Chapter 93.2: Clarifying the Styling Plagiarism Incident
After a night of jumping from melon to melon, the gossip-hungry netizens finally got a juicy, ripe one—and they were more than satisfied.
— I’m dying 😂 Duan Mingfei probably never imagined the timeline he was so eager to publish would turn around and bite him this hard. What do you even call this? The queen killing herself? Just one question: Duan Mingfei, does your face hurt?
— Thank goodness Xiu-baby had evidence proving he wore it before Duan Mingfei. Otherwise, if Duan Mingfei had managed to frame him, that would’ve been disgusting. I can smell the sourness radiating off Duan Mingfei through the screen.
— Now I can finally ask without restraint: Are you okay? @DuanMingfei
— Heehee, as a proud Xiuologist, I’m here to say it too: Are you okay? @DuanMingfei
— Are you okay? @DuanMingfei
Within just a few hours, the phrase “Are you okay?” had become permanently associated with Duan Mingfei.
Even VG’s official Weibo account, which had previously remained neutral and refrained from commenting on gossip, broke its silence shortly after Youth Unstoppable posted their video clearing Shen Xiu’s name.
VG’s Weibo post contained 18 images.
Among them were:
Screenshots of Duan Mingfei’s assistant persistently pestering the assistant to VG’s design director.
Countless emails sent by Duan Mingfei’s fans to VG’s official email, recommending him with attached photos.
And the photos they used? Clearly the same set that Duan Mingfei had been using to claim he was copied—now ironically exposed as part of a campaign to get the endorsement.
— I thought the drama ended with Boss Shen’s response, but who knew we’d get a surprise epilogue!
— VG really has an eye for talent. Even though the outfits were similar, Shen Xiu just radiates luxury. Duan Mingfei looks like a knockoff.
— Can’t blame VG. If I saw Shen Xiu and Duan Mingfei side by side—even if the King of Heaven himself came down, I’d still pick Shen Xiu! Actually, forget picking—there is no choice! I’m not blind.
— Case closed. So he was just bitter he couldn’t land the deal, huh? Sour grapes much.
— Someone keep count—how many times has Duan Mingfei been KO’d tonight?
— Also… can anyone explain how Shen Xiu managed to sign with VG after just one brief encounter and no prior contract? No one knows? Fine. I’ll just keep asking every day until someone does.
In the beginning, netizens were afraid that Duan Mingfei’s fans would lash out, so they didn’t dare type his full name in the comments. They used initials instead—just so that, if the fans did come for them, they could flip the script and say: “Hey, you outed yourselves!”
But now that Duan Mingfei had been repeatedly and thoroughly proven to just be bitter, netizens stopped being polite. They started outright mentioned him by name to mock him publicly.
When Assistant Wen saw VG’s latest official post, he nearly forgot to breathe.
Afraid the director might be held accountable the next day—and that he himself would get dragged down with him—Assistant Wen immediately logged into the account, deleted Kaiser’s post, and changed the password.
He didn’t even dare give the new password to the staff who managed the official account, afraid that the “crown prince” Kaiser might ask for it, and the staff would just hand it over without question.
Even though VG’s post was deleted in seconds, sharp-eyed gossip-loving netizens had already screenshotted or saved it, and quickly reposted it on their own Weibo accounts while tagging Duan Mingfei to mock him.
Sensing the scent of traffic, marketing accounts jumped on the opportunity, saving the screenshots and reposting them on their own profiles to draw in views.
In no time, netizens who were just there for the drama gleefully tagged Duan Mingfei with sarcastic comments.
The phrases included, but weren’t limited to:
“Are you okay?”,
“So sour lol”,
“Clown”,
“The queen killed the queen”,
and other mocking expressions.
The wave of mentions flooded in so overwhelmingly that Duan Mingfei couldn’t ignore it even if he tried.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, in the face of hard, undeniable evidence, it was true—Shen Xiu did wear that outfit before him.
There was no room for argument.
And his previous eagerness to publicly post the timeline of his own photoshoot… had now come back to slap him in the face.
What Duan Mingfei hated even more was having to admit that Shen Xiu really had worn it earlier than he did.
His mind drifted back to the last time, after appearing on Crossing the Primeval Forest, when he lost a chunk of followers. This time, the situation was far worse. He didn’t even have the courage to open his account to check how many followers he’d lost or how many were publicly announcing their departure.
But…
he just couldn’t accept it!
It had taken Duan Mingfei a lot of effort to rise again with the role of school b*lly Jiang Ming. As long as he secured the VG endorsement, he could make a full comeback—so why did Shen Xiu have to block his way!?
Xiao Gong, sensing an imminent explosion, wisely and swiftly slipped out of the livestream room before Duan Mingfei could erupt.
As soon as the door closed, a series of loud crashing and smashing sounds came from inside.
Xiao Gong stood guard outside, not daring to leave. He took out his phone to continue watching the drama—no, monitoring real-time online activity.
Seeing the explosive surge of trending topics related to Duan Mingfei on the hot search list, Xiao Gong—who had suffered both mentally and physically since taking this assistant job—couldn’t help but think two things:
The good news is: Congratulations, you’ve finally made it onto multiple hot searches!
The bad news is: They’re all negative.
Of course, Xiao Gong only dared to think these things in his head.
There was no way he’d ever say them out loud—Duan Mingfei was actually the kind of person who would hit someone.
Unlike the usual gossip cycles that dragged on for a week before things came to a head, this time the netizens got their juicy, fully ripened drama in one night. After sarcastically roasting Duan Mingfei to their hearts’ content, they peacefully went to bed with their phones in hand.
