The Martial Artist Turned Movie Mogul-Chapter 1020 - 1019. Bounty Order!

However, online discussions once again propelled Tang Shu to several trending topics for her relentless fan dedication, successfully overshadowing the massive casting debacle for Vast Entertainment’s grand wuxia drama.

Looking at the trending list, only one or two topics near the bottom were still related to Feng Yan, leaving Vast Entertainment’s crew grinding their teeth in frustration.

"This Tang Shu sure knows how to stir things up! Even something that’s clearly a losing proposition—she goes ahead with it? What’s her game?"

"What kind of celebrity uses their own money for fan events? It’s already a blessing to break even without charging for merch or posters. And here she comes, being such an outlier! How are we supposed to compete?"

"Fan events are spiraling out of control like this. Guess we’re all in for some pain down the line—"

"Hmph, just another attention grab!"

Several celebrities let their jealousy take full reign, shedding crocodile tears for themselves while embarking on the arduous task of pacifying their own fanbases.

***

When Starshine Media finalized the list of 1,000 lucky fans, Tang Shu’s name finally slipped off the trending board.

But predictably, Vast Entertainment and Feng Yan instantly jumped to the top of the rankings, once again pushing the casting debacle to new heights of absurdity.

Though Tang Shu had retreated from the spotlight, her legend lingered in the industry, while other Starshine Media artists gradually emerged one after another.

The Imperial Medical College had begun its new semester.

After finishing three consecutive classes on Monday, Tang Shu bid farewell to her two friends and headed to the faculty housing. Professor Yu was already waiting for her in the study.

"Perfect timing—I was just about to call you."

Professor Yu adjusted his glasses and pulled out a thick stack of documents. It wasn’t an exaggeration; the pile looked like it could easily have over 200 pages.

Tang Shu accepted it, and upon seeing the familiar text on the cover, she immediately knew what it was.

"The other research groups already finished their assignments? That quickly?"

"Yes, all done. This is the condensed and revised version compiled by the Medical College. They trimmed a lot, but even so, it’s still fairly detailed."

The document contained thorough cultivation, processing, and medicinal recipe details for five new rare herbs, including snow lotus, moon-facing grass, and full moon plant. The level of detail encapsulated a year’s worth of overtime contributions from the entire research team.

It weighed more than gold.

Tang Shu paused for a moment of contemplation. "Are you asking me to review it?"

But that didn’t seem quite right—if the Medical College had already printed this as a template, it should soon be distributed anyway.

Professor Yu smiled. The gray streaks in his hair seemed even more prominent under the sunlight. "The contents have already been verified by Professor Chen and me; no major issues. I needed you for a different matter."

"Go ahead."

"These herbs are exceptionally rare, and currently, only your Tang Village has managed to cultivate them successfully. The Medical College wants you, under your alias ’She and Yu,’ to record a few videos on the processing techniques. I’m here to hear your thoughts on this."

When he mentioned this, Professor Yu’s gaze carried a tinge of amazement. He still found it unbelievable that the once-talented student he had taken under his wing had reached such heights.

What had he said at the time? Something about asking the young woman to call him ’master?’

Recalling his earlier impulsive words, Professor Yu felt his face heat up. If Tang Shu had actually agreed back then, it would’ve been utterly embarrassing—for in her journey of learning traditional medicine, she had not only exceeded all expectations but had also often given him fresh inspiration.

Good thing she never called him that...

Tang Shu’s focus remained on the document in her hands, not noticing Professor Yu’s increasingly conflicted expression.

"Sure, it’s no big deal."

Most Medical Colleges were already using educational videos under her alias, explaining medicinal herbs. Adding a few more wouldn’t take much extra time.

Professor Yu had anticipated this answer and nodded in satisfaction.

"Thank you. The Medical College says you can directly join the research department after graduation, and they’ll even reserve a position for you."

"Uh... I actually prefer to take the exams myself."

As for the job offer, Tang Shu thought she might enjoy working independently more.

But for now, she decided to hold back from saying so—lest Professor Yu find it hard to accept...

"Planning to try this year?"

"Yes, I’ve been preparing and will register along with my classmates in the second half of the year."

"That’s a good idea. Go for it—the exam shouldn’t be too difficult for you. By the way... about the Gu insects—I heard a few old friends mention it during Lunar New Year. What’s the story?"

Hearing this, Tang Shu thought to herself, No surprise, the traditional medicine circle is indeed small. She also marveled at Professor Yu’s knack for staying informed.

She selectively disclosed what was appropriate to share, engaging in an exchange of ideas with the senior scholar regarding the use of Gu insects in medicine.

By the time Old Madam Yu called them to dinner—she had prepared smoked meat and fungi Tang Shu had brought over—the setting sun was already dipping below the horizon.

***

At the end of January, the Medical College released a groundbreaking announcement that left the entire medical field stunned.

As for this year’s students, whether they were undergraduates or pursuing their third year of graduate studies, their initial shock quickly gave way to collective despair. The universal reaction was akin to the expression from the famous painting *The Scream.*

Something big had happened! The curriculum had been updated—again and again and again and again!!!

"This is the end of me! Wasn’t it bad enough to endure textbook changes the year before last—and again last year? Now it’s happening all over again at the start of this year?!"

"What kind of karmic debt did our batch rack up? Why does everything keep landing on us?"

"And the worst part? This time, there’s more than 200 pages..."

"This isn’t a curriculum revision—it’s practically an entirely new book!"

"Say no more, my friend. Time to hit the books."

"We just started the semester, but why does it feel like we’re back in the gauntlet of the college entrance exams? Tell me this isn’t real!"

"Hey, stop wailing, people. You think your stress level matches ours? We’re already drowning in the original material, and now comes a whole new book!"

.....

Thus began the widespread "who-has-it-worse" contests across medical schools, shining a blatant spotlight on academic misery. And somehow, Tang Shu’s name kept popping up among the contributors—though she was merely one of more than a hundred involved in compiling the content—making her the primary target of many students’ pent-up grievances.

Unnoticed, the pity contest gradually morphed into something else. By the time Tang Shu learned about the latest development from Cheng Ranran, a *bounty order* had already been issued.

"What’s a bounty order?"

Is this supposed to be some martial arts drama?

Upholding the fine tradition of asking when in doubt, Tang Shu earnestly sought clarification from Ye Xiaohui.

Ye Xiaohui gave her a cryptic smile, full of foreboding mischief.

"Think of it as a grand paparazzi ambush outside your doorway."

"???"

I’m pretty sure there’s a generation gap between us.

"Speak plainly."

"Better you see for yourself."

Ye Xiaohui logged into the campus forum and tossed her phone to Tang Shu. Tang Shu started scrolling, her eyes scanning page after page of student comments, the weight of their collective resentment nearly leaping off the screen.