Chapter 48: Like he was looking at trash
Because there were people pulling strings behind the scenes, as soon as the hashtag #Yue Zhaolin is in a relationship appeared, nearly all the marketing accounts posted about it, creating massive exposure.
As for the other trending topics, they were just distractions—smoke bombs. Today’s netizens aren’t so easily fooled, so a few decoys are thrown out first.
But compared to Yue Zhaolin’s trending topic, those smoke bombs were nothing. They wouldn’t cause real damage, but could still hurt the few people involved just enough to stir up fan drama.
You have to leave people a way out—there’s no need to truly offend that many industry peers.
In reality, Yue Zhaolin’s trending topic didn’t even have solid evidence. It only contained some vague and ambiguous claims from a so-called classmate, shared via a WeChat screenshot.
Step one in a smear campaign: aggressively push the narrative to plant a seed of suspicion among netizens.
Once the photos are ready, the next phase begins. The delay in between is actually Vision Entertainment, Duanmu’s company, testing the waters.
Yue Zhaolin’s sudden rise obviously disrupted the entertainment industry’s status quo. Other capital forces are watching—do they really have no thoughts? Of course they do.
So this was essentially his company sending out a signal: “We’re about to target Yue Zhaolin. Any allies? Want to join in?”
Just because they couldn’t find dirt on Yue Zhaolin doesn’t mean others can’t. And even if there really isn’t any—well, the “kick them while they’re down” mentality has always worked, throughout history.
Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth. Flood the feeds with marketing, and it becomes easy to throw mud on Yue Zhaolin. Once he’s stained, it’ll be hard to clean off.
But just as Duanmu Hongxue and his company were waiting for others to join in and add fuel to the fire, the first move came instead—from Xingqiong, who had already prepared a full counterattack.
…
In the blazing-hot trending feed, a comment from a small alt account suddenly appeared:
[Duanmu Hongxue, are you smiling while reading this trending topic?]
[Can’t beat Yue Zhaolin, so you resort to spreading sleazy rumors. That’s just your style.]
At first, that Weibo post was drowned out in the real-time feed—but with so many gossip-hungry netizens around, anyone who saw it immediately dropped a question mark in the comments.
[?!]
[A melon within a melon?!]
[Wait a second, who’s Duanmu Hongxue?]
—In the replies:
[Duanmu Hongxue is a trainee who joined Starlight with Yue Zhaolin.]
[Oh, still don’t know him. That’s the downside of going deep into gossip—getting forced to learn the names of washed-up nobodies in showbiz. (Sigh)]
[The only highlight of these has-beens’ careers is getting publicly exposed.]
[Girl, you’re savage. I love it.]
[Is the tea legit though? I looked him up—his vote count isn’t even a fraction of Yue Zhaolin’s. Competing with Yue? Something’s not right here. (points at head.JPG)]
[Where’s the poster? Got more receipts or just dropping one bomb and running?]
Of course there was more.
But it had to be done step by step.
Xingqiong’s PR team polished the expose draft that Xiao Chao had prepared—enhancing the emotional punch without losing its raw authenticity.
Then, using the alt account, they posted a long-prepared tweet from the drafts folder:
“Yue Zhaolin might not even know this yet, but a man named Duanmu Hongxue decided to secretly compete with him in a masculine rivalry, lost on his own, and then broke down on his own. He broke down so badly that he even coerced his ex-girlfriend—who worked on Starlight—to abuse her position and frame Yue Zhaolin…”
When this post hit the trending page, Duanmu Hongxue felt like his head exploded. His pupils contracted sharply as he cursed:
“Damn it. That bitch!”
No wonder she hadn’t replied to his messages this morning—and her supervisor even said she had quit and left the company.
She actually dared to expose him.
Duanmu Hongxue wasn’t just burning with rage—he was also deeply unsettled, furious that a woman he had always looked down on had turned around and outplayed him.
How dare she?!
