Brother Dao Took the Entertainment Industry by Storm, Fans Beg Me Not to Kill Anymore

The scenes of ”Imperial Enterprise” were completed smoothly amidst all this chaos.

Daqing’s fourteenth year, autumn.

An autumn rain suddenly fell outside the window. The heavy downpour carried the chill of the season, accompanied by gale-force winds that whipped the treetops and lashed against the eaves, wailing like a soul reaper’s lament.

Inside the courier station, the candlelight was dim and yellow. The young emperor on the bed was haggard and emaciated—

Qin Zhuo was only thirty-two now. The remnants of imperial majesty still lingered in his brows and eyes, but his face was already deathly pale as paper, his lips tinged with a bluish-gray hue. Even the heavy dragon robe seemed somewhat empty wrapped around his gaunt frame, and his breathing had already become labored with obstruction.

A censer by the bed burned agarwood incense, its smoke curling upward, but it couldn’t dispel the room’s heavy smell of medicine and deathly stillness.

Qin Zhuo’s eyes were slightly closed, his eyelashes trembling faintly, as if sleeping, or as if struggling against his last breaths.

When he opened his eyes again, there was no trace of fear of death on his face. Instead, it carried a touch of relaxed composure.

His somewhat dry and bloodshot eyes moved slightly, finally settling on the censer before the bed. He stared quietly at the wisps of smoke rising into the air before ultimately dissipating into the world.

Just like mortals who come to this world—bringing nothing at birth, taking nothing at death, and in the end, even their souls return to the world.Looking back on the first half of his life, at fifteen he took up armor and went to war. By thunderous means, he quelled internal rebellions. Leading his iron cavalry personally, he trampled border threats. In just ten short years, he ended the era of chaos and division, unified the nine provinces, and rebuilt Daqing. In the years that followed, he worked diligently to govern, pushed through opposition, expanded weapons workshops, recruited master artisans from across the land, improved iron-smelting techniques, upgraded forging processes, unified weapon production standards, promoted military-industrial technological innovation, and insisted on ”protecting the nation with martial strength, securing the realm with military power”...

The fierce determination and stubborn obsession deep in Qin Zhuo’s bones ultimately left him no rest, no peace.

And they ultimately became his own death warrant.

As the candle flame inside the room flickered again, the firelight finally cast a glow upon the trace of exhaustion and unwillingness between his brows.

But he said nothing. He only turned his head one last time, his gaze calm as he looked at the camera beside him. In that moment, it seemed he was looking back across the camera at his brief yet tumultuous life, or perhaps gazing through the lens at the distant descendants who would benefit from his achievements. Finally, a very faint sigh escaped his throat, and he slowly closed his eyes.

And so, those eyes—once overlooking the world from on high, yet filled with imperial compassion—never opened again.

Emperor Chen’s life was frozen in the deep autumn of his thirty-second year. Few people guarded him, and he was even in nothing more than a small courier station, unworthy of the glory and brilliance of a founding emperor. Just as he had arrived—galloping swiftly on horseback, sharp and carefree—so he left: simply, cleanly, leaving only the room’s lingering medicine scent and endless regret.

A generation of emperors, curtains falling just like that.

A historically peerless monarch, a revered founding father of military industry, a senior who guided future generations of Chinese military research, an iron-blooded hard man who fulfilled his life’s promises with blood and life.

Even if his descendants occasionally amounted to nothing, his vast military-industrial empire was such that a hundred years could not destroy its foundations. Even when the later Qing Dynasty became nothing but a long river in history, the military technology and preserved craft legacy he left behind became a flame of resistance in the modern history of humiliation.

Qin Zhuo, Emperor Chen—destined to become a brilliant star on the pages of history!

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Before the monitor, Qiu Zhenlong put on his reading glasses and began scrutinizing the scene over and over again. His already furrowed brows grew even tighter with his movements, almost twisting together. The crowd around him, eagerly waiting, held their breath in unison.

No one knew how long passed before a relieved smile finally appeared on the old man’s face.

”No issues.”

He stood up, reached out, sincerely grasped Xiao He’s hand, and tightly hugged the young man. His tone carried a gravity and unreserved admiration: ”Congratulations, Xiao He! You’ve wrapped!”

After embracing Xiao He, he looked at the others around him and smiled. ”Congratulations to everyone as well. ’Imperial Enterprise’ is officially wrapped. To everyone here, I deeply thank you for your efforts these past days. It has been my pleasure to witness the life of a generation of emperors with you all. Everyone has worked hard! Thank you very much!”

With that, he took Xiao He’s hand, signaling the young man to join him, and the two sincerely bowed deeply in several directions to express their gratitude.

Immediately, enthusiastic applause erupted around them.

”Ahhh, awesome! Finally wrapped!”

”Happy wrap day!”

”Congratulations on wrapping!”

”Wahhh, this is so great!”

Some screamed, someone whistled, and the production crew, who had been holding in their tension for so long, finally erupted into a frenzy.

There was no helping it. Ever since the ”Imperial Enterprise” production started rolling, incidents had been constant.

Especially the suspension in the middle. Many had thought ”Imperial Enterprise” might be aborted, and all their hard work would go to waste.

But to their utter surprise, fate took a turn. In less than a week of stoppage, the ”Imperial Enterprise” crew miraculously resurrected. Not only did they replace the producers and investors with friendlier ones, but even their overall treatment improved significantly.

Although everyone’s spirits had been somewhat low because of the incident, it was precisely because they had that pent-up frustration that, after returning to work one after another, they worked incredibly hard under the leadership of the competitive-king Director Chou and Xiao He.

But the pressure of the work was indeed too great, and the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.

Until now, at this very moment, this arduous mission had finally been successfully completed!

Everyone cheered, venting the stress of those days, with even sobbing cries mixed in.

Xiao He was shocked. He couldn’t help turning back to see who was so emotional that a simple ”time to go home” moved them to tears—

He looked closely and saw it was Screenwriter Qin.

Oh, that made sense.

Xiao He instantly calmed down.

As they got closer to the end, Screenwriter Qin grew sadder. Now that he had personally witnessed Emperor Chen’s story conclude, it was only natural for Screenwriter Qin to be heartbroken.

But just as Xiao He tried to slip away, Screenwriter Qin called him back.

That somewhat haggard middle-aged screenwriter was now staring intently at the young man in imperial costume. Tears glistened in his eyes, and countless words pressed against his chest, wanting to be said, but for a long moment, not a single syllable came out.

Seeing he couldn’t escape, Xiao He could only stop in his tracks and calmly look at the man before him, still carrying the lingering imperial authority of an emperor.

In that moment, it was as if he truly stood before a historical figure.

But stories must always come to an end.

So in the end, Screenwriter Qin did not share his thoughts and feelings with Emperor Chen. Instead, he took a step back, stepping out of the river of history, and thanked Xiao He again: ”Xiao He, thank you. And thank you for your Emperor Chen.”

History is like viewing flowers through fog; heroes are always full of regrets.

Being able to see that character with his own eyes, being able to create ”Imperial Enterprise”—it was his fortune.