Chapter Nine: Not Crafting a Persona

Originally, whether it was minor celebrities like Duan Hai or faded stars like Hong Fei and Guan Peng, none of them had any objections to the treatment Lin Xing received. That’s just how things work in the entertainment industry.

After all, why else would everyone want to be famous?

Once you’re famous, you’re surrounded by good people.

Fairness simply doesn’t exist in this circle.

Some people earn over two million a day, while others make just thirty. And often, the ones making thirty a day work far harder than those raking in millions.

At first, everyone assumed Lin Xing was just there to coast along and enjoy the benefits—something they’d seen plenty of times. Every celebrity has a persona.

Not long ago, someone exposed that Ren Dayi’s “cooking” was staged—everything was prepared by others before the camera rolled on him.

And who would believe that someone like Lin Xing, who made a living with his looks, would actually get his hands dirty with real work?

But as it turned out, not only did Lin Xing work in the fields, he did so with remarkable dedication.

At 12:15 in the conference room, the lunchboxes ordered by the production team arrived. Everyone ate and chatted at the same time. During the meal, Lin Xing learned the names of the six lesser-known celebrities, among whom Duan Hai had at least appeared in some variety shows and had one hundred twenty thousand followers on Weibo. The other five didn’t even have ten thousand. They couldn’t be more obscure.

“Mr. Lin, about that story where you acted bravely—what exactly happened?” Duan Hai asked during lunch.

The next part of the script centered on Lin Xing, after all. With Lin Xing now trending on Weibo, the show “Let’s Farm” naturally wanted to ride the wave.

“It happened eight years ago,” Lin Xing began, “and honestly, it just felt odd…”

He recounted the incident: back then, he had gone to Starfish City for an event. Afterward, he planned to take the high-speed train back to the capital that very night. At a crosswalk, he saw two women and a man arguing. One woman was violently attacking another, accusing her of being a mistress and stealing her husband. The man kept apologizing and tried to drag the battered woman away.

Most onlookers dismissed it as a typical messy affair, even the drivers waiting at the light shook their heads, muttering about “people these days.”

But Lin Xing noticed something off. The woman being beaten kept insisting in terror that she didn’t know them. Lin Xing, trained in martial arts, could tell that the attacker was hitting with real force, not even giving the victim a chance to speak.

So, he intervened—and, sure enough, it was a setup.

“My god, who could’ve seen through that?” someone exclaimed.

“No kidding. If it were me, I probably wouldn’t have stepped in.”

“I probably wouldn’t, either.”

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As Lin Xing finished his story, Duan Hai and the others were clearly in disbelief.

Even Hong Fei, who was trained in martial arts, admitted he probably wouldn’t have gotten involved.

Who would expect human traffickers to be so brazen in real life?

After that, Lin Xing spoke about his charity work, saying that the most important thing was persistence, and there was no need to publicize it.

If you make a big fuss over trivial charitable acts, isn’t that just being shameless?

After lunch, everyone else went back to work in the fields, while Lin Xing and Lin Miaoyin were assigned a different task by the production team: cooking.

It was said to be for improving everyone’s quality of life. Farming was hard work, so today Lin Xing would prepare a special meal for everyone.

“There’s a market less than two kilometers from here, and it has everything you need,” Guo Biao said to Lin Xing.

“How do we get there?” Lin Miaoyin frowned. “Are we supposed to walk two kilometers?”

“You can ride an electric scooter, or drive an electric tricycle,” Guo Biao replied. “Do you know how to drive an electric tricycle?”

Lin Miaoyin shook her head, indicating she didn’t. Lin Xing answered, “Let’s take the tricycle. I’ll drive.”

Guo Biao was surprised. “Are you sure, Mr. Lin? Just the other day, Duan Hai drove one straight into a ditch.”

“It’s fine, I know how,” Lin Xing replied, checking the time. “Where’s the tricycle?”

By then, the staff had already brought it over as instructed.

“Mr. Lin, this is the brake, and if you press this, it’s for reversing…” a staff member explained.

“Please reverse, please reverse…” As the button was pressed, the tricycle emitted a mechanical “please reverse” message.

“Try it out first, Mr. Lin,” the staff said, still anxious about Lin Xing.

“No worries, I’ve driven one before,” Lin Xing said.

He nimbly got on, turned a circle, and called to Lin Miaoyin, “Hop on, let’s go shopping.”

So Lin Xing drove the tricycle up front, while the camera followed closely behind. Other crew members, carrying equipment, headed to the market ahead of them.

“Brother Xing, what are we planning to cook?” Lin Miaoyin asked excitedly, clearly enjoying the novelty of riding the tricycle.

“We’ll see what’s at the market first,” Lin Xing called out as he drove carefully.

Thirteen minutes later, Lin Xing reached the market.

He bought some beef, lamb, a pig’s head, and then potatoes, tofu skin, cabbage, celery, and other vegetables. He also picked up green onions, ginger, garlic, and a variety of seasonings—dark soy sauce, vinegar, cooking wine, oyster sauce, and so on.

On the way, Lin Xing had already decided what to cook.

There were a lot of people—ten in total, and even more if you counted Feng Gang and the others.

So, he’d make something suitable for a crowd.

A big pot meal!

Lin Xing returned, his tricycle fully loaded.

The production team had already prepared a chef, and several helpers to wash vegetables. After all, no one expected Lin Xing and Lin Miaoyin to handle an entire table of dishes by themselves.

“Mr. Lin, you just need to pretend to stir-fry a bit for the cameras. We won’t film your whole body, so your hands and face will be shot separately. Later in post-production…” Guo Biao explained to Lin Xing.

“No need, Director Guo,” Lin Xing replied with a smile. “I don’t rely on a persona, and I don’t need to act. Besides, I’m not a chef. So what if I mess up the meal?”

Guo Biao was taken aback. “We’re just worried about your image…”

“My image is authenticity. Creating an all-powerful persona would only hurt it,” Lin Xing replied.

He knew that personas could attract fans, but also that they could backfire just as easily.

So from the start, Lin Xing never planned to play that game.

As always, it wasn’t necessary, not worth it, so why bother?

Shortcuts might bring quick success, but they can also lead to disaster.

“Let’s go with Lin Xing’s way,” Feng Gang said over the walkie-talkie to Guo Biao.

Today truly was full of surprises.

Feng Gang was already starting to look forward to what would happen next.

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