The stream of hard evidence being released one after another was simply too solid, so solid that even some of Xing Ze’s diehard solo fans didn’t have the courage to keep lying through their teeth. Although there was still a small portion of them who continued to defend Xing Ze fiercely, lashing out at anyone who dared to say a single bad word about him as if they were ready to bite them to death, the majority could still tell right from wrong.
But it was precisely that small portion of rabid defenders that made the bystanders, who already had no good impression of Xing Ze, so disgusted that they couldn’t help but want to join in on the hate. They were just too obnoxious, practically like mad dogs, snapping at anyone they could sink their teeth into.
People often say, “Speak no ill of the dead”. This might be the first time in entertainment industry history where someone was idolized before death, only to be hated so much after dying that it was as if the coffin lid could no longer stay shut.
Some were worried that there might still be a plot twist later, so they held onto their popcorn and watched from the sidelines, waiting. But after a few days, the outcry against Xing Ze only grew louder and louder—even though he was already dead. Yet the wrongs one committed in life don’t simply vanish just because one is gone.
The father who had spent years investigating the truth behind his daughter’s death never imagined that the man who caused her death turned out to be her former idol. Even though the man was now dead, he still intended to sue as he should. Unfortunately, there were only a few video clips as evidence—enough to serve as supporting proof, but not sufficient as direct evidence in the eyes of the law. So, the final result might not turn out as hoped.
As for the other family involved—one was dead, one had gone insane—there wasn’t even a single person left who could seek justice for them.
Someone dug up their current situation and shared it, leaving people sighing in sympathy, and worsening the public’s perception of Xing Ze even further.
As the situation gradually developed, if no new evidence emerged to flip the narrative, then Xing Ze’s case would likely be settled as it was.
Some people even commented that if Xing Ze’s fans hadn’t clung on so obsessively and attacked others so relentlessly, Lu Ning’s company might never have released all this in the first place. After all, if they had really wanted to release it, they could’ve done so long ago.
This is the entertainment industry, after all. How many people truly have a sense of justice and upright values? As long as their own interests aren’t affected, who would willingly wade into muddy waters?
From being cursed out of the galaxy, to now having nothing but apologies and comforting “muah muah” comments, the atmosphere under Zuo Ning’s Weibo gradually became harmonious.
Although there were still a few people jumping around, they were quickly suppressed and couldn’t stir up any real trouble.
And then, from the day of Xing Ze’s incident up until now, the Weibo account that hadn’t updated at all suddenly posted a photo one morning.
In the photo, the young man looked like he had just woken up—his hair still unkempt, still sitting on the bed. But his skin, kissed by sunlight, looked clear and dewy, so pale it seemed to glow. The way he smiled toward the camera was warm enough to make hearts explode.
The post had only a simple line of text: I’m doing well. Thank you all. Good morning.
【Crying crying, our Ning baby finally showed up! From the looks of it, he really hasn’t been affected much. As long as Ning baby’s okay, then everything’s okay!】
【The storm has finally passed. Ning Ning’s smile is so beautiful. Now I finally understand how a single smile can make someone feel like spring is blooming. It feels like even the flowers were warmed open.】
【Lu Ning is probably the most viciously slandered star in history, but also the one who was cleared the fastest. No one else even comes close. But as the saying goes, blessings and misfortunes come hand in hand. From now on, take care, stay on the right path, and let your work speak for itself.】
【Little fairy boy, you better keep your eyes wide open when making friends in this circle. Here are screenshots. Back when you were getting smeared, look how many people in the industry jumped at the chance to kick you while you were down and even leaked dirt on you. You’d better remember all these people! Screenshot, screenshot, screenshot.】
【Little fairy boy makes a powerful comeback. His looks have reached a whole new level. Slurp slurp slurp—got a dose of honey first thing in the morning, today’s luck is definitely off the charts!】
【One sentence: those who bring ruin upon themselves cannot escape it. To say a fair word— even if the murderer was targeting Lu Ning, and Xing Ze died an innocent death in his place, and Xing Ze did nothing wrong—then what wrong did Lu Ning do? Did he want to be targeted by that deranged person? If Xing Ze’s fans hadn’t been so extreme, Xing Ze might still have died with dignity, and people might still be mourning him every year from now on. But karma always comes eventually. Everything you do leaves a trace. From beginning to end, the most innocent one seems to be this young man who had just come of age. Looking back on the attacks against Lu Ning in those few days, it’s truly horrifying. Anyone without a strong enough heart might’ve already crumbled. Fortunately, the bad guys got what they deserved, and the good guy is still safe and sound.】
Once the internet was unblocked, Zuo Ning scrolled on his phone for a while. Of course, he didn’t bother looking at the comments from the past few days. Among these ten new comments, two or three were apologies to him, which already showed how terrifying the previous ones must’ve been.
