After Spectating Gossip, the Entertainment Industry Thinks I’m a Big Shot – CH27

Chapter 27

That night, news of Yan Luoyuan’s arrest spread like wildfire across the internet.

Reports said that the scene was shockingly scandalous—so much so that even the police, who’d seen it all, took some time to peel everyone apart and get them loaded into the police vans.

Zhu Xin, Yan’s manager, was dragged out of bed by the news, feeling like his life was over. He cursed Yan’s inability to control his urges while also cursing the anonymous tipster for being so meddlesome.

But that was for later. Right now, his priority was to get Yan Luoyuan out of custody.

He scrambled through every connection he had, but to his utter dismay, he still couldn’t get Yan released.

Meanwhile, the story was spreading like wildfire online, and Yan’s fanbase was starting to crack. At this rate, even if he managed to get Yan Luoyuan out, his career might be beyond saving.

So, while trying to pull strings, Zhu Xin was also busy sending legal threats to gossip sites and appeasing fans.

But no matter how connected he was, he couldn’t outmaneuver the state authorities.

And asking Yan’s patron for help was out of the question.

At first, he thought it was Yan Luoyuan’s rivals who’d set him up. But as the situation progressed, no competitors seemed to be making any moves. Besides, while Yan was a playboy, he was usually careful about where he went and who he was with—always picking discreet locations and surrounding himself with tight-lipped friends. How had anyone found out?

Could this really be just bad luck, getting caught in a police sting?

Zhu Xin didn’t believe in coincidences like this.

But who could have orchestrated this?

As he racked his brain in frustration, a timid assistant who usually went unnoticed raised his hand cautiously, “Brother Zhu, I… I think I might know who’s behind this…”

“Out with it!” Zhu snapped.

The assistant spoke up, “Do you know that really popular Weibo account, ‘Gossip System #10086’?”

Zhu Xin’s brows knit together.

The name sounded familiar, but he’d dismissed it as just another gimmicky marketing account.

The assistant continued, “That account knows tons of insider gossip. Song Yang, Jiang Mo, and LightWing’s Cao Guangli—when they went down, it was all because of them. I’ve heard the person behind it is a fan of two contestants from the talent show…”

The more Zhu Xin listened, the more something clicked. “What are the names of those two contestants?”

The assistant replied, “Oh, it’s Meng Yuansheng and Cheng Xin—the same two who filmed that ad with brother Yan.”

Zhu Xin’s eyes widened in shock.

The assistant, unaware of the grudge between Zhu and those two, offered, “Brother Zhu, maybe we could contact those two contestants and see if they can connect us to this #10086 person. Maybe…”

Before he could finish, he saw Zhu Luoyuan’s face contorted with rage, and he jumped back in surprise. “B-Brother Zhu, what’s wrong?”

Grinding his teeth, Zhu Xin demanded, “Are you saying this #10086 person is a fan of Meng Yuansheng and Cheng Xin?”

The assistant, sensing something was off, nodded carefully. “Yes… That’s right.”

Zhu Xin slammed his fist on the table.

It all made sense now.

After the ad shoot, he’d investigated Gu Xingshi and the tiny company behind him, LeShi Entertainment, and found they had no major backers. Realizing he’d been bluffed by a rookie manager, he’d been furious. So, he’d decided to teach Gu a lesson by invoking Director Ning’s name.

He’d figured even if Gu Xingshi found out, there was nothing he could do. But instead, Gu had come back at him with this vicious scheme.

As Zhu Xin seethed, he noticed the assistant looking like he wanted to say more. Annoyed, he snapped, “What now?”

The assistant, having pieced together the story from others, looked pale but forced himself to speak up, “It’s about that #10086 guy. If he’s really the one who tipped off the police, judging by his usual tactics, this won’t end here…”

Right then, someone else exclaimed, “#10086 just posted on Weibo!”

Zhu hurriedly opened his phone, searching for the account, but the moment he clicked on it, a chill ran down his spine.

