WBSGVS Chapter 227 V1

Normally, unless a show had investment from a major streaming platform, it would go on the market after post-production finished and wait for buyers.

“Feng Sha” was backed by the original creator and He Tianzhuo’s production company, but in reality, it was solely funded by the two of them. After He Tianzhuo got kicked out, the largest investor became Qingli—so she had full rights to sell it directly.

Feng Sha still held strong appeal. During filming, people had already reached out to express interest. But the prices they offered didn’t satisfy Qingli. She didn’t want He Tianzhuo to profit off of it, but she also couldn’t let the original creator’s hard work be sold cheap.

Not to mention—she had added value to it herself.

So, she kept holding off.

Of course, streaming platforms weren’t fools with money to burn. Su Qingli had a strong reputation as a screenwriter, but her name as a director didn’t carry the same weight. That made platforms hesitate.

And that hesitation dragged on… until now.

With all the post-production and even the music fully completed—ready for release—Qingli finally posted a three-minute trailer through the official Weibo account.

By then, it had been six months since the last trailer, and over three months since they posted anything, back when filming wrapped. Netizens, with their famously short memories, had practically forgotten about Feng Sha.

So when this trailer suddenly dropped…

Everyone following the official account was momentarily confused:
Wait… I’m still following this show?

Unlike the fanfare from the early days, Feng Sha’s Weibo had become extremely low-profile, mostly because the Royal Power team had stopped trying to undermine them, so there was no longer a need for hype.

Now, with this sudden reappearance, everyone instinctively clicked in. And once they watched—gasp after gasp, screams of excitement flooded the comments:

“AAAAHHH! This is amazing! It looks even better than before—when is it airing?!”
“Is it scheduled yet? Has the air date been set??”
“Ning Xi is so adorable! She’s stunning as the female lead!”
“When is it airing? I can’t wait any longer!”
“She’s so badass! I love powerful female leads!!”
“Has it been scheduled? Can anyone in the know tell us?!”

The passionate discussion, combined with Ning Xi trending, created a huge surge in traffic. Within an hour, the trailer had gone viral—marked with the word “爆” (explosive). The hype was off the charts.

It even trended on the hot search with the topic:
“Has Feng Sha been scheduled?”

Clicking on it revealed that a blogger had casually asked the question, and desperate fans—hooked by the trailer—had boosted it onto the trending list.

Had it been scheduled?

Nope.

Unlike Royal Power, which had the bonus heat of dating rumors between its male and female leads, Feng Sha had been completely quiet for months. With the past controversy of cast changes, most people had assumed it was a dead project.

But one trailer changed everything.

Two hours later, multiple platforms came calling. The original offer of 3 million yuan per episode quickly jumped to 5 million and kept rising.

Three days later, the show was sold to a platform for 6 million yuan per episode, totaling 300 million yuan for exclusive streaming rights.

On top of that, the platform promised top-tier promotional placement during release.

Contracts were signed, air dates were discussed, cast members were lined up for promotions—everything was falling into place.

But with the Chinese New Year approaching, everything had to be postponed.

Because of her relationship with He Tianzhuo, Qingli had no desire to return to her original home. The Su family was a mess, too—going back would only make her miserable. So she took her earnings and went traveling instead, using the time to work on a new script.

Her next goal was to direct a film.

He Tianzhuo had directed a few himself, but not many. The original creator’s writing style didn’t translate well to movies—she preferred weaving detailed, interconnected storylines. Her dramas were the kind that people could still talk about a year or two later, discovering new layers on rewatch.

Movies, with their limited runtime, couldn’t fully showcase that kind of depth. As a result, she and He Tianzhuo only had two moderately successful films between them.

On New Year’s Eve, He Tianzhuo finally called her.

Qingli declined the call.

He called again, and she declined. After the third time, he lost his patience and sent a message on WeChat:

“Are you done being dramatic? Are you not coming back for New Year’s?”

Qingli responded with a single screenshot.

It was an image of gossip headlines showing Zhao Rongrong entering the home she used to share with He Tianzhuo.

That had been photographed a while back, and He Tianzhuo had immediately issued a clarification. He’d claimed that Zhao Muyun was too busy, so he had asked his aunt to deliver some things. He even provided evidence that Zhao Rongrong was only in the building for less than an hour. The incident had blown over quickly.

But seeing that screenshot again made He Tianzhuo’s anger evaporate on the spot. Even though he knew nothing had happened between him and Zhao Rongrong, he still felt a twinge of guilt and quickly softened his tone:

“It was seriously a misunderstanding. I swear I didn’t cheat!”

Qingli didn’t respond.

Realizing her attitude had shifted, He Tianzhuo gave up with a frustrated sigh and messaged Zhao Muyun:

“Next time, don’t have your aunt deliver things anymore.”

From He Tianzhuo’s reaction, Qingli could tell he wasn’t going to agree to a divorce that easily.

She hadn’t pushed far enough to hit his breaking point—if she filed now, it would just devolve into a public blame game.

And she didn’t want to waste her energy fighting him, so she chose not to bring it up at all.

Whether they divorced or not didn’t matter to her right now—this was the time to focus on building her career.

After the holiday, the promotional phase began, starting with the press conference.