Over the past few months, Sheng Quan certainly hadn’t been idle. Since her primary focus was on "The Cultivator," most of the people she chose to invest in were connected to the film crew.
Thanks to her careful management, the life-value feedback was maintained at just the right level. She had even resisted the urge to draw prizes—yes, she now had the luxury to skip it—all to test whether the results could be stacked.
Fortunately, her patience paid off. With the collective effort of the entire team, "The Cultivator" made it in time for the Lunar New Year release.
This was when the influence of the investors truly shone. Everyone scrambled to pull strings, each showcasing their unique abilities. Star Glow Entertainment was among them, quickly securing a release date.
General Manager Fang, with his signature thin mustache, had the most extensive connections in the theater industry. This time, he stole the spotlight among the investors.
Among the backers, Sheng Quan—who had already poured in 300 million (her funding over these months)—was undoubtedly the top dog. So when General Manager Fang got the chance to flex his influence, he was downright smug.
"This year’s Lunar New Year lineup is fiercely competitive. Take films like 'The Iron-Willed Boss,' 'My Happy Mom,' and 'Five Treasures Happy Family 2'—they’ve got adventure, comedy, warmth, all the hot genres covered. And yet, we still managed to secure such a high opening-day screening rate, almost on par with 'The Iron-Willed Boss.'"
Having pulled off a major coup, everyone was happy to shower him with praise. Even Sheng Quan raised a glass of cola in his honor.
As for why she wasn’t drinking at what was clearly a premature celebration dinner, not even the most lightheaded General Manager Fang dared to ask.
When someone’s thrown 300 million into the pot, who cares if they skip the alcohol? It’s not like she forced everyone else to drink cola with her.
He was too busy dreaming big: "Once 'The Cultivator' hits the screens, we’re 99% guaranteed success. Hahaha! Folks, next up, we might even be aiming for awards!"
This wasn’t just wishful thinking. After the final cut of "The Cultivator" was completed, they held private screenings and invited reputable critics for feedback. The result? A staggering 80% approval rating.
Keep in mind, their test audience spanned all age groups—men and women, young and old, even foreigners. An 80% positive response was exceptionally high.
The review from Mr. Wang’s critic friend further cemented their confidence:
"This film exceeds expectations in every aspect—scriptwriting, editing, sound design, visual effects, emotional impact. The performances are so convincing they blur the line between fiction and reality. Even audiences who’ve never touched the xianxia genre will likely be moved. On a scale of ten, I’d give it a 9.9."
This unanimous praise was the driving force behind the investors’ all-out efforts to promote "The Cultivator."
Life rarely delivers true "surprises." If most people say a movie is bad now, it might stage a comeback decades later due to shifting tastes. But if most agree it’s great and destined to be a hit, then it will explode—no doubt about it. The only question is whether it’ll be "blockbuster" or "mega-blockbuster."
And the investors’ goal? To push "The Cultivator" into "mega-blockbuster" territory.
The marketing campaign was firing on all cylinders.
Recently, xianxia content had enjoyed a resurgence, and now, it was time for that trend to pay dividends. Clips of "The Cultivator" went viral, amplified by strategic promotion, creating palpable hype. Fans of the genre were thrilled—though they didn’t realize their newfound love for xianxia had been carefully cultivated from the start.
Still, not everyone was fooled.
Before the film’s release, one netizen posted their ticket with excitement, calling it the movie that sparked the xianxia revival. But others spotted the bigger picture.
@CaramelPopcornFan theorized:
"My favorite xianxia novel? The author said it was commissioned work. My favorite xianxia comic? Also a sponsored project. And the timing lines up perfectly with when 'The Cultivator’s' filming location was leaked.
Sure, you could argue that xianxia livestream was mind-blowing, but how likely is it that so many sponsors just happened to appear? This was clearly groundwork for the movie’s release.
Think about it—xianxia was practically dead before. Why would it suddenly bloom everywhere just as a xianxia film is about to drop?
This was one elaborate chess game."