Gossip System #10086: [Hosting a silver party after cozying up to a rich sponsor—today’s ‘campus heartthrob’ is really living it up!]

The internet went wild.

Everyone knew that when the #10086 account posted, it meant major dirt was coming.

[OMG, heard there’s fresh tea, and I came running!]

[Holy crap, this is juicy! But who’s the ‘campus heartthrob’?]

[YLY??]

[Who?? Can you please stop using initials? For those of us not deep into entertainment gossip, it’s like being a confused raccoon in a grapevine!]

[Yan Luoyuan, right? I heard rumors he got arrested.]

[No way! I used to love him after that campus drama he did!]

In no time, the hashtag about Yan Luoyuan’s silver party skyrocketed to the trending list.

Yan’s fans were still in denial, rushing to defend him.

[Don’t believe the rumors! Luoyuan is a clean and honest actor!]

[Poor Luoyuan. Just because he’s so talented, everyone wants to throw mud at him!]

[Who did our boy offend to get smeared with such a charge? They’re really trying to ruin him!]

[I’m pissed! @GossipSystem10086, who exactly is this ‘campus heartthrob’? Can you stop being so cryptic already?!]

[I don’t believe it’s Luoyuan. @YanLuoyuan, don’t worry, sweetie, your fans believe in you!]
*

Under pressure from fans clamoring for more information, Gossip System #10086 quickly posted a follow-up on Weibo—only for it to mysteriously get flagged and taken down.

Zhu Xin exhaled deeply, feeling a surge of relief as he hung up the phone.

When he saw the first post, he’d felt a looming sense of doom. He wasn’t sure how this 10086 person managed to dig up such detailed insider information, but if these rumors got out, Yan Luoyuan’s career would be over.

In a panic, Zhu had mobilized his army of fake accounts to report the post. Given his years of collaboration with Weibo, they managed to suppress it—at least for now.

If he could just get through the night, they could drown out the scandal with other gossip, and over time, people would lose interest.

Besides, he figured Yan’s case wasn’t that serious; once Yan was released and appeared before his fans, the issue would blow over.

This was Gu Xingshi’s first time dealing with such a situation. He tried posting multiple times, adjusting the content each time, but each post was blocked. It finally dawned on him that he might have been shadowbanned.

He’d heard Yin Hefeng mention this sort of thing before, but this was his first time experiencing it himself.

So, he immediately reached out to Weibo’s customer service to appeal.

The responses he received were automated and circular, evading any resolution.

Meanwhile, fans online were growing impatient as they waited for the promised gossip, and the fake accounts Zhu had deployed were beginning to shape the conversation, slowly turning public opinion.

[Came here for the juicy gossip, but it’s been forever, and we haven’t even seen a hint of it. Feels like we’re just being strung along. I’m out!]

[People are already speculating who this ‘campus heartthrob’ is, and innocent celebs are getting dragged in. Just because your little idol needs a boost, doesn’t mean other people aren’t human too!]

[I thought #10086 was different from other gossip accounts, but turns out it’s just the same clickbait nonsense!]

Seeing the complaints, Gu Xingshi didn’t panic. He thought for a moment and sent Weibo customer service a private message: “If you keep this up, I’ll just take my scoop to another platform and expose your favoritism too~”

Weibo Customer Service: “…”

A few minutes later, his long-post finally went live.

In it, Gu Xingshi shared the less-than-savory details of Yan Luoyuan’s private life. He described how Yan’s manager arranged patrons for him, his penchant for organizing “silver parties,” and his visits to certain places when traveling overseas. Gu had deliberately used subtle and polite language to avoid censorship, but the content was explosive nonetheless.

The post caused Weibo to crash momentarily, giving it all the prestige of a headline-grabbing scoop.

[My eyes!! My poor eyes!! I didn’t expect such a huge scandal this early in the year!]

[This is the life of a top celeb? I guess it’s jam-packed!]

