Soon, the promotion team bought trending tags for Drunken River Moon.
Song Ye’s fans continued to criticize the production team, but since this was Song Ye’s lead drama, the trending post shifted their focus to promoting it to casual viewers.
With his large fanbase and wide recognition, the hashtag #DrunkenRiverMoonOpening quickly surged into the top three trending searches.
Of course, Qin Zizhen’s fans also contributed, while Zhou Bin’s fans were reluctant to promote, as he was only the second male lead.
- “This isn’t Song Ye’s lead drama? Let Fire Sister promote it herself,” one of Zhou Bin’s top fans said in the group chat.
Other fans agreed, leaving the vast Weibo feed with very few posts about Zhou Bin.
Zhou Bin frowned as he scrolled through his phone.
He put it down and examined himself in the mirror—adjusting the hairpin, tweaking makeup—until satisfied.
It wasn’t until the third male lead finished his styling that Pei Qingjian was called to do his makeup.
His makeup was simple. Not being a big star, the main stylist didn’t handle him personally; an assistant did.
“Change into your costume first,” the assistant smiled.
Pei Qingjian nodded and followed another assistant to get his outfit.
He was playing male lead four, Tan Xin, a young covert guard. At the start, Tan Xin had been secretly protecting Zhou Bin’s character, the second prince Qin Yuyu.
Until one day, Qin Yuyu ordered him to kill the male lead, Kong Mingxiu. Tan Xin followed the orders to the Kong household.
But he saw the male lead studying late into the night, writing policies one by one, all aimed at benefiting the country and the people.
Tan Xin, still young and inexperienced, couldn’t bring himself to act.
He watched from the rooftop all night, seeing Kong Mingxiu working until late before finally retiring.
He recalled what the townspeople had said before—they called him a good official.
A good official dies, and countless people suffer.
That night, Tan Xin failed his mission.
He returned to Qin Yuyu to report that he hadn’t succeeded.
Prepared for death, he faced Qin Yuyu’s almost certain wrath, and indeed, Qin Yuyu nearly killed him.
Yet Tan Xin was resilient; he didn’t fully die, struggling his way out of the mass grave.
He collapsed onto the muddy road, where Kong Mingxiu happened to pass by investigating a case and took him back. Only then could Tan Xin live again.
Grateful for Kong Mingxiu’s kindness and recognizing him as a good official, Tan Xin willingly stayed by his side to protect him.
Kong Mingxiu did not refuse.
From that point on, Tan Xin served a new master.
Until the end, he willingly sacrificed himself in the conflict between Qin Yuyu and Kong Mingxiu, ending his brief youth.
His life had been short and simple.
Born poor but strong, he was chosen as a covert guard in his youth, endured countless trainings and hardships, and eventually stood out to become one of the final guards allowed to meet Qin Yuyu.
At that time, he had no choice—he only wanted to survive.
But upon meeting Kong Mingxiu, he realized that the value of lives differs.
He could only end others’ lives.
Kong Mingxiu saved life after life.
So Tan Xin chose to die so that Kong Mingxiu could live.
He followed instinct when he couldn’t choose, and made a conscious choice when he could.
His conscience was clear, his purpose pure.
Despite limited screen time, he gained a measure of popularity among book fans.
Pei Qingjian changed into his costume and approached the makeup assistant.
“All set,” he said.
His outfit was simple: a black fitted tunic, cinched at the waist and wrists, giving a crisp, neat appearance.
The makeup assistant nodded repeatedly. “Nice, very well-fitted.”
“And it looks pretty good too,” another assistant added.
Pei Qingjian agreed, smiling at the two assistants.
“Then let’s do makeup and hair.”
They led him to the vanity.
Male actors in period dramas all wore wigs.
Tan Xin’s wig was ready—a simple high ponytail. Since he was a covert guard, the ponytail wasn’t long, just reaching his shoulders.
The hair assistant carefully positioned the wig, lightly combing the deliberately left fringe.
Drunken River Moon had Song Ye as the lead, with huge investment. The makeup and hair budget was ample, so nothing was skimped. Both costume and wig were finely crafted.
Pei Qingjian’s wig was expertly made; each strand of the fringe was distinct, light, and lively, almost indistinguishable from real hair.
