Chapter Forty-Three: Fame Always Invites Envy

Sister Dao was right—this time, Lin Xing was truly back in the spotlight.

His social media followers had surged by more than 800,000 in just half a month, and every single one of them was a real person. Previously, the comments on Lin Xing’s posts barely reached a few hundred. After Wu Yao’s scandal broke, Lin Xing’s comments soared to several thousand. Thanks to his performance on “Farming with the Stars,” that number surpassed ten thousand. But now, his comments had shot up to tens of thousands.

His most recent post was a retweet from the official account for “Just Waiting for You,” celebrating the show’s top ratings on its second day of airing, more than half a month ago. That single post had already amassed eighty thousand comments.

This was the treatment reserved for the hottest stars.

Even more astonishing was that, aside from a handful of generic fan comments, the vast majority of those eighty thousand responses came from casual viewers. There was no organized fan control or spamming. Some even urged Lin Xing to post more, saying that now that he was so popular, he ought to be more active online.

Long-time fans replied, “As someone who’s followed him for a decade, I can tell you Lin Xing has always been this laid-back. If he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have faded into obscurity for so long. Now, it seems he’s truly sticking to his roots!”

In short, the comment section was lively and bustling.

Though Lin Xing hadn’t posted anything since that celebratory retweet, content creators were busy editing and sharing clips of him everywhere. As a result, his popularity skyrocketed, with his name trending constantly.

The rapid ascent of his fame drove his stats through the roof and overshadowed many others in the industry—people like Li Xingchi, for example.

Li Xingchi was particularly aggrieved. He had just managed to revive his career with a hit fantasy drama, and the wave of popularity was still cresting. Suddenly, Lin Xing’s portrayal of Du Fei stole all the attention.

How could he stand for this?

Li Xingchi didn’t mind if superstars like Chu Chen, Niu Xiang, or Bian Pengtao were more popular—they were simply in a different league. But Lin Xing? Who did he think he was?

“Well? Did you dig up anything?”

Li Xingchi’s anxious question was directed at his manager.

The manager could only offer a bitter smile. “There’s really nothing to dig up. Lin Xing is strangely clean—there’s not a single piece of dirt on him.”

“Useless! What’s the point of keeping you around?” Li Xingchi barked. “Old Li, if it weren’t for your years of loyalty, I’d have had the company replace you long ago.”

This manager had been with Li Xingchi since before his rise, even drinking himself into a hospital just to help Li Xingchi land a good role. Back then, Li Xingchi had been much more respectful and even promised, “Brother Li, thank you. When I make it big, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.”

Thanks to the manager’s relentless efforts, Li Xingchi landed the breakout role in his hit fantasy drama. For the first half-month after his success, he remained grounded, but soon enough, “Brother Li” became just “Old Li,” and his temper grew, along with his refusal to listen to advice.

“Xingchi, I really think we don’t need to pay so much attention to Lin Xing—after all…” the manager tried to counsel him.

But Li Xingchi cut him off sharply. “Can you do this or not? No wonder my fans say you’re not clever enough. If you can’t find any dirt, make something up! Do I have to teach you everything? How did Lin Xing land that endorsement with Deya Electric Bikes? Who does he think he is?”

He practically gritted his teeth. “Now he’s gotten another wave of fame with Du Fei, and you’re telling me to ignore him? He’s overshadowing me now—what’s next? Will he start stealing my endorsements, my roles?”

The manager knew there was no point arguing further. “Fine, I’ll take care of it. There are already people trying to sabotage Lin Xing. He won’t know who’s behind it.”

Li Xingchi finally smiled. “That’s more like it. Besides, Lin Xing deliberately shut down his own fan club to act all high and mighty. If we make a move, he won’t have anyone to back him up.”

“I’ll get on it now,” the manager replied after a moment’s thought.

“Old Li, just make sure you handle this well. Don’t let me down. If you can’t even do this, I won’t be able to stop the company from replacing you,” Li Xingchi warned.

Old Li nodded slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll do my utmost to ruin Lin Xing’s reputation.”

Envy always follows fame.

That’s the norm in the entertainment industry. If you become truly popular, you’ll be surrounded by friends—but just as many will be secretly plotting your downfall. Not just the young stars; even veteran actors have been brought down by scheming.

Because of this, Sister Dao exercised extreme caution during this period, going out of her way to keep a low profile. She also monitored online public opinion from every angle, determined to prevent any unforeseen incidents.

As for Lin Xing, he simply continued living as he always had. He wasn’t about to let sudden fame disrupt his way of life. Unlike people like Li Xingchi, who lost themselves after years of obscurity and then a burst of success, Lin Xing remained unchanged at his core.

He stayed in the capital for two days. During that time, Sister Dao hadn’t managed to find him a suitable script—good scripts are rare—but she did secure a decent role for Lin Miaoyin.

Lin Miaoyin’s character was no mere pretty face. She was to play a woman ruled by her heart, determined to marry a man she fell in love with at first sight, regardless of his lack of money, car, or savings. The role required her to shift from a pure, idealized love to dealing with a scoundrel, demanding a fair bit of acting range.

After discussing with Lin Xing, Sister Dao had decided to revise Lin Miaoyin’s career plan. Besides, Lin Miaoyin had earned considerable praise for her hard work and diligence on “Farming with the Stars,” standing out among the other female guests.

It was precisely because of her performance on that show that Sister Dao managed to secure this role for her.

“Thank you, Sister Dao. Thank you, Brother Xing. I’ll do my best!” Lin Miaoyin returned to the company, gazing at them both with heartfelt gratitude.

“I’ll get you an acting coach in the next couple of days. If you have any questions about the script, ask your coach…” Sister Dao advised. “If you don’t want to be just a pretty face, you’ll need to work harder than anyone else.”

“I will,” Lin Miaoyin promised, shaking her fist. In her heart, she vowed to live up to her idol—not just in looks, but in skill as well.

“Sister Dao, something’s happened!”

Just then, Sister Dao’s assistant burst through the door, her voice urgent.

…