LR – Chapter 37

***
Chapter 37 – After The Rain

Outside, the heavy rain poured down as Zhou Xun went down to the garage to pick up Jiang Liusui. As soon as the two entered, Shen Sijia rushed over immediately.

“Suisui!” Shen Sijia’s heart ached for him. She wanted to wrap him in her arms, but worried that showing too much emotion might unsettle him further.

She only had a vague idea of what had happened back in his junior year. That night, Xie Chen had broken down the door with his men and managed to restrain Zhu Renliang, but the effects of the drug hadn’t yet worn off Jiang Liusui. Fortunately, it was only a drug that made one weak. Jiang Liusui went to the nearest hospital, accompanied by Xie Chen.

Early that morning, Shen Sijia saw the trending topic and was hit with a mix of shock and anger. Whoever had released the surveillance footage had deliberately blurred Zhu Renliang’s face, only referring to him as an investor during the filming of ⟪The Ultimate Guide⟫, clearly targeting Jiang Liusui alone. Even though the face was unclear, seeing the bulky middle-aged man enter Jiang Liusui’s room made Shen Sijia’s blood boil. She wished she could dive straight into the screen and stop it herself.

Minutes later, the footage showed Jiang Liusui in the hallway, swiping his card and entering the room.

Even though the edited clip was highly misleading, Jiang Liusui knew nothing about it. The thought that he, the victim, was being maligned by malicious parties enraged Shen Sijia beyond measure. In her rage, she immediately started verbally confronting those spreading the rumors online.

She felt helpless. The other side had overwhelming numbers, chasing and biting like mad dogs. No matter how capable she was, she alone could not argue against hundreds or even thousands of people. She was so angry that she wanted to throw away her phone.

Many others were in the same boat. Friends and fellow fans who had grown fond of Jiang Liusui after the variety show aired spent the entire morning speaking up for him. They all thought it was unfair to judge someone based on a few minutes of edited footage, hoping the general public would stay rational and wait for Gallery’s official clarification.

However, a flood of paid commenters appeared out of nowhere, drowning out their efforts no matter how much they spoke. Shen Sijia forced herself to stop thinking about the chaos online and turned to Jiang Liusui: “Come inside quickly. You didn’t get wet in the rain, did you?”

Jiang Liusui shook his head. Shen Sijia handed him a glass of water. “All that messy black material doesn’t even have the guts to name names—you can tell there’s something off. It’s just that the surveillance footage is tricky to handle, but as long as the company steps in to clarify, we should still be able to turn the tide…”

In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure. With such a targeted smear campaign, if not handled properly, it could cause irreversible damage to Jiang Liusui. But at this point, all she could do was try to speak as positively as possible.

Jiang Liusui gave a quiet acknowledgement, and the gesture somehow eased Shen Sijia’s anxiety. “Let’s wait for the company to communicate the PR plan with me. Worrying now won’t change anything.”

But from noon until evening, there was still no reply from Jiang Chuan.

During this time, Shen Sijia and Zhou Xun prevented Jiang Liusui from checking social media, trying their best to distract him. By five o’clock, the tension had become unbearable—Jiang Liusui couldn’t stay seated any longer.

Even if drafting a plan required time, the optimal moment for public relations had already passed.

Taking matters into his own hands, Jiang Liusui called Jiang Chuan. Within minutes, a sense of unease washed over him.

Unlike their morning conversation, where the focus had been on whether Xie Chen was responsible, the agent on the other end now dodged every question, claiming he was also waiting for the company’s notice. Jiang Liusui had managed to keep his composure up to now, but Jiang Chuan’s evasive answers were testing his patience.

Jiang Chuan’s attitude indirectly reflected the company’s stance. Jiang Liusui realized the situation might be worse than he had anticipated. For a moment, he couldn’t control his emotions and abruptly said, “Be honest—I probably won’t be getting any notification, right?”

