Episode 6: Cyberbullying

The Starlight Gala was underway.

The red carpet stretched along the whole street, flashbulbs firing like bullets, lights gathered in one hall, and everyone was watching this annual Starlight Gala. Countless stars would come to the scene in gorgeous evening gowns, while fans cheered for their idols, screams and cheers filling the venue with a lively buzz.

Fan Shiqi wore a perfectly tailored black suit, walking steadily, his expression calm. This was his most glorious moment. It had taken him ten years to get where he was today, and his face was full of pride now. Hearing the fans cheering on the red carpet, he felt immensely honoured. When he had debuted ten years earlier, he had carried a dream, and at last he had become a top star.

Three years ago, he had been Yu Mengge's closest friend. They had entered a contest together and made the top ten of "Go for It, Singer!", though Yu Mengge had stopped at the top ten, and the two of them had become musical partners. Three years later, he had become a red-hot singer — and also prey on the internet.

A week earlier, an anonymous account had broken the news:

"Fan Shiqi was once a rich woman's lover. Before he became famous he hung around nightclubs, rose to the top by serving drinks, frequented all kinds of nightclubs, and became some well-known person's lover."

Then several blurry photos and old surveillance clips leaked — a nightclub corridor, a woman's hand, the outline of half his face, and even claims that he had served men too.

Public opinion exploded instantly. Every forum and short-video platform carried the same line: "Fake and pure, pretending to be innocent, a drama queen licking the golden rice bowl."

The entertainment world is full of such gossip. To him it was routine, and people would soon forget it all. After all, other news in show business would quickly cover it up. He did not care at all — exposure was what mattered.

On the night of the gala, the livestream drew more than five million simultaneous viewers, and the comment feed below was full of curses aimed at him: "Get out!" "This liar!" "A gigolo who rose by being kept!"

The host smiled radiantly, but her tone was like a hidden knife: "Mr. Fan, would it be convenient for you to respond to some of the rumours circulating about you?"

The camera cut in close, countless phone lights aimed at him. Fan Shiqi breathed lightly, his smile freezing for an instant. Feigning composure, he forced a faint smile and explained:

"I don't have that kind of past. Those photos are fake."

His tone was calm, his voice low and hoarse, yet the calmer he was, the more it revealed a stubbornness backed into a corner.

Laughter came from the audience. "You can know a face but not a heart. This entertainment world really is a mess…"

A female reporter held out a microphone: "Then how do you explain this video? And the transfer records between you and her?"

The big screen projected screenshots: transfer amounts, dates, locations.

The venue fell silent for a second, then flashbulbs burst all at once. The media, as if they had caught the headline, kept photographing the expression of the man at the centre of it all. The clicks of camera shutters were audible, flashbulbs kept firing, and he was beginning to find it hard to cope.

Fan Shiqi's breathing quickened, his palms sweating. He tried his best to control his emotions. This was not the first time he had handled such a scene. Forcing a smile, he said, "That was… money she invested in music, not—"

Seeing how awkward he was, the host cut him off at once, still smiling: "We respect every artist's choices, but the audience also has the right to know."

Someone in the audience muttered a curse: "Disgusting!"

Someone laughed loudly: "What good acting — he even plays innocent convincingly."

Someone else sneered: "I really don't understand why he got famous. Turns out he slept his way up too—"

The barrage comments in the livestream surged like a storm:

"Stop pretending, the rich woman's face has been exposed!"

"Disgusting man. Even dead, Yu Mengge looks down on him!"

"Another piece of trash who climbed into bed to get ahead."

Fan Shiqi's eyes were red. His hand unconsciously tightened around the microphone. Struggling to keep his smile, he said, "Please respect the dead, and respect me too."

But at that instant, a photo suddenly flashed across the big screen — an old photo of him standing shoulder to shoulder with Yu Mengge. In it, Mengge's smile was extremely faint, as if in fog, or as if glancing back from the edge of death. In that instant, Fan Shiqi's back went cold, his face tightened and turned pale, his expression very unnatural, his eyes darting, his breathing hurried.

A caption popped up on screen —

"The truth will always be sung out."

The whole venue stirred. The audience was also surprised to see, under the gaze of thousands, the long-missed old photo of Yu Mengge again, and the barrage comments flooded in:

"He's back."

"Our little Yu is back!"

"Brother Koi!"

The live audience cheered along too. Their long-dormant feelings were stirred up again, as if their memories had revived.

