Chapter 126: Teaser (Part I)

The teaser had not yet officially premiered, but those who had previously disparaged *Above the Firmament* were back in full force. This time, they returned with a vengeance, churning out article after article, each laden with “reason and evidence,” dragging the film's teaser through the mud.

—I admit I love science fiction and hope that Han-Tang’s sci-fi cinema can truly flourish. However, what I despise is the use of sci-fi as a pretext to peddle pseudoscience under the guise of filmmaking. I hereby announce a lifelong boycott of any product from Qingtang Tianxia.

—Exquisite prop production is the foundation of a great film. While Chen Jingming’s decision to hire a Hollywood prop studio shows he takes the film seriously, when it comes to the practical application of these “props,” I believe it should be evaluated by the applied sciences community.

—Chen Jingming is trash, an washed-up director who has been a failure for years; he has finally reached the point of total senility.

—Ling Xuan is such a spirited actress; to be embroiled in such an embarrassing promotional stunt, I fear her career in the entertainment industry is finished.

—When it comes to movies, I only respect those produced by Su’s Film Industry. If it’s from Su’s, it’s a masterpiece. I’m waiting for the final box office results. Besides, this movie hasn’t even started filming yet—if it even can.

The internet was flooded with vitriol directed at Qingtang Tianxia, interspersed only with the sporadic efforts of fans trying to support the project. These few fans were primarily die-hard followers of Chen Jingming and Ling Xuan, along with some attendees of the seminar. Despite having a small following, they were nowhere near the reach of mainstream media, and their efforts were remarkably feeble.

Even Wang Dong’s *Today’s Viewpoint* saw its servers nearly crash under the weight of countless incoming comments that the staff couldn't keep up with moderating. Wang Dong issued an emergency order for the entire company to work overtime, fighting a desperate last stand.

Seeing the public opinion so heavily skewed, Su’s Film Industry and Media poured fuel on the fire. Their internet water armies were active everywhere, stoking the flames on every topic related to the film and the teaser. Of the top ten trending topics, three were about this very subject:

—Chen Jingming and Ling Xuan embroiled in a pseudoscience scandal.
—A discussion on the scientific application of film props.
—What kind of company is Qingtang Tianxia, really?

Yang Damei hammered his keyboard in a rage, joining the fray, but he was no match for the legions of hired posters. He slammed his keyboard in frustration: “Damn it!”

Having attended the seminar, he felt implicitly aligned with Qingtang Tianxia. There were many others who had attended the seminar and shared his sentiment. Online, there was a small minority of supporters—some were simply repulsed by the one-sided smear campaign against the film, others disliked the tactics of the Su’s Film Industry and Media Group, and still others were rational voices calling for people to watch the teaser before passing judgment.

What started as a farce snowballed into a massive, phenomenal topic, drawing in voices even from the medical and scientific communities, fields that usually have nothing to do with entertainment.

The medical community remained largely skeptical; research into artificial organs had been ongoing for years, and while the theory was sound, achieving a complete simulation of biological organs remained unrealistic.

The scientific community was full of mockery and doubt. “A tiny film company—fine, make your sci-fi movie, but don't try to drag reality into it. Do you think we scientists are pushovers?” Some experts even called out Xiao Kaitian by name, criticizing him for being “impractical,” “delusional,” and an “ignorant child.”

Amidst the chaos, time ticked away. Yang Damei watched the countdown on the teaser’s playback page, feeling as though every passing second was an eternity.

At the headquarters of Qingtang Tianxia, the lights burned all night. Every employee worked overtime voluntarily. Some gathered to wait for the premiere, others nervously monitored the network traffic, and some were busy with phones that wouldn't stop ringing.

In the 46th-floor conference room, the company’s core team sat along both sides of a long table, each with a laptop in front of them. Guo Lei and Tang Tian gripped their hands tightly, their palms slick with sweat.

When it came down to the wire, even Chen Jingming lost his usual composure. He puffed incessantly on a cigarette that was already down to the filter, had made more than three trips to the restroom in the last half hour, and kept glancing around nervously.

Everyone’s nerves were frayed; the slightest sound made them jump in their seats. The room was filled only with the hum of the air conditioner.

The only three who remained calm were Xiao Kaitian, Zhao Qixi, and Bai Kou. Xiao Kaitian played a fruit-matching game where the enemy was a witch; Zhao Qixi read a book; both had cups of untouched herbal tea in front of them. Bai Kou sat on the edge of the 46th-floor window, sipping tea that carried the faint scent of jasmine.

All three were at ease and perfectly comfortable.

Lin Xiang was in a state somewhere in between. When he looked at Guo Lei and the others, he felt nervous; when he looked back at Xiao Kaitian, he felt it was no big deal. He adjusted his mindset quite effectively.

When the minute hand hit 7:55, Xiao Kaitian finally stopped his game. He switched the page to the teaser’s playback interface, took a small sip of his tea, frowned, and set the cup down.

“Mr. Xiao, you don't seem nervous at all.” Guo Lei managed to squeeze out a smile; she desperately needed someone to talk to, to alleviate the suffocating tension. After all, tonight’s outcome would determine the future of Qingtang Tianxia. If they failed, the entire project might collapse.

“I believe everyone has done everything they could. There is no need to worry,” Xiao Kaitian tapped his teacup like a child, producing a pleasant *dinging* sound. “I believe my employees are the best, and our team is the most powerful.”

“As planned from the beginning, the entertainment industry is not on the same level as us. We are performing a dimensional strike.”

“I think that rather than worrying about failure here, we should open the champagne early to celebrate our success. That is how much confidence I have in us.”

“The ones who should be crying and pacing in anxiety are those in the entertainment industry who stand against us.” With that, Xiao Kaitian smiled.

He was a natural orator, a gifted manager. These words of encouragement acted like a shot of adrenaline, boosting everyone’s morale.

Indeed, they had given their all. Every plan and strategy had been meticulously refined and tested. The enemy’s situation was clear, and their own trump card was only just about to be revealed tonight.

Once a sleeping tiger shows its fangs, it means the thrill of the hunt has only just begun.

When the clock struck 7:59, Xiao Kaitian closed his laptop. He pulled out a red Marlboro, walked to the window, and lit it.

“It’s beginning.”