“Ah! What kind of talk is that?” Jiang Chuan winced at the jab but tried to maintain a patient tone. “The company is still investigating. You know how it is — these things can’t be settled overnight. It takes time to reach any definite conclusion…”

If they weren’t going to verify the facts with him and refused to give a statement, then what was the point of this whole conversation?

Realizing that getting angry at Jiang Chuan would achieve nothing, and might even leave him open to criticism, Jiang Liusui coldly replied “Oh” and, not wanting to listen to Jiang Chuan ramble on any longer, simply hung up.

Shen Sijia and Zhou Xun watched him with concern. Shen Sijia wanted to ask about the situation, but seeing Jiang Liusui’s expression, she held back her words. Just then, Jiang Liusui’s phone rang again.

He had received countless calls today—some genuinely concerned, others just trying to stir up trouble. Seeing Xu Miao’s name on the caller ID, Jiang Liusui answered.

“Suisui?” Confirming it was him, Xu Miao skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point. “I won’t ask how you’re doing. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Remember when I mentioned your company and Xie Chen’s family might be collaborating? Your situation could be related to Xie Chen. I have a friend who’s a mid-level executive at Gallery. From what he says, it seems they aren’t planning to handle your case.”

Having just spoken with Jiang Chuan, Jiang Liusui wasn’t too surprised to hear this.

But he hadn’t expected that the company’s vague responses would ultimately lead him to learn the outcome from Xu Miao. He couldn’t describe what he was feeling and could only remain silent.

His reaction, being silent rather than shouting, was even harder to bear. Xu Miao couldn’t guess what he was thinking and almost didn’t have the heart to continue.

But rather than leaving him in the dark, it was better to let Jiang Liusui mentally prepare himself.

“This is spreading too fast—it’s already reached Tianguang Media,” Xu Miao said quietly. “Director Pei is still insisting on keeping you, but as the investor for ⟪Eternal Bell⟫, Tianguang wasn’t very optimistic about the project to begin with. They’d rather avoid trouble and seem to be… considering replacing you.”

“If Tianguang withdraws their investment, Director Pei will have no choice but to compromise in the end.”

Xu Miao spent some time trying to reassure Jiang Liusui, promising to inform him immediately if anything new came up.

After hanging up the phone, Jiang Liusui realized he had been gripping his palm so tightly that several deep red marks had formed without him noticing.

He forced himself to calm down, realizing that the company was giving him the cold shoulder—he would have to rely on himself.

Digging through his contacts, Jiang Liusui found the chief director of ⟪The Ultimate Guide⟫ and called him, but there was no answer.

He drafted a careful text, politely asking if the director could help clarify the situation, or if any records remained, adding that he would be grateful for the chance to meet in person if possible… but the message sank like a stone into the sea, receiving no reply.

Jiang Liusui searched his contacts for the screenwriter and the assistant director, calling and messaging them one after another. Hours passed with no response. Then, finally, a notification popped up.

He opened it immediately.

The assistant director replied, claiming he didn’t know the details of what had happened back then and couldn’t offer any help.

Jiang Liusui clenched his phone tightly, and at that moment, Qin Yi’s call came in.

The moment the call connected, Qin Yi asked where Jiang Liusui was, made sure he wasn’t alone, and then inquired about the events back then. After hearing the whole story, Qin Yi unexpectedly cursed, then restrained his emotions and comforted Jiang Liusui: “Let me see if I can get in touch with the chief director of ⟪The Ultimate Guide⟫. There might still be a way.”

“I’ve already tried,” Jiang Liusui replied. “Everyone I could reach out to has already been contacted. Only one person answered, and they said they couldn’t help.”

“……” Qin Yi fell silent for a moment. “I’ll try again. Maybe the director was busy before… he could have time now.”

It might be different if Qin Yi managed to find someone. Jiang Liusui responded with a simple “mm.”

He knew there wasn’t much he could do on his own. The key now was to wait for the company’s PR team. Qin Yi then asked, “What did your company say?”

Jiang Liusui didn’t see the point in hiding it from Qin Yi. “They’re giving me the cold shoulder,” he said bluntly.

