Chapter 81: Diss Track
[Goose Gossip Group | The rap mentor from Starlight just dropped a diss track — has everyone heard it?]
———
[Original Post]
RT.
[2F]No one’s replying to me?
[5F] Isn’t Emperor Yue awake now? Everyone went to watch his livestream — mainly to see how the “So Who Framed Yue Zhaolin” saga ends.
[7F] Sis, look up at the group name — did you come to the wrong place? Xiufen isn’t into the hip-hop scene, and we hardly ever talk about the mentor here unless he has a scandal.
[10F] Who’s he dissing?
[12F] OP: It’s… subtle.
[15F] Reply to 12th Floor: How so?
[21F] OP: Well… you guys should just listen for yourselves. I feel like he’s dissing Yue Zhaolin?
[21F] ???
[25F] I saw someone bringing this up in the livestream chat too — don’t tell me it’s for real…
[29F] Huh? Huh?? Wait, aren’t these two in a mentor–trainee relationship? How did it turn into a diss?
[35F] It’s not like he has any beef with Emperor Yue, right? Did he get possessed by a rival fan of Emperor Yue?
…
Five minutes ago.
In the middle of a barrage of comments calling him both “husband” and “wife,” Yue Zhaolin calmly popped three popcorn chicken bites into his mouth in a row, steadying himself.
[Hubby, say something~]
[Hahaha]
[A slightly bold question for hubby — did you take off your makeup before sleeping yesterday? Just remembered your stage makeup included colored contacts, kinda worried.]
Finally, amid the barrage of teasing comments, Yue Zhaolin spotted one he could actually answer:
“Mm, yes — I took my makeup off before sleeping.”
Yue Zhaolin’s stage makeup and hairstyle could both be described as “high-precision,” and they were especially stubborn, not easily smudged by sweat.
The Xingqiong team worried that if Yue Zhaolin removed his makeup himself, he might rub wrinkles into his skin or fail to wash out the hairspray properly, leading to hair loss. So the team had always handled removing his makeup and washing his hair for him.
He had a faint memory of Fu Xunying carrying him to the makeup room.
So he should have had his makeup removed. Thinking of this, he glanced at Fu Xunying across from him.
Fu Xunying: “?”
Fu Xunying had been urgently called in by the staff to wait backstage. Whenever the chat brought up the “carrying” incident, it was his cue to lean into the fanservice.
[Baby, who was the one who carried you back? I want to thank them www]
[Exactly!]
Although Puppet on Strings had two annoying tagalongs, the Tide fandom had a clear sense of gratitude and grudges — if it was them, they’d still give credit where it was due. The GIF was too blurry to make out anyone except Yue Zhaolin, so Tide fans had already guessed once, with some even wondering if it might have been PD Li Ying.
Just as everyone was waiting for Yue Zhaolin’s answer, a wave of strange comments appeared:
[Verse dropped a diss track at you. According to hip-hop rules, you’ve gotta diss back — you’re not gonna turtle up and pretend you didn’t see it, right? Hahaha]
[Even though Verse didn’t name names, just reading the lyrics you can tell he’s cursing you. Did you piss him off?]
[The song’s literally called Puppet on Strings. Why not play it live right now? Hah, that’s still exposure, isn’t it?]
[Bro’s avatar model is pretty good-looking — no wonder you’ve hooked so many underage fans into spending money on you.]
A sudden wave of comments with a completely different tone flooded into the livestream, and Yue Zhaolin naturally noticed.
[What are the people up front talking about?]
[Why would a mentor diss a trainee?]
[Why are random trolls trying to stir things up in the chat again? Tide fandom, ignore them and push back.]
[So weird.]
The discussion kept going in the chat. Curious passersby couldn’t hold back — they went to Weibo to search the keywords, then came back to the livestream all excited to talk about it. Soon, the terms “Verse” and “diss track” started appearing more and more, along with things like “capital’s puppet” and “accomplice.”
Yue Zhaolin didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t panic. He made eye contact with a staff member behind the camera.
The staffer had also seen the comments, quickly caught on, gave a wry, long-suffering smile, and mouthed: “Don’t respond, just keep streaming.”
He was there specifically to monitor the livestream — he hadn’t expected this to happen. But now that it had, and right under his nose, he couldn’t just give up.
The acting crash-course techniques Yue Zhaolin had learned earlier now came in handy. Without a trace of hesitation, he lowered his eyes and picked up the previous topic:
“So, who was it that carried me back?”
The staffer subtly signaled to Tan Shen and Cen Chi to jump in. First, stabilize the situation; they’d contact the higher-ups afterward.
Tan Shen also sensed something was off and played along naturally:
“Cen Chi, of course.”
Yue Zhaolin: “I remember it was Fu Xunying?”
Yue Zhaolin: “Hm?”
Tan Shen: “Eh?”
Yue Zhaolin looked toward one of the people involved. Cen Chi explained seriously:
“Fu Xunying carried you at first, but he got tired after a bit, so we switched.”