Some thought it was a technical fault. The venue's speakers let out a harsh screech, every screen dissolved into static, the host kept her professional smile but could not hide the panic at the corners of her eyes, red lights flashed urgently backstage, technicians hammered frantically at their equipment, and the other stars gasped in alarm. What was going on? The whole venue was in chaos.

Fan Shiqi's face looked pale in the shifting light and shadow. He gripped the microphone tightly but could not utter a single word for a long time. He seemed to hear nothing at all. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, his expression very unnatural, and he could not even walk.

Looking at Yu Mengge's face, he suddenly felt something whispering in his ear —

The voice was extremely soft, yet perfectly clear:

"They pushed me into hell. This time it's your turn. Act Two has begun! The audience will witness a rebirth beneath the lights."

The lights came up again, and the host awkwardly smoothed things over: "Er, there may have been some interference at the venue."

But Fan Shiqi's hands were trembling. He took one heavy step, no longer knowing how to face it all.

He looked out over the packed venue and the cameras filling the sky, and suddenly realised these smiling faces were colder than blood.

Cameras and crowds had become the sharpest instruments of punishment.

On that night of flashing cameras, Fan Shiqi stood under the magnesium lights, his expression pale. Behind the stage was the angry wave of the media; microphones like guns, cameras like blades, each stabbing at him.

Someone shouted, "Mr. Fan, online it says you were kept by some rich businessman for years. Is that true?"

Another voice followed at once: "And someone else broke the news that you used to entertain clients in nightclubs! How do you explain that?"

Countless livestream cameras crowded in, as if to capture every inch of his breathing. Fan Shiqi suppressed his emotions as best he could, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly, his voice kept very low. "It's slander. I never did those things…"

But the moment he finished speaking, the giant screen suddenly lit up —

A blurry surveillance clip played. In it, a figure who looked extremely like him seemed to be talking intimately with someone in a dim private room. The person in the video was deeply insecure, and to please others had once sold his very soul.

The whole venue exploded instantly. Noise, clamour and accusations surged like a sea tide, and the audience suddenly understood too. In a moment the whole venue lost control.

He wanted to speak in his own defence, but countless voices drowned him out:

"He's nothing but a plaything!"

"He really is a fine actor!"

"So this is how wild everyone in this circle plays!"

"He turns out to be a liar, forever so filthy — compared with Yu Mengge, he's far behind!"

Fan Shiqi's gaze gradually grew hollow and weak. His expression was dazed now. Looking at those faces that wore sympathy yet held up phones to take pictures, he suddenly realised — this world does not thirst for the truth, it only thirsts for prey.

On social media, "#FanShiqiKeptManScandal#" and "#YuMenggeCaseFlaresUpAgain#" shot rapidly up the trending lists.

The entertainment company swiftly cut its contract, partner brands issued statements "suspending cooperation", concerts were cancelled at once, and some film and television works were pulled immediately. The artists who had once drunk and laughed with him quietly unfollowed him.

That night, Fan Shiqi's social media account was flooded with millions of comments. Some cursed him, some mocked him, some pretended to care, all kicking him while he was down, and some questioned him about the Yu case from three years ago.

— No one really wanted to know whether he had been framed.

Because in this world, "the truth" is too dull, while "a story of a fall" is good enough to watch.

He left the venue on a night when the starlight had dimmed. Years of effort collapsed in an instant. To prove himself, he had returned to square one overnight. It turned out that "rebirth" was happening right before the audience's eyes.

At the end of the corridor was a mirror, reflecting his dishevelled figure.

At that moment, he suddenly remembered — the night Yu Mengge fell, that figure he had never dared to go and see.

He murmured softly, "So even death can be turned into a topic."

Midnight, twelve o'clock.

The rainstorm poured on without stopping. The whole city seemed shrouded in shadow, dark clouds massed like the gloom in people's hearts, and the violent storm swept through, telling the story of a fall in every corner of the city. The hero of the story could be anyone, but no one could guess the ending —

Fan Shiqi sat alone in his apartment living room. No lights were on. The television screen flickered with a deathly blue light, and the air was filled with a damp cold. For him, this day had been like a nightmare. His former glory had vanished completely in a single day.

For the first time he felt fear. Faced with this sudden turn of events, he could no longer cope. His agent told him to rest for a few days first. She would handle some public-relations problems, and in the coming days he should avoid clashing with anyone, lest the media seize on something. After some time, the public would forget these things.

His phone buzzed, startling him.

