Chapter 7
The livestream chat was in absolute chaos.
[HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA]
[HOLY SH*T HIS NOSE IS ACTUALLY CROOKED—IT REALLY MOVED!!]
[An eye for an eye, a beak for a nose! LMAO!!]
[Lin Rui fans, open your eyes and see what kind of garbage you’re stanning!]
[Dude’s eyes rolled back so hard LMAO I can’t breathe—THIS IS PURE GOLD. I’m making a GIF right now!]
[New meme unlocked.]
The sparrow, having avenged itself, immediately flew back to Fang Huai’s palm.
Fang Huai curled his fingers slightly, gathering the birds close, and without hesitation—he turned and ran!
His movements were quick and decisive, his legs long and agile, and he knew the terrain like the back of his hand. With a swift, fluid motion, he leaped down the dirt slope and disappeared within seconds.
Lin Rui was so furious he wanted to scream—but the target of his rage had already vanished.
Meanwhile, the livestream chat was still on fire, but soon after, the screen suddenly went dark—
The stream cut off.
The viewers were stunned.
Then, realization dawned—
Lin Rui’s phone had run out of battery.
After waiting a bit longer and confirming that the stream wasn’t coming back, people gradually began leaving the livestream room.
Although 200,000 people had witnessed the event, on a national scale, that was still a relatively small number.
Lin Rui’s PR team reacted fast.
Before netizens could compile and spread the full story, his publicity team rushed to buy bots to bury the negative comments, creating total chaos on Weibo—
Some people claimed Lin Rui was a fraud, while others insisted he had been set up.
[??? Can someone explain what the hell is happening?]
[No clue… I’m just standing here, completely confused.]
[Lin Rui is the real victim here! That impersonating bastard is disgusting!]
[LMAO, Lin Rui’s delusional fans are still in denial?]
[Our poor Rui Rui was framed, his livestream was sabotaged—that copycat is such a shameless leech!]
[I NEED A HIGH-QUALITY RECORDING OF THAT LIVESTREAM. That boy was insanely gorgeous, I swear!!!]
[I NEED AN AUDIO CLIP TOO. OMG, his voice was so dreamy I felt it in my bones.]
[I had a meeting and missed the livestream… What the hell happened? Who are the paid bots, and who’s telling the truth? Damn, this is frustrating.]
Because the livestream had suddenly cut off—and thanks to the shocking twist at the end—Weibo and various forums had turned into a chaotic mess, with people arguing every possible angle.
Lin Rui’s PR team moved fast.
They knew they had lost ground during the livestream, but they weren’t about to give up. After all, their opponent was just some poor kid from the countryside.
Before netizens could piece together the full truth, marketing accounts flooded the platforms with articles, trying to control the narrative:
“Was Lin Rui Set Up?! Let’s Discuss How Many Celebrities Have Been Targeted by Strangers in Recent Years.”
“Lin Rui Wasn’t the Only One Harassed During a Livestream—This Star Faced It Too!”
“People Need to Learn to Walk on Their Own Before They Can Grow—A Message for Those Who Only Know How to Imitate.”
“Is Lin Rui Going Through a Streak of Bad Luck? A Feng Shui Master Shares Tips to Turn Things Around.”
For those who actually watched the livestream, this was completely absurd—the truth had been plain as day.
Some users posted recordings of the livestream, while others analyzed the sound frequencies, proving that Lin Rui’s singing voice was completely different from the one in the viral “street performance” video.
But before their arguments could gain traction, waves of paid bots flooded the comments, burying the truth.
Weibo was in utter chaos, and public opinion slowly started shifting in Lin Rui’s favor.
Then, Lin Rui himself posted a Weibo update:
[Lin Rui in Diet (Verified)]: Sorry guys, my phone died, so the livestream cut off halfway through. I’ll make it up to you next time.
I’ve explained this over and over, but some people still don’t believe me?
I was the one in the street performance video.
I get it—some people really love my song, and that’s fine. But isn’t it a little rude to interrupt my livestream just to prove a point?
Anyway, I won’t name names. Just watch this clip and judge for yourself. [Video]
The attached video was a recording taken at the registration booth for Stellar Light (a talent competition).
It showed a young boy sitting upright, singing—and the song was the exact same one from the viral street performance video.
His face was blurred, but many people immediately recognized him—it was the same boy from the livestream.
In the clip, a staff member quickly accused him of copying someone else.
The boy, clearly taken aback, opened his mouth as if to explain—
And then the video abruptly ended.
With a mix of paid bots and confused bystanders, the comments exploded:
[His singing is so awkward… And it’s not even in the same dialect?]
[Exactly! That’s why this is obviously a setup. Smh.]
[LMAO, was that staff lady a Lin Rui fan too? ]
The moment that video dropped, public opinion, which had been wavering, shifted back in Lin Rui’s favor.
Lin Rui’s team was fully prepared—from the marketing accounts to the paid bots, everything felt like it had been orchestrated in advance.
And that one misleading clip was enough to sway the clueless masses.
Meanwhile, those who knew the truth—those who supported Fang Huai—found themselves helpless.
