Chapter 47: Dating Rumors
Cen Chi came out of the bathroom, pushing his damp hair back as he asked, “Chu Li, were you calling me just now?”
“Mhm, wait a sec—someone’s knocking.”
Knock knock—
The knocking at the door continued.
Chu Li threw on a T-shirt and casually opened the door. It was one of the contestant managers. He asked, “Eh? Is there another reshoot today?”
There had been one time before when they were called early around 7 or 8 in the morning to do a reshoot.
The manager standing outside glanced into the room, then lowered their head and spoke softly, “We’re looking for Yue Zhaolin. He has… an external engagement.”
External engagement?
Chu Li turned and called, “Zhaolin, someone’s here for you.”
Meng Yu, who had just stepped out of the bathroom as well, overheard and spoke up, “…An external engagement? The second public performance song selection is tomorrow. Will he make it back in time?”
As he spoke, he looked over at Yue Zhaolin.
Was this arranged by Xingqiong?
“We’ll see then,” Yue Zhaolin replied, closing the book Basic Music Theory and stuffing the last bite of bread into his mouth, his cheeks puffed up.
After chewing, he picked up a carton of milk and stuck a straw into it. “Let’s go,” he said.
He was talking to the manager.
·
Yue Zhaolin carried with him the scent of bread, and Xiao Chao caught a whiff of it. Her stomach, which had stayed tense and empty all night, suddenly reacted.
She swallowed hard. Her throat was dry—like sandpaper scraping inside.
“Sister… I don’t have any external engagements, right? Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“……”
Yue Zhaolin’s voice seemed to come from very far away. Only then did Xiao Chao realize what he had just said. She suddenly looked up.
Bloodshot eyes and dark circles under them were proof of her unease.
And Yue Zhaolin had seen it.
“You…”
Yue Zhaolin: “That matter… does it have something to do with me?”
Xiao Chao trembled all over. She clenched her fists tightly. “……”
She hadn’t slept all night. She’d made up her mind—not to let herself be manipulated by Duanmu Hongxue’s threats, not to become a scapegoat for that despicable person.
Xiao Chao had considered exposing everything on Weibo, making it all public. But Duanmu Hongxue’s company supported him and would surely suppress the trending tags.
Even if the topic caught fire, she was the victim—but not the perfect victim.
When the scandal broke, what would spread more widely than the news itself would be her photos. And her evidence was limited—she wasn’t sure it would be enough to take Duanmu Hongxue down.
After weighing her options, Xiao Chao decided to confess everything to Yue Zhaolin—to fight capital with capital.
But she couldn’t help fearing how Yue Zhaolin would react—because he was a man too.
When he heard that she was coerced because of those kinds of photos, how would he look at her? What kind of expression would he show?
Yue Zhaolin seemed respectful toward women, but Xiao Chao still fell into a spiral of doubt and fear—Was that respect just part of his public persona?
Just like how Duanmu Hongxue used to sweet-talk her.
“…Sister?”
Xiao Chao snapped back to reality.
Yue Zhaolin said, “Let’s find somewhere quiet.”
He usually practiced late into the night, and in order not to disturb his roommates while showering, Yue Zhaolin had applied to use an empty dorm room.
No one lived on that floor. The rooms didn’t have surveillance, though there were cameras at both ends of the hallway.
Yue Zhaolin left the door wide open, then walked ahead and entered first. He pulled out a chair and sat down—the legs scraped against the floor with a faint screech.
“—!”
He had once been a girl, so he understood all too well the discomfort and tension a girl might feel being alone with a strange man in an enclosed space.
Xiao Chao was stunned. “……”
Behind her, the door remained open—she could turn and leave at any time. Yue Zhaolin, tall and broad-shouldered, sat down, keeping a noticeable distance between them.
Xiao Chao closed her eyes briefly, forcing down the heat welling up in them, then said in a low voice, “Duanmu Hongxue… he’s planning to spread false rumors about you. Yesterday, he…”
Xiao Chao explained everything from beginning to end. Her voice, initially trembling, gradually steadied. When she finished, she looked up as if awaiting judgment, watching Yue Zhaolin’s expression closely.
“Scumbag.”
Xiao Chao: “…Huh?”
Yue Zhaolin blinked. “I’m insulting him.”
Using a girl’s private photos as leverage—despicable character, vile tactics.
Xiao Chao was briefly stunned, then quickly nodded. “I know. Just didn’t expect…” —that Yue Zhaolin would use such blunt, unfiltered words.
Yue Zhaolin said, “Sister, since this involves me, I’ll contact the company. What do you want to do? Do you want the photos back, or…?”
He was offering to help however he could.