Qin Yi exclaimed in surprise, “How could that be?! You’re clearly on the rise and have potential. Why would your company make this decision?”

“I’ve had conflicts with someone before, and his family has business dealings with our company,” Jiang Liusui paused, “He also wants the role in ⟪Eternal Bell⟫.”

Qin Yi never expected it to be this kind of situation. “I’ll go check with Director Pei and see what he thinks,” he said.

If the company was outright abandoning him, Qin Yi didn’t know what he would do if he were in Jiang Liusui’s shoes. Qin Yi started to speak several times, but in the end could only say, “Don’t worry too much. I’ll think of another way.”

Jiang Liusui gave a soft acknowledgement, thanked Qin Yi, and ended the call.

Shang Qingzhi, Mu Zhe, and some classmates from the National University of Arts had all messaged him—some asking about the situation, others offering comfort—but Jiang Liusui didn’t have the energy to respond to anyone. AInfluenced by the oppressive atmosphere inside the room, Snowball lay quietly on the balcony, not making a sound.

Maybe it was the stress, or maybe just the day’s chaos, but a dull ache had begun to throb at his temples. Everything had unfolded so quickly today that it felt almost absurdly unreal.

Suddenly, Jiang Liusui asked, “Do you have cigarettes at home?”

Zhou Xun rarely smoked and had to search his room for a while before finding half a pack. Jiang Liusui took the cigarettes and lighter. “Bring Snowball inside. I’ll be on the balcony for a bit.”

Zhou Xun agreed. Snowball was unusually obedient today. Even though he wagged his tail incessantly at the sight of Jiang Liusui, the dog seemed to sense the low pressure radiating from him and didn’t rush over as he usually did.

Jiang Liusui stepped out onto the balcony alone and closed the door behind him.

The balcony was fully enclosed, so he opened the window wide to let the smoke drift away. The heavy sound of rain outside immediately became clearer.

Thin white smoke rose. Jiang Liusui took a deep drag and slowly exhaled.

He gazed at the distant view, the scattered lights of the rainy night shimmering in his eyes. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or maybe resignation, but the restless storm in his chest slowly began to settle.

If Tianguang Media insisted on replacing him, Pei Wen would have no choice but to agree—that would be the worst-case scenario.

Xie Chen was clearly trying to ruin his reputation for the role in ⟪Eternal Bell⟫ and the company had abandoned him. His contract hadn’t even expired, and at this critical moment, no other company would step in to pay him breach-of-contract fees or manage the PR fallout. Even if the storm passed and his contract expired, allowing him to leave Gallery, that video would haunt him like a shadow. If he were an ordinary person, it might not matter, but he was a celebrity whose reputation had to be carefully maintained…

At that thought, Jiang Liusui let out a short, bitter chuckle. “Screw it.”

Half the reason he had entered this industry was out of genuine interest. f it really came down to it, then leaving meant leaving—he had no intention of putting up with this mess any longer.

He had already earned a hefty sum from filming the MV for ⟪Fading Colors⟫ and recording the variety show. On top of that, Ye Yun regularly sent him living expenses, so he had quite a bit saved up. If the worst came to worst, he could always change careers and do something else.
But before he walked away from the industry… since he was leaving anyway, he might as well do it cleanly and decisively—at least that way, his own heart would feel at ease.

Jiang Liusui thought back to Xie Chen’s insincere smile during the audition and took another drag of his cigarette. He muttered under his breath, “If I’d known it’d turn out like this, I should’ve beaten the hell out of him that day.”

***

Jiang Liusui stepped onto the balcony to smoke alone, while inside, Shen Sijia’s fingers scrolled endlessly across her phone.

It was the day the second episode of ⟪Fantasy Holiday⟫ aired. She hadn’t dared to check the trending topic while Jiang Liusui was around, but now she wanted to see for herself what was really going on.

She had hoped that trends related to the variety show would be milder, but instead, a flood of newly registered or usually inactive accounts was relentlessly posting damaging rumors about Jiang Liusui. After being fed these narratives all day, casual viewers were inevitably influenced. Now, across every major platform, public opinion had turned completely against him.