[#10086 is back in top form! This gossip is clear, direct, and absolutely on point. None of that cryptic nonsense here! And the fact that they provided dates and locations—this is just… chef’s kiss! I’m in tears!]

[I’m just… blown away. Seriously, how does he keep his hair looking so healthy after all this? I’m an exhausted college student, and I need his hair-care secrets!]

Yan’s fans had been holding out hope until the Beijing police’s official Weibo account confirmed receiving a tip-off about an actor named “Yan,” who had been detained for administrative violations.

The age and details matched exactly, leaving little doubt that the actor in question was Yan Luoyuan.

The fan community exploded in shock.

While some die-hard fans clung to the hope that it wasn’t Yan, more rational fans began quietly unfollowing.

Zhu Xin sat slumped on his couch, unable to shake his sense of dread.

How had things escalated like this?

How did this #10086 person know so much? Who exactly were they?

Zhu Xin had previously dismissed the fan rumors swirling around #10086’s identity.

He’d never believed anyone would go to such lengths to protect someone else’s interests for no personal gain.

There had to be a connection between #10086 and Meng Yuansheng or Cheng Xin.

His mind immediately went to Gu Xingshi.

But that didn’t make sense!

If Gu Xingshi had that kind of power, how could LeShi Entertainment be the struggling, near-bankrupt company it was?

Such resources required serious financial backing.

Just then, something clicked.

Zhu rushed to his computer and began reviewing Meng and Cheng’s journey.

They’d joined the talent show [Boy Group Training Camp], a joint production by Xingyao Media and Orange Video.

During the competition, when Meng was falsely accused, the show had even created a special challenge round, where Meng had outperformed Jiang Mo and won public support.

And later, these two rookies—who hadn’t even debuted—somehow became brand ambassadors for Tianxuan Youth Line.

In every instance, one common thread stood out: the Wen family.

Wen Yue.

That was it!

Besides Wen Yue, who else had both the wealth and connections to access such insider information?

The realization struck Zhu Xin hard, but it only left him more confused.

With Wen’s status, why would he go to such lengths over something like this?

Unless…

Zhu recalled the way Gu Xingshi had spoken to him during their argument.

A manager from a small, struggling company wouldn’t have dared to be that bold without serious backing.

Regret washed over Zhu as he connected the dots. If Wen Yue was indeed behind Gu Xingshi, then he had truly stepped on a landmine.

And Wen Yue’s discreet but thorough way of supporting Gu Xingshi—without flaunting their connection—didn’t just hint at interest. This was clearly something deeper.

This wasn’t just admiration. This was love. The kind of love that makes a person lose their head.

Zhu’s mind raced, both anxious and unsettled.

No, he had to be absolutely sure about this before making his next move.

He scrolled through his contacts, pausing when he reached a particular name.

Yes, he’d start with him.

*

Sun Hongfei was on a winning streak lately. [Boy Group Training Camp] was soaring in popularity, and Wen Yue had even praised him.

The higher-ups were hinting that, if all went well, his position might be upgraded by year-end.

For someone of his age and background, this kind of promotion was rare.

But luck had been on his side when he crossed paths with Gu Xingshi.

Of course, it wasn’t just luck. His keen observation skills had been crucial too! Noticing clues about Gu’s identity and resolutely aligning himself with him had been the smartest move he’d made. If he’d been careless and dismissed Gu that first day, he might’ve found himself fired the next day.

Just then, Sun’s phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing slightly, but he picked up. “Old classmate! What’s up?”

Zhu Xin, ignoring Sun’s distant tone, eagerly chatted with him about old times.

They had gone to the same university together.

When Zhu Xin had first started working, he’d been close with Sun Hongfei, but after his artists gained popularity, he gradually distanced himself as he rose in status.

After a round of nostalgia, Sun’s tone softened. “So, what exactly did you need?”

Zhu paused, then asked directly, “Is it true that your CEO Wen has a thing for Gu Xingshi?”

