After Spectating Gossip, the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Big Shot – CH18

Chapter 18

Since the incident involving Yuan Qingqing, the “Gossip System #10086” account has become a kind of holy grail for internet gossip lovers.

When Gossip System’s bombshell post had demanded that Meng Yuansheng and Cheng Xin’s live stream reach a popularity of 1 million viewers, many speculated that the account owner must be someone from Meng Yuansheng and Cheng Xin’s company—or perhaps just an ardent fan.

But as the account gradually went silent, people’s attention shifted to other scandals.

Unexpectedly, Gossip System had returned, and it came back with a huge reveal.

The post claimed that not only had Meng Yuansheng never plagiarized Jiang Mo, but most of Jiang Mo’s lyrics over the years had actually been written by Meng Yuansheng. The staff member who previously spoke out, Li Fang from Jiang Mo’s studio, had accepted bribes to smear Meng Yuansheng’s reputation.

The post detailed suspicious moments from two years ago, when Jiang Mo had appeared on a cultural variety show. He’d been exposed as lacking basic knowledge, fumbling over a question about a famous phrase—a phrase he had supposedly referenced in one of his lyrics. Strange, right?

The post also listed other instances, most of which could still be found online in various show clips, interviews, and talk shows.

Viewed individually, these moments seemed minor, but when compiled, they revealed Jiang Mo’s lack of cultural depth, an image he could no longer hide.

[I knew it! Jiang Mo never seemed remotely cultured, but somehow his lyrics are always brimming with artistry. I once mentioned this, and his fans told me it was “hidden depth.” I had no idea hidden depth could be spun like that!]  

[LOL! If he doesn’t know such simple words, how did Jiang Mo have the audacity to maintain the “genius lyricist” persona? Doesn’t he realize that every genius persona ends up crashing and burning in this industry?]  

[I was a casual Jiang Mo fan before. Every time he released a new song, I was obsessed—especially with the lyrics. I even copied them into a notebook! But I was always indifferent to him personally and used to tell myself I loved him for his “soul.” Now I know I loved the soul, just not his. No more to say—I’m off to vote for Meng Yuansheng!]

*

Meanwhile, Jiang Mo returned to his dressing room after filming wrapped and angrily trashed everything on the table.

“It must be that scumbag Meng Yuansheng who leaked this!”

“Enough!” his agent snapped, exasperated. “Now isn’t the time to blame him; we need to fix this!”

“You said the same thing last time!” Jiang Mo snarled, but then, recalling something, his face paled. “Li Fang—are you sure he won’t turn on us?”

The agent responded confidently, “He won’t. There’s no evidence. And if he speaks up, he’ll never work in this industry again. He’s not stupid; he knows where his interests lie.”

Jiang Mo reluctantly calmed down but still muttered, “It’s all because of that Gossip System! If it weren’t for them, Meng Yuansheng would have been eliminated ages ago!”

He couldn’t help but wonder aloud, “Do you think that Gossip System is working for Meng Yuansheng’s company?”

“You mean Leshi Entertainment?” His agent frowned. “Impossible. If LeShi were that powerful, they wouldn’t be stuck in that rundown office building, looking like they’re about to go bankrupt.”

Jiang Mo said, “It can’t seriously be his fans, can it?”

Jealousy welled up as he thought about it. Why didn’t he have fans that devoted?

The agent looked at Jiang Mo with a twinge of regret. If he’d known that the real talent was Meng Yuansheng, he’d never have invested so much in Jiang Mo.

“Things aren’t as bad as they seem,” the agent said, calming down. “All the claims in that post are just speculation. There’s no concrete proof. The only way for Meng Yuansheng to prove it is to sue you. A lawsuit would be long and complicated, and he’s too busy with the competition to bother. By the time it’s over, this whole mess will have blown over. We’ll throw some money at it to bury the story, just like we’ve done before…”

But even as he said this, a sense of unease began to gnaw at him.

Just then, his phone pinged.

