Volume Two: Shadows of the Past, Chapter Forty-Four: The Reversal

“After Xu Ce debuted, he quickly rose to fame and became a top-tier singer in less than two years,” Lin Xi said slowly.

Chen Jing felt a bit embarrassed hearing this. For Lin Xi, calling someone a top-tier singer was as casual as mentioning a head of cabbage. After all, all of Xi Jie’s artists rose to stardom rapidly after signing contracts. Whether it was Xu Ce, Su Tingting before, or the Guofeng girls, they all reached top-tier status within a year or two. Chen Jing himself had crossed that threshold in less than two months.

Lin Xi continued, “Later, due to some issues, Xu Ce and I went our separate ways. He chose to sign with Tomorrow Entertainment Co., Ltd., and I followed suit by becoming Su Tingting’s manager. Since then, I haven’t been in contact with him.”

Chen Jing looked at Lin Xi suspiciously. “That’s it?”

Lin Xi rolled her eyes at him playfully. “That’s it. What else do you want to hear?”

“Oh.” Chen Jing felt sure there was more to the story between Lin Xi and Xu Ce, but since she wasn’t saying, he didn’t press further.

Seeing that Lin Xi didn’t want to continue the topic, she shifted gears and asked, “By the way, a few days ago when you were singing at Maple Creek Bar, someone recorded a video and uploaded it online.”

“Ah? That? Let them post it. I just won’t admit it’s me,” Chen Jing responded nonchalantly.

When the topic finally moved away from “exes,” Lin Zitan finally dared to speak up with a smile. “No, they’ve already recognized it’s you, Ah Jing. You can’t deny it anymore.”

“Why?” Chen Jing was surprised. Had he been exposed somehow?

“Because Maple Creek performed that song yesterday and publicly announced that ‘The Rain Keeps Falling’ was the fourth song you gave to the bar. Since you provided the song, everyone assumed the man who first sang it that night was you.”

“Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that,” Chen Jing scratched his nose, embarrassed.

“Are you really not planning to record and release singles for these four songs?” Lin Xi frowned at Chen Jing. “Many people have left comments asking you to officially record and release these songs online. Otherwise, they can only listen to low-quality live recordings.”

Chen Jing thought for a moment and replied noncommittally, “Then I’ll record them. Let’s do ‘Midnight Serenade’ and ‘Uncontrollable Love.’”

Lin Xi looked puzzled. “Only those two? What about ‘Goodbye’ and ‘The Rain Keeps Falling’? Aren’t you recording those?”

“No,” Chen Jing answered decisively.

Lin Xi didn’t ask further, but Lin Zitan was curious and asked, “Why not?”

Chen Jing smiled faintly. “Because of the sentiment.”

“Uh…” Lin Zitan was at a loss for words, unable to grasp the sentiment Chen Jing spoke of.

Lin Xi wasn’t bothered by this. What she really wanted was for Chen Jing to record ‘Midnight Serenade.’ That song was a true classic, and it would be a shame not to release it as a single.

That afternoon, Huang Wenhao finally made a formal statement regarding the rumors about his marriage.

“In response to recent claims that I have gotten married, I admit that I indeed have. The reason I hadn’t told everyone before was simply to protect my privacy as an artist, not because I wanted to deceive anyone for the sake of a public image. If this has caused anyone trouble or hurt, I sincerely apologize. I also want to apologize to the fans who have always believed in me. This time, I truly made a mistake.”

As soon as Huang Wenhao’s Weibo post went live, the public reaction exploded.

“I never thought Ah Hao really got married!”

“Damn, I trusted you so much, and you really got married.”

“Trash artist, deceiving the public. Let’s all boycott him.”

“Yeah, boycott him and kick him out of the entertainment industry.”

“To be fair, he just didn’t expose his marriage history. That’s his personal privacy. Isn’t it normal not to reveal it?”

“Exactly, I don’t get why people think this way. Did Huang Wenhao break the law or something? Always wanting to cancel others? Have some shame!”

“It’s just jealous people who can’t stand others’ success trying to smear him. This happens all the time in the entertainment industry.”

“Smear him? Are you kidding? Isn’t it true that he hid his marriage?”

“…”

Public opinion was divided, but most people were simply spectators. Honestly, hiding one’s marriage history wasn’t a big deal. If it weren’t for some intentionally hired internet trolls exaggerating the matter, the storm would have passed quickly.

While the debate raged on, someone noticed that Chen Jing had started posting as well—and his post was clearly in support of Huang Wenhao.