Blinded by anger, he immediately wanted to upload photos of Xiao Chao to international platforms. But the bathroom Wi-Fi was terrible—it just kept loading.
“F*cking useless internet!” he cursed, kicking the toilet in frustration—only to slam his foot into a pipe and hit the bone. The pain twisted his face instantly.
Bzzzt—
His phone buzzed with an incoming call.
Duanmu Hongxue glanced at the number. Feeling as if divine help had arrived, he gritted his teeth and answered despite the pain: “Hello, brother, that b*tch Chaoyang just posted on Weibo—”
“The company already knows. It won’t be hard to suppress it. But there’s something we need to confirm first—does she have anything on you?”
Duanmu blurted out, “How could she possibly—”
But then stopped himself. Xiao Chao used to be obedient, but now… he wasn’t so sure.
He couldn’t guarantee it.
And he couldn’t say for certain.
He hung up, swallowing down a sense of dread.
He’d hunted geese all his life, only to get pecked in the eye by one—and maybe even lose a chunk of flesh.
He didn’t want to admit it.
He still had those photos of Xiao Chao. Girls were always wary of things like that, so before the company negotiated with her, she probably wouldn’t act rashly.
Yes, that must be it.
Trying to calm himself, Duanmu forced his expression into something neutral and walked out as if nothing had happened to go get his makeup done.
After the first elimination round, there were still 64 contestants left. Getting everyone styled was a massive task, so filming wouldn’t officially start until 1 p.m.
Maybe it was guilt, or nerves, but Duanmu Hongxue kept feeling the urge to check in on Yue Zhaolin.
But Yue Zhaolin, like him, had his own private dressing room. There was no way to see him.
“Duanmu Hongxue, are you free right now?”
Duanmu Hongxue glanced in the mirror and saw Cen Chi standing at the doorway. He clicked his tongue impatiently.
“What do you want from me?”
Then, a thought flashed through his mind.
“Wait a second.”
He waved the others out of the room, pulled Cen Chi inside, and shut the door behind them.
Cen Chi was always stuck to Yue Zhaolin—maybe he could squeeze some information out of him.
But before Duanmu Hongxue could say a word, Cen Chi spoke in a calm, heavy voice: “That welcome banner full of insulting nicknames—your company put it up, didn’t they?”
“…What banner?” Duanmu Hongxue tried to play dumb.
“You don’t have enough fans of your own to stir up drama, so you shift the conflict onto mine and others. Clever move.”
Duanmu Hongxue’s face twitched.
‘Damn it.’
Cen Chi let out a short, cold laugh.
“You’ve been pissed at Yue Zhaolin for a long time now, haven’t you?”
“At the fan meeting, you claimed you were allergic to alcohol, then turned around and used my fans’ name to call him by his antis’ nickname. Thought you covered it up pretty well, huh?”
“You think you can drag Yue Zhaolin down?”
“Forget it. Xingqiong’s backing him, his fans love him, and in terms of looks, personality—everything—he beats you without even trying. His path is wide open and full of light.”
“Want to crush him? Try again in your next life.”
Duanmu Hongxue’s face flushed red, his eyes bulging like a frog’s.
Blood rushed to his head, and he swung his hand at Cen Chi’s face.
Cen Chi didn’t dodge.
He took the punch squarely.
But just as Duanmu Hongxue was about to throw a second one, Cen Chi’s fist shot out like lightning and slammed into Duanmu Hongxue’s gut.
Duanmu Hongxue’s eyes bulged: “Ugh—”
The pain knocked the strength out of his entire body.
Cen Chi looked down at the man curled up on the floor, face twisted in pain.
“Weren’t you pretty tough when you used my fans as a weapon?”
“I… I’m gonna… call the cops…” Duanmu Hongxue gasped.
“Did you forget?” Cen Chi tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth and glanced at the surveillance camera in the corner.
“This was self-defense.”
“You—!” Duanmu Hongxue sputtered.
He watched as Cen Chi walked away. It took him quite a while before he could get up again, drenched in cold sweat.
