When they stepped out of the café, all four of them looked utterly defeated.
The plan had been simple: arrange a private meeting with Wen Yin, lay out the truth, play the wounded party a little, and make her withdraw the lawsuit. They didn’t expect Wen Yin to be sitting on so much evidence—recordings, transaction records, everything. She’d even unmasked the person pulling their strings.
No wonder they’d bolted.
Now they stood on the sidewalk, faces blank with panic. The first to lose her composure was one of the female streamers. “So what do we do now?” she demanded. “Wen Yin’s dead set on suing us. If the fans dig this up, how are we supposed to survive on these short-video platforms?”
Everyone else wore the same expression—like ants on a hot griddle, frantic and clueless. Finally the male streamer spoke. “Whatever happens, we can’t turn over the person behind us.”
At the thought of what would follow he broke into a cold sweat. Wen Yin’s evidence could at most get them sued, maybe land them with some minor charges. But if the person they protected decided to act—there’d be no simple outcome for them.
The usually quiet female streamer surprised them by speaking up. “For now, play it safe. Tell her the truth about our situation. And stay off livestreams. Keep an eye on Wen Yin.”
They could smear Wen Yin online from their streams—but she could do the same back. Better to avoid giving her openings.
They all nodded, half-understanding. There was nothing else to do.
Wen Zhi was at a beauty salon when she got the message. Lately she’d obsessed over restoring herself to the way she looked before going to prison—there was still a long war to fight with Wen Yin, and she refused to be the first to show age. The thought that Wen Yin’s face hadn’t changed at all drove her white-hot with resentment. That woman must be hiding some miracle regimen.
As she brooded, her phone vibrated. Reading the message set her blood boiling. “Worthless fools,” she spat. They couldn’t even handle such a small task—now she was supposed to pick up the pieces for them? If Qi Siran found out they’d messed up again, what judgment would he pass? The image of his crooked smile made a cold sweat run down her spine.
No matter what, the plan had to go on.
It wasn’t long before Wen Yin’s name lit up the trending list again. Dozens of gossip accounts pounced. This wasn’t just any performer—she was the girlfriend of top-tier star Shao Yinan, so the rumor mill went into overdrive: had she secretly been backed by a financier besides Shao? Was that how she had blown up so fast after switching to short videos?
The speculation spread quickly. People were outraged and gleeful in equal measure.
But the trend barely lasted a few minutes before it was pulled down. At the same time Shao Yinan—who’d been mostly quiet on social media lately—posted on Weibo with a single callout: “So when did my girlfriend get another backer I don’t know about? @WenYin”
Wen Yin answered almost immediately. “Is there a twenty‑fifth hour of the day when Shao Yinan isn’t glued to me?” she wrote, playful and unbothered. She didn’t just refute the backer rumor—she tossed out an affectionate public moment that wiped the floor with the gossip.
Fans ate it up. The couple shippers sprang into action, piecing together the real story and dumping screenshots, receipts, and long, stitched-together images to debunk the slander. One familiar fan account, a long-time supporter who’d backed them since the dating show days, posted everything in a neat, irrefutable thread.
“Rumors end with the wise,” the fan wrote. “Be sensible, and those who maliciously dragged Wen Yin—apologize.”
That post rallied a flood of responses. Fans tagged the four influencers again and again. The four who’d started the rumors went completely silent—some even stopped logging into Weibo, afraid of the avalanche of angry messages. Why stick around to receive abuse?
Wen Yin’s legal team moved forward as planned; she intended to fight this to the end.
When Li Xiangwei heard the news, she thumped the table in irritation. “Your luck is just cursed,” she said. “Wherever you go, Wen Zhi clings like gum. How do you shake someone like that off?”
Wen Yin didn’t hide anything—she told Li who’d been behind the smear: Wen Zhi. Li’s dislike of Wen Zhi, born back in the dating-show days, only deepened.
“We’re actually putting together a banquet with several top food influencers on your platform,” Li said suddenly. “Want to come?”