【Jiang Liusui really rose to fame by selling his body? No wonder he became popular so fast—he’s everywhere.】

【He’s been kept by someone since at least his third year of university. How many people do you think have had a turn with him? Judging by how natural he looked in the surveillance footage, he must be used to this sort of thing, hahaha!】

【He just has that kind of seductive vibe. Honestly, if I had money, I’d want to sleep with him too.】

【You guys are speaking way too harshly! What if the situation isn’t actually like this?】

【His company has stayed silent this whole time. Isn’t that clear enough? Stop trying to defend him, sis—it’s hopeless.】

【Let the fans defend him if they want, but it’s useless. Jiang Liusui isn’t making a comeback. I heard he even offended He Yujing. Staff on set said they didn’t get along during the second variety show recording and had a huge fight.】

【He dared to offend He Yujing? He really doesn’t want to stay in this industry, does he?】

【Really? But they looked like they had a good relationship! Sure enough, these so-called “brothers and friends” in the industry aren’t trustworthy. Before, the entire internet was shipping them, and now it turns out it’s just pure comedy.】

“Damn it!” Shen Sijia couldn’t take it anymore and was about to go online and argue with them again. Suddenly, there was a noise at the balcony door—Jiang Liusui was coming back.

Zhou Xun shot her a look, silently telling her to hold it together. Shen Sijia forced herself to calm down. When Jiang Liusui returned to the living room, she made sure not to show any negative emotions in front of him.

“Feeling a bit better?” Zhou Xun asked.

Jiang Liusui’s expression was slightly more relaxed than before. But after being out in the chilly, rainy night, his face was slightly pale.

Seeing Shen Sijia and Zhou Xun both looking at him, Jiang Liusui gave a small nod. “I’m feeling a little better.”

He knew they had spent the entire day worrying about him. Shen Sijia, in particular, had cried more than once out of frustration—but she never dared show it in front of him, sneaking off to the bathroom to wipe her tears in secret.

Jiang Liusui forced a light, easy tone. “It’s okay. If things really don’t work out, I can always change careers. I did the math earlier—I actually have quite a bit of money right now.”

Zhou Xun immediately draped an arm around his shoulders. “Sure. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.”

Seeing that he seemed in better spirits, Shen Sijia quickly chimed in, “Yeah, exactly! Let’s not waste any more time on these idiots! Life’s too short, and there are so many other things you could be doing!”

Jiang Liusui finally cracked his first smile of the day and said softly, “Mm, let’s see how things go.”

Shen Sijia knew how much he loved acting. He’d finally landed a role he truly wanted—it wasn’t in his nature to give up so easily. His words were meant to put her and Zhou Xun at ease.

For a moment, she wanted to ask if he had considered reaching out to He Yujing. If He Yujing was willing to help, there might be a way.

But after hesitating again and again, she kept the thought to herself.

Although she often joked about wanting Jiang Liusui and He Yujing to be together, she didn’t actually know the true nature of their relationship. No matter how much she shipped them, she understood that reality was different from romantic fantasies. The current situation involved complicated interests, and even ordinary friends might not be willing to get involved.

Compared to her, an outsider, Jiang Liusui surely had far more to consider.

With that thought, she completely dismissed the unrealistic idea.

Only two or three days had passed since the incident, but for Jiang Liusui, it felt as long as a week.

He had been staying at Zhou Xun’s apartment, and while Shen Sijia couldn’t spend the night there, she came by every day to keep him company, filling the hours with all sorts of amusing stories.

At one point, Jiang Liusui asked her about the rumors circulating online. Shen Sijia selectively told him what she knew. She understood he was waiting for the final decision regarding the movie. Seeing Jiang Liusui remain calm, Shen Sijia didn’t mention it outwardly, but in her heart, she was constantly worried for him.

During this period, Jiang Chuan hadn’t reached out to Jiang Liusui at all. Qin Yi managed to get through to the chief director of ⟪The Ultimate Guide⟫. The director answered, but explained that too much time had passed—there was no way to verify what had happened, and there was nothing they could do.