Even though it looked like things had blown over on the surface, he probably wouldn’t be able to shake off the shadow of the Xing Ze incident for quite some time.
Zuo Ning tossed the phone aside and lay face down on the bed in a daze. He had been locked up by Lu Chenghe for over ten days now. The production team had resumed filming as normal, but they were currently focusing on scenes for the other male lead. Once his condition was back on track, he would return to continue shooting.
That said, there wasn’t much left for him to shoot anyway. His scenes had been pretty dense in the earlier part, and many of the emotionally intense parts were already done. What remained was relatively mellow and not much in quantity. At most, he’d be wrapped up within a month.
He rolled over on the bed, and when he heard a soft little whimper nearby, Zuo Ning reached a hand over the edge of the bed. Very quickly, a soft, damp little tongue began licking at his hand. Zuo Ning scooped up Feifei and pulled him onto the bed.
The chubby little milk-dog kept wriggling into Zuo Ning’s arms, occasionally letting out soft “daddy” whines or meaningless barks, tail wagging so hard it looked like it could fling itself off.
Zuo Ning chuckled and placed Feifei on his chest, stroking its fur with a satisfied sigh. If only dogs could stay like this forever—so tiny, he could carry it around in his pocket wherever he went.
Lu Chenghe walked in just in time to see Little Pudding lifting the puppy onto the bed again. He walked straight over, grabbed the scruff of the pup’s neck, and tossed it to the floor. “How many times have I said this? Don’t put the dog on the bed. This little thing barely ever gets a bath. It’s filthy.”
Separated from his dad, Feifei immediately turned toward Lu Chenghe and let out a protest, barking in his childish little voice. He barked nonstop until Lu Chenghe threw a stuffed toy at him. Feifei instantly forgot all past grievances and lunged toward the toy on his short little legs. But the toy was bigger than him, and he couldn’t get a stable hold. He ended up rolling like a ball, tumbling once to the ground and then twice more in a row. It took him quite a while to flip his belly-up limbs back over, and then he waddled his chubby little behind, happily scampering after the toy again.
Zuo Ning sat up in bed, glanced at his silly son, then looked toward the bad daddy who had just tossed his silly son off the bed. He pointed at Lu Chenghe and accused, “He’s your son, too.”
Lu Chenghe chuckled lightly. “It’s fine. He’s so chubby, he won’t break from a fall.”
Zuo Ning huffed, hugged his pillow, and was about to lie back down, but Lu Chenghe stopped him, so he blinked up at him instead.
Lu Chenghe said helplessly, “Everything’s arranged. We’re heading back to the set tomorrow to start filming again.”
Zuo Ning responded with an “Oh,” indicating he understood.
Lu Chenghe sat down at the edge of the bed. “What is it? You don’t want to go back to work?”
Zuo Ning shook his head, looking at Lu Chenghe as if wanting to say something but hesitating. Lu Chenghe smiled and asked, “What is it?”
Zuo Ning said, “I think I’m kind of selfish. Before, I thought I was the one who dragged Xing Ze down and got him killed. I felt guilty and terrified. I even dreamed of Xing Ze, covered in blood, grabbing my neck and coming for my life. But now that I know it wasn’t my fault, I feel relieved. I haven’t dreamed of him since. And it just feels like… as long as someone gives me a reason, an excuse, I can shift all the blame onto others, wash my hands clean, and feel perfectly justified.”
Lu Chenghe gently ruffled his hair. “But it really wasn’t your fault. That Xing Ze did a lot of terrible things. What’s happening now is just his karma. You don’t need to feel guilty over him. Besides, this whole thing was a disaster that had nothing to do with you. Blaming yourself for something that isn’t yours to carry, that’s just tormenting yourself for nothing.”
Zuo Ning reached out and hugged Lu Chenghe, pressing his whole body tightly into Lu Chenghe’s embrace. He sighed. “I’m afraid I’ve become a bad person.”
“Even if you turn bad, you’re still my Little Pudding.”
Zuo Ning straightened up and looked at him. “You can’t have such a crooked sense of right and wrong. That’s not okay.”
Lu Chenghe laughed as he smoothed out Zuo Ning’s hair, which hadn’t been touched since the morning. Looking at him seriously, he said, “To me, there’s only whether it’s worth it or not. There’s no such thing as right or wrong.”
Zuo Ning looked at him. “Then what if I really do something bad in the future?”