Without a powerful voice to back them up, their words held little weight.
They could do nothing but sit there, frustrated.
[I’m about to explode with rage. HOW is this happening?! The truth is right in front of them, and they still refuse to believe it!]
[The sound frequency doesn’t even match! Lin Rui’s fake, high-pitched voice? He wishes he had the talent to pull off that performance.]
[I HAVE the full livestream recording, but the platform won’t approve my post… F*ck, I’m so mad!!!]
[Honestly, Lin Rui is playing this “thief crying thief” game like a pro. Twisting the truth? Masterfully done.]
*
The Turning Point Came That Night.
Because the Summer Davos Forum was being held in Nan City, the city had been buzzing with high-profile events. Last night was a charity gala, and tonight, there was a charity auction—with various media outlets closely following the action.
Five minutes before the auction began, a Bugatti Veyron arrived fashionably late.
The reporters—who had been ready to wrap up for the night—suddenly snapped back to full attention.
…As far as they knew, there was only one person arrogant enough to pull up to this kind of auction in a 30-million-yuan supercar.
A bodyguard dressed in black opened the car door.
The first thing that came into view? A pair of Berluti custom leather shoes.
Then, long, straight legs.
Finally, a man under thirty, a Cannes-winning actor, stepped out in a perfectly tailored silver-gray suit—an uncharacteristically proper look for him.
A single-button jacket, notched lapels, a vest underneath—the impeccable fit of the high-end custom suit emphasized his striking physique.
And as if the sharp attire wasn’t enough, Feng Lang had even thrown on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, the delicate frames resting on the bridge of his nose.
His light-colored, almond-shaped eyes were half-lidded, carrying a hint of lazy amusement, while his thin lips curved into a subtle smirk.
At that moment, four words flashed through everyone’s mind—
A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Of course, no one actually said that out loud.
But their feet moved fast.
The flashes of cameras lit up the night sky, and in the blink of an eye, dozens of microphones were shoved in front of Feng Lang’s face.
“How do you respond to the rumors about you and a certain rising starlet?”
“There’s talk that you’re already living with a top actress—is that true?”
“You mentioned Lin Rui twice on Weibo. What are your thoughts on him?”
“Can you clarify—”
Feng Lang casually removed his gold-rimmed glasses, twirling them idly between his fingers.
Though surrounded by countless flashing cameras, he seemed entirely uninterested—his half-lowered gaze obscuring the beautiful light-gold hue of his irises.
Half a minute passed.
Then, with a slight shrug, Feng Lang raised a hand in a ‘pause’ gesture and said,“You’re all too noisy. Can you quiet down a bit?”
His voice was distinctive—rich, deep, and velvety, like a cello, carrying a husky undertone that gave it an intimate, almost seductive quality.
Though his tone was light, there was something in it that sent a chill down people’s spines.
Then, something almost unbelievable happened.
Just seconds ago, the scene had been a chaotic mess—but the moment Feng Lang spoke, the noise gradually faded.
All that remained was the rapid clicking of camera shutters.
“…Mhm.”
A glimmer of amusement flickered in his pale-gold eyes.
Feng Lang nodded, his tone casual and unhurried:
“Kid, what was your question again?”
The young reporter he had addressed froze, momentarily stunned—Then, his face turned bright red from sheer nervousness.
“A-Ah? Me?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, I… I asked…”
The reporter gulped, then managed to stammer out—
“You mentioned Lin Rui twice on Weibo. What are your thoughts on him?”
Feng Lang Fell Silent for a Moment—Then Suddenly Laughed.
His laugh was captivating.
The soft golden hue of his almond-shaped eyes shimmered, carrying a lazy amusement with a hint of mockery beneath the surface.
Twisting his phone absentmindedly, he spoke in an offhanded manner:
“Mm… He’s a hardworking kid.”
“Hardworking?” The reporter was momentarily stunned.
“Yeah.”
Feng Lang shrugged, his almond eyes curving slightly, a smile playing at his lips.
“Landed at North Airport at exactly 4 PM yesterday, then managed to rush to the South Suburbs to start street performing by 4:10. That’s some serious dedication.”
The crowd: “……”
The crowd: “???”
The reporter was completely dumbfounded.
But before anyone could press further, Feng Lang had already stepped into the auction hall, escorted by his bodyguards.
The interview clip was quickly uploaded to the internet.
No one had expected yet another twist in the situation.
Just when it seemed like public opinion had fully shifted in Lin Rui’s favor, the narrative spiraled into chaos once again—this time in under thirty minutes.
[Wait, wait…]
[How did I overlook this giant loophole??? This is a fan-taken airport photo from exactly 4 PM. [Image] This is a screenshot from the ‘street performance’ video taken during the livestream. [Image] There’s only a ten-minute gap— even the fastest transportation from North Airport to the South Suburbs takes at least 30 minutes!]
[@LinRui, please explain.]
However, since the timestamps on the livestream and airport photo weren’t entirely conclusive, a portion of netizens remained undecided.
[The airport photo’s timestamp isn’t rock solid. The timing is vague. I’m staying neutral for now.]
[My heart hurts. Can Film Emperor Feng stop giving these D-listers free clout?]
