Chapter 6: Is a Defective Product Even Worth Comparing to Me?

The ribbon-cutting ceremony went smoothly, and next came the brand’s evening banquet.

Su Mu had attended quite a few such events over the past two years, but he usually left right after eating unless there was some pressing need for him to socialize in person. Only then would Qian Jida ask him to stay a bit longer.

He was in the middle of his meal when a group approached from across the room.

Aside from the ever-irritating NNQT agent, Ning Yuyan was among them, along with an unfamiliar man.

Each held a glass of red wine, faces adorned with polite smiles, exuding the air of social elites.

Qian Jida leaned in and whispered, “Stop eating. That's Liu Qiangxi, the brand director. Remember—hold your ground and don't show any weakness.”

Su Mu set down his plate at the words but said nothing. Showing weakness was not in his nature.

Especially with those effeminate types at the next table—these head-to-head confrontations were where Su Mu always held his own.

“Mr. Qian, Su Mu, thank you both for joining our brand event tonight,” Liu Qiangxi greeted them.

Qian Jida responded with a cordial smile, “Director Liu, you’re too kind. This is all part of our job—after all, Su Mu is your brand ambassador.”

“Indeed, Director Liu, you’re too gracious,” Su Mu echoed, raising his glass.

Liu Qiangxi looked at Su Mu. “I saw the trending headlines these past few days. Su Mu, your popularity is soaring. You performed impressively at the awards ceremony. We’re all eagerly looking forward to your standout performance in Director Zhang’s new series. If you can seize this opportunity to lay a solid foundation and showcase your acting skills, it will further prove our brand’s wisdom in choosing you as our ambassador. The future of our partnership could be limitless.”

There was no denying the finesse in Liu Qiangxi’s words. Veterans of the business world were indeed different—his seemingly casual remarks were laced with deeper meaning.

He didn’t rush to ask Qian Jida directly whether Su Mu had secured a role in Director Zhang’s upcoming series. Instead, he circled in through the topic of recent headlines, then skipped the question entirely, making a declarative statement: they all looked forward to Su Mu’s outstanding performance in the new series.

It was as if Su Mu’s participation was a foregone conclusion.

Moreover, if Su Mu performed well, it would not only validate the brand’s choice but also strengthen their partnership going forward.

The entire statement, on the surface, sounded harmless, but in reality, it was putting pressure on Su Mu.

In other words, the brand didn’t care about Su Mu’s process—they would only accept one outcome: Su Mu must be in the series.

And not just participate—he must excel. Otherwise, it would reflect poorly on the brand’s judgment in selecting its ambassador.

And if their judgment was in question, there would be no reason for future collaboration.

Everyone present, all seasoned players in the business world, understood perfectly well what Liu Qiangxi was insinuating.

Qian Jida’s smile grew a bit stiff.

He’d expected the brand to raise the stakes because of this, but hadn’t anticipated such forcefulness.

After all, Su Mu’s previous works were mostly lightweight idol dramas that Qian had arranged—shows that required little acting skill, relying solely on good looks to dominate ratings.

Now, they faced a high-stakes audition, with public scrutiny already at a fever pitch.

On the other side, the brand’s demands were sky-high, and refusal wasn’t an option—Su Mu still had two years and over six hundred million in revenue targets to meet in his contract with the company.

Qian Jida was now deeply worried about how Su Mu would handle the pressure.

If Su Mu faltered or expressed himself poorly, and Liu Qiangxi sensed that landing the role in Director Zhang’s series was unlikely, the brand could easily find grounds to alter the agreement.

If the endorsement fell through, that would be a massive loss of revenue.

Worse yet, the resulting media frenzy could spark all sorts of speculation about why Su Mu had lost his international endorsement.

Had his public persona collapsed? Was there some romantic scandal? Cheating? Leaked affairs?

These baseless rumors could do immense harm to Su Mu.

The downfall of a popular idol can be swifter than a stock market crash, and the public rarely sees the truth—most don’t care about the reality.

Once the tide turns, it’s a straight plunge into the mire.

Qian Jida’s mind was already racing through every possible scenario that might follow—likely or unlikely, he considered them all.

Just then, a voice chimed in, “Perhaps Director Liu isn’t aware, but Director Zhang’s new series is still in the casting phase. His auditions are famously strict in the industry—sometimes he won’t even give the producer face. Even if you’re a film king, if your performance doesn’t cut it, he may not take you.”

The speaker was a man whose appearance was as irksome as his tone—a neatly trimmed mustache, triangular eyes, and a biting smile.

It was Zhang Hua’an, manager of the rival effeminate boy group from Tianxing Media.

His interjection was clearly meant to embarrass Su Mu.

After all, if even film kings might be turned down, what chance did Su Mu have?

Qian Jida tensed, ready to step in and defend, but Su Mu beat him to the punch.

“Director Zhang is indeed famous for casting based solely on performance, not reputation. That’s precisely why I’m determined to win a role from him—so I can prove that I, Su Mu, am not just another pretty face clinging to groups, or buying my way into manufactured fame, or a defective idol who can’t even crack the top ranks of a talent show despite spending money.”

“Su Mu, you—!” Zhang Hua’an spluttered.

Liu Qiangxi raised his brows.

Qian Jida was left speechless.

After Su Mu’s retort, everyone’s expressions shifted.

He hadn’t named names, but anyone remotely familiar with the industry knew he was referring to the NNQT boy group.

The group had five members. Without makeup, none of them were particularly remarkable.

Zhang Hua’an had cobbled them together, and it hadn’t been easy to get them where they were.

Money had been poured into their rise—arranging for them to participate in talent shows, yet they hadn’t even made the top thirty. Eventually, some backdoor maneuvering got them into the top sixteen.

Now, they seemed popular, but the numbers were inflated, and they were still losing money.

To call them defective products wasn’t far from the truth—and it was a sore spot for Zhang Hua’an.

His expression was, to put it mildly, colorful—like swallowing a lump he couldn’t spit out or digest.

Su Mu, however, paid Zhang Hua’an’s glare no mind.

In truth, he’d never considered those effeminate types worth his attention; he and Qian Jida had always joked about them over meals.

He didn’t claim to have real substance himself, but as someone who’d risen through looks alone, at least he was a professional in that department.

To become a top star, you had to excel in something.

Defective idols weren’t even worthy opponents.

At this moment, Liu Qiangxi arched an eyebrow. “Oh? So Su Mu, you’re confident about landing this role?”

Su Mu’s smile was radiant, his presence undiminished—his self-assured, commanding aura drew admiring glances from many of the society ladies present.

He looked at Liu Qiangxi and replied, “What, Director Liu, are you doubting your ambassador’s ability?”

Liu Qiangxi paused, then laughed. “No, don’t misunderstand. How about this: I’ll use my authority to increase your endorsement fee. If you can use this series to elevate your public image and drive our brand’s new marketing campaign, I’ll add another twenty percent to your fee. But if you don’t meet expectations, you’ll have to accept a reduction.”

Qian Jida was stunned.

Zhang Hua’an was speechless.

Neither manager had expected things to escalate this way.

“No problem, it’s a deal!” Su Mu replied instantly, without a second thought.

After all, it wasn’t every day a gold-plated sponsor was eager to throw more money your way.