—
In the dressing room.
Yue Zhaolin was scrolling through his phone.
#Duanmu Hongxue’s ex-girlfriend speaks out had hit the number one spot on the trending chart.
[Duanmu Hongxue used improper means to coerce his ex-girlfriend into framing Yue Zhaolin.]
The key phrase was “coerce,” not the specific details of how he coerced her.
That way, the damage to Xiao Chao could be minimized.
Xingqiong had also reached out to other women Duanmu Hongxue had dated—both regular people and influencers—and half of them willingly offered to help expose him.
Today was just the beginning.
On the other end of the call, Liu Li reminded him, “By the way, don’t pay attention to that small portion of negative comments.”
Some people on Douyin insisted on the saying: “Flies don’t land on uncracked eggs.”
In their eyes, if there’s a dating rumor about Yue Zhaolin, then he must really be dating.
And those comments had quite a few likes.
Even though Douyin was Yue Zhaolin’s stronghold, it wasn’t a complete echo chamber.
And this time, a few dissenting voices had slipped through.
Liu Li said, “Honestly, those people don’t truly believe you’re dating anyone. They just enjoy the contrarian thrill of going against the crowd.”
“They’re not your potential fans anyway. So just ignore them. The more you respond, the louder they get.”
Xingqiong’s top priority right now was to clear up the scandal and stabilize the fanbase.
Liu Li added with a cheerful tone: “Also, in just one week, your first magazine cover will be going on presale.”
Pre-sales for magazines were standard practice in the entertainment industry—printing quantities were determined based on the number of pre-orders.
The current benchmark for top-tier celebrities hovered between 200,000 to 300,000 copies. For Yue Zhaolin, hitting that range would be more than enough.
It could’ve gone even higher, but his fanbase was already spending heavily on voting for him, so they probably wouldn’t allocate too much money for a magazine. Still, after the recent emotional turmoil, fans would likely be more eager to support him—so 200 to 300 thousand copies was a realistic estimate.
Yue Zhaolin nodded, “Director Liu, do magazines these days usually include photocards?”
“Yes, they do. Why?”
Yue Zhaolin had a feeling Tide would buy in bulk. That made him want to pack in more freebies they’d like.
“The photocards we shot earlier—can we include them?”
Those priest-themed photocards they had taken earlier were originally meant for his debut album. Liu Li had planned to save them for that because they’d maximize sales impact.
“I’ll think it over and get back to you.”
“Okay.”
…
After hanging up, Yue Zhaolin changed into the standard white t-shirt provided by the show. On his feet were sneakers from a foreign sportswear brand sponsoring the program.
At this point, practically every part of Yue Zhaolin’s body was an advertising slot.
After finishing up, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and suddenly thought: “Maybe… I should try a new hair color sometime?”
And once he had the thought, the itch to do it only grew stronger.
Just then, Tan Shen knocked on the door and came in—only to see Yue Zhaolin tossing his hair in the mirror.
“What are you flipping your hair for? That hairstyle’s already handsome enough. Let’s go.”
Tan Shen had just skyrocketed to second place and had heard plenty of jealous whispers. It was impossible not to feel affected.
But his daily life was dull, his training grueling, and the only real comfort he had was Yue Zhaolin’s face. So, true to his nature—
The moment he saw that face, it was springtime in his heart and all reason flew out the window. Being Yue Zhaolin’s loyal follower? Honestly, not a bad gig. Not everyone even had the chance.
“Let’s go.”
Yue Zhaolin nodded.
The two of them walked into the main hall for the first public performance song selection. The space had been rearranged—now there was a full-length backdrop wall covered in the show’s logo.
A short while later, Cen Chi arrived as well.
Yue Zhaolin noticed his makeup looked a bit thicker than usual today. Taking advantage of the fact that neither of them had their mics on yet, he leaned in and asked quietly, “What happened?”
Cen Chi replied honestly, “Got punched.”
Yue Zhaolin raised an eyebrow.