Knowing that Qin Yi had no powerful connections and had gotten to where he was entirely on his own, Jiang Liusui didn’t want to trouble him further. If Qin Yi got dragged into this as well, he truly wouldn’t know what to do.

He told Qin Yi over and over not to trouble himself any further. It wasn’t until Qin Yi personally reassured him he would no longer pursue this that Jiang Liusui finally exhaled, feeling a small weight lift off his chest.

The heavy rain had been relentless these past few days, with barely any glimpse of the sun. During the daytime, it let up a little, but by evening it returned with the same endless downpour.

That night, Zhou Xun walked Shen Sijia home, leaving only Jiang Liusui and Snowball in the house. Through the glass door, Jiang Liusui and Snowball stared at each other. He thought about how Snowball had been forced to stay on the balcony for so many days in confinement—he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt wronged.

In a few more days, Zhou Xun’s parents would be back.

It wouldn’t be appropriate for him to stay here any longer—he would have to find a hotel.

Lost in these small, trivial thoughts, his phone suddenly rang.

On the other end, Qin Yi’s voice came through: “I just got off the phone with Director Pei.”

“He went to Tianguang this afternoon and had a huge argument with the project’s investor—banging on the table and everything. Director Pei insisted on casting you, but no matter how much he tried to persuade, the investor firmly refused to take the risk. In the end, the investor even threatened to pull out if they didn’t terminate the contract with you within three days.”

“Director Pei went home and stewed over it for a long time. He just called me now. He knows we’re close, so he asked me to tell you…” Qin Yi took a deep breath, unwillingly saying, “In three days, they might have no choice but to terminate your contract.”

“…I understand.” Jiang Liusui’s voice was quiet. “Please thank Director Pei for me.”

“And thank you too, Qin-ge.”

“Are you okay?” Qin Yi probed cautiously. “How are you feeling?””

“I’m fine. I expected this might be the outcome.” Jiang Liusui thanked Qin Yi again. “I’ve got a few things to take care of, so I’ll hang up for now.”

Qin Yi wanted to say more, to offer some reassurance, but hearing this, he had no choice but to end the call.

Jiang Liusui went into his room, closed the door, and turned on his computer.

He first tried to log into his main Weibo account. Sure enough, the company had already locked it. Jiang Liusui switched to a newly registered account and opened the livestream interface.

Perhaps because his emotions had reached a breaking point, he felt unusually calm, not as agitated as he had anticipated. Jiang Liusui positioned the webcam toward himself and waited patiently as the number of viewers in the live stream gradually increased.

【Who did I just see?? Jiang Liusui?!】

【Why is he suddenly streaming from a new small account? And that name—it’s just gibberish. Why not his main account?】

【What’s he doing sitting there like that, giving us a meditation show?】

【Looks like he’s waiting for more people. Guess he wants to say something.】

The online storm surrounding him had been raging for days. No one expected him to show up in person after three days of silence from his company. Curious onlookers poured into the livestream, spreading the word until the viewer count skyrocketed.

As the crowd grew, all sorts of comments emerged. Jiang Liusui ignored them, sitting expressionlessly in front of the computer without moving.

When the livestream’s popularity had peaked, Jiang Liusui leaned forward slightly, propping his chin with one hand, and lifted his gaze to the camera. “Is everyone here?”

A flood of question marks appeared in the chat.

【What does he mean? He knows everyone’s here for the drama, so he might as well let us watch it all?】

【Dammit, he’s so arrogant.】

“Recently, there’s been a lot of discussion about me online—claims that I willingly accepted under-the-table deals or used improper methods to gain resources. I want to officially state here—they’re all bullshit.”

Even as the comments exploded, he didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow.

“The video released online is incomplete. Before entering the hotel room, I didn’t know anyone was inside. The full video shows someone blocking the door from the outside, so I couldn’t get out. But that part was deliberately edited out.”

