Standing Firmly by Her Side
Wen Yin's gaze slid slowly from the laptop screen to Shao Yinan's face.
"Don't tell me you didn't know," she said, the last syllable tipping up like a question and a tease. "So those nasty comments—they weren't cleaned up by some anonymous mole. It was you, wasn't it?"
A smile unfurled across Shao Yinan's eyes the instant the words left her mouth.
"When did you figure it out?" he asked.
He'd acted fast—practically the moment that influencer uploaded her video, he'd ordered his team to remove any damaging comments about Wen Yin. He hadn't expected her to catch on so quickly.
"It's simple." Wen Yin let go of the hand she had been holding and rested her fingers back on the keyboard. Her voice was almost calm as she stated the obvious. "Because only you would stand behind me so steadfastly."
Shao Yinan's brow quirked, almost imperceptibly.
They'd been together nearly a year. It had taken him that long to show her this one truth: in front of him, she didn't need to walk on eggshells, didn't need to worry about every little thing. He would be her only rear guard. She needn't think she would be a burden.
"Yes," he said softly. "I'll always stand by you."
He reached out and steadied her slight frame. "This afternoon Xiao Cheng already received a lawyer's letter."
Wen Yin looked at him, startled.
"It wasn't sent in my name," he continued. "It was sent in yours—Wen Yin."
Wen Yin's surprise deepened. Shao Yinan never doubted, never assumed he was the one people accused of plagiarism. When choices presented themselves, he always sided with her—once, twice, a dozen times over.
"Wen Yin." Her lips were dry; she pressed them together. Her throat tightened and a stray ache rose to her eyes.
"I like you so much…" The small quaver in her voice was swallowed by Shao Yinan before it vanished.
He cupped her face gently; his peach-colored eyes held her without blinking. "I've told you—I'm the one who will always believe you."
"And there are others, too," he added. "Your friends. They'll stand with you."
His large, strong fingers brushed away the tears at the outer corner of her eye. He could feel that despite nearly a year with him, the faint, stubborn traces of insecurity still clung to her. Her inner self was sensitive and fragile, always fearful of being the one left behind—so different from the outwardly tough woman she presented. He'd tried to protect her for a year; it hadn't been easy, and progress had been slow.
His steady, earnest gaze moved something in Wen Yin. The redness at the corners of her eyes faded. "The people we choose will always be on your side," Shao Yinan said deliberately, each word measured. "We will never abandon you."
"And I'll keep coming to you, no matter what. Believe me. I'll give you more of the safety you need."
Wen Yin almost drowned in the warmth of those eyes.
Before long, a new post appeared online—it was Wen Yin's Weibo. She had uploaded nine images, stitched together into long screenshots. They documented, in meticulous detail, every spark of inspiration since she began making short videos: every store she scouted, the preparations before each visit, her favored editing techniques, and the scripts she alone had written. She even included comparison screenshots of publishing times.
It turned out she'd preserved images from when she'd watched the other creator's videos and had kept records of her own ideas and timestamps. The timeline was clear: Wen Yin's release preceded Xiao Cheng's by nearly half a month.
Xiao Cheng had hidden her own video early on—claiming she didn't want to expose her "wounds" to everyone—but Wen Yin's evidence told another story. If both claimed identical camera moves and shot lists, and Wen Yin published first, the answer was obvious.
Netizens quickly pieced it together and swarmed Xiao Cheng's video.
"Your upload is half a month later—how dare you accuse Wen Yin of stealing from you?"
"Is Wen Yin some kind of time traveler? Did she steal from the future?"
"What are you even imagining?"
"This lady is just trying to ride on Wen Yin's fame. It's pathetic."
"Knowing Wen Yin's celebrity status, she must have thought she could get clout by faking this."
"Apologize. Now."
The comment section filled with outrage. Xiao Cheng, an ordinary person who hadn't endured so many lashes of the public eye, watched the storm erupt on her screen. Panic rose in her like bile. She paced the room, then curled on the floor and cried, overwhelmed.
Then she remembered something and wiped her face, dialing the number she shouldn't have hesitated to call.
"Miss Qi?" she said once the line connected. "I've released the post like you told me, but—what are you going to do about the fallout? Aren't you supposed to take responsibility?"
On the other end, Qi Siran laughed, as if someone had told an absurd joke. After hearing Xiao Cheng's fumbling account, she couldn't help it—her mirth turned sharp and cold.
"So you mean to tell me you screwed this up, got caught, and can't prove Wen Yin stole from you," Qi said. "And Wen Yin even turned the tables on you?"
Her smile carried a hard edge. "What do you expect me to do now?"
"I want you to help me turn it around," Xiao Cheng blurted.
Qi's laughter got louder—icier. Tears of amusement threatened the corners of her eyes. "You did this to yourself and you expect me to clean your mess? I paid you enough. Why should I keep bailing out a stupid teammate?"
Xiao Cheng bit her lip, voice trembling. "You told me to do it. You said you'd back me. Shouldn't you be responsible?"
"Responsible?" Qi echoed. "For what? I gave you money to handle it. If you couldn't, that's on you. You're really a terrible partner."
Xiao Cheng gritted her teeth and tried one last thing. "If this goes public the way the netizens say, the Qi family will be in a scandal. We could both—"
Qi's eyes narrowed. "You think you can threaten me? Try it." Her tone turned menacing. "If you let this slip and make me look bad, I'll make sure you can't stay in this city. I'll make your life impossible."
A chill ran down Xiao Cheng's spine. From the start, this path had been a dead end—a fact she ought to have seen coming.