“Did you hit back?”
Cen Chi blinked, then leaned a little closer with a sly smile:
“Yeah. I made sure to aim for a spot that really hurts.”
It was a skill honed during his trainee days in Korea—who would’ve thought he’d get to use it back home.
While they spoke, Yue Zhaolin made eye contact with Duanmu Hongxue, who had just arrived at the door.
Duanmu immediately looked away. But when he tried to walk faster, a sharp pain flared up in his stomach again.
Damn it. That bastard Cen Chi hit way too hard.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
…
Duanmu Hongxue’s anger turned once more toward Xiao Chao.
If it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t have gotten any ideas—and he could’ve still been grouped with Yue Zhaolin for the second round performance.
But now that the exposé was out, his relationship with Yue Zhaolin was clearly beyond repair.
Still, at least the company hadn’t abandoned him.
There was still room to maneuver.
In the business world, there were no eternal enemies. The entertainment industry wasn’t that big—sooner or later, you’d run into each other again. When the time came, the company could just offer some resources to Xingqiong as compensation, and the matter would be settled.
With that comforting thought, Duanmu Hongxue composed himself and casually walked over toward Yue Zhaolin again.
Yue Zhaolin gave a slight smile—in Duanmu Hongxue’s eyes, it looked more like mockery, stabbing directly at his ego.
Suddenly, the phone in Duanmu Hongxue’s pocket started buzzing nonstop.
Why are they calling now?
He instinctively ignored it.
But then, commotion began to stir outside the entrance.
The hall doors were pushed open again—but this time, it wasn’t trainees who entered. Leading the group were several police officers dressed in black uniforms, each one with a stern and serious expression.
One of them, with sharp, focused eyes, immediately locked onto Duanmu Hongxue. After murmuring something to the officer beside him, he strode directly toward him.
“…”
Duanmu Hongxue felt a chill run down his spine. Instinctively, he took a step back.
He felt as if his soul had left his body when he heard the voice at his ear:
“We are officers from the Haicheng Public Security Bureau. This is our identification.”
“You are suspected of using private information to threaten and coerce another party into falsely accusing someone. You are required to come with us to cooperate with the investigation.”
Bzzzt—
The surrounding whispers rose like a curse in Duanmu Hongxue’s ears, buzzing louder and louder.
He instinctively reached for his pocket.
His phone still had that overseas social media account on it—the one he wasn’t sure had finished uploading. That account was filled with private photos he had leaked himself.
He was done for.
Suddenly, he turned to look at Yue Zhaolin.
Yue Zhaolin’s smile hadn’t changed, but the look in his eyes—it was exactly the same as before.
Like he was looking at trash.
—
[Goose Gossip Group | The First “Jailed Idol” of 20XX May Have Just Been Born]
[Original Post]
RT.
[1F] Can’t believe the first time I type “Duanmu Hongxue” into my keyboard is to eat this kind of melon.
[3F] This man is truly the embodiment of all five major vices.
Aside from framing Yue Zhaolin, seven of his exes have come forward to expose him—cheating, dr*g use, forced ab*rtions… How did any agency even let him into a survival show in the first place?!
[9F] Because he was selling himself.
[13F] Huh?! For real??
[18F] Not a baseless rumor this time—there are pictures.
Check Weibo @yinghuadao. A netizen snapped a photo last year of him holding hands with a man while viewing flower fields in Hokkaido.
The man’s identity got dug up—he’s a vice president at Vision Entertainment, a widower with a son.
[23F] How did someone even get that shot?! OMG.
[35F] All I can say is… that title “The Chinese: Earth’s Sidewalk Roamer” wasn’t given for nothing.
[43F] Suddenly thought of something—now that he’s been taken away, can the show still go on?
[48F] Not sure either.
I mean, Emperor Yue is technically the victim here, right? Would he have to give a statement or something?
But one thing’s for sure—
with the “Jailbait Idol” arc unlocked, post-production’s definitely pulling overtime again.