Having cleared his name in the endorsement styling controversy, Shen Xiu, touched by the support of “so many good people,” folded his hands on his abdomen and fell asleep instantly.
That night, only Duan Mingfei—mocked by the masses and watching his follower count plummet—lay awake all night, unable to sleep.
Back in his room, too exhausted to stay up any longer, Xiao Gong drifted off with one last hazy thought:
‘So… only Duan Mingfei got hurt in this world?’
—
The next day.
At 7 a.m., Shen Xiu opened his eyes with practiced ease, then went downstairs for a morning run while eating breakfast on the go.
When he returned, he was carrying several large black bags, stuffed to the brim.
The system scanned the contents of Shen Xiu’s black bags and found itself doubting its own existence.
“Paper… phone? Paper house? Paper stool? Paper cricket cage?”
There were still many other paper offerings in the black bag that the system didn’t list out.
Even though the system didn’t have a physical body, being questioned so directly still made Shen Xiu feel embarrassed.
“Burn them… maybe… they’ll see it…”
When people die, there’s truly nothing left. Heaven and hell are just psychological comforts and deceptions for the living.
Even Shen Xiu himself didn’t believe that burning offerings would really let the deceased receive them. But when he passed by while jogging, he still couldn’t stop his feet from walking in, and when he came out, he’d bought a whole bunch.
Carrying the items out of the paper offerings shop, Shen Xiu had thought in a daze at that time—whether he believed it or not might not matter that much. What mattered was that he wanted to do it.
Many things must be treated seriously, but for some things, there’s no need to be so exacting.
System: [……]
If someone had told it in the past that Shen Xiu would say something like that, it wouldn’t have believed it even if it were beaten to death.
Not only would it not believe it—it might’ve even beaten up the person who said it and accused them of slandering Shen Xiu.
But now… its face really hurt!
Maybe… this was the complexity of human nature that Shen Xiu had spoken of?
Shen Xiu had a habit of planning things before doing them. So the system knew that Shen Xiu would head to the cemetery at 10 a.m. to visit his parents and return by 2 p.m.
It was only 9 a.m. now, still an hour to go.
Looking at Shen Xiu, who had been surrounded by a low-pressure aura ever since returning with the paper offerings, the system asked: [Not going to livestream a response to your fans’ questions?]
The system remembered that every time Shen Xiu spoke with the Xiuologists, his mood would improve.
Shen Xiu had just finished showering and came out of the bathroom, towel in hand, drying his hair. “Hmm?”
He firmly believed his memory from yesterday was not wrong: “There couldn’t have been anything left out.”
System: [I’m not talking about the questions you transcribed and answered yesterday—I mean new ones. After what happened last night, your fans have new questions.]
The system picked out a few of the top comments from the feed.
[For example, why did you suddenly sign a contract after just a brief meeting?]
[Who else was there at the time—was it through an introduction?]
Hearing these new questions—ones he indeed hadn’t answered yet—Shen Xiu strode over to his charging phone.
“Thank you.”
If the system hadn’t reminded him, he, who never checked Weibo, wouldn’t have known that everyone had more questions.
Seeing Shen Xiu gradually come out of his gloomy mood, the system’s database trembled: [You’re welcome!]
…
It was Saturday. People who didn’t have to work were still lying in bed even if they were already awake, leaving traces of their browsing across all the social media platforms.
The Xiuologists were no different.
But what they didn’t expect—at all—was to get a livestream notification from Shen Xiu early in the morning.
[Is there something wrong with my eyes? (shocked face)]
[Xiu-baby! Aaaaah it’s real, Xiu-baby is actually real!]
[Why is your hair wet?]
[Most people give us late-night surprises, but Xiu-baby’s serving up a morning treat? Gotta say, his face is better than coffee—completely woke me up!]
As more and more viewers clicked into the stream, Shen Xiu responded to every visible comment one by one.
“Yes, it’s true.”
“I just got back from a run and took a shower.”
After replying, Shen Xiu added, “It seems like everyone has some questions about the contract—feel free to ask, and if I see them, I’ll answer.”
Shen Xiu only had one phone and no tablet, and at ten o’clock he was heading out to visit his parents.
With time being tight, Shen Xiu couldn’t copy comments into his notebook and answer them like before. Instead, he had to opt for a livestream format so fans could ask questions and get answers in real time.
There was a computer in the study, but judging by the feeling he got when entering it, there seemed to be too many secrets in that room. It wasn’t as suitable for an open livestream as the spacious and empty living room.
Tang Yiling, listening to that familiar, cool voice coming from her tablet and watching Shen Xiu’s indifferent expression, once again found herself falling for this kind of man—one who seemed cold to the core, but silently carried everything in his heart.
He was just too irresistible!
Squealing inside at the contrast between his appearance and hidden depth, Tang Yiling and the Xiuologists in the livestream all sent the same barrage of comments…
“Who else was present when you met, besides you and Kaiser?”
“Two directors, a teacher, and Auntie Lu.”
“At that meeting, no one brought up the topic of signing a contract.”
“The contract was signed yesterday.”
“I didn’t meet with Kaiser yesterday either. It was signed online with Kaiser’s assistant, Assistant Wen.”
[??? The contract was just signed yesterday?! Who would believe that if it wasn’t coming straight from him?!]
[Damn, who could’ve guessed?! This is seriously shocking! If Xiu-baby hadn’t said it himself, I never would’ve believed it.]
[Compare what Xiu-baby is saying now with everything he said before the official endorsement was announced—he really didn’t lie to us! Every word he said was true! We were just too dumb to understand ‘Xiuology’ correctly. So frustrating!]
“Why were you dressed like that at the time?”
Seeing that question, Shen Xiu’s mind immediately recalled the psychological trauma left by a past director…