Having already changed into his costume, the wig completed his transformation instantly.
The makeup assistant gasped, “Wow, it looks amazing even before makeup! Once we add makeup, you’ll be even more handsome!”
Pei Qingjian tilted his head slightly in the mirror—he did look pretty good.
He smiled. “That’s thanks to your great hair and makeup. Thank you for making me look good.”
The assistant with the powder puff grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll make you look perfectly handsome.”
She began applying foundation. Even with good skin and delicate features, camera-ready makeup was necessary; without it, he’d be at a disadvantage compared to other actors on screen.
After the base, she moved to eye makeup.
She was relatively new, playfully chatting, “Let’s make your eyes look amazing.”
Pei Qingjian, curious, watched the transformation. He didn’t understand the technicalities, but he could see his eyes seemed rounder, livelier—like beautiful cat eyes.
“This really looks good,” he said, amazed.
“Right?” the assistant replied proudly.
Meanwhile, the hair assistant, still inspecting the ponytail, felt the black tie wasn’t enough.
After some thought, she retrieved a black tie with gold trim from the cabinet.
The bright gold instantly added energy and life, enhancing his youthful aura.
“All done,” the hair assistant said, satisfied.
The makeup assistant packed her tools. “I’m done too.”
Pei Qingjian looked in the mirror—he really did look appealing.
“Thank you,” he said politely. “I appreciate it.”
“Not at all,” they replied together, sneaking a few more glances at him.
The set had many handsome actors, but Pei Qingjian’s combination of youth, cleanliness, and charm made him stand out—even compared to Song Ye.
“Xiao Pei, can you sign some autographs for us?” the makeup assistant asked.
He didn’t hesitate, taking the pen and signing several sheets.
“Thank you!” they said, delighted.
Pei Qingjian smiled politely. “I should be thanking you.”
After chatting pleasantly, he left the makeup room to meet Zhou Pengyue.
Zhou Pengyue had other artists under his management. Though present with Pei Qingjian, he still kept in touch with the others regarding work.
As he spoke, he heard Pei Qingjian calling him. Turning around, Zhou Pengyue froze in place.
Pei Qingjian tilted his head. “Does it look good?”
Something flashed through Zhou Pengyue’s mind, and he quickly said, “I’ve got something to deal with, let’s talk later,” and hung up the call.
He then opened the camera on his phone and started taking pictures of Pei Qingjian.
After snapping more than ten shots, Zhou Pengyue finally remarked, “No wonder I picked this face at first sight!”
With a face like that, if his acting were even passable and he had a bit of social skill, he wouldn’t have only appeared in two dramas so far.
After some deliberation, Zhou Pengyue sent Pei Qingjian three selected photos along with a note:
“Post these on your Weibo,” he instructed.
Pei Qingjian looked at the photos, thinking, Not bad, this manager of mine actually knows what he’s doing.
The lighting where they had stood wasn’t ideal, so the shadows weren’t perfect. With no computer at hand, he used his phone to tweak the images slightly before posting them.
Pei Qingjian V: [Finished makeup and hair, think I look a bit good 😳]
Attached were the three photos Zhou Pengyue had meticulously chosen and that Pei Qingjian had lightly edited.
“Here, all done.” He handed his phone to Zhou Pengyue.
Zhou Pengyue glanced at the posted photos, then compared them to what he had sent, astonished. “Why does it look different?”
“I edited them a bit,” Pei Qingjian said casually.
“Just now?” Zhou Pengyue asked in surprise.
“Yeah.” Pei Qingjian retrieved his phone, scrolling through the backend while replying.
Zhou Pengyue thought, Well, he’s got skills I didn’t know about.
Opening Pei Qingjian’s Weibo, he studied the photos. The more he looked, the better they appeared.
He had chosen the location for its simplicity and everyday feel, giving the impression that Pei Qingjian was effortlessly handsome.
Pei Qingjian’s edits didn’t diminish this sense—they enhanced it. He hadn’t changed his face, just adjusted lighting and refined the surroundings, making his youthful charm and handsomeness more prominent.
“Why didn’t I know you could do this before?” Zhou Pengyue muttered.
Pei Qingjian smiled at him but didn’t answer.
Zhou Pengyue moved closer to check the backend data, and even he was surprised.
