Chapter 15

Public opinion has cleared up, and nothing spreads faster than the xx video.

Gu Yi looked at Guan Xingxin, who had a calm expression, even somewhat hesitant, and suddenly thought she seemed a bit eerie. Perhaps it was because she was always around Liang Daiwen, a person whose pupils were pitch black and empty, and this kind of gaze felt like raindrops hitting the face—it’s not painful, but it instinctively makes you alert.

However, Guan Xingxin didn’t feel it. She furrowed her brows slightly and said, “I don’t know what to do. I only have some chat records where he insists he’s single. After his wife caused a scene, he deleted me from WeChat, but still kept a chat app called ‘Lovedate.’ The app only has him on it because it’s hidden under the work-related app category, so his wife hasn’t found it. He insists that he has no feelings for his wife, but because of the public attention, divorcing would be bad for me, so he wants me to wait for a while, and once the storm passes, he’ll come to find me. And… well, once the public opinion settles, he can make more money from fans and give me a better life…” Guan Xingxin took a breath. “But I don’t care about whether he has money. I can support myself.”

There were too many things wrong, and Gu Yi almost didn’t know where to begin. She was silent for a few seconds and then said, “Do you know? If you still love him after hearing that, and putting aside his character, that... it’s really insulting to your appearance.”

“I look like this. The only thing I seem to attract are some weird men. It doesn’t seem to be useful for anything else.”

This did impress Gu Yi. At least she had a clear understanding of herself—not foolishly obsessed with a man, nor arrogantly relying on her looks to win affection. There was a kind of beauty in her, where even when heartbroken, she was still above her friends.

She looked at the screen Guan Xingxin handed her, scrolled through a few pages, and began to get a headache. The texts—”Baby, I really didn’t mean to lie to you. If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do.” “There’s only familial love left between me and her. I can’t get aroused in front of her anymore.” “I think about you all the time. Can you give me a little time to solve this? Can’t you give me that little bit of time?”—were interspersed with emotional manipulation. Sweet words and promises were not “solid evidence”; if Guan Xingxin tried to turn the situation around using these, she was only pushing herself further into a deep abyss.

“So... is there any way to get revenge?”

Gu Yi scratched her head. “What kind of result do you want...”

“He’s still making money off fans. I want him to get hurt by it. His wife thinks I ruined her family, and I’m unwilling... but as a woman, I don’t want to make her suffer.”

A family member of a patient passed by in the hallway, and the two girls fell silent. The night was still long. Liang Daiwen sent a message, a photo of him working overtime. Gu Yi couldn’t help but laugh. What did this mean? A gesture showing his soul is with me?

Guan Xingxin just leaned against the bench in the corridor, lost in thought. She was so tired that Gu Yi leaned against the wall and said, “Aren’t you afraid of brain damage from inhaling charcoal? I feel uncomfortable just from smelling it.”

“To be honest? I don’t feel much, I actually feel relieved.”

Gu Yi looked up at the white lights. There were dead flies in the lampshade, and the mottled pattern didn’t affect the brightness. It felt like hearing pebbles fall into a river, breaking the silence—thunk, thunk. Was this the feeling of a soul being disturbed?

She remembered Liang Daiwen often looked up at the lights too.

Back in the office, Gu Yi stared at the saved screenshots, lost in thought. After reading sweet talk for so long, she was sick of it. The man was unoriginal; what seemed like beautiful words were just song lyrics. A music blogger quoting a mix of Magic Rock’s Three Giants, Chen Qizhen, My Little Airport—huge spans, showing no culture. As evidence, “proof” was like scratching an itch. Gu Yi thought, an experienced scumbag like him, if he collects other ambiguous relationships, maybe they could form a victim’s alliance. And the little fan girls on Weibo, looking at their accounts, all seemed unimpressive. Could he really only like Guan Xingxin?

A playful voice came from behind: “Teacher Gu, you watch gossip too?”

Gu Yi turned around. It was an intern with a lip ring and an eyebrow ring. He moved his chair closer to hers and, with a clear voice by her shoulder, said, “This streamer is really beautiful, like a beauty from a Showa magazine. The guy, on the other hand, is really ‘lame,’ like a scallion pancake run over by a car.”

“She’s my friend, and she’s been kept in the dark. She’s still lying in the hospital, couldn’t handle the pressure, tried to commit suicide, but didn’t succeed.”

“Wow.” The intern wasn’t surprised. “She looks so fragile, like someone who could do something like that. But she better not talk about it, it’ll just make people think she deserved it.”

Gu Yi didn’t respond. Public opinion was an invisible war, and she understood that.

“Do you know Jacqueline really understands crisis management?”

“Oh?”

“Her ex used to be an artist manager. Many celebrities’ crisis management cases are his classics. If you’re curious about how to save your friend, ask her.”

“Am I crazy?” Gu Yi shook her head. “Who has time to slack off and mess with the big bad wolf? I just got fined and the group got an email warning. You—focus on your internship and stop gossiping.”

