there's good news?”
“Excellent news!” There was a sense of relief and finality in Xu Pingqiu's voice, as if the dust had finally settled. “《The Grand Game》 has passed review.”
Jiang Yue's footsteps paused slightly. “So fast?”
This was indeed unexpected.
Generally speaking, for this kind of historical political drama, the subject matter was relatively sensitive.
Just sending it back and forth for review and making revisions could easily drag on for a year or two.
Some were even shelved for three or four years and never got broadcasted.
“The post-production editing went fast, and the submission for review was surprisingly smooth,” Xu Pingqiu said, his voice laced with an undeniable sense of pride. “The most crucial point is that the platform executives watched the internal screener.
“Several directors from the acquisition department gave the overall quality of our drama an exceptionally high evaluation!”
Jiang Yue listened quietly.
Xu Pingqiu paused for a moment, suppressing his excitement as he gathered his thoughts.
“They feel the pacing of this drama is tight, and the costumes, makeup, and props are solid.
“More importantly, the performances of the lead actors completely exceeded expectations!
“Because the overall quality is so outstanding, the platform immediately made the call to secure the exclusive online broadcasting rights, and they even gave us priority scheduling for the summer slot!”
The summer slot.
That was a battleground where major video platforms and satellite TV stations fought fiercely.
Dramas that could squeeze into this slot not only had to be of top-tier quality, but the platforms would also pour massive promotional resources into pushing them.
Jiang Yue understood the implications.
He offered his heartfelt congratulations. “Congratulations, Director Xu! Securing the summer slot proves that the quality of both the script and the final cut successfully withstood the platform's scrutiny.”
Xu Pingqiu was already long accustomed to his sharp insight. “Congratulations to you as well!
“I'm calling you now just to give you a heads-up,” Xu Pingqiu instructed. “The official full-scale promotional campaign and warm-up will likely start in May.
“Make sure to clear your schedule for June and July in advance.
“You'll probably need to travel for roadshows and promotional variety shows then.”
“No problem, I'll make sure to free up that time.”
Jiang Yue hung up the phone. Looking at the tomatoes in his plastic bag, he pulled one out, tossed it upward, and caught it steadily.
《The Grand Game》 had passed review and secured its release date.
This meant that he had less than three months left before he truly stepped into the public eye and faced the onslaught of tens of millions in traffic.
Carrying his groceries, he walked up the stairs toward his apartment at an unhurried pace.
He entered the apartment and changed his shoes.
Back in his apartment, Jiang Yue changed out of his sportswear.
After taking a quick shower, he put on some casual clothes.
He walked into the kitchen, deftly washing the vegetables and slicing the meat.
He turned on the stove, poured in the oil, and began stir-frying.
In less than twenty minutes, a plate of shredded pork with green peppers, a plate of tomato scrambled eggs, and a bowl of seaweed egg drop soup were served on the dining table.
After finishing two bowls of rice, a comforting warmth spread through his stomach.
Jiang Yue cleared the dishes and wiped his hands dry.
He walked over to the living room and sat down on the sofa.
Some time had already passed since his call with Xu Pingqiu.
《The Grand Game》's official Weibo account should have made its move by now.
He opened his phone and logged into Weibo, planning to check the official announcement and repost it as part of his promotional duties.
The moment he logged in, his phone vibrated continuously.
A relentless barrage of unread notifications caused the screen to lag momentarily.
His direct messages and mentions were completely maxed out, showing a bright red “999+”.
Jiang Yue raised an eyebrow slightly and opened the Weibo hot search list.
Sitting at the very top of the list at number one was: #TheGrandGameSummerRelease#.
With Xu Pingqiu's reputation paving the way, this was entirely expected.
Jiang Yue's gaze drifted downward and stopped at the fifteenth spot on the list.
This particular hashtag was quite simple: #WhoIsJiangYue#.
Next to the hashtag was a deep red “Hot” tag.
Amused, Jiang Yue clicked on the hashtag out of curiosity.
The whole thing had started two hours ago.
At exactly one in the afternoon, the official Weibo account of 《The Grand Game》 had formally released its first one-and-a-half-minute trailer.