“How did you…” Sun, momentarily caught off guard, almost blurted out the truth. Fortunately, he caught himself and replied, “What nonsense are you talking about? CEO Wen doesn’t even know Gu Xingshi, let alone have feelings for him!”

But Zhu, already halfway there, only needed that slight slip. Sun’s deflection only confirmed his suspicions further.

This was bad news.

Zhu immediately understood that Yan Luoyuan’s career was done for.

And if Yan was finished, his own downfall wasn’t far behind.

Zhu was well aware of the underhanded tactics he’d used over the years to climb the ranks. If even half of his actions were exposed, he’d be lucky to avoid prison, let alone continue working in the industry.

There was no wishful thinking here. Everyone knew that Wen Yue was ruthless in business, and those who crossed him faced nothing short of ruin.

For years, Wen Yue had shown no special treatment to anyone, maintaining a reputation for cold detachment. People like him—cold and restrained—were the type to go all in when they finally let someone into their hearts.

Zhu had no illusions about escaping unscathed.

To save himself, he had to cling to Director Ning for dear life.

*

On the other end, after hanging up the call, Sun Hongfei felt a growing sense of unease.

He’d heard about the scandal involving Zhu Xin’s artist, but why would Zhu come to him for information about Gu Xingshi and CEO Wen instead of dealing with the crisis?

The more Sun thought about it, the more he suspected something was wrong. He immediately sought out Gu Xingshi to relay the details of his conversation with Zhu. Remembering his promise to keep CEO Wen and Gu Xingshi’s connection a secret, he omitted the part where Zhu Xin had specifically asked about their relationship, saying only that Zhu seemed to be prying into Gu Xingshi’s background.

Gu Xingshi frowned as he listened.

Originally, he hadn’t planned to go after Zhu Xin so soon. Unlike Yan Luoyuan, Zhu Xin was cunning and hadn’t left many loose ends.

But since Zhu was digging into his affairs, Gu Xingshi decided to respond accordingly.

System, Gu called, [keep an eye on Zhu Xin and let me know if anything noteworthy comes up.]

System: [Got it!]

Gu Xingshi set the matter aside for now, focusing on his current priority: reaching Ning Wenzhuo.

However, just as the system had warned, Wenzhuo was exceptionally cautious. His wariness allowed him to stay under Ning Tianyou’s radar, but it also made it challenging for Gu Xingshi to approach him.

Even after Gu Xingshi revealed the truth about his parents’ deaths, Ning Wenzhuo suspected it was a trick by Ning Tianyou and acted perfectly oblivious.

Had the system not briefed Gu Xingshi on Wenzhuo’s true nature, he might have believed Wenzhuo to be nothing more than a useless playboy.

Unfortunately, he lacked solid evidence to convince Wenzhuo, leaving their communication at a standstill.

At that moment, the system suddenly piped up: [Host! Fresh scoop!]

Gu Xingshi straightened up. [Let’s hear it.]

System: [Due to Yan Luoyuan’s recent troubles, Ning Tianyou has been quite displeased with Zhu Xin. To appease him, Zhu went all out, finding a pair of twins and setting them up at his place for Ning Tianyou to ‘enjoy’ when he drops by.]

Gu Xingshi: “!!!”

That scumbag would never change!

But for Gu Xingshi, this was a golden opportunity.

He immediately messaged Ning Wenzhuo: [I can prove my sincerity.]

Wenzhuo replied quickly: [?]

Gu Xingshi: [In the next few days, Xingmao Media might experience some turbulence. If you’re interested, this could be your chance to act.]

Wenzhuo: [I don’t know what you’re talking about.]

Gu: [No problem. Just keep an eye on the trending topics and the police reports over the next few days.]

Wenzhuo: [??]

But Gu Xingshi left it at that.

He’d given Wenzhuo all the hints he needed. Though Gu Xingshi sympathized with Wenzhuo’s past, he had no desire to coddle someone who continued to hesitate.

