Chapter Sixty-Seven: A Pleasant Surprise, An Invitation from Mr. Leng?

After Wen Yan left, Bai Ling and the staff finally breathed a little easier. Everything that followed became much easier to discuss. Bai Ling stepped up to soothe Teacher Zhang’s mood and led the children in reading aloud. With her on stage, not a single mishap occurred.

Of course, this was originally just a mundane little event, but set against the contrast with Wen Yan, Bai Ling’s literary talents shone all the more brightly. At the very least, she didn’t mispronounce a single word!

“Comparing the two, Bai Ling, who never went to college, actually seems to have the upper hand in terms of education.”

“That’s right. If I recall correctly, Bai Ling didn’t attend university because of her parents. She started working right after high school to support her younger brother.”

“I think that’s how it went. Speaking of which, I can’t help but want to scold Bai Ling’s oddball parents again.”

“At Zhoujia Village Primary School, the children’s parents all left to work elsewhere, hoping to give their kids a better future; only Bai Ling’s parents…”

“Considering Bai Ling’s life, I can understand why she’s able to speak so insightfully.”

“Exactly—Bai Ling is a victim herself.”

“Let’s go scold Bai Ling’s parents, everyone. It seems those two recently started livestreaming.”

“What? Livestreaming? Are you kidding?”

“No, really. Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang have been streaming for several days now and seem to have made quite a bit of money.”

“They keep running their mouths, calling Bai Ling an unfilial daughter, claiming everything about her is fake and an act, and even accusing her of getting plastic surgery.”

“That’s disgusting. How are people like them allowed to make money streaming?”

“I have to see this for myself!”

“We’re all to blame for letting them run wild online!”

This whole affair was, in a way, rather amusing. Bai Ling’s parents had previously agreed with Wang Tianhai from Xinghui Entertainment to take revenge on her by spreading slander online. Because they were her biological parents, their claims had a strong effect, causing the public’s perception of Bai Ling to plummet.

If not for the professionalism of Bai Ling’s team, and Bai Ling’s own impeccable reputation, they might really have forced her out of the entertainment world.

As it turned out, Wang Tianhai failed to bring Bai Ling down and was deeply dissatisfied. He shifted all responsibility onto Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang, whom he considered useless.

So, the promised half a million yuan was never paid to the couple. Instead, they were chased out by Xinghui’s people, left utterly destitute.

Even so, Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang never once reflected on their mistakes; they continued to believe all their misfortune was their daughter’s fault. They didn’t dare cross Xinghui or reveal any secrets for fear of retaliation, but when it came to attacking Bai Ling, they were fearless.

Adhering to the notion that “any attention is good attention,” they started livestreaming, managing to make several rounds of money. Even though most viewers joined just to curse them, there were still a handful who disliked Bai Ling enough to send them money.

For them, this money was like manna from heaven. It only fueled their resolve to go online and enumerate all of Bai Ling’s supposed wrongdoings. By now, this had been going on for quite some time.

However, once “Invisible Wings” was released and quickly soared to the top, Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang felt the backlash. Hordes of angry comments nearly suffocated them. But with so much easy money at stake, they gritted their teeth and pressed on. After all, the couple were practically illiterate and couldn’t even understand most of the scathing comments in their chat.

By the afternoon, Bai Ling’s side was caught up in the Wen Yan incident. A flood of viewers and netizens, looking for an outlet for their anger, descended en masse—berating Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang in their livestream, furiously downvoting and reporting them.

The commotion was astonishing. The livestream platform received a deluge of negative feedback, so much so that even the platform itself was hit with a barrage of bad reviews. Left with no choice, the platform stepped in and banned Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang’s channel.

Other major platforms, upon receiving backend notifications, also moved to ban the pair. Allowing these two to drag down platform ratings simply wasn’t worth it.

Faced with this situation, Bai Zhengyi and Lin Fenfang were utterly devastated. How had Wen Yan’s commotion ended up ruining their own cash flow? What rotten luck!

Of course, even if they knew the truth, they would never blame Wen Yan. In their hearts, everything was always Bai Ling’s fault!

...

Bai Ling had no idea that, while she was recording the show, her fans had done her such a great service. After handling matters at the school, she felt as if a thorn remained lodged in her heart—a persistent discomfort she couldn’t shake.

Especially when she recalled the pure, smiling faces of the children as the guests departed, a bold idea began to take shape in her mind. It went somewhat against her principles, yet felt true to her heart.

By the time she returned to the guesthouse, Wen Yan had already left, and the heavy atmosphere had lifted considerably.

According to the original schedule, this was the final evening of this season’s episode. By noon tomorrow, Bai Ling’s recording would be complete.

The evening proceeded as usual: cooking, casual conversation. No one at the dinner table brought up the events of the afternoon, wary of dampening the mood.

However, during their chat, Leng Yan suddenly turned to Bai Ling and asked, “Bai Ling, have you thought about releasing a new song lately?”

Wen Haiquan, sitting nearby, teased, “What’s this, Leng Yan? Are you fishing for intel so you can avoid releasing your own song at the same time as Bai Ling?”

Professor Jin Chenglin chuckled and added, “Not a bad idea, actually. I suggest Leng Yan take this advice to heart.”

Everyone laughed. Given Bai Ling’s current popularity, it was foreseeable that many singers might try to avoid releasing music at the same time as her in the near future; otherwise, they’d risk being completely overshadowed.

Facing the seniors’ banter, Bai Ling smiled softly. “Enough teasing, please—I’ve just been lucky, that’s all. Besides, I won’t be releasing any new songs for a while.”

Partly, this was because she’d run out of system-granted opportunities to extract songs from her past life; more importantly, Bai Ling had other things she wanted to do.

Leng Yan sighed, “Is that so? What a pity. I was hoping we could write a song together.”

Everyone glanced over—getting such an invitation from Leng Yan was a true mark of recognition.

Yet, it was curious: Leng Yan always wrote his own music, so why had he brought this up out of the blue?

Unfortunately, Leng Yan didn’t elaborate any further.