Who Needs a CEO? I Choose Stardom

”Excuse me, miss, sorry to bother you again. We’d like to interview you. If it’s convenient, could you tell us about ’Steel Jenny’?”

As for the hottest topic in London today, the story of an eighty-three-year-old die-hard Chelsea fan being tragically knocked down in the stands by an Arsenal player was definitely in the top three.

In an era where clicks are king, all media outlets chase trending topics, and the BBC was no exception.

Jenny was still in the hospital. A moderate concussion was no joke—she might wake up seeing stars. No one with a shred of decency would try to interview her at a time like this.

Therefore, Ni Bingyan—who had been sitting right next to Jenny, chatting happily with her, and who brought her own significant online following—was the perfect interview subject.

The BBC reporters arrived quickly. To save time, they even brought along someone she knew.

Ni Bingyan hadn’t even had a chance to change out of her bloodstained clothes before she was cornered at the hotel entrance.

Considering the timely nature of news, she heard them out and followed them into the coffee shop downstairs in the hotel.

You had to admit, they were very efficient.

If it had been some other tabloid wanting an interview, Ni Bingyan might have ignored them. She was in the middle of filming a variety show and didn’t have much time to waste.

But the BBC was different.

After all, she had just taken their money and was scheduled to film a show with them tomorrow.

”Steel Jenny?”

She had just sat down in the coffee shop when the tall, slender woman from that morning—the one who looked serious but actually had a dry sense of humor—spoke up.

’Just as I expected,’ she thought.

Reina was the one who had made the introductions; the interview itself would be conducted by her colleague.

Seeing Ni Bingyan ask about this first, a flicker of pride showed in Reina’s eyes, and she lifted her chin slightly.

”Yes. We decided to call this strong woman that. By the way, we’ve just received confirmation that Ms. Jenny has woken up. She’s just too badly injured to stay conscious for long, so the doctors still have their work cut out for them.”

”Sigh. Poor Jenny!”

After a sigh, Ni Bingyan picked up her coffee. ”Ask whatever you want. I have a shoot scheduled this afternoon. Oh, and my crew will need to film some footage. As you know, I’m here filming a variety show. This interview is part of my schedule, and it needs to be faithfully documented.”

Pei Jin and the others had already set up their cameras, their stance leaving no room for argument.

This travel show had a proper contract with a television station, making it a far cry from a self-produced online show. Plus, since there was no extra charge for this interview, the other party had no intention of making things difficult and readily agreed.

And so, the interview began.

”If you don’t mind, could you tell us what happened?”

”What happened?”

Ni Bingyan gave a helpless smile. ”It all happened so fast. You have to understand, we were in the front row. The ball came flying over at incredible speed. After it hit Jenny, it landed in my arms. I just caught it on reflex. The on-site cameras probably have a clearer picture of what happened than I do.”

”Are you alright? Did you have a doctor look at you?”

The reporter, a young man with curly brown hair, seemed friendly enough, but his questions were like the surface of the moon—riddled with craters.

’Good grief!’

’This reporter didn’t happen to jump ship from some tabloid, did he?’

’Is he trying to sensationalize the harm done?’

She was a Chelsea fan, but she didn’t hate Arsenal. How could she possibly exaggerate the facts?

If the news report later used her answer to write something like—”The powerful, heavy ball, after felling an 80-year-old woman, nearly took out the famous actress from the East, Ni Bingyan, who has 80 million followers online and has won the XX award...”

Never mind how cringeworthy that would be for her; if her fans back home were provoked and jumped the Great Firewall to start flame wars, the fallout would be terrible.

Ni Bingyan immediately slowed her speech, considering each word carefully before speaking. She was afraid this guy, who looked respectable enough, would try to trap her again if he failed the first time.

”I’m fine. After the ball hit Jenny, it had already lost a lot of its force. Calling her ’Steel Jenny’ is really fitting. She’s so optimistic and strong, and I’m sure she’ll be as unbreakable as steel. I hope she’ll be back in the stands soon. Don’t you?”

Faced with her counter-question, what else could the reporter say?

He could only smile and nod.

”Yes! The whole world is hoping for her speedy recovery—and not just the Blue Army fans!”

Ni Bingyan smiled, nodded, and motioned for him to continue.

Actors from the East were always very cautious with their words, unlike Western actors who were often bold and skilled at creating buzz for themselves.

Realizing she wasn’t the type to court controversy, the reporter gave up on that line of questioning, and his inquiries became much more conventional.

For this kind of low-profile celebrity who didn’t usually seek publicity, stirring up a bit of drama could indeed generate great results. But more often than not, while reaping the benefits, you would also earn their resentment, making a future interview absolutely impossible.

In the internet age, nothing that exists is a secret. For a public figure, digging up information on her was even easier.

Within hours of the incident, Ni Bingyan’s entire resume had been dug up by the foreign media.

She was someone who trended as naturally and frequently as drinking water, and she was so young. No one in the media wanted to get on her bad side, no matter how powerful their own outlet was or that it was in another country.

Because the benefits of being on good terms with her were clearly far greater.

Everything was about globalization these days. When people liked a celebrity, they didn’t care what country they were from.

”Many people are now very curious, what were the two of you talking about when it happened? How did you not notice a ball flying toward you?”

’Is he trying to say Jenny was also responsible for getting hit by the ball?’

Seeing that the interview was almost over and he still didn’t have enough of a bombshell, the reporter couldn’t resist asking a slightly pointed question.

It was a question that might annoy her, but not truly offend her.

However, Ni Bingyan was no ordinary person. Even after a series of mundane questions in the middle, she hadn’t let her guard down.

”I doubt any true gentleman would want to know what two ladies were discussing in private, would he? As for not noticing the ball flying over in time? Perhaps it’s because a football from the match isn’t supposed to end up in the stands in the first place, so no one would be constantly on guard for it, right?”

Instead of questioning why the ball was kicked into the stands, they were asking why the spectator didn’t dodge. It was pure victim-blaming logic.

It was like a thief robbing a house and leaving a note for the owner asking, ”Your house is so easy to rob, why don’t you buy a safe?”

Rebuffed by her firm but polite response, the reporter didn’t get angry. He said a few more pleasantries and concluded the interview.

The tall, slender Reina stood up, shook her hand, and offered a tight smile as she reminded her of the filming time for tomorrow’s show before leaving with her colleague.

Ni Bingyan glanced at the time—it was already one-thirty. After having lunch with her companions, she went to find a tackle shop to rent some fishing gear.

The interview hadn’t taken much time. As long as she skipped her afternoon nap, it just meant a few less casts of her fishing rod. She found that completely tolerable!

’As for whether she’d have enough energy without a nap?’

’To go fishing in new waters, I could pull an all-nighter! What’s skipping one nap?’