“As for the rest…” Jiang Liusui chuckled coldly, thinking of the countless false accusations flying around, “I’ve never thrown my weight around, never bullied classmates, and I certainly never relied on selling my looks to get ahead[mfn]靠出卖色相上位 (kào chūmài sèxiàng shàngwèi) – explicit reference to industry sexual rumors.[/mfn].”

【Who’s going to admit to their own dirty deeds? The company won’t even defend you—at this point, who besides fans, who’s going to believe you?】

【Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. So many rumors—surely the media isn’t all out to fabricate lies about you, right?】

“Of course. If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do,” Jiang Liusui said calmly, unfazed by the flood of harsh comments. “But for the things I haven’t done, you could call me a thousand times—it still wouldn’t make them true.”

“As for why there’s so much nonsense going around … you’re asking the wrong person. Go ask whoever started these rumors.”

Today, he was making things clear for everyone watching. Whether others believed him or how they would judge him in the future didn’t matter—at the very least, he couldn’t just swallow his anger and leave without saying a word.

Anyway, it had already reached the worst-case scenario. Since he was going to leave the industry, he might as well feel at ease before doing so.

The moment he said that, the live chat exploded:

【Wait—what does Jiang Liusui mean? Is someone out to get him?】

【Who has had conflicts with him recently? Can someone dig into this?!】

【Damn! Jiang Liusui is fierce! Not only does he dare to openly say someone is messing with him, but he’s also indirectly implying that Gallery isn’t helping him with PR?! No, the fact that he even dared to go live today already proves that!】

【Respect! Is he planning to leave the industry?】

【Oh my god, he really has a bit of a crazy streak in him…】

【Wow, wow, this is so intense! The livestream is suddenly flooded with people! Gotta say, Jiang Liusui’s momentum has been really strong since he got popular. Whatever he does, a ton of people pay attention.】

【Oh my god, Suisui, I’m about to cry! I’m so angry and helpless, but at the same time, I think you’re so brave!】

【Suisui, don’t leave the industry! Things will definitely turn around!! 】

【I’ve been wanting to say this—his looks are absolutely unbeatable. This is clearly a basic computer webcam, and he’s not even wearing makeup, yet he still looks this good…】

【Are you crazy?? Why are there suddenly so many people defending Jiang Liusui? Are you really letting your morals follow your eyeballs? He starts a livestream and you believe everything??】

【A third of this chat has to be paid trolls. No normal person would just take his side at face value.】

Jiang Liusui ignored the flood of comments once more. After saying his final words, he directly ended the livestream.

His phone, still on silent, began flashing—an incoming call from Jiang Chuan. It was the first time Jiang Chuan had reached out since that morning of the first day. Jiang Liusui pressed to answer.

“What were you thinking?! Someone just told me you were live streaming—I only just found out you went and did this without telling anyone!” Jiang Chuan’s voice shook with rage. He’d never encountered an artist so defiant and hard to control. His voice trembled with anger, “…Fine, fine! You’ve got guts, that’s for sure!”

“You still have a year left on your contract! Don’t think ignoring this will make it go away. Let’s see who suffers more if you keep stirring up trouble—”

No matter how much power the company had, they could only restrict his career within the industry. Before Jiang Chuan could finish, Jiang Liusui indifferently hung up and blocked him.

His actions were swift and decisive. Only after it was done did Jiang Liusui belatedly realize his palms were sweaty. Before he could calm himself down, his phone rang again.

Assuming Jiang Chuan had called from another number, Jiang Liusui was about to block it without a second thought. But when he saw the incoming call display, his hand froze.

He didn’t answer immediately, but the other side seemed unwilling to give up—the phone kept ringing nonstop.

Finally, Jiang Liusui pressed the answer button.

“Jiang Liusui?” came a familiar voice from the other end.

In the Turin Desert, they had completely fallen out. He’d thought this person would never reach out again—yet here he was, calling in the dead of night.

The instant Jiang Liusui heard He Yujing’s voice, a wave of unnameable emotion swept over him, and he gripped his phone tightly without realizing it.

Jiang Liusui responded in a low voice: “…Mm.”