At the same time, they released the official character posters for the core cast.
As an S-tier major drama adapted from a blockbuster political novel from ten years ago, the original work boasted an incredibly massive built-in fanbase.
Some of the settings and tropes might have seemed a bit dated by modern standards, but Xu Pingqiu's screenwriting team had communicated deeply with the original author and made bold, sensible adaptations.
As a result, the fans of the novel did not boycott the adaptation.
Moreover, Xu Pingqiu's name itself was a guarantee of quality.
The only thing the novel's fans had been worried about was the casting.
Especially for the character of Chu Yan.
In the original novel, the hostage prince Chu Yan endured humiliation and feigned incompetence in the early stages, only to emerge as a decisive, ruthless, and formidable powerhouse later on.
With his complex and highly compelling character design, he was the ultimate beloved character in the hearts of countless fans.
On the newly released official poster, Chu Yan was dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, his eyes cast down as he gazed at an unfinished game of chess.
Half of his face was shrouded in shadow, and his gaze was detached and cold.
Judging by the composition of the poster alone, the tension was incredibly palpable.
However, when the novel's fans zoomed in on the image and saw that the actor's name at the bottom was “Jiang Yue,” the comment section exploded.
The male lead was the talented veteran Zhao Songcheng, the second male lead was the veteran actor Li Changming, and the third male lead was the popular young actor Zhang Yu.
Even the supporting cast consisted entirely of well-known, familiar faces.
Yet, this incredibly eye-catching character from the novel had been assigned to someone virtually unheard of.
The fans' combative spirit was instantly ignited.
“Who is Jiang Yue? Is there even such a person in the domestic entertainment industry? What are his notable works?”
“Such an important role like Chu Yan was given to a newcomer? Has Xu Pingqiu finally bowed to corporate sponsors?”
“He's just got a pretty face. He's a rookie, right? Can he even handle Chu Yan's scenes? I hope he's not just another pretty face!”
“...”
The novel's fans had never lacked the energy to fight.
The disparity in fame, coupled with their protective bias toward the character, caused voices of doubt to surge uncontrollably.
Within a short half hour, the hashtag #WhoIsJiangYue# was forcefully pushed onto the trending topics.
Fortunately, because the director was Xu Pingqiu, most of the book fans maintained a basic level of rationality. They didn't resort to mindless insults, choosing instead to investigate and observe.
This state of affairs did not last long.
Once the hashtag's search volume surpassed three million, various curious netizens and the few active fans among Jiang Yue's hundreds of thousands of followers began to join the fray.
The first wave of support came from the drama fans of 《Manhunt》.
Several entertainment bloggers with millions of followers posted a nine-grid set of animated GIFs.
Their captions were direct: “Who says he isn't popular? You need to check out Shen Xu, the Refined Scoundrel who dominated the screens during the May Day holiday slot.”
In the GIFs, Jiang Yue wore gold-rimmed glasses with an eerie, tension-filled smile on his face.
The comment section below quickly built up into a towering thread.
“Holy crap! It's him!”
“Shen Xu was played by Jiang Yue? He's playing Chu Yan too?”
“Back then, there were so many short video clips of him circulating. I thought this guy was incredibly handsome!”
“So, this guy really isn't just a pretty face?”
Immediately after, the second wave of support—Han Song's fans—arrived.
They threw out the photo of Jiang Yue and Han Song taken at the Bund back in January.
“This is my Brother Song's officially recognized good buddy in the industry! With this kind of looks and screen presence, he definitely won't fall short in a historical costume, right?”
With two consecutive waves of powerful backing, the tide began to turn, successfully labeling Jiang Yue as an actor who possessed both talent and connections.
The original novel's fans had still been arguing that “a newcomer has no depth, hopefully he isn't another uneducated actor who is all looks and no brains.”
But once the third wave of people entered the arena, the discussion completely exploded.
Several Donghai University campus information accounts and student bloggers, using the Donghai University crest as their avatars, dropped into the discussion page and posed a soul-searching question:
“Isn't this the genius Jiang from our School of Computer Science?”
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