Chapter 64: The Ones Who Feel Betrayed Choose to Leave in Silence

Just as Liu Rulan had suspected, after about an hour of silence, Su Shengxi and his agency Jiaxing Entertainment issued a statement at the same time, claiming that this slip-up was the fault of Su Shengxi’s junior assistant and had nothing to do with Su Shengxi himself. They also announced that they had dismissed that assistant according to regulations, asked fans to discuss rationally, and warned them not to be manipulated by malicious actors.

At the same time, they sincerely wished that the film Killing Life, which Xiao He participated in, would be a huge hit, and said they would buy tickets internally to show support.

So no matter how you looked at it, Killing Life was indeed today’s biggest winner: it received massive free publicity and also brought in a substantial box office sum. Director Hou was probably smiling so much his face would crack.

Seeing that final outcome, Xiao He felt a little disappointed, but he also knew this was the end of the matter—someone else would take the fall as the assistant.

Besides, since he had painstakingly squeezed Xiao Chen out of his job, it was only fitting that Xiao Chen should take the blame and lose his position over this incident.

After browsing online for a while longer, Xiao He received a call from director Hou Rongxuan.

“Xiao Xiao, I really have to thank you for this one!”

Hou Rongxuan’s voice was full of warmth; even over the phone it couldn’t hide his grin.

Xiao He replied politely, “I didn’t do much. Even without this incident, Killing Life would have blown up.”

“Haha, but you saved us a lot of promotion costs—”

Hou Rongxuan chuckled, “Kid, your luck’s pretty good. Next time there’s a script, we’ll definitely find you!”

In this industry, a lot of people still believed in that sort of metaphysical luck.

Xiao He understood what Hou Rongxuan meant and didn’t say more, only smiling and answering, “Alright, I’ll be waiting. If it’s a super-big villain role to scratch my acting itch, that’d be perfect.”

“You brat, you’re getting picky!” Hou Rongxuan teased, “Then just wait!”

“Always ready for Director Hou’s summons—”

While Xiao He and Hou Rongxuan were chatting, the online situation unexpectedly shifted again…

In her room, Insomniac for Xi watched Su Shengxi and his company’s clarification and curled her lips in a somewhat sarcastic smile; a wave of weariness rose up inside her.

She had followed Su Shengxi since his audition days. Back when he debuted at center stage, her votes were indispensable—her efforts had solidified Insomniac for Xi’s steady position among the fans.

But now… the boy who once cried and thanked his fans, tears soaking the stage, had grown up. He was starting to forget his beginnings: falling in love, deceiving fans, stabbing colleagues in the back, gradually abandoning the fans who had stood by him all these years…

Insomniac for Xi was tired.

She felt it was time to leave.

Yet just as she was about to post an announcement about quitting the fandom, she stared at Su Shengxi’s account and suddenly frowned.

Something felt… off.

As one of Su Shengxi’s most dedicated fans, Insomniac for Xi checked and bookmarked every one of his posts and comments—she knew his Weibo history like the back of her hand.

But this time…

She found the clarification post strange, as if it had been posted from a different device.

Harboring that ridiculous suspicion, she opened the clarification announcement, the screenshots of the assistant’s phone account, and Su Shengxi’s previous posts, gradually confirming a possibility that was painfully ironic for fans—

[Insomniac for Xi: [screenshots] x9, @Su Shengxi, can you explain who has really been running your posts and fan interactions all these years? You say the assistant mistakenly operated Su Shengxi’s account—how long has the assistant been managing it? Why have all the recent posts supposedly from “Su Shengxi” been from the same device, and why is that device the same as the assistant’s? You changed your device once last year, but if I remember correctly, that happened right after you fired your assistant Xiao Chen, so you’ve never logged into your own account personally, right?]

As a wealthy, well-known fan with nearly half a million followers on Weibo, Insomniac for Xi’s money and social charisma had gathered many bystanders and casual fans; some even treated her like another kind of idol. Her post inevitably poured more fuel on tonight’s fire.

Netizens who had just been passively watching suddenly erupted.

Holy—this is worth it tonight!!!

Immediately, everyone turned into amateur detectives, combing through Su Shengxi’s Weibo for any suspicious clues…

By the time Xiao He hung up the phone, the internet had already confirmed that Su Shengxi’s accounts were not run by him personally but were entirely operated by his assistant.

Key point—“entirely” run by the assistant.

That meant all the comments and posts in his Weibo over the past few years had not been handled by him at all.

Although people generally accept that celebrities hand most accounts to managers or assistants, at least let them personally post once in a while, right?

What was worst was that many replies in the comments were styled exactly like Su Shengxi’s own tone and phrasing, and fans usually assumed those replies were from him personally.

And now you pull this stunt?

There was no way to wash this off: if Su Shengxi denied that the account was assistant-run, he’d be admitting he accidentally liked the insulting comments about fans and Xiao He; if they didn’t deny it, then the assistant-running claim would be proven.

It was the longtime fans who knew how to strike the most deadly blows. Insomniac for Xi even dug up a two-year-old magazine interview where Su Shengxi himself admitted he often read fans’ private messages and comments, and that when he felt sad or down he drew strength from fans’ care.

Seeing that now was bitterly ironic.

[Insomniac for Xi: I just want to ask on behalf of the fans who truly loved you back then—Su Shengxi, how many of your words were honest? Where did you get your strength? Oh right, it sure as hell wasn’t from us fans, not from the people who voted you up one ticket at a time…]

Insomniac for Xi’s words hit hard; they reflected a disillusioned fan’s final question to her idol. She didn’t expect Su Shengxi to respond. After posting this roughly eight-hundred-word post, she disbanded the fan club and group chats she had created.

[Insomniac for Xi: I’m not like some people who toss promises aside. I won’t take back my earlier vow to buy tickets to support Killing Life. After all, I did join in the criticism of Xiao He back then, so I will hold ticket screenings at Pacific Cinemas in Rong City, Shanghai, and Beijing. I’ll have others post the details on the platform—if anyone’s interested, you can pick up tickets directly, open to anyone, first come first served. I’m deleting this account now. Farewell, everyone.]

After that final post, Insomniac for Xi never came back online.

Everyone knew she wouldn’t come back.

Following Insomniac for Xi’s move, Su Shengxi’s accounts on various platforms began losing followers en masse—an exodus that far outpaced the previous exposure of his romance scandal.

—Compared to Insomniac for Xi’s dramatic uproar, more fans chose to leave quietly.