“Where are you?”

Jiang Liusui froze for a moment, the question catching him off guard. He guessed the reason behind it and blurted out: “Aren’t you still abroad?”

“I’m back,” He Yujing’s voice carried a trace of weariness, yet his tone remained steady. “Just landed. Give me a place, and I’ll come find you.”

Drip, drop—

Outside, the sound of water suddenly reached him. Jiang Liusui realized that the heavy rain that had lasted for days had quietly stopped.

“Come out and meet me.” He Yujing was direct. “I know something happened to you. I can help.”

Author’s Note:

Why didn’t he go to the police or hire a lawyer?: The incident with Zhu Renliang happened a year ago. Back then, no one reported it for two reasons. First the production’s head director didn’t want the matter to escalate. Evidence wasn’t collected promptly, and since nothing concrete had actually occurred, there was no way to gather proof. Second, even if they had reported it, the best-case scenario would have been Zhu facing legal consequences. But then what? The result would be Zhu continuing his carefree life after serving his sentence, while Jiang Liusui would completely offend both the investor and the conflict-averse head director, forcing him to leave the production and wait indefinitely for the next uncertain chance somewhere else.

As for the rumors: Even if he knows in his heart it’s Xie Chen, so what? Does he have evidence proving Xie Chen is the source of the rumors? If he goes live and says it’s Xie Chen, should everyone just believe him?

The line between normal criticism and online harassment was blurry—so blurry that no law had fully defined it yet. As a small-time actor with no backing, how could he possibly manage such complex evidence collection and litigation processes without company support? Even if he spent a fortune hiring a legal team, how many of those marketing accounts spreading misinformation could he actually sue? In the absolute best-case scenario where he wins a few defamation cases, how would he publicize his victory to make everyone aware? By buying internet water armies? The reality is that by the time he completes this seemingly successful redemption process, the entertainment industry would have moved on, and no one would still care.

Why not provide medical records: The drug administered to him was merely designed to weaken the body. Medical records would at most prove he visited the hospital for medication and IV fluids. These two things can’t be directly equated, and presenting them under these circumstances would only backfire. Moreover, to mention medical records would require recounting the entire incident in detail—including how he was drugged, how he was ambushed, and even the fact that Xie Chen saved him. Should he pour out his misery like some pitiful story? Most importantly, even after explaining everything, the medical records would be useless as they can’t directly prove he was the victim.

Why not name Xie Chen during the livestream: Doing so would mean openly confronting Xie Chen. Without any evidence that Xie Chen is the mastermind, Xie Chen would only seize the opportunity to counterattack fiercely. At his worst, he could even sue Jiang Liusui for spreading false rumors.

With public opinion overwhelmingly against him, crying injustice and playing the victim online is basically useless. Jiang Liusui even has Xie Chen’s number—should he call him directly during the livestream for an on-the-spot confrontation? That would only result in people cursing him on Weibo for causing a scene, and it would ruin any remaining goodwill.

Some of the above methods could indeed have some effect, such as suing marketing accounts or presenting medical records, but only as a supplement. They only work if the company steps in and the tide of public opinion has already started to turn. The current biggest problem is that Jiang Liusui has no backing and his company has abandoned him. His scandals ultimately don’t cross legal boundaries. If the company were willing to handle PR, to put it bluntly, even negative publicity is still publicity.

He was just a young actor getting his career off the ground, without any connections or backing, his wealth is only comparable to that of an ordinary person. How can he compete with the various forms of capital in the entertainment industry? He can’t even afford his own penalty fees for contract termination. Moreover, his contract with the company still has a year left before expiration. Under such circumstances, there is very little an individual can do—it’s impossible to single-handedly defy everyone and turn the situation around.

The plot direction has long been predetermined, and the writing direction will not shift based on anyone’s personal preferences. If you’re dissatisfied with what you’re reading, you can simply drop the story. Please refrain from expressing a liking for the protagonist’s death as an ending. If you dislike this direction, you can abandon the story without forcing yourself to continue.

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