Xiao Chao slowly said, “Thank you. But I want him to try threatening me again. I’ll record it, keep the evidence, and report him to the police.”
“I want to ruin him.”
Yue Zhaolin smiled. “Good.”
…
Xiao Chao was a straightforward person.
That’s exactly why Duanmu Hongxue had been so sure of himself—because she was too honest. Being in a relationship with her felt like being nagged by a housekeeper. That’s why he had found her boring.
That day, he saw Xiao Chao returning with Yue Zhaolin and pulled her into a corner. “You went out with him? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Xiao Chao replied, “You told me to lure him somewhere without surveillance, but he doesn’t even know me. I figured I should show up a few times first, get him used to seeing me.”
So that’s what it was.
Duanmu Hongxue sneered inwardly. As expected from someone so dull—cautious and timid, needing prep work just to get started.
“When are you planning to make your move?”
Xiao Chao lowered her head, pretending to hesitate.
Duanmu Hongxue immediately panicked—he had already made arrangements with his company.
The preliminary exposés were paid for and lined up, the hired trolls and smear pieces were in place—all that was left was the final push.
Xiao Chao couldn’t afford to mess this up.
—
Yue Zhaolin returned just a little over an hour after he left. Chu Li was surprised by how quickly he came back. “Your external engagement ended that fast?”
“I talked with the company. It wasn’t really worth the effort, so we scrapped it.”
Chu Li: “Damn, worth the effort? What are you doing, comparison shopping now?”
Yue Zhaolin, amused, asked, “Oh, right—what were you looking for Cen Chi for earlier?” Then he added, “If it’s something personal, I’ll keep out of it.”
“It’s not really personal… it’s just, the online drama,” Chu Li said.
“If Cen Chi’s fan community doesn’t start pushing some positive direction soon, something’s going to blow up.” That’s what Chu Li’s manager had told him on the way back.
And sure enough, the words proved prophetic.
But the storm that followed didn’t just drive Cen Chi into a corner—it ended up dragging down nearly half the upper-tier contestants with him.
—
At the Haicheng airport, people showed up with banners to “greet” arriving contestants. That wasn’t unusual.
What was unusual were the words on the banner:
“Welcome home, the King of Beasts / Nightclub Male Escort / Ugly Gay Chu / Crown Prince of Drama / Duanmu Hongxue’s Woman!”
In one sentence, it managed to include five derogatory nicknames.
Unlike the usual “Welcome home, [idol]’s girl” banners used to express affection, this one was blatantly mocking. And it was unfurled deliberately in a crowded, public space—uncomfortable to witness, let alone experience. It was baffling: if they hated these people, why go out of their way to joke using their black tags?
Someone took photos and posted them on Weibo. The fandoms involved—already in the middle of vicious arguments—completely exploded at the sight.
“‘Nightclub male escort’ is the slur Cen Chi’s fans use for Tan Shen. Who do you think pulled that banner?”
“There’s always drama online, but this is the first time I’ve seen it escalate to real-life banner stunts. So disgraceful…”
“Why would anyone bring a banner like that to the airport? Do they think it’s funny? It’s actually disgusting.”
“Is this supposed to be an offline anti-fan move? Gross…”
Cen Chi’s major fans were stunned. In their private chat groups, they might gossip about Yue Zhaolin behind closed doors, but they would never say anything publicly—they didn’t dare cross Tide, his fandom.
So there was no way they were the ones who brought that banner.
But no one else believed them.
Conveniently—almost too conveniently—marketing accounts had just started dropping gossip about the upper-tier contestants of Starlight. The banner drama quickly became ammunition in fan wars.
Yue Zhaolin’s rumored romance — #YueZhaolinInALoveScandal
Tan Shen’s job rumors — #TanShenNightclubMaleEscort
Chu Li’s ambiguous sexuality — #ChuLiConfessedToByMen
Fu Xunying’s alleged dating history — #FuXunyingSecretAccountLikesHotGirls
Almost all of it was baseless gossip.
The entire top circle was in shambles.
After the show’s re-edit, Starlight’s views had been climbing steadily, drawing more and more attention—so the more fans argued, the hotter the topic became.
Under the hashtag #YueZhaolinInALoveScandal, the feed was full of vague, speculative posts:
“Why are there no old photos of Yue Zhaolin? Because back in school, he partied too hard. The company cleaned it all up for him.”
“Why does Yue Zhaolin attract so many fangirls who fantasize about dating him? ‘Cause he has dated a bunch of people before.”
“Why do guys take shirtless pics showing off their abs? You know the answer—either to attract girls or guys. Clearly, he took it for his girlfriend.”