[Neutral +1. Waiting for definitive proof.]
[Hugging Rui Rui tight. Why is this Feng guy always targeting him? Is it fun? If you’re flopping, don’t drag my Rui Rui down with you.]
[Sis, excuse me, who’s flopping? Look at this Cannes trophy. Your fave won’t even sniff this in ten lifetimes. [Image]]
*
Then, Ten Minutes Later—
A verified Weibo account posted.
[Ye Yuyuan (verified)]: Testing the new AI function, 4th generation. [Video]
For a brief second, Weibo fell completely silent.
And then—
[WHO?! WHO??? My husband has a Weibo account?! Are you lying to me?!]
[No doubt about it! As a longtime Ye CEO simp, I can confirm—this username looks humble but screams dominance. This cold, elite vibe. This default no-nonsense profile picture. This concise, straight-to-the-point speaking style. It’s my father, Ye Yuyuan!!!]
[I checked that ‘Verified’ mark 20 times. It’s not fake. It’s officially verified. OH MY GOD.]
[Ye CEO, if I call you ‘Dad,’ would you respond?!]
[WAIT. STOP FREAKING OUT. WATCH THE VIDEO. THIS. THIS IS THE ULTIMATE PROOF WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!]
[Proof? What proof?]
[THE PROOF THAT LIN RUI FAKED EVERYTHING!!!]
[HOLY SH*T. I’M DEAD.]
At first, most people thought the video was just a normal AI technology demo.
Curious about the latest advancements, they clicked in casually—
…Only to be completely blown away by its content.
The screen started pitch black.
Then, a mechanical AI voice spoke.
“I call this new technology ‘Awakening,’” the AI stated flatly.
“No, please don’t let your imagination run wild. I am not referring to waking up Sleeping Beauty. I mean awakening—the truth hidden within an image.”
A brief pause.
“When seeking the truth, missing surveillance footage is often a major obstacle… isn’t it?”
This “street performance video” incident is a prime example.
The airport surveillance footage of Lin Rui getting off the plane had been deliberately deleted in advance, and the exact time of deletion was no longer traceable. Meanwhile, Fang Huai’s street performance took place in the southern suburbs—a remote area where surveillance cameras had long stopped functioning, and even when they did work, the resolution was insufficient. Otherwise, reviewing the footage would have made it clear who the street performer actually was.
The AI paused for a moment, giving people time to process the information before continuing:
“But I can ‘awaken’ them. Even if they are scrapped or have stopped working, I can retrieve all surveillance footage from that period.”
“Amazing, isn’t it? The specific technology has already been publicly disclosed and certified by international patents. I will now provide a brief explanation…”
“…That’s the basic principle. Now, let’s take a look at my first piece of recovered footage.”
The first recovered footage was from a surveillance camera in the southern suburbs, precisely at 4 PM the previous day.
By sheer coincidence, Fang Huai had been standing very close to the abandoned surveillance camera during his performance.
From the “awakened” surveillance footage, it was clear that the street performer was not Lin Rui. The person, dressed in slightly worn work pants and carrying a backpack, had striking but rebellious features—it was Fang Huai, the very person many had mocked for imitating Lin Rui!
At this point, many of Lin Rui’s supporters grew indignant again—after all, technology could be used to create fakes. Who could say for sure how authentic this seemingly real video actually was?
“Alright, I suspect some people will call me a fraud,” the AI’s mechanical voice chimed in at the perfect moment. “I’ve heard about the online dispute over the past two days. To verify everything, I used certain known technical methods to recover the surveillance footage that was intentionally deleted.”
The first video was from the airport when Lin Rui got off the plane. Coincidentally, he had landed precisely at 4 PM. At first, he wasn’t wearing a mask, and his face was clearly visible. Not only that, but the AI had retrieved an entire sequence of footage tracking Lin Rui—from disembarking, getting into a car, and heading to his hotel. At no point did he ever go to the southern suburbs.
Considerately, the AI had blurred Lin Rui’s face, but anyone could still recognize that it was him in the footage.
Finally, imitating Lin Rui’s usual tone on social media, the AI posted:
“Some people must really love that song. That’s understandable. But outright claiming someone else’s work as your own and then accusing the original creator of imitation—don’t you think that’s a little rude?
I won’t name names, but after watching this surveillance footage, I believe you can judge for yourselves.”
By this point, many people were already shaken to their core.
From all angles, the implications of this video were enormous—whether as evidence, a counterattack, or…
“Huh?”
Everyone suddenly noticed that there was still a small section left on the progress bar. Just as they were wondering about it, an unexpected voice rang out—
Cold and indifferent, deep and mature, rich and magnetic, unbelievably pleasant to the ears:
“Mr. Lin, you’re absolutely right—
“The innocent will always remain innocent.”
There was a hint of mockery in the otherwise calm tone.
The video ended, and for a full thirty seconds, Weibo was completely silent.
[Holy crap…]
[Was that…?]
[It sounded like…?]
[CEO Ye’s voice??!]
Weibo exploded!
Author’s Note: Wrapping this up quickly—onto the next arc!
