Chapter Thirty-Nine: The First Shot of the New Year

During the Spring Festival, the number of "corporate slaves" working overtime drops to its annual low. Yet, while the temptations of the holiday might deter them from being forced to work, they cannot stop those who are determined to grind regardless.

"Is this the real deal?"

"Could it be fake? This isn't just audio; it's video! The full version, perfect sound, clear faces of the parties involved—there’s no way to spin this."

The man, wearing a baseball cap tucked under his down jacket hood, lowered his voice and handed over his phone. "It’s a sample. I lowered the resolution, but the real file is 4K at 60fps. Absolutely professional."

The screen showed a somewhat blurry video with a shaky frame. It was clearly the corner of a corridor in a fire exit, where a man and a woman were standing face to face.

...

"This isn't home. Watch your behavior."

"Watch my behavior? Have you ever watched yours? Did you think about your behavior when you were flirting with all those little foxes? Did you ever consider me or our son?"

"You've had too much to drink."

"How many clients have I entertained on your behalf? How many deals were closed because of my influence? If the Zhou family didn’t care about the child, do you think they would let you mess around in the entertainment industry so freely? Hiding here, sneaking there, pretending to be innocent. How many times have you been home in the last two years? Does your son even recognize you as his father? Zhou Yifan, do you have any conscience at all?"

...

The clip was short, and the angle was poor—likely filmed from a high vantage point. The camera shook violently, and the lighting was dim. But the content was explosive.

"It’s absolute gold! Exclusive! I dare say I’m the only one in the world who has this. Whether you take it to the parties involved or their rivals, it’s a hot commodity. Once this drops, it’ll top every trending list on every platform!"

The man opposite him wasn't as heavily disguised, though he wore sunglasses and a mask. "If it were that perfect, would you really be selling it?"

"Don't kid yourself, man. This is a paparazzi shot, not a public street interview—it’s illegal. I can’t go toe-to-toe with the Zhou family’s lawyers; I don’t want to end up behind bars for a bit of cash. Why else do you think I’m selling it?"

"You know it’s illegal, yet you want me to buy it and leak it?"

"How you use it is your business! Who said anything about leaking it? I have the goods and the dirt on them. With your tracking skills, I don’t believe you can’t catch them meeting up in public. Once you release the details, a few subtle hints will be enough for the fans to get the message. Do I need to teach you that? If we weren't friends for ten years, I wouldn't have come to you. I wouldn't trust anyone else with this info!"

The woman in the video was a currently popular star, an "innocent goddess" whose public persona as a pure, untouched flower had propelled her to the top tier of fame. The man, on the other hand, was a notorious big-name agent known both inside and outside the industry. He claimed he didn't manage actors, only internet influencers, but his background was so intimidating that no one dared to mock him, and he was lumped in with the elite agents.

If these two were caught admitting to a secret marriage and a child, and were on the verge of a split, how much dirt could be dug up? How much was that worth?

They were both top-tier paparazzi; they knew the game inside out. Of course, the risks were just as clear.

"Stop trying to scam me. I know who the big shot behind her is, and I certainly know the weight of the Zhou family. Do you think I’ll have an easy life if I offend them?"

"Then keep digging with your team! Find some other legitimate dirt to sell to the Zhou family! Since they’ve already reached this point, I don’t believe this was their only private meeting!"

The man in sunglasses looked away from the phone. "Too much risk, too much trouble, too high a price. Forget it."

"No, no, no." Seeing the man about to leave, the one in the baseball cap grabbed his arm. "I'll drop the price by one digit, how about that? This is the real deal! You could make your money back just by selling a few screenshots!"

The man stopped, but he didn't give in. "Even if it’s real, it’s just empty talk. We don't see a kid, and there isn't even a single intimate gesture. All they have to do is claim they were 'rehearsing a script,' and they could sue you for copyright infringement. You wouldn't even have a place to defend yourself. I wouldn't put it past the Zhou family to whip up a script with this exact plot overnight."

The man in the cap knew his old friend well. "Fine, fine, you name your price! If you really didn't want to get involved, you would have left already. I haven't dug up anything useful all night—just some small-time social media owners and foreigners—and this was all I got. I don't want to walk away empty-handed."

The man held up a hand. "This much, at most."

"That’s too low! Do you think I’m just taking street photos? Both of their faces are visible! The original audio is recorded!"

"Then let's call it off."

"Fine, forget it! I'll just give it to the company for free! At least that’ll earn me a major favor!"

Seeing the deal was truly falling apart, the man wavered. "I’ll add one digit, at most. You know how risky this is. I might end up holding the bag on this one. I can’t go any higher."

"Meet me in the middle! Don't say another word. We both take a step back, or the friendship is over!"

"Fine, deal. For the sake of our friendship."

...

No one expected that the event to ignite the first massive trending topic of the New Year wouldn't be a blockbuster film, a public holiday, or the chaos of the travel season.

It was the "Food Delivery War."

A sudden announcement from a tech giant entering the delivery sector aimed directly at the industry's chaos, unlicensed workshops, and the exploitation of delivery drivers by existing platforms.

A business titan with millions of followers personally hit the streets to deliver food, pushing the entire event to the center of the storm. The internet went into a frenzy, with consumers cheering that they were "finally reaping the dividends of the era." Every topic related to food delivery exploded instantly.

The platform *Po Jian* (Breaking Cocoon) took off overnight.

Even its competitors couldn't fathom how a small short-video app with no major corporate backing had caught wind of the news so early, launching its "delivery driver" track two months before the war even began.

In just two months, *Po Jian* invested millions to recruit a massive army of delivery driver streamers, offering high commissions, sign-up bonuses, attendance rewards, and even instant cash-out perks. They essentially defined the entire delivery-streamer niche.

Then, the e-commerce giants started their war, and the public's attention toward delivery drivers skyrocketed.

It was as if everything had been perfectly choreographed.

Advertisers swarmed in, pouring capital into the *Po Jian* track before the New Year had even ended. By the time the dust settled on the delivery war, *Po Jian* had almost entirely recouped its initial investment.

"Man, sometimes I really think companies have a certain destiny—or someone is playing this game with a bird's-eye view."