“He’s way too skilled at the balloon shooting game. How many girlfriends has he gone to the arcade with? How many giant plush toys has he won and gifted? Lmao.”
Even though it was all just speculation and innuendo, it still managed to grab a massive amount of attention.
People were always eager to deify someone—and just as eager to tear that “god” down from the altar.
Yue Zhaolin’s perfection became a kind of falsehood, an unrealistic mask. Once they found a crack, they seized on it, desperate to shift the narrative.
“Finally someone said it. I could tell from his face that he’s a player.”
“Didn’t there used to be rumors about Yue Zhaolin dating and b*llying people? No one mentioned them again, I thought I was the only one who remembered.”
At the same time, some took the chance to stir the pot:
“Tide fans are pros at covering things up.”
“Not even debuted yet, and already being hyped as the #1 idol in C-ent? What a joke.”
Xu Mingmei, a diehard fan and battle-hardened anti-rumor warrior, was naturally on the frontlines:
“Take screenshots for evidence and send them to Xingqiong’s official email!”
She’d heard other fandoms did the same—it helped the company collect evidence for potential lawsuits.
While she was fighting rumors, she was also fuming. Yue Zhaolin was just minding his business at home, and out of nowhere, the drama came crashing down like a meteor.
Initially, Tide, Yue Zhaolin’s fanbase, hadn’t planned to get involved in the online mudslinging—because the fan group was already swamped:
The most important thing: voting.
Some fans were enthusiastically churning out fan art and edits.
Others were completely addicted to Bilibili and Douyin fan content.
Several fan groups had teamed up to custom-order bobblehead standees of Yue Zhaolin to be handed out for free at the next public performance.
His international popularity was still climbing—multiple translation accounts had been created to capture and translate rainbow comments in every language.
The supertopic was full of newly edited photos and fan-made analysis of tiny, adorable details.
Tide had been this busy since the moment they opened their eyes each morning—how dare people still find time to spread rumors?
Did they not know how to read the room?
And the timing of these rumors was way too strange. Was Xingqiong doing anything about it?
Just as Xu Mingmei was thinking that, #YueZhaolinInALoveScandal hit the trending chart on Douyin—the one platform that was the hardest to control.
Xu Mingmei: “……”
She braced herself and tapped in.
The first video had over 30,000 likes. It was a screenshot of the trending topics, with several keywords circled in red.
The Douyin user had captioned it: [Can Yue Zhaolin and his fans stop being so clingy already?]
Xu Mingmei: “…?”
[Last time there was that trending tag at the fan meet—‘Yes, we’re dating’—I was so excited thinking it was a real romance scandal. Turns out it was just shipping between Yue Zhaolin and his fans (though honestly? Pretty sweet).]
[Now it’s another ‘dating’ rumor? I bet it’s more fanservice.]
Xu Mingmei: “…Ahem.”
Right—that tag had blown up during the last fan meet.
Yue Zhaolin had been helplessly smiling at the Tide fans below the stage, completely unable to deal with them. The expression he made was so charming that the bullet comments filled with:
“Yes. That’s right. We’re dating.”
Because of Yue Zhaolin’s styling and expression that day, it hit exactly the right notes of charm and attraction—and went viral.
That phrase had since evolved into a fandom in-joke, used especially by dream-girl fans (fans who fantasize about dating the idol). And now, even fans from other circles had adopted it.
So now that this “dating rumor” had resurfaced in the trending topics, many netizens weren’t even taking it as gossip—they were just assuming it was more romantic fanbait.
The comments below the video were chaotic:
[Not a fan, but I’ve been secretly enjoying this “idol × fan” dream pairing for a while now. It’s so sweet I’m practically drooling. What’s the ship fuel this time?]
[This time it’s a real scandal.]
[What scandal? Wait—don’t tell me the fans are pulling that cringey abstract “actually it’s me who loves you” trope again? (Cautious side-eye)]
Xu Mingmei: “…?”
Wait a minute—this was weird. What kind of image did Tide have in the eyes of Douyin users?
[…No seriously, it’s real this time!]
[The entire upper-tier circle from Starlight is caught up in it—it’s blowing up on Weibo.]
[All of them? Is this legit? Can the show even go on like this? The key person is Yue Zhaolin, right? If he goes down for real, the whole show’s over.]
Xu Mingmei was about to reply when she scrolled down and saw a comment posted just two seconds ago:
[It is a scandal—but not about Yue Zhaolin. He’s just being used as a shield. Go search Weibo for #DuanmuHongxueExGirlfriendStatement.]
She refreshed again—
Reply: [No need to search… it’s already #1 on trending.]