Chapter 54: Game Endorsement

On the first day of the holiday, Gu Jingyi was woken up at eight in the morning by his manager, who used a spare key to open the door.

"Gu Jingyi, get up quickly. We have a packed schedule today, and if we don't get up now, we'll delay the shoot."

Seeing that Gu Jingyi was still somewhat dazed, Lin Ze simply pulled the blanket away.

"Alright... I'm getting up right now."

As the warm blanket was taken away, the cold air made contact with his skin. Gu Jingyi's drowsiness vanished instantly. He got up, washed up, and immediately got into the van.

The driver had been waiting there for a while. As soon as he got into the vehicle, Gu Jingyi opened his thermos and took a sip of hot coffee.

The MMORPG version of *A Chinese Ghost Story* had just been released, and Gu Jingyi, whose popularity and buzz had been soaring lately, was the exact brand ambassador the game developers were looking for.

Hailing from Huace and maintaining a close relationship with iQiyi, Gu Jingyi possessed top-tier looks. Early on, he was chosen by the blue-blood luxury titan Dior to grace the covers of the top five women's fashion magazines.

No one doubted that Gu Jingyi could become the next top-tier traffic idol.

Backed by a major corporate giant and a powerhouse intellectual property, *A Chinese Ghost Story* selected Gu Jingyi from a massive shortlist of potential spokespersons the moment it was launched.

Today, Gu Jingyi was heading out to shoot a promotional short film for *A Chinese Ghost Story*.

The financially formidable "Pig Factory" had directly invested in producing a short film lasting over ten minutes just to promote the game, advertising it to the audience through soft placement.

Gu Jingyi would play a doctor, developing a storyline with his female co-star, who played a patient, centered around the game *A Chinese Ghost Story*.

Continuing the setup from *A Love So Beautiful*, he remained a doctor, embarking on all sorts of whimsical romance with a patient named Xuyu, who was so addicted to gaming that she often lost herself in it.

While the plot was somewhat cliché, it was executed with genuine care.

In late January 2018, very few people would go out of their way to shoot a short film just to promote an upcoming game.

In addition to this, Gu Jingyi would later need to live-stream himself playing the game upon its official launch. He also had to visit a recording studio to record voice lines for the game, which would be included as "hidden perks" on the official WeChat public account.

Only players with sufficient activity levels would be able to hear Gu Jingyi's voice lines.

True to a major gaming corporation, the workflow was meticulously tedious yet deeply versed in fandom culture.

Upon arriving at the shooting location, the makeup artists had already been waiting there for some time.

As soon as he entered, Gu Jingyi greeted the members of the staff, exchanged brief pleasantries, and sat down in the chair to wait for the makeup artist.

The makeup artist was very professional and didn't try to make idle chatter with Gu Jingyi throughout the process. This gave Gu Jingyi a chance to close his eyes, rest his mind, and quietly let the makeup artist work on him.

About thirty minutes later, once all the on-camera styling and makeup were fully prepared, Gu Jingyi stood up, expressed his gratitude, and walked toward the photography studio.

There were about twenty people inside the studio, all busy setting up the venue and calibrating the equipment. Gu Jingyi nodded in acknowledgment to the staff members who looked his way, and then walked up to the photographer in charge of this commercial shoot.

The other protagonist of this commercial shoot was Bai Lu. Seeing Gu Jingyi arrive, she smiled and greeted him.

"Whoa, so you're 'Jiang Chen'. Your face has been all over my social media feeds lately, and I vote for you on *Idol Producer* every single day."

Bai Lu, the other main lead of this commercial, stood next to the photographer and greeted Gu Jingyi with a smile.

At this time, she was still playing supporting roles to Wu Jiayan. Her career was still in its starting phase, and she was relegated to the margins of the New Year's Eve concert stage as well.

Being able to shoot a commercial with Gu Jingyi was already a remarkably good resource for her.

"Hello, I'm Gu Jingyi."

Gu Jingyi smiled and greeted her in return, prompting the photographer to speak up:

"Alright, now that the male and female leads for today have met and finished their styling and makeup, we should be able to start shooting shortly."