When he opened it and saw a new post from Gossip System #10086, his pupils contracted, and his phone slipped from his hand, falling to the floor.

*

At nine o’clock that evening, Su Qizhou completed his final delivery for the day. He parked his motorbike by the roadside, pulled out a cold, hard bun he had saved from that morning, and began to eat, washing it down with some water.

The early summer breeze rustled the leaves above him, carrying with it the sounds of cicadas, a couple quarreling, and the warm, bustling energy of the city.

Su Qizhou closed his eyes and, with his right hand, traced invisible notes in the air, one after another.

A beautiful melody began to take shape in his mind, and he opened his eyes, eager to play it on his guitar.

Then he looked down, only to see his dusty motorbike.

The smile on his lips faded. He lowered his gaze in quiet resignation.

He’d forgotten—he’d sold his guitar.

Su Qizhou had loved music since he was a child, but his family was poor, and he had started working right after middle school.

Eventually, he’d saved enough to buy the cheapest guitar he could find and taught himself to sing and compose. Creating music brought him immense joy, and he dreamed of composing forever.

One day, he’d stumbled across an interview with Jiang Mo, who spoke of his journey as a composer, saying he empathized with aspiring artists in difficult situations and was willing to support them.

Gathering his courage, Su Qingzhou sent Jiang Mo his two best songs through email.

But he never received a reply.

Disheartened, he thought his work might not be good enough. That was, until he heard Jiang Mo’s new album and recognized one of his songs—Jiang Mo had spliced together Su Qingzhou’s two compositions.

Su Qingzhou was stunned.

In a daze, he listened to the song on repeat. The familiar notes, crafted through countless hours of painstaking practice, were embedded in his soul.

It was his song.

Jiang Mo had stolen it.

Furious, Su Qingzhou used all his savings to sue Jiang Mo.

When Jiang Mo’s team heard about the lawsuit, his agent visited him in person, loftily informing Su Qizhou that he’d never win. And even if he did, who would believe that someone with just a middle-school education was the real composer?

Su Qizhou refused to give up. But he exhausted his savings, fell into debt, and gained nothing.

He’d considered accepting his fate, but he could never let it go.

A few days ago, someone had approached him and asked if he was willing to come forward and accuse Jiang Mo publicly.

Without hesitation, Su Qizhou agreed.

He hadn’t expected much to come of it, but he had nothing left to lose. Even a one-in-a-million chance was worth it to get justice.

But as days passed without any follow-up, Su Qizhou had nearly forgotten the encounter.

After finishing his bun, he decided to take a few more deliveries, but then his phone started buzzing furiously.

Confused, Su Qizhou opened his notifications and saw “99” in red on his Weibo app. When he clicked on it, messages flooded in, almost crashing his old phone.

After a while, he finally managed to open his private messages, and as he read the words of encouragement and support, he pieced together what had happened.

He clicked on Gossip System #10086’s latest post.

It laid out the entire story of how Jiang Mo had stolen his song, complete with screenshots of Su Qizhou’s emails, notes on the creative process, and even the threatening messages from Jiang Mo’s agent.

[Holy crap! I’m seething! How can someone be as despicable as Jiang Mo?!!!]  

[I’m a lawyer. I’ll represent you pro bono. @SuQizhou]  

[Found Su Qizhou’s Weibo. I listened to both songs, and they’re genuinely amazing. Way better than Jiang Mo’s Frankenstein mashup!]  

[Hang in there, man! Your talent has finally been recognized. You’re going to go far!]

…

Su Qizhou stared at each reply in disbelief.

The pent-up pain and gratitude surged in his heart.

The man who hadn’t shed a tear through it all suddenly hugged his knees and sobbed.

At the same time, [Boy Group Training Camp] released an official announcement: due to health reasons, Mentor Jiang Mo would be leaving the show.

Soon after, one of Jiang Mo’s biggest fans publicly renounced her fandom and disbanded her fan club.

This felt like the signal for a landslide, and the once-powerful Jiang Mo collapsed overnight.