The theory made sense. Some dismissed it as overthinking, while others shrugged it off.
@CitrusMeow summed it up: "If high-quality xianxia stories are the result of corporate maneuvering, then all I can say is—keep it coming! Push harder!"
Here’s the translated content tailored for English-speaking readers:
The Maple Moon Here: "As long as the movie is good, I don’t care how they promote it. Just make it good!"
Screaming Weirdo: "Honestly, I heard Sheng Quan is the biggest investor in this film. Given her personality, she might actually go around commissioning all sorts of xianxia works just because she loves the genre."
Non-European Today Wants Luck: "Agreed with the above. My girl Sheng Quan would totally do something like this. Didn’t she just spend a fortune two months ago buying a song from some unknown artist on Leting?"
The Manor Master’s Apprentice: "Qian Qianling’s song was totally worth it, but for an obscure online singer, Sheng Quan paying such a high price was seriously generous."
Usually Crescent Moon: "Sheng Quan didn’t lose out, though. Qian Qianling now has millions of fans and is signed under Starlight Entertainment—it’s a fair exchange. But it’s so surreal how everyone Sheng Quan takes a liking to suddenly blows up."
Can’t Crack Nuts: "Or maybe the people who catch Sheng Quan’s eye are just talented to begin with?"
Flying Eel: "Exactly! Did you guys notice the Taoist monk in the clips from The Cultivator? We’ve seen plenty of martial monk tropes, but this is the first time we’re getting a martial Taoist. When he tore his robes, my jaw dropped! The sheer impact, the explosive energy—you could feel it through the screen. And guess what? He’s also signed under Starlight."
Daily Name Change: "Haven’t you heard the saying? Starlight doesn’t sign ugly people. Look at all their artists so far—even An Baixing can be called a sunny little hottie."
This is also why netizens reacted so indifferently—even enthusiastically—to the OP’s comment about "this being a grand scheme where we’re all just pawns," with responses like, "If this is a grand scheme, please scheme harder."
The entertainment industry is never short of handsome men and beautiful women, but there’s always those with zero talent or looks who hog resources just because they have connections.
So when Starlight Entertainment appeared out of nowhere, with a chairwoman who’s obviously a looks-obsessed connoisseur and an impeccable eye for talent—only signing people who are both stunning and skilled—how could audiences not cheer?
Hotpot Loves BBQ: "This is how it should be! The entertainment industry is about entertainment—about good looks and bringing joy to the audience. Chairwoman Sheng, you’re killing it!"
Shang Bo: "Just from the clips, you can tell how much care The Cultivator’s team put into this. It’s rare to see such a sincere domestic film—I’m supporting it no matter what."
Glazed Candy: "Am I the only one who noticed every single person in the clips is drop-dead gorgeous? This aesthetics-obsessed fan has already bought tickets!"
Cute Foodie: "My boy Yan Hui was discovered by Sheng Quan. Her taste is unmatched!"
Salt and Pepper Seal: "I don’t care if the xianxia hype is marketing. If it’s good enough to entertain me, I’ll promote it myself."
Plenty of viewers share this mindset, but most don’t overthink it. Some just love xianxia, some stumbled upon the clips and got curious, and others are here for their favorite stars.
Yu Miao is here for her favorite actress—Shen Lv.
To fans, Shen Lv’s career has been unfairly tough. Despite her stellar acting, she keeps landing weird roles. The one drama that finally got her noticed was overshadowed by unfair comparisons.
As a longtime fan, Yu Miao has watched Shen Lv’s journey—from her goofy, occasionally cringey Weibo posts to the robotic, PR-approved updates.
But after joining The Cultivator’s cast, Shen Lv’s Weibo slowly came back to life.
Sometimes it’s a selfie with a bag of roast duck, posing with her co-stars: "Got praised by the director today, haha! She said it was obvious I’d been practicing hard, so she rewarded me with her roast duck."
Other times, it’s a shot of grass stubbornly growing through set tiles: "The grass vs. props team saga continues. They keep tearing it out; it keeps growing back. Chairwoman Sheng said they’ll let it grow freely after filming wraps."