The photographer appeared to be in his forties, wearing a benevolent smile on his face.

"I have no issues on my end," Gu Jingyi said.

He had already changed into a professional doctor's uniform and was wearing a stethoscope around his neck.

"Me neither!" Bai Lu beamed widely.

Next came the final preparation stage before the official shoot. Gu Jingyi sat quietly to the side to adjust his mental state for filming.

He closed his eyes to immerse himself in the plot, doing his absolute best to tune out the footsteps of the staff members walking back and forth to set up the scene inside the studio.

As the photographer stepped up to the camera position and made the cue gesture to begin, Gu Jingyi, dressed in his white lab coat, stepped onto the set.

In the dim corridor, a burst of footsteps echoed.

The camera focused first on his leather shoes, then panned upward as the scene shifted.

Finally, it zoomed in on Gu Jingyi's face for a tight close-up shot.

"Morning, Dr. Gu."

A voiceover sounded as a colleague greeted him, and Gu Jingyi nodded in response.

He pushed open a door and walked over to a hospital bed.

"Xuyu, what's your temperature?"

Gu Jingyi flipped open his clipboard, preparing to take notes.

After waiting for a long time without hearing a reply, Gu Jingyi raised his head, frowned, and urged again:

"Xuyu? What's your temperature?"

Still receiving no answer, he pulled back the blanket. True enough, there was no one there—only a small teddy bear doll.

The camera panned toward the wall, where a portrait of Gu Jingyi drawn in a chibi Q-version style was pasted. Next to it was a label reading: "No gaming allowed."

Someone had intentionally modified the label to read: "No *not* gaming allowed."

The background of the story was gradually becoming clear; this patient seemed to possess a rather eccentric and whimsical personality.

"Could she be hiding under the bed?"

A nurse pushing a cart passed by, noticing Gu Jingyi's momentary daze and offering a reminder.

"She's been here for so many years, do you really think she'd still hide under the bed?"

Gu Jingyi tucked his pen into the pocket of his lab coat and walked out carrying his clipboard.

His internal monologue rang out: "I have an eccentric female patient who is a real headache."

"Usually, patients go looking for their doctor, but as a doctor, I spend all day long looking for my patient."

Gu Jingyi walked into the hallway. As he moved, other passing doctors and patients gestured to remind him where the person he was looking for was actually hiding.

Pressing the elevator button and following the hints, Gu Jingyi found "Xuyu" in the breakroom.

She was sitting inside a ball pit, her legs bent as she played video games with two little children.

Gu Jingyi pressed his lips together, grabbed her by the ear, and hauled her back to her ward.

There were simply too many mysteries surrounding Xuyu, and it was only as the plot slowly unfolded that everything finally became clear.

It turned out that Gu Jingyi was a player, while Xuyu was merely a game NPC.

Bai Lu's crying scenes were as formidable as ever; even this green, rookie version from 2018 was enough to tug at the heartstrings.

Near the end of the story, Gu Jingyi traversed mountains and rivers to finally find Bai Lu.

The two met amidst a snowy mountain landscape, and Bai Lu recognized him with tears shimmering in her eyes.

Gu Jingyi's voice sounded once more: "I used to not believe in romance within games, but now I do. We will frolic and bicker just like a real-life couple, and occasionally fret over trivial matters in our virtual homestead."

"I finally no longer need to rush around looking for you, because I believe we are bound to meet again."

The short film, lasting over seven minutes, finally came to a close. At the cry of "Cut!"

Gu Jingyi wrapped up his scenes. After exchanging WeChat contacts with Bai Lu, he got back into the company vehicle and headed to the recording studio.

He still had to move on to the next task on his agenda: recording voice lines.

His endorsement for *A Chinese Ghost Story*, after splitting the earnings with his company, would net him five million after taxes—a truly substantial sum of money for a child born into a middle-class family.

Gu Jingyi's promotional commercial and voice recording sessions for the day finally concluded at five-thirty in the afternoon.