Chapter Forty-Four: I Haven't Even Made My Move Yet

“Our company has worked with Lin Xing before. Honestly, he has terrible character—always pulling a long face, listing endless demands before filming, and sometimes he’d stare at the female models with a lecherous look.”

“Which celebrities are truly genuine, anyway? It’s all just an act for us. I heard from a classmate that Lin Xing is pretty wild in private, and he curses at the drop of a hat.”

“This is hilarious—Lin Xing is finally being exposed! People used to talk him up like he was a saint. I remember last July when I went to the capital with friends to see him, and I was furious because he actually sexually harassed us.”

“No way, girl—Lin Xing sexually harassed you? I can’t believe it. He’s so handsome…”

“Does being handsome mean you can’t cheat? Or that you can’t buy sex? @Wu Yao, @Qi Shuai.”

…

On Weibo, the topic was gaining traction, with most of the commenters claiming to have worked with Lin Xing, to be his fans, or even his neighbors.

All of them were condemning Lin Xing.

The Weibo controversy had started from an anonymous account on the “Gossip Forum,” where someone claimed Lin Xing had sexually harassed her in the capital five years ago, in May.

It followed the standard formula for an emotional expose.

No evidence, just pure sentiment.

She wrote about how, after five years, she was still suffering from serious psychological issues, depression, unable to go out or face people, constantly questioning whether there was something wrong with her that led to the harassment, and so on.

In short, she pressed every emotional button she could.

The anonymous account insisted she was speaking out now only to warn other women not to be deceived by Lin Xing’s handsome appearance, but she stayed anonymous for fear of online backlash from Lin Xing’s fans.

After all, it had been five years—she had no evidence left.

At the end of her emotional essay, she conceded she knew she’d face a storm of accusations and character assassination, but she wasn’t afraid, and was prepared for the worst.

…

The anonymous post immediately became the subject of heated discussion on “Gossip Net.”

Some people questioned the credibility of an anonymous account.

Others countered—would any girl risk her own reputation just to falsely accuse someone?

Not to mention, the post was clearly written in a state of intense grief.

More importantly, the comments section was full of people agreeing with the story.

“Damn, when I went chasing after Lin Xing last time, I had a bad feeling about the way he looked at me.”

“Exactly, the last time I saw Lin Xing, he kept staring at my thighs.”

“Right? I always thought there was something off about his gaze—turns out I’m not the only one, I thought I was just being oversensitive.”

…

Many people stepped forward in the comments, claiming they too had been harassed by Lin Xing, quickly pushing the post to the top of the trending list.

Then the marketing accounts took screenshots and posted them to Weibo, with captions like, “Is this for real??”

Naturally, discussion on Weibo exploded.

Lin Xing was at the peak of his popularity, so within ten minutes, the topic was trending.

Sister Dao had already told PR and operations to monitor public opinion at all times, so her assistant came to report almost immediately.

“Smart move,” Sister Dao sneered as she looked at the situation on Weibo. “Have PR and operations figure out who’s behind this. I don’t believe there’s no one pulling the strings. And get legal to collect evidence.”

“Understood, I’ll get right on it,” the assistant replied.

Meanwhile, Lin Xing himself pulled out his phone and saw what was happening on Weibo.

It had really blown up.

If this had happened during his slump, even with organized smear campaigns, it never would’ve reached the trending topics so quickly.

It just showed how massive Lin Xing’s popularity had become.

And Sister Dao was right—the other side was clever.

They’d set the timeline five years in the past.

Who could remember details from five years ago?

Worse still, it’s almost impossible to prove your innocence against accusations of sexual harassment.

It used to be that whoever made the claim had to provide the evidence.

Now, as soon as someone posts a heartfelt essay, whether you did it or not, you’re automatically at fault.

At this point, Li Xingchi figured Lin Xing was in real trouble. Respond or not, his public image was going to take a hit.

Satisfied, Li Xingchi basked in the trending chaos on Weibo.

“Great move, Li,” his agent praised.

Li Xingchi smiled at his agent, “Let’s see if Lin Xing can survive this.”

The agent shook his head. “Xingchi, this kind of thing won’t destroy Lin Xing. At most, it’ll damage his reputation a bit.”

“That’s enough. As long as his popularity drops, that’s all I want,” Li Xingchi replied, feeling very pleased. “Alright, Li, keep fanning the flames. When it’s time for us to head to the event, call me.”

Half an hour later, Old Li called Li Xingchi to get ready for the event.

“So? Has Lin Xing’s reputation tanked yet?” Li Xingchi asked, grinning. “It’s been half an hour—the trending topics must be exploding, right?”

“They are,” said Old Li, shaking his head. “But Lin Xing’s reputation hasn’t collapsed. In fact, it’s even improved.”

“What do you mean?” Li Xingchi was incredulous. “How is that possible?”

Old Li said nothing, so Li Xingchi quickly pulled out his phone—and saw a flood of praise for Lin Xing.

“Damn it, Old Li, look at how his team works! The moment there’s trouble, all the publicity money gets poured into trending topics.”

Li Xingchi’s voice was tight with anger. “Go request more funding from the company. We have to bring Lin Xing down, you hear me? Don’t just stand there—move!”

“Lin Xing’s team didn’t intervene,” Old Li said, his expression grave. “Xingchi, we can’t get involved in this any further.”

“Are you kidding? His team didn’t step in? Was it his fans, then? His fan club was disbanded. His fans have no fight left!” Li Xingchi couldn’t believe it.

Old Li looked at him with a sigh. “It really wasn’t the fans—it was ordinary people.”

“Ordinary people?” Li Xingchi still didn’t understand. “What do you mean, ordinary people?”

“Just everyday bystanders. Lin Xing’s public goodwill is much stronger than we thought. So, Xingchi, let’s back off for now. I’ll handle the aftermath and make sure none of this touches you.”

Li Xingchi glared at Old Li, frustrated. “Why are you being so timid? Lin Xing only just made a comeback—so did I! I…”

“If you want to stay at the top, you need to listen to me,” Old Li said, finally showing some steel. “That’s the company’s decision, too.”

At that, Li Xingchi fell silent.

He still knew who really called the shots.

At the same time—

Sister Dao watched the scene unfold online, just as bewildered. “I haven’t even made a move yet…”

…