Chapter Twenty-Two: Tear It Apart—Lack of Professionalism Is the Norm

“I think ‘Farming With the Stars’ has completely thrown dignity out the window. Seriously, Lin Xing used to be a notorious illiterate, and now he can harvest wheat and cook for a crowd? Do you believe that?”
“I agree, no shame at all. When Lin Xing was filming ‘Farming With the Stars,’ he acted like a diva and refused to cooperate.”
“Laughable. Does anyone still believe what happens in reality shows? Remember that couple who played the loving spouses on a show, but they’d been divorced for half a year and kept pretending?”
...
Tonight’s third episode of ‘Farming With the Stars’ received plenty of praise, but just as many criticisms, especially after 9 PM, when a wave of casual viewers flooded Weibo.
On one hand, these viewers accused the show of faking everything; on the other, they directly claimed Lin Xing was acting like a diva.
That accusation is particularly hard to refute.
Especially when someone who claimed to be a staff member of ‘Farming With the Stars’ said Lin Xing did indeed work in the fields, but his attitude was terrible, and he was disrespectful to everyone.
Once again, it’s clear: a single baseless sentence online can completely overturn your public image.
“Xing Xing, did you see this?”
Sister Dao turned to Lin Xing. “A lot of people are trying to blow this up. What we need now is for the fan club to organize and clarify the rumors, control the comments, and clean things up.”
Lin Xing laughed. “And then?”
Sister Dao was puzzled. “And then, naturally, the negative comments will decrease.”
“Really?”
Lin Xing shook his head slightly. “If fans organize to clarify and control the comments, it’s not cleaning up—it’s annoying. It’ll only irritate passersby. Will the haters admit they’re wrong? Never. They’ll just attack harder.”
Lin Xing had always taken a laid-back approach, never asking fans to flood the comments or control the narrative. His Weibo was filled with genuine fans, never the standardized phrases that make it look like bots.
But ever since this season of ‘Farming With the Stars’—no, to be precise, ever since Wu Yao’s scandal—the comments under Lin Xing’s posts started shifting toward fan club jargon.
“Sister Dao, if you don’t believe me, check again in an hour.”
Lin Xing waved his hand gently. “See for yourself: after an hour of the fan club controlling comments, will passersby like me more or hate me more?”
Sister Dao nodded. “Alright, I’ll check later. Xing Xing, you’ve had a long day, go rest early. Filming starts again tomorrow.”
Meanwhile, online discussions only grew.
Under the trending topic #Farming With the Stars#, there were both haters and reasonable voices.
But the tag #Lin Xing, What Else Don’t I Know About You# had become a battlefield.
No need to mention the haters.
The fan club started controlling comments in unison.
Purifying the space.
But their efforts annoyed everyone.
For example, one passerby wrote under the topic, “I didn’t like Lin Xing before, but his performance in ‘Farming With the Stars’ is really impressive.”
A normal, unbiased assessment.

The result?
Fans gave likes to the passerby, then filled the comments with, “Thank you, Xing Xing is the best!”
Some left a dozen comments, all nearly identical.
If you were a passerby, wouldn’t it feel like someone plastering junk ads in your own home?
Within just one hour, the topic was virtually devoid of passersby.
Just one hour.
Sister Dao watched as Lin Xing, who had initially been trusted by most, and whose improvement was widely acknowledged, suddenly lost all neutral support once the fan club started controlling comments.
“It has to be disbanded.”
Sister Dao faced reality and made her decision. She realized Lin Xing’s foresight was right all along.
Killing the goose that lays the golden eggs.
It’s not worth it.
The next day, Sister Dao told Lin Xing, “I’ve already spoken to the company. We’ll officially disband your official fan club in the company’s name, and encourage rational fandom.”
“Hmm, handle it as you see fit. No need to tell me.”
Lin Xing nodded gently.
An hour later, Lin Xing’s company posted an official statement, announcing the cancellation of his official fan club, advocating rational fandom, reiterating Lin Xing’s refusal to accept any gifts, and strictly prohibiting fans from fundraising to buy him anything.
This announcement cut off the fan leaders’ money-making channels in one stroke.
So the comments were a storm of backlash.
“Hilarious, do you really think that a few compliments from fans makes you a real talent?”
“Unbelievable, a celebrity finally on the rise, and he cancels the fan club?”
“Did a donkey kick your head?”
“Trash, I wasted my affection on you.”
...
Sister Dao simply had the company monitor these sarcastic, abusive comments—no need to respond.
Self-destructive.
Within the industry, people who heard of Lin Xing’s actions sneered.
A celebrity with popularity gives up his fans—what’s he after?
Professional skills?

Do you even have those?
Everyone thought Lin Xing had made a terrible move, that he’d soon face betrayal from the fan club.
Cutting off someone’s livelihood is like killing their parents.
These fan leaders had invested their energy, finally gaining control over the fandom, and now Lin Xing disbanded the club?
How could they tolerate that?
Sure enough, for three days straight, certain people led attacks on Lin Xing’s company, accusing them of stifling Lin Xing’s success.
Not only that, they listed ten grievances against Lin Xing’s company.
A textbook case of fans fighting with an artist’s agency.
Most importantly, they were persuasive and well-argued.
For example, Lin Xing had been with the company for ten years, yet the company was so laid-back, never helping him plan his career.
Now that Lin Xing was finally popular, just when fans needed to unite, the fan club was disbanded.
Plain, irrefutable evidence.
And indeed, some fans believed this was right.
It was like fans attacking the studio, blaming it for hurting their idol, without realizing the studio was actually their idol’s own.
In their idol’s eyes, they themselves are the outsiders.
So the battle raged on, all the way to the 21st.
That day was the premiere of ‘Farming With the Stars.’
Lin Xing finished filming in Sheep City, but instead of flying to the capital, he went straight to record ‘Farming With the Stars.’
Before leaving, [Dima Electric Cars] gave Lin Xing a generous red envelope.
“Mr. Lin, you are the most dedicated and courteous of all our ambassadors. I hope we can continue working together for a long time.”
That’s what General Manager Zhou said as he saw Lin Xing off at the airport.
And it wasn’t just polite words. Over the years, [Dima Electric Cars] had had several spokespeople, but every one of them acted high and mighty.
Someone as professional and polite as Lin Xing was rare.
Though Lin Xing felt it was simply the basic attitude towards work, even so, he outperformed ninety percent of celebrities.
In the entertainment industry, lack of professionalism is the norm.
...
...