Fu Xunying gave Cen Chi a polite, practiced smile — elegant, but a little fake.
“I wasn’t tired. It was my first time carrying someone, so I didn’t have the technique down.”
Yue Zhaolin was genuinely surprised — he only remembered the part when Fu Xunying carried him.
“I don’t remember that.”
“What else do you remember?”
Yue Zhaolin: “Took a shower?”
Fu Xunying, looking exasperated, took the livestream phone, glanced at the chat, and directly switched it to the rear camera before aiming it at Yue Zhaolin.
“This guy was clearly about to pass out, but his clean-freak tendencies kicked in — insisted on showering before sleeping.”
Fu Xunying acted like he didn’t see the comments:
“And he wouldn’t let anyone into the bathroom. We could only knock on the door every ten seconds to make sure he hadn’t collapsed inside.”
There was some exaggeration, but it felt natural enough, without overacting, and the staff breathed a sigh of relief.
Yue Zhaolin and the others stayed unaffected, and the Tide fandom’s comments gradually drowned out the weird ones.
[Thanks, I’ll vote for you guys]
[Ah, you even forced yourself to shower? That’s scary — what if you had fainted in there? Yue Zhaolin, I’m punishing you with three more days of recovery meals!!!]
[Exactly]
[Good thing you’re a guy — a battle shower only takes two minutes…]
While Tide fans enjoyed their peaceful chatter, they were already charging toward Verse’s Weibo.
—Those earlier comments had way too much “male” energy, and kept bringing up Verse’s name, like they were trying to funnel traffic his way.
Want attention? Fine — here’s a flood for you. Polite smile.JPG
……
After a while, the livestream ended safely. Fu Xunying pressed the end button.
The staff was about to take the phone back, but Fu Xunying shook his head:
“Hold on, I want to check exactly how that guy dissed Yue Zhaolin.”
At the mention of it, the staff’s brows knitted together, eyes showing a trace of weary bitterness.
Sigh, see? He’d find out sooner or later anyway.
—And sure enough, the diss track was confirmed to be from Verse. He had even deliberately chosen to release it right when Yue Zhaolin’s livestream was on, just to get mentioned in the comments.
Yue Zhaolin was all the more curious.
The other party had released a diss track aimed at him — yet the production team looked more troubled than he was?
Tan Shen and Cen Chi also came over, and the four of them got ready to listen together.
Fu Xunying first logged out of the staff’s Weibo account, then searched the keywords:
“Found it. Is this the one?”
verse-og94-youngk: [New song Puppet on Strings, straight from the heart. You’ll understand once you’ve heard it]
The diss track was indeed titled Puppet on Strings — already sounding highly targeted, since Yue Zhaolin’s third public stage performance had the same name.
Verse had over a million followers on Weibo, and this was his highest-performing post.
It had only been up for a short while, but it already had 50,000 shares, 20,000 comments, and 20,000 likes — a rather strange share-to-like ratio.
Fu Xunying tapped the video. The intro began with repeated “yo, yo”s, and the electronic beats were cranked to the max.
Yue Zhaolin: “Mm… can you turn it down?”
Way too much synth.
Tan Shen clearly felt the same — the heavy electronic buzz made his ears itch.
Cen Chi let out a hiss: “Is he… using vocal fry too?” His voice sounded like a burp.
“These two lines are awful. I’ll lower the volume,” Fu Xunying said, just as Verse started rapping:
“Fake idol, yeah, fake idol, yeah,
your whole life is fake, before it was a false wake.”
“Once you laughed at the puppeteer,
fighting not to be a puppet on strings,
now you’ve become a lifeless doll,
your fans’ true hearts all fed to the dogs.”
“Your makeup’s more delicate than a girl’s,
you long ago lost a man’s authenticity,
singing ‘I love you’ on stage,
behind it all just tricks to flatter.”
“Flattering your underage fans,
coaxing them into stupidity,
your magazines, your tickets —
they’d give you it all, even if it meant skipping meals.”
“You say, he say, I’m wrong, f*ck everyday!”
“Back then you were still pure,
now you’ve forgotten the road you came from,
become a lapdog for capital,
a puppet aiding the wicked — utterly absurd.”
…
“Your fans see you as the moon,
but you’re really just a wolf,
the wolf from the Farmer and the Wolf fable.”
“In front of the camera, you play the good sheep,
but take your fans as rations,
gathering up all their faith
only to throw it into the marketplace.”
“Climbing over me to rise higher,
still putting on that fake act,
I despise your pretense,
coming onstage as the victim to make accusations.”
“Your persona is a paper-thin dreamer,
but you long ago bowed down to traffic and metrics,
calculating your future gains,
a wolf wearing moonlight to pretend you belong.”
“Fake idol, yeah, fake idol, yeah, fake idol, yeah.”
“You say, he say, I’m wrong, f*ck everyday!”
“F*ck everyday!”
…
Comments floated across the livestream:
[Awful]
[This is the standard of a rapper?]
[I could do better myself.]