An unknown number.

— With a short video attached.

He hesitated for a few seconds, then tapped it open anyway.

At the start of the footage was a blurry surveillance image: a rooftop on a rainy night, someone standing by the railing. He turned back to look at those people, a disdainful expression on his face. Then the wind howled, blowing his clothes about, yet he still wore an unyielding expression.

The camera zoomed in — it was a familiar face.

Yu Mengge!

He hung his head, his lips moving slightly, as if saying something.

In the background of the video, another man's voice could be heard — blurry yet piercing.

"Fan Xiao Che, why did you, like them, not save him…"

Fan Shiqi trembled all over. The phone dropped to the floor, and his whole body kept shaking. The light of the screen made his face deathly pale, his eyes wide, his expression strange.

He remembered that night.

He remembered that rainy night, that deal, those big capital bosses, and the night of screams. He would remember it for a lifetime. He had thought no one would ever know, and that as time passed, many people would forget. But the person in that video clearly remembered everything —

His gaze gradually blurred, as if he were back in the past, entering show business together with him. But to rise to the top, he had spared no cost, even betraying his best friend. He hated him — hated him for being too perfect, hated him for being too kind.

But that night, Yu Mengge had fallen to his death from a building.

Yu Mengge had been dead for so many years. Why did he have to come back? Why did he have to appear before him? He had thought everything had been buried by time, that he could forget his existence. Why did he have to return like a ghost? And now, this recording was like a knife cut, reopening his long-sealed memory.

He frantically picked up the phone and searched his phone records wildly, trying to find the source, only to discover that the message — had vanished.

No sender, no time, no trace.

The air in the room grew heavier and heavier. The painting on the wall seemed to sway. The rain beat against the glass, like someone whispering outside the window: "You are one of the murderers. You envied his talent, envied his looks, envied everything about him. You are just a piece of trash —"

He covered his face with both hands, his expression changing at once, and laughed tremblingly, shouting out:

"I did nothing wrong…"

"I just wanted to survive…"

"He chose his own path. I didn't push him…"

His voice rose higher and higher, his nerves taut, almost hysterical.

Finally, he collapsed on the floor, curled into a ball, his fingers clawing at the carpet, as if tearing something apart.

A bolt of lightning split the silent night sky, and the light turned toward the window —

Then another bolt of lightning split the night sky. Its afterglow lit a window of the building across the way. A dark figure stood opposite his building, watching him. Then another bolt of lightning flashed past —

There, there seemed to be a human figure standing.

The face, blurred, yet smiling.

— In that instant, Fan Shiqi's mind collapsed completely.

That rainy night, it rained all night long. Pedestrians on the street held umbrellas, walking through the city centre. Busy people still strove just to live, and the internet was bustling too. People discussed the day's hot news, and some self-media outlets even made a whole series of reports about it. To attract traffic, there was nothing they would not do.

Situ Hengyi was at the city bureau centre, reading through the files on the Yu Mengge case, but there was very little there — almost as if the history of his existence had been wiped away. He was only a star, so why would the authorities do this? What were they trying to hide?

Lin Fan had been dragged along by him to look up information. She pulled out her phone and cried out in surprise, "Wow!" She immediately covered her mouth and said softly, "Boss, look, there's big news!"

Situ Hengyi looked exhausted and indifferent. He replied, "What big news could there be? World War Three?"

Lin Fan said quietly, "More exciting than World War Three!" She feigned mystery and chuckled. "Fan Shiqi has been cyberbullied. Turns out he used to be a gigolo!"

Situ Hengyi listened to her while listlessly continuing to flip through the files. "Show business is full of scandals anyway. Don't go chasing stars all day. It's working hours now, not star-chasing—"

Lin Fan shot back, "Boss, Fan Shiqi and Yu Mengge were friends. They debuted together and were with the same entertainment company. Today he was exposed online, and people say he's connected to the Yu case?"

Situ Hengyi instantly perked up, snatched the phone from her hands, and scrolled through today's news, related reports, and netizens' comments — a real mixed bag. "They know each other? Fan Shiqi has had his past dug up? This isn't a coincidence?"

Lin Fan broke into a cheerful smile. "Boss, do you think they could be a gang committing crimes together?"

Situ Hengyi keenly sensed where the breakthrough lay. "Lin Fan, go back and check Fan Shiqi's entire file, plus his gossip incidents. Organise it and send it to me!"

Lin Fan looked curious. "Boss, are you going to chase stars too?"