If Wenzhuo chose to stall, so be it. Gu Xingshi was prepared to go it alone, even if it meant the process would take a little longer.

A gentleman’s revenge could wait a decade if needed.

Smiling at the thought, Gu Xingshi pulled out a new phone and dialed a familiar number. “Hello, is this 110? I have another tip…”

*

Zhu Xin was bending over backward to make sure everything was perfect for Ning Tianyou’s arrival at his apartment.

Ning frowned as he entered, his gaze skeptical. “Are you sure it’s safe here?”

Typically, Zhu Xin would arrange such meetings in hotels or Ning’s private properties, but after Yan Luoyuan’s scandal went public, the addresses of those properties had been exposed as well—a fact that had thoroughly annoyed Ning Tianyou.

If not for Zhu Xin’s promise of a “rare twin treat,” he wouldn’t have agreed to come at all.

Zhu immediately replied with a fawning tone, “This is my personal place, Director Ning. Completely secure.”

Once inside, Ning’s mood lifted as he caught sight of the attractive twin brothers Zhu had arranged.

Seeing the approval on Ning’s face, Zhu decided to broach his other reason for inviting him over. “Director Ning, actually, there’s a huge secret I wanted to share with you tonight!”

But Ning was already too caught up in his own interests, brushing him off. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

Zhu Xin quickly interjected, “It’s about Wen Group—and Director Wen himself.”

That finally got Ning’s attention. He paused, turning toward Zhu with interest. “What did you say?”

Zhu leaned in and dropped the bombshell. “I’ve discovered that Director Wen has a man he’s deeply in love with.”

Ning scoffed, bursting into laughter. “Impossible!”

After all, he’d dealt with Wen Yue many times and knew well how ruthless and calculating he was. To Ning, Wen Yue was more of an inhuman demon than anything else.

Imagining someone like Wen Yue falling in love with anyone was as absurd as believing the world would end tomorrow.

But Zhu Xin pressed on, “I’m positive. The man’s name is Gu Xingshi—he’s a manager at a small entertainment company…”

Initially skeptical, Ning found himself taking the matter more seriously as Zhu continued to explain his findings.

Finally, Zhu played his trump card. “You know the account Gossip System #10086, right?”

Ning’s expression darkened.

Of course he knew it. His own StarCat trainees had taken a major hit because of that account.

Although he hadn’t cared much about the small company involved, the incident had been a public embarrassment for him. And then, as if that hadn’t been enough, the Yan Luoyuan scandal had dragged him into another mess.

Two massive humiliations—both thanks to this #10086 account. Ning had burned with resentment, but despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to trace the account back to its owner.

That’s when Zhu delivered his final blow. “The person behind Gossip System 10086… is none other than Wen Yue himself, and he’s been using it to protect his lover.”

Zhu Xin proceeded to lay out his reasoning, and even Ning Tianyou had to admit that everything lined up almost too perfectly.

If that wasn’t a sign, what was?

So, the cold-hearted “Demon King” Wen Yue was actually hiding a soft spot.

Ning’s mind whirled with possibilities, and a pleased smile spread across his face. Having discovered Wen Yue’s Achilles’ heel was immensely satisfying.

With a grin, he wrapped an arm around each of the twins and headed into the bedroom, where the sounds of their encounter quickly became uncomfortably loud.

Zhu Xin finally felt at ease. With this arrangement, he was sure he’d secured his place.

He stepped out to wait in the hallway until Ning was finished.

But just as he opened the door, he was met by a squad of police officers.

“Good evening,” one of the officers said. “We received a tip-off about suspected illegal activities here. We’ll need your cooperation.”

Zhu’s jaw dropped. “!!”

Was this really happening again?

He turned to shut the door, but it was already too late.

Within minutes, Ning Tianyou, barely dressed, was dragged out by the police, spewing curses.

Rage and humiliation burned in Ning’s eyes.

Damn it! To resort to such despicable, underhanded tactics!

Wen Yue, this means war! I won’t rest until I’ve brought you down!