He had asked Pei Qingjian to post the photos to gain followers, but the spike was far beyond expectation.
Pei Qingjian watched his follower count soar, like sesame seeds popping up, and excitedly opened the comments:
【OMG!!! Too handsome!!】
【Ahhh, is this Tan Xin? That costume has to be him!】
【So handsome, so handsome, better than the opening photos!!】
【“A bit good”? This is insanely handsome!!!】
【Bro, you have no proper perception of your beauty!!!】
【When the adaptation came out, I was despairing because my little Tan was just a supporting role, but now I’m going crazy!! My Tan Xin is too damn handsome!】
【This youthful vibe—bro, are you 18 this year?】
【I’m so satisfied!! Truly the chosen little Tan!!!】
Soon, book fans started posting Pei Qingjian’s Weibo on forums, screaming:
【Look at this handsome guy!!! The Drunken River Moon cast is unreal! Even a supporting actor can be this hot!】
Curious forum users clicked in, astonished:
【He’s actually handsome! Is he a newcomer? Haven’t seen him before.】
【Looks so young, a college student maybe?】
【This image is perfect! My brain’s already writing fanfic.】
【With this look, as long as his acting isn’t terrible, he’s bound to become popular.】
【I’m getting more and more excited for Drunken River Moon!】
The forum threads kept growing. Marketing accounts lurking there sensed traffic potential and reposted the content to Weibo.
Once one marketing account posted, others followed, using Pei Qingjian’s three photos and the forum screenshots.
Fans, noticing this handsome actor, quickly found Pei Qingjian’s Weibo and followed him.
Around the same time, a fan account posted candid shots of Song Ye.
Song Ye’s popularity and large casual following meant his candid shots were trending toward hot search.
Zhou Pengyue acted quickly, directing a few marketing accounts to post a compilation of Song Ye and Pei Qingjian’s candid shots, and purchased the hot search term #DrunkenRiverMoonCandid.
As a major IP starring Song Ye as the lead, the drama drew immense attention.
Many netizens, curious about the hashtag, clicked in and saw Song Ye, along with Pei Qingjian appearing alongside him.
The marketing posts, scripted by Zhou Pengyue, heavily praised Song Ye and included six polished images, featuring him in the first row, occupying the C position.
Pei Qingjian only had three photos in the last row, with a simple caption: 【This cast is really good-looking—not just Song Ye, even the actor playing the fourth male, Pei Qingjian, is handsome.】
Song Ye’s fans, having seen it all over the years, immediately recognized this as a purchased hot search. Yet since the text and images heavily promoted Song Ye, at first glance, it seemed like they were genuinely supporting him.
So they turned a blind eye and actively helped promote their brother on the trending topic.
With their support, the hot search shot up and eventually reached the top spot.
Whenever netizens clicked in, they would see the marketing posts at the forefront of Weibo, and naturally, Pei Qingjian’s styling and name were visible as well.
Song Ye was undoubtedly handsome, but he was a familiar face—many people already knew he was attractive. In comparison, Pei Qingjian was new and had a different type of charm, prompting many viewers to search for his Weibo and become his fans.
Even on Weibo’s main feed, ordinary users spontaneously posted about him:
【This is totally Tan Xin, I recognized him immediately!】
【So handsome, so handsome, thrilled as a fan!】
【Where are Pei Qingjian’s fans promoting him? This feed is all Song Ye’s fans.】
【Hahaha, Pei Qingjian probably doesn’t have many fans yet, but I’m officially his fan now!】
【Me too! Keep it up, bro, I’m rooting for you!】
Pei Qingjian watched his follower count multiply over and over, feeling astonished.
“Gaining followers, is it really this easy?” he asked.
Zhou Pengyue shrugged. “When looks are your biggest asset, it’s natural.”
“The rest depends on your acting,” he added.
“No problem,” Pei Qingjian said confidently.
Unlike his confidence, Zhou Bin was seething with anger.
Seeing the trending topic on Weibo, and remembering how the first #DrunkenRiverMoonOpening post barely mentioned him, his frustration only grew.
He messaged his manager, Yang Hao:
【Where’s my candid shot?!】
【Why is there only Song Ye and no me on Weibo?!】
【Even that Pei Qingjian is featured, but not me—do you think that’s fair?!】