Or a group gym selfie: "This cast is insane—abs everywhere. Gotta work harder!"
Occasionally, she’d sneak a shot of Sheng Quan from afar: "Chairwoman Sheng watching us film through binoculars. She noticed me taking pics and gave me a peace sign."
Fans have happily dissected Shen Lv’s transformation, concluding one thing: The Cultivator’s set runs on pure meritocracy.
A big-name actor was cut from the project after two weeks—the crew was willing to reshoot all his scenes and pay penalties just to remove him.
The actor later hinted on Weibo that he "wasn’t kicked out" but "left because the project wasn’t up to par."
Then, some behind-the-scenes footage from the film set was "leaked" online, mostly showing the actor failing to deliver his lines and blaming his co-stars, along with various diva-like antics.
Yu Miao thought this actor was truly foolish. What kind of production was The Cultivators? The investors involved were practically all big shots, with a budget reaching hundreds of millions.
This was a production that could literally build an entire "immortal palace" from scratch just to achieve the best filming results. With so much money poured into it, there were plenty of actors to choose from—why would they tolerate his unprofessional behavior like some low-budget crew?
Hadn’t he noticed that other equally famous, even more renowned actors were all diligently following the filming schedule without complaint?
Still, his stupidity had its perks—at least now that he was gone, their beloved Shen Lv wouldn’t have to worry about being bullied. Especially when Yu Miao saw how the crew celebrated Shen Lv’s birthday with a cake, her heart swelled with so much joy she could barely contain it.
Shen Lv’s growth had subtly turned fans like her into fans of the production itself—the director, the crew, even Sheng Quan.
So, the moment tickets went on sale, Yu Miao bought hers, determined to show her support through action.
Of course, when leaving a review, she’d make sure to highlight that she was Shen Lv’s fan, just to let everyone know their "Lv Lv" could carry a film’s box office too!
With this mindset of "I’m going to savor every moment of my Lv Lv’s performance," Yu Miao entered the theater. A fantasy film like this demanded top-tier visuals, so IMAX was a must.
At the start, she was still wondering when Shen Lv would appear. But as the screen brightened, revealing breathtaking landscapes, she nodded to herself—this already looked more stunning than the usual CGI-heavy films.
The camera panned downstream to a simple village woman washing clothes by the river, only to be suddenly yanked underwater by a green-scaled hand with long, claw-like nails—
The shot composition was so masterful that Yu Miao froze with her popcorn halfway to her mouth, completely drawn in.
She thought, This woman’s definitely getting eaten by a monster. Classic demon-slaying setup.
But the next moment, the woman and a green-haired girl emerged from the water together. The woman affectionately ruffled the girl’s head, chiding, "Miss Shui, must you be so mischievous? I’m busy—no time to play."
The girl, unmistakably a fish spirit with her ethereal beauty, blinked and clumsily offered a plump fish. "For... you to eat," she stammered.
At this point, Yu Miao was both intrigued and surprised. But what really stunned her was when the woman returned to the village, where little spirits roamed freely—
A willow spirit used its branches to haul goods, a cat spirit napped lazily in the sun, even a rock spirit inched along the road. The villagers were so accustomed to them that humans and spirits gossiped side by side.
And it all felt real.
Despite their human forms, the spirits’ true natures were unmistakable—the cat spirit’s every movement reminded Yu Miao of her own pet.
The low-roofed houses, passing villagers, distant vendor calls, and rising smoke from hearths—everything felt tangibly alive.
Even as a layperson, she could tell: this film was packed with detail.
Soon, she stopped analyzing and simply let herself be pulled into The Cultivators’ world.
—"A cultivator follows their heart. If yours beats as one, then you are one."
—"I said, could you shut these eyes... and the other few hundred too?"
—"Of course an immortal palace must be beautiful—how else would it live up to mortal dreams?"
—"Infinite heavens! Why can’t mortals too shield their own kind?"