Lu Chenghe tapped him on the forehead. “Even if you kill someone or set fires, I’d help you bury the body and cover up the evidence. As long as I’m here, what’s there to be afraid of?”
Zuo Ning gave him a sideways glance and clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think you were such a morally twisted Lu Chenghe. I really misjudged you.”
Lu Chenghe slapped his thigh. “Ungrateful little brat.”
Zuo Ning quickly grinned and said, “Even though your values are skewed, I just like you that much. Crooked morals? So be it.”
Lu Chenghe pinched his cheek. Seeing those bright eyes staring at him with such focus, he leaned in on instinct—his body moving faster than his thoughts—and went in for a kiss.
“Woof woof!” Daddy!
Just as their lips were about to meet, Zuo Ning heard his son calling for him. He quickly pushed Lu Chenghe away and scrambled to the edge of the bed, picking up Feifei, who was pawing at the edge but couldn’t climb up. “What’s wrong, son?”
Feifei rubbed against Zuo Ning’s palm. “Woof!” Poop time.
Zuo Ning burst out laughing, gave the pup’s head a good rub, and took him to the bathroom. “Such a good boy. You learned what Daddy taught you so quickly.” The benefit of being able to communicate with a dog was that you really could raise one like a son, with zero barriers.
Lu Chenghe, left all alone, watched as Little Pudding walked off carrying that little mutt without even looking back. For the first time in his life, he suddenly felt that getting a dog might have been a huge mistake.
Zuo Ning returned to the set and resumed filming. The crew members, director, and fellow actors all came over to express their concern. Worried that he hadn’t fully adjusted his state of mind, the director arranged only very simple scenes for him—just the early-stage version of the male lead, innocent and pure like a young boy. As long as he could smile beautifully, that was enough.
Previously, it was Zuo Ning himself who had specifically told Lu Chenghe not to have too many people around him. One assistant was enough. Having a crowd following him always felt tacky, like some nouveau riche tryhard. But this time, when he came back to work, Zuo Ning already had a whole team with him. In addition to his assistant, there were four bodyguards, a makeup artist, a costume stylist, and even an assistant to the assistant.
The makeup artist and the costume stylist were both women. Zuo Ning thought they were just straightforward professionals doing their jobs, but Yang Shun told him those two young ladies were no less skilled than he was. Zuo Ning’s eyes widened in surprise. He had no idea how much money Lu Chenghe had spent to hire these people to follow him around. Not only were they impressive, but they were highly skilled, too. Zuo Ning had a feeling that even the pay from filming an entire drama might not be enough to cover their salaries.
Lan Shao saw that Lu Ning didn’t seem to be affected much by what had happened. His complexion looked good, and there were noticeably more people by his side now, so he didn’t bother going over to join the others in expressing concern. This incident once again confirmed to him just how much the person backing Lu Ning valued and cared about him. That realization brought a wave of sycophants trying to cozy up to him. Unfortunately, their mental fortitude wasn’t strong enough. Under the intimidating stares of those four bodyguards, none of them lasted long before retreating in defeat. Only Ni Hao was still acting like nothing had happened, dragging over his lounge chair, claiming it was to go over the script, but clearly coming to gossip.
When he learned that Lu Ning didn’t know the full story of what had happened, Ni Hao looked at him in surprise.
Zuo Ning shrugged and smiled at him. “I really don’t know. My agent wouldn’t let me use my phone or read the news those days. I didn’t have to go out either. I just stayed home playing video games. No one told me a thing.”
The corner of Ni Hao’s mouth twitched. It had been such a major event, and he had worried whether Lu Ning’s fragile little heart could handle it. Who would’ve thought the person at the center of it all hadn’t been touched by it in the slightest, protected so thoroughly he really did seem like a carefree young master without a worry in the world. Since Lu Ning didn’t know the details, Ni Hao didn’t ask further. Instead, he started running lines with him and gossiping about the amusing things that had happened on set during that time.
Zuo Ning wasn’t much different from before, though he had become more guarded—quietly, without realizing it himself. Even though no one wanted him to get involved, he could more or less imagine what had gone down even without seeing it with his own eyes. He’d obediently stayed off the internet and hadn’t checked Weibo, but his phone’s messaging apps still worked just fine. During that whole time, aside from a single message from Lan Shao, not a single person had reached out to check on him privately. The entertainment industry really was a place that could make someone grow up fast.
Lu Chenghe, who had spent those days at home guarding Little Pudding, returned to the company only to be greeted by an uninvited guest. Looking at the young and brash new head of the Tang family, the corner of Lu Chenghe’s lips lifted in a cold smile.