“Love needs protection. Excessive exposure only brings unnecessary harm to love. Brother Hao, I believe in you and envy the fairy-tale romance you share with your wife.”

Soon after Chen Jing’s post, a group of internet trolls began spreading details about Huang Wenhao’s marriage.

“I looked it up. Huang Wenhao’s wife is named Li Xinru, who is also his current manager and secretary. Most importantly, Li Xinru and Huang Wenhao were high school classmates. They started dating in college and had a long-term relationship lasting five or six years. Even after Huang Wenhao became famous, he didn’t hesitate to marry Li Xinru and even took a year off from the entertainment industry for her. So do you still think he was hiding it on purpose?”

Then the trolls enthusiastically promoted the celestial love story between Huang Wenhao and his wife, instantly turning public opinion around.

“Wow, they’ve been together since high school and had such a long relationship. To marry at the peak of his career—that’s true fairy-tale romance.”

“Exactly. If I were Huang Wenhao, I’d choose to keep it private too.”

“Yeah, Chen Jing is right. Too much exposure can spoil love. When my relationship was exposed, I lost her forever.”

“Brother, condolences. Was it because your parents opposed it after the exposure?”

“Yeah. One day, I was watching an adult movie and couldn’t help but get intimate with my girlfriend. The door wasn’t properly closed, and my parents caught us.”

“Uh, that shouldn’t have caused your breakup, right?”

“Nope. My parents said that masturbating too much was bad and told me to find a new girlfriend.”

“…”

As public opinion gradually shifted, Chen Jing posted another Weibo in response to Xu Ce’s earlier criticism of Huang Wenhao’s singing.

“Those of us in music know it’s not just people who choose songs; songs also choose people. That’s why I thought ‘Lonely Sandbar’ suited Huang Wenhao best, which is why I gave it to him and not to others.”

This post was like a slap to Xu Ce’s earlier claim that anyone could become popular singing “Lonely Sandbar.” Chen Jing’s loyal words were warmly received, especially by Huang Wenhao’s die-hard fans, who couldn’t help but praise him.

“Boss Jing is awesome! Long live Boss Jing!”

“Chen Jing’s values are absolutely correct.”

“I was just going to watch from the sidelines, but since Brother Jing has come out to support Huang Wenhao, we definitely have to back our ally.”

“Chen Jing’s right. I can’t stand those singers who sour grapes because they can’t have a hit. Talk all you want, but what use is bragging if you can’t chart?”

“…”

After Chen Jing posted those two Weibo messages, Jingrun’s stars like Ling Ruohan and Xue Yue also posted in support of Huang Wenhao. Thus, the smear campaign against Huang Wenhao online was completely overturned. The irate netizens returned to Xu Ce’s Weibo to engage in heated battles with his fans. Xu Ce stopped posting statements afterward and even deleted his most heavily criticized “sour grapes” post, leaving only one exposé.

“Yes! Ah Jing did an amazing job. Finally won a comeback,” Huang Wenhao exclaimed excitedly in the office after seeing Xu Ce delete the post attacking his singing.

Li Xinru smiled and said, “That counterattack was brilliant. It must have been planned by Director Lin.” As a fellow Jingrun manager, no female manager didn’t admire Lin Xi. To them, Lin Xi was a queen who had earned their respect through sheer talent and strength.

“By the way, we didn’t know each other in high school, right?” Li Xinru suddenly asked Huang Wenhao.

Huang Wenhao nodded. “Right. We didn’t know each other back then. We were in different classes. How does he know?”

Li Xinru asked curiously, “Then how does Ah Jing know that you two were high school classmates?”

Huang Wenhao shrugged. “Um, he called me to ask if we went to the same high school. I said yes, then he hung up and posted that Weibo.”

“Hehe, Ah Jing really knows how to make things up.”

“Who cares? Same school counts as classmates, right?” Huang Wenhao said casually. No one would scrutinize that anyway. What mattered was that he and Li Xinru had been together since college.

“Okay.” Li Xinru shook her head and then picked up a data sheet. Looking at the recent numbers for “Lonely Sandbar,” she sighed. “Such a pity for this song. It could have broken some records.”

Huang Wenhao patted her hand comfortingly. “It’s okay. There’s still a chance. Besides, there’s Chen Jing. If necessary, I’ll shamelessly ask him for another good song, haha.”

With Huang Wenhao’s matter temporarily settled, Chen Jing returned to his regular writing routine. Recently, besides writing, he had been working hard on scripts. That’s right—he no longer intended to just act and adapt to filming but planned to direct and star in his own first movie.

(End of chapter)