—"What’re you staring at? Never seen an elder vomit blood? Want me to slap you all into spitting up too?!"
—"Your path is detachment. Ours is compassion for all."
—"Sweet heavens! Even a thousand-year turtle’s shell couldn’t take that hit—good thing I’ve got a ten-thousand-year backup—WAIT, no! Old Tortoise went home to visit! Daoist, RUN!"
—"Do all cultivators only love the people for their faith? I refuse to believe it. So I’ll prove it."
—"I really don’t want to part with my money... Senior Sister, if we die saving the world, they’ll gild our statues, right? Solid gold, please."
—"Is trading a lifetime of cultivation for their lives worth it? Fool—if you stood below, would you want to live?"
—"You would? Then it’s worth it!"
By the film’s end, Yu Miao had laughed until her sides hurt, wiped away tears, then laughed again. The vast lore, dazzling worldbuilding, and cultivators bursting with personality—
She witnessed their joys and sorrows, watched them walk paths of their own choosing.
When the power of faith finally reappeared, and the prayers of ordinary people converged into a massive force that surged into the bodies of the cultivators holding up the celestial pillar, Yu Miao was utterly overwhelmed.
The passionate music resonated deep in her heart.
As the movie ended and the lights came on, only one thought filled Yu Miao's mind.
She had to watch it again!!!
She quickly pulled out her phone to buy tickets for the next showing, only to find it was already sold out. Fortunately, being as clever as she was, she checked other theaters and managed to snag a seat that wasn’t too bad.
On her way to the theater, Yu Miao couldn’t contain her excitement. Sitting on the subway, she opened a review app and feverishly typed out long paragraphs of praise.
In summary: "So good!! So good!! I never watch xianxia films, but now I know how amazing they can be!!"
After passionately pouring out a thousand words, Yu Miao finally exited the page, satisfied.
But of course, she wasn’t going to stop at just leaving a review.
Yu Miao swiftly opened every app she had. First, she posted on her social media: "‘The Cultivators’ is incredible! Highly recommended!"
Then she messaged friends and family: "I just watched ‘The Cultivators’—OMG, it’s so good! A total feast for the eyes in every way! I’m on my way to watch it again. You have to see it! If you want to rewatch it later, I’ll gladly join you for a third round!"
Finally, she went into every group chat she was in, promoting the movie one by one.
When she reached her fan group, the members enthusiastically promised to watch it too.
"Really?! That’s awesome! I only managed to get tickets for tomorrow, but I’ll definitely go! How was it? Was our Lv Lv absolutely stunning in it?!"
Yu Miao’s excitement briefly cooled: "..."
Oh no!!!!
Lv Lv!!
She’d been so engrossed in the movie that she hadn’t even noticed Lv Lv’s beauty!
Her brain froze for a second before she quickly rationalized it and replied:
"Lv Lv’s acting was phenomenal!! She completely became her character—I didn’t feel any disconnect at all. The whole time, I saw her as the role itself! You’ll understand when you watch it. It’s seriously amazing!!"
After sending that, Yu Miao’s excitement reignited.
Right!
If "The Cultivators" was this good, it was bound to blow up—and Lv Lv would rise with it!
Her performance was so outstanding that people would surely search for her name and become fans.
Yu Miao shared this optimistic outlook in the group, and those who hadn’t seen the movie yet began envisioning a bright future.
Someone else chimed in: "Well, it’s not guaranteed, so we need to watch it ourselves and hype Lv Lv up. Ahhh, I can’t wait! I’m already seeing tons of praise for the movie online!"
Yu Miao reassured them: "Don’t worry! It’ll happen! Once people watch it, they’ll immediately look up Lv Lv and follow her!"
The group member asked: "How can you be so sure?"
In real life, Yu Miao glanced at her phone, where her Weibo was already filled with new follows: Cough.
She’d even given Sheng Quan a special follow because many of the people she followed were artists under Sheng Quan’s company.
After a brief moment of guilt, Yu Miao convinced herself again—this wasn’t being fickle.
It was being open-hearted!!
