Chapter 7 – The Viral Clip
The next morning, before the sun had even fully crested the mountain, the production crew, sensing a ratings goldmine, uploaded the dramatic rescue footage.
The clip, shot on multiple drones and handheld cameras, was a cinematic masterpiece of mud, lightning, and sheer terror, culminating in the heroic moment where a desperate Xiao Xi lunged to save a slipping figure.
Within hours, Xiao Xi's name was trending for the first time in years. Not for an insult, a scandal, or a drunken mishap, but for an act of genuine bravery.
[#XiaoXiSavesContestant#] The sheer gravity of her heroic act made the hashtag rocket to the top.
[#TheFallenAngelReturns#] A more poetic, aspirational hashtag quickly followed.
Public opinion, the fickle god that determined her fate, flipped almost overnight. The raw, unfiltered footage of her risking her life was irrefutable. It cut through the manufactured cynicism that had defined her former reputation.
Comments flooded online forums and social media:
"Whoa, didn't expect her to be brave! I thought she was all spoiled and selfish."
"She looks different—more mature somehow.
That intensity in her eyes is new."
"Maybe we judged her too soon.
You can't fake that kind of panic and dedication."
Her phone, a cheap model that had been silent for months, buzzed nonstop with notifications—a dizzying cascade of likes, shares, and new followers.
The System responded with a triumphant fanfare inside her head:
[System Update: Current Luck: 500.]
The overnight change in public perception delivered a huge payout.
[New Mission unlocked – 'Gain 10,000 Followers.' Reward: 300 Luck Points.]
Xiao Xi grinned, wiping the last vestiges of mud from her face. "Finally, a mission I can handle.
" The game had opened up.
The path to Luck was clear: public favor translated directly into survival points.
She needed to nurture this fragile, newfound goodwill and convert clicks into currency.
Meanwhile, far away from the chaotic mountain set, in the pristine, climate-controlled comfort of a luxurious, temporary trailer provided by the production company (due to his mysterious "investor status"), Gu Yanzhou was watching the same viral video.
He scrolled through the comments, ignoring the fawning praise directed at himself and focusing entirely on the reactions to Xiao Xi.
He paused the video on her face—mud-streaked, eyes wide with the adrenaline of pure survival, but unmistakably intelligent and confident.
"She is not what I remember from the news reports five years ago," he murmured, his thumb rubbing thoughtfully over the screen. The original reports had painted the actress Xiao Xi as nothing more than a lazy, self-obsessed airhead.
The woman on the screen was anything but.
She possessed an inner calm, a strategic awareness that was rare even among his most senior executives.
His assistant, Lin Bo, who had been quietly managing an emergency financial audit from the corner, raised a bewildered eyebrow.
"President Gu, with all respect, you're supposed to be focusing on the Bright Star Media investment meeting in thirty minutes. It's critical."
Gu Yanzhou's gaze lingered on the screen, a powerful, calculating focus that brooked no argument. He saw more than a rescue; he saw potential, a disruption of the known order. "Postpone it indefinitely. Tell them I have a conflicting priority. I have a new project in mind."
Lin Bo gulped, recognizing the tone of unyielding decree. "Sir? What kind of project?"
Gu Yanzhou finally looked up, a cold, strategic glint in his eyes.
"A variable.
A piece that doesn't belong on the board.
Lin Bo, find out everything you can about the actress Xiao Xi.
Her debts, her contracts, her history. Everything.
" He leaned back, his mind already formulating a new, complex corporate strategy that centered entirely around a washed-up actress and a viral video.
The investment meeting could wait; this woman was the key to understanding the timeline's divergence.