WBSGVS Chapter 233 V2

Qingli walked unhurriedly. There was still a bit of a line at the divorce registration counter. She tugged down her mask slightly, arms folded, her whole demeanor radiating disdain.

The more He Tianzhuo looked at her, the drier his throat felt. Then, thinking of all the scandal she’d stirred up online—her statements to the media—he finally couldn’t help himself:

“You should always leave some room to turn back. What if someday you’re in trouble, Su Qingli? Don’t think your reputation will hold if people find out we agreed not to have kids when we married, and now you’re suddenly changing your mind!”

Qingli stopped and turned to look at him.

His hair stood on end. Instinctively, he went on high alert and stopped in his tracks too.

She gave a little smile. He couldn’t see her lips through the mask, but he could see the corners of her eyes lifting ever so slightly, mocking and amused.

Then her cool, measured voice rang through the hall:

“And what about your vow? Didn’t you swear you’d stay away from other women after we got married? What happened to that? You get to break your promise, but I’m not allowed to change my mind about wanting a child?”

He Tianzhuo’s face burned with embarrassment. “I told you, those were just flings! Why are you still harping on that?”

Qingli snorted. “Fine. Let’s not get divorced. I’ll hook up with a new guy every day, hop on a different lap every night—just harmless flings, right? You good with that?”

His face went dark, and he huffed, glaring at her.

Qingli’s smile faded. Her gaze sharpened as she snapped, “If you’re not okay with it, then shut the hell up and get in line for the damn divorce.”

He Tianzhuo glared daggers at her, but she had already turned and walked off. All he could see now was her retreating.

When it was finally their turn, they were recognized as they were getting their divorce certificates.

They weren’t celebrities, so there wasn’t a crowd swarming them, but several young women still ran over to ask Qingli for her autograph. She was the popular screenwriter Liuli, author of many bestsellers with a strong fan base.

After signing, the girls happily returned to their spots in line, excitedly whispering among themselves.

“Liuli’s getting divorced—finally! I’ve been worried that Fengsha’s success would benefit that cheating scumbag. I didn’t think it would come to this. So satisfying!”

“That guy next to her, is that Director He everyone’s been talking about? He looks ancient! Honestly, he looks old enough to be her grandpa. How did Liuli ever marry him? I guess even the most talented women have moments of poor judgment… what a shame.”

“Girls are prone to being blinded by love.”

“I heard Director He’s new show flopped. Everyone online’s saying that without Liuli, he’s nothing.”

“Exactly! I heard that all his ‘Best Director’ nominations came from shows written by her. And now he’s throwing away a wife who built his career? That just proves men only care about what’s ‘fresh’—whether it’s fresh flowers or fresh garbage.”

The civil affairs bureau was a large open space, and voices carried easily. Even though they were speaking quietly, He Tianzhuo, who had just picked up his divorce certificate and was about to leave, heard everything.

His face darkened as he turned and glared at them.

The girls looked a little awkward—he was still a famous director, and talking trash right in front of him probably wasn’t the most polite move.

But one bold girl glared right back, puffing up her cheeks with defiance. “What are you staring at? Never seen a beautiful woman before, old man?!”

He Tianzhuo: “…”

With a cold expression, he said nothing and quickly stormed out.

Once they were in the car, He Tianzhuo looked at his assistant suspiciously and asked, “Are people saying that online?”

Ever since he smashed his phone last time, he deleted his Weibo and hasn’t touched social media since. He avoided short-video apps too, afraid he’d see more gossip about Su Qingli and upset himself further.

Naturally, he had no idea people were saying this kind of stuff about him.

It had already been ridiculous when people claimed Qingli was the real mastermind behind his projects. But now? They were saying even worse things.

The assistant hesitated, then mumbled, “It’s… not that widespread…”

“So it is out there?!” He Tianzhuo’s face paled with frustration.

As a man full of pride, he had already suffered countless blows to his ego. He didn’t even feel like going out anymore. And now this?

But come on, Fengsha only blew up because of the script!

He admitted Qingli could write a great script, but that didn’t mean her directing skills were better than his!

He Tianzhuo stewed in his frustration for a while, then had a thought. “Check what Su Qingli’s doing now—has she started any new projects?”

“Okay.” The assistant nodded and pulled out his phone to start searching.

Meanwhile, He Tianzhuo also started calling around to industry friends to gather intel.

Soon, he found out: Qingli had just registered a film project and was currently looking for a female lead. But so far, investor interest was low.

Apparently, it was a modern romance—an oversaturated genre that hadn’t performed well in recent years. Plus, Qingli was a first-time film director. She’d only directed TV shows before, and many in the industry (He Tianzhuo included) believed Fengsha only succeeded because of the script’s strength.

If she stuck to TV dramas, people might still trust her because of her connections. But now she wanted to jump straight to movies? That was like learning to crawl and trying to sprint—unrealistic.

Investors might have money, but they weren’t stupid. So far, no one had funded the project.

A film, huh…

He Tianzhuo’s expression shifted slightly as he remembered something—he’d written a movie script himself a while back. It had been delayed for various reasons.

It was a crime thriller, his specialty.

The biggest hit he’d had with Qingli was also in that genre. After it blew up, tons of crime scripts came his way—but if Qingli didn’t write them, he wasn’t interested. He had been tinkering with his own for a long time, aiming to direct it himself.

Now, the timing felt perfect.

He refused to believe that if he brought out his strongest genre, he’d still lose to Qingli. As a man, he was more logical, better suited to these kinds of stories. Fengsha’s emotional drama had been heavily criticized. So fine—no romance this time!

With this in mind, He Tianzhuo immediately got to work.

Clearly, Qingli was aiming for a summer release next year. He couldn’t lag behind.

He told his assistant, “Get me all our in-house screenwriters who specialize in crime stories. Also—”

—

Within just a week, news that He Tianzhuo was about to start filming a crime thriller spread throughout the industry.

While Royal Power didn’t explode in popularity, it didn’t flop either—investors still profited. So when word got out, many film investors jumped on the opportunity.

Soon, he secured significant funding. With his determination to redeem himself, the projected investment soared to 200 million yuan. He planned to invite a star-studded cast—just their collective fame alone would generate massive buzz, even before filming began. As long as the movie met basic quality standards, it could easily crush the kind of story Qingli was working on.

The industry buzzed. Many people received personal invites from He Tianzhuo, with generous pay offers. A wave of excitement spread through the circle.

When the news reached Qingli, Ye Qiong happened to be at her place, mooching a meal. She was stunned. “Wait, he wrote a script?”

Qingli thought for a moment. “Yeah, he did. He even asked me a few questions back then. It was only a rough draft, though. If he’s filming it now, he must’ve finished revising it.”

Ye Qiong rolled her eyes. “So he did ask for your input. I thought he did it all by himself. Ugh, what a joke! Now all the marketing accounts are saying investors are flooding to him, while you’re just over here… ignored! I’m so mad. Even I had investors calling me, asking for your contact info to invest!”

Qingli remained calm. “It’s fine. Having too many investors isn’t always a good thing anyway. And besides—given He Tianzhuo’s health, there’s no guarantee he’ll make it through production.”

She wasn’t trying to jinx him, but on the day they got their divorce certificate, she’d noticed something off about his complexion.