The boy laughed, shook his head, and slid his chair backward. Gu Yi glanced secretly at Jacqueline’s office. The cold-toned office was empty, with a pot of sharply trimmed lucky bamboo on the desk. Aside from signing contracts and reporting work, no one dared to knock on that door easily.

After getting home and taking a shower, Gu Yi sat on the couch, her head still buzzing with pain. Clearly, Guan Xingxin was just Liang Daiwen’s friend, but every time she thought of Guan Xingxin’s shy smile on that rainy night, she couldn’t help but feel some sympathy. Yu Dule would definitely not send gossip messages at this time. He always waited for conclusions. Instead, Lu Ming sent Gu Yi a message: “Guan Xingxin hasn’t replied to my WeChat. Is she okay?”

“The person is fine, probably just turned off her phone.”

“If you happen to meet her, please pass on this message: these are just small setbacks, life is still long.”

Gu Yi hesitated for a long time, then replied, “After all, it’s no match for Uncle Lu, who juggles repaying debts while finding joy in the process.” To avoid sounding too harsh, she added a meme. Lu Ming responded with a meme and they playfully exchanged images, acting like peers.

The key rattled as Liang Daiwen opened the door. He nodded when he saw Gu Yi, then exchanged information and sat down on the sofa. He said, “She might have to move. She needs to find a place with better security, somewhere that doesn’t receive junk deliveries.”

The room was quiet for a moment. Gu Yi asked, “Are you suggesting I move in with her?”

“You’re a girl, not Ultraman. But if you’re willing to be her friend, she’d make a good roommate.”

Gu Yi didn’t hear him. She had already drifted off to sleep on the sofa. She had only intended to pretend to be asleep to avoid answering, but unexpectedly fell into a deep, drowsy sleep. Half-awake, she murmured, “I’ll move out. You don’t need to worry about me staying here. If you want to change the person you’re helping to Guan Xingxin, that’s fine. This sofa was never really mine...”

“You’re overthinking. I’m not trying to rush you out.”

“I’m not someone who takes advantage of others...”

“And I’m not cold-hearted either.”

“But it really looks like it. Guan Xingxin is still in the hospital, and things are getting worse. Even as a bystander, it makes me sad, so I envy you. It seems like being emotionally detached is a happy way to live, without the pain of things like this.”

“There is pain too.”

“Hmm? Tell me more.”

“I suffer from feeling nothing at all...”

Her sharp features suddenly seemed to show emotion, as if the phrase “shifting gaze” was coined for someone like her. Gu Yi wanted to reach out to comfort her, but as soon as her fingertips touched, it felt like the ripple on the water was broken, leaving only the undercurrent surging. Struggling to open her eyes, she found the sky just beginning to brighten, and the sofa beside her was empty.

Guan Xingxin hadn’t been discharged, and the situation was escalating. The original wife continuously posted on Weibo, tagging Guan Xingxin, accusing her of ruining their family. One post even included an ultrasound image, claiming that because her husband had cheated, she suffered a miscarriage due to heartbreak. Choosing sides is a staple in the world of public opinion, and with the child involved, Guan Xingxin’s private messages on Weibo were flooded. When the office door opened that morning, there was a sanitary napkin stuck to the glass, with what appeared to be red ink, but the maliciousness was enough to make the company feel it wasn’t enough to fire a mistress like Guan Xingxin.

The original wife’s tone was full of grief and righteous indignation: “I know I’m not a beautiful woman, my best years have passed, but I’ve lost both my lover and my child. Please, Miss Guan, come out and give me an explanation. When you destroyed my family, did you have any basic humanity left?”

Gu Yi stared at the ultrasound image, wondering to what extent someone could be so obsessed with their family to the point of losing all sense of reality. What was it about the man that made this all so intense, or was the world falling apart just because of a divorce?

She didn’t fully understand the reasoning, but the situation made her angry, and she couldn’t focus during the meeting. Jacqueline had spent half an hour discussing a topic, and just as the meeting was breaking up, she said, “Lindsey, stay behind.”

The office felt a bit cold. Gu Yi and Jacqueline sat on opposite sides. Jacqueline’s voice was low and quiet, “Is there anything more important than work? You were spacing out during work hours.”

“No.”

“If things aren’t busy enough, you can take on more interns.”

Gu Yi suddenly spoke up, “Does someone who’s been directly nailed to the shame pillar as a mistress still have a chance to turn the public opinion around?”

Jacqueline looked up at her. Maybe her expressionless face resembled Liang Daiwen’s, but Gu Yi, emboldened, continued, “I heard there’s a music blogger on Weibo whose wife keeps accusing him of having an affair, but it seems that’s not the truth. It seems unrelated to work, but I still want to ask you, Jacqueline, I heard you’re very good at handling this kind of thing...”

After saying that, Gu Yi swallowed nervously. Jacqueline didn’t speak, instead looking down at the documents she was holding. The office grew even colder. Just as Gu Yi was about to apologize and leave, Jacqueline spoke softly, “Emotions are weapons for the weak. Whoever holds them holds the power. But reasoning doesn’t attract attention like a fight does. Public opinion loves gossip— the more vulgar and explicit, the better.”

Gu Yi listened intently.

“As long as the heat hasn’t died down, if this innocent girl shows weakness, she could bring out more gossip, which might save her. Because the strong side, the one pushing logic, will lose momentum.”

After work, Gu Yi took a taxi to Guan Xingxin’s new place. Guan Xingxin was sitting on a wooden bed, her eyes red from crying. When questioned about whether she had any salacious gossip with enough potential to spread, Guan Xingxin bit her lip and said, “Actually, we have a shared Baidu cloud drive, and there’s some stuff in it.”

“Huh?”

“At this point, I don’t care about his wife’s feelings anymore. She humiliated me.”

Then she shoved her headphones into Gu Yi’s ears. Gu Yi stared at the video that had been downloaded onto her phone, her eyes wide, turning her head back and forth in disbelief: “Oh my...”

“He has this kind of fetish...”

After watching the video, Gu Yi said, “If you’re sure you want to post this, I can help you word it.”

Guan Xingxin smiled, that eerie expression returning to her face: “I’ve already been labeled as morally corrupt to this extent, so what more do I have to lose? After I post this, I don’t want to be the victim or the good girl anymore. I just want to be myself.”

In the middle of the night, Guan Xingxin posted two Weibo messages. The first was a series of nine images of flirtatious conversations where the music blogger pretended to be single while dating her. The second was a secretly recorded video from a hotel room, showing the man, who liked recording sex videos, saying a damning line before things got heated:

“What are you doing here?”

“My room’s charger is broken, I’m just here to charge my phone.”

“You can call the front desk and ask for a room change.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“I booked two rooms and stayed next to you. I’ve been accompanying you on late-night tours around Zeng Cuo An and went to Gulangyu. It’s the third day now, and you still haven’t figured out what I mean? We’re both single, and I’m pursuing you.”

“……”

“You didn’t think I brought you to Xiamen just to talk about folk songs, did you? Don’t hide, don’t be afraid. I love you. I really love you.”

“Is it true when you say you love me?”

“Of course. I’ve had a rough road with relationships. Before meeting you, I hadn’t been in a relationship for two years. Actually, being single is fine, but the moment I saw your photo, I couldn’t control myself. Don’t be scared, it won’t hurt…”

The video ends here. The man who came to charge his phone set it up to film and uploaded it to the shared album with Guan Xingxin. He deleted it from WeChat but forgot to remove it from the cloud drive—more accurately, it was Guan Xingxin who, unwilling to part with it, saved it to her own cloud drive. After editing, only her shoulders and legs were shown, and the more revealing parts were blurred out with a mosaic, but under the dim light, the faces of both individuals were clearly visible. There’s nothing more viral than a video titled “Hotel Room Video.”

Guan Xingxin’s caption had only a few lines of text: “I’m very sorry for responding only now. I’ve been in shock and sadness because I unknowingly destroyed someone’s family. Chen Yijin insisted he was single while we were dating, and out of fear, I had to believe him. He insisted that such videos, because they were explicit, proved his love. He had an album, and looking back now, it was probably full of videos where he pretended to be unmarried to deceive unsuspecting girls. To protect more girls’ privacy, I hope he deletes them. I also hope that girls are treated well and don’t easily fall into such shadows.”

The situation quickly turned around. Guan Xingxin’s video was only on Weibo, and as it was shared with the caption, more and more girls retweeted it. The music blogger’s Weibo was soon filled with criticism. When his wife defended him, netizens mocked her: “How is this woman still not awake? Her husband has been secretly filming so many girls, and she still thinks he’s a treasure?”

“I suddenly think the broadcaster is very brave. To clear her name by releasing such a video—how pathetic...”

“Agreed on the right side. And she also said more girls are victims. What a scumbag!”

The original post with the B-ultrasound photo was quickly found. The pixelation was a bit shallow, and the two characters, as well as the age starting with “1,” were visible. The screenshot in the bottom right corner wasn’t cut cleanly, and the ID seemed to belong to a nine-character user; while the original wife’s ID had three characters plus an underscore, and her real name was Li—she had stolen another person’s B-ultrasound photo in her rush to attack the third party.

The couple was ridiculed repeatedly, and after this, their relationship seemed to strengthen. As for Guan Xingxin, who had been the center of the storm, she was gradually pushed out of the topic—her foolish opponents had unintentionally helped her escape the public scrutiny. Some people still harassed her with the video on Weibo, but Guan Xingxin responded calmly: “I’ve found some fun in playing the villain.”

Gu Yi didn’t reply, and Jacqueline was urging her to come up with new topics: “We have a meeting at 6 p.m.”

Opening her computer and staring at the summary of the limited-edition brand gift boxes for the New Year, it was the first time she had been caught up in such a situation, and her fingers were slightly trembling.

Life’s invitations are like Pandora’s box—seemingly symbolizing happiness, but once opened, private desires awaken, and it becomes impossible to avoid hypocrisy, competition, and entanglements... Maybe one would give up out of exhaustion, and even if they win, they wouldn’t necessarily feel free. But this red, supposedly good-luck gift always entices, because when it’s obtained, no one wishes for anything less than genuine happiness.