Stealing My Ex's White Moonlight - Chapter 18

Overnight, Weibo exploded. The servers crashed repeatedly, and technicians worked around the clock to repair them.

The real-time trending topics list was dominated by several explosive hashtags:

#JiangYou

#JiangYouAndLinWanqingEnterGalaArmInArm

#ChengYunAndSongWeiFleeTogether

#JiangYouSlapsChengYun

One of the parties involved, Shi Mi, was sound asleep when a series of loud knocks jolted her awake.

Peering through the peephole, she recognized her elusive manager, Zeng Mei, who rarely showed her face.

As an 18th-tier actress, the Original Host had signed with a company but still had to hustle for resources herself. This manager was barely better than having none at all.

Why is she here today?

Zeng Mei barged in to find her client sprawled on the sofa, her hair a mess, wearing baggy pajamas, and yawning incessantly.

The apartment was cluttered with clothes strewn across the sofa and belongings scattered haphazardly. It wasn’t dirty, just chaotic, leaving barely any room to walk.

Zeng Mei yanked open the curtains, letting blinding sunlight flood the room. Shi Mi squinted involuntarily.

Seeing her client’s lazy, disheveled state, Zeng Mei’s temper flared. “You’re still half-asleep?! Do you even know what’s happening out there?!”

Shi Mi collapsed back onto the sofa. She had been up until dawn discussing matters with Lin Wanqing and the others, and now she was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

“What’s wrong?”

“The internet is in an uproar! What’s going on with you and Lin Wanqing? And what’s the deal with Cheng Yun?”

Zeng Mei felt like her head was about to split.

She had a strong impression of her artist: gentle, unassuming, and utterly unsuited for the cutthroat world of entertainment.

Since she was under contract, they had given her some minor roles in web dramas, but her career remained lukewarm.

When she refused to play by the industry’s unspoken rules, the company largely ignored her.

How could someone who seemed so docile cause such a massive scandal—and not even contact her about it?!

Impressive.

“Which question should I answer first?”

Zeng Mei pulled up a small stool beside her, meeting her gaze at eye level. “What’s the situation with Cheng Yun?”

“Oh, Cheng Yun and I were in a ten-year relationship.”

“What?!”

Zeng Mei nearly fell off her stool. So, she started dating him the moment she entered the industry? And kept it secret all this time, without a single leak?

Amazing.

I never would have guessed.

“And what’s the situation now?”

“Oh, Cheng Yun wants to break up, but she won’t pay the 50 million yuan breakup fee I’m demanding.”

“……” Could you at least try to sound less nonchalant? And Cheng Yun is such a cheapskate—refusing to pay even 50 million yuan for a breakup?!

She didn’t explain the reason for the breakup, and Zeng Mei didn’t press for details. It was clear the two had fallen out.

“What’s with the photos? Break up if you want, but why resort to violence?”

“She threatened to blacklist me, so I taught her a lesson in manners.”

Seeing her nonchalant attitude, Zeng Mei couldn’t hold back any longer. She pulled out her tablet and flipped to a trending topic: #Cheng Yun Hospitalized After Jiang You’s Furious Slap.

The comments below were a mix of opinions, but rational observers and casual bystanders were outnumbered by bots and paid trolls.

Is Jiang You a martial artist? That was brutal—sending someone to the hospital with just a slap!

Or maybe Cheng Yun is just too weak? Two slaps and he needs medical attention? Hahahaha! Any later and the marks would have healed.

Jiang You is insane! Textbook antisocial personality disorder. She slaps him just because he rejected her confession?

How can someone like this be an entertainer? She’s unfit for the role. Get out of the entertainment industry!

Jiang You is terrifying. Does she have a mental illness? First a slap, next she’ll be throwing punches!

Support banning Jiang You!

Unaware of the truth, bystanders were swayed by the coordinated efforts of online trolls, ultimately trending the hashtag #JiangYouQuitTheEntertainmentIndustry.

“Now do you realize the mess you’ve made? Cheng Yun is trying to blacklist you! Why did you have to resort to violence? Wait, why do you look so detached? Like this has nothing to do with you?”

“Cheng Yun and I are in a legitimate relationship. What’s there to fear?”

Zeng Mei froze, then realized, “Right, we’re actually in the right here. Then why haven’t you posted a Weibo to clarify things?”

“What’s the rush? Let the rumors simmer a bit longer.”

All these trending topics and troll campaigns were bought and paid for by Cheng Yun with cold, hard cash. We can’t let that money go to waste.

Zeng Mei nodded in agreement. Using this incident to boost their popularity made sense—there was no need to rush the clarification. How had she never noticed her artist was so shrewd?

Just to be safe, she confirmed, “So, you had a valid reason for attacking Cheng Yun, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What about you and Lin Wanqing?”

Lin Wanqing’s trending topic was taken down in less than half an hour, and even discussions about it were being censored. Luckily, Zeng Mei had taken screenshots before it disappeared.

Zeng Mei pulled up the screenshot of the trending topic, #TheMysteryBehindJiangYouandLinWanqing’sRelationship, and showed it to Shi Mi.

“Oh,” Shi Mi said slowly. “We were classmates and desk partners in high school.”

“!!!” Why didn’t you mention this sooner? Lin Wanqing! The Lin Family’s precious pearl! Getting on her good side could save you fifty years of hard work!

“What’s the deal between you two? How did you end up attending the same party?”

Shi Mi replied slowly, “Oh, she’s my sugar mama.”

“What—?!”

Zeng Mei was so shocked she nearly bit her tongue. Thank goodness, thank goodness, at least they weren’t entering or leaving a hotel together.

“Then be extra careful when you’re going in and out of hotel apartments! Absolutely, absolutely don’t let the paparazzi catch you!”

Shi Mi: “?”

The incident of Jiang You assaulting someone continued to escalate online, with neither the parties involved nor their companies issuing any response.

In just two or three days, Jiang You gained five to six million new followers. The comments on her latest Weibo post exceeded 100,000, the vast majority of which were abusive and personal attacks. Even the few neutral comments were met with vicious backlash.

How much does each comment pay? I want to get paid for this too.

Is Jiang You your dad? Why are you defending her so fiercely?

I hope one day when you get beaten up, you’ll be just as magnanimous.

Song Wei’s scandal was completely suppressed. It was considered acceptable for a single man to date female models, as long as no laws were broken. The only criticism was that Song Wei’s moral character was compromised, and her public image had collapsed.

As a result, several of Song Wei’s endorsement deals were terminated, and she had to pay substantial breach-of-contract penalties.

Jiang You’s assault case, however, was different. It escalated directly into a human rights issue.

Online, attacking Jiang You became the righteous thing to do.

Shi Mi watched with rapt attention.

It was the same in every world: truth always followed public opinion.

The matter remained unresolved, and Zeng Mei hadn’t left.

She watched her artist sprawled on the sofa, too drained to even complain.

Any other celebrity would have been furious, their PR teams scrambling to manage the crisis. But Shi Mi acted as if none of it concerned her, as if she were merely watching a play. Her composure was almost unnerving.

“Thank goodness no one knows where you live,” Zeng Mei said, glancing downstairs. She saw no paparazzi lurking.

“Should I leak the address, then?” Shi Mi paused. “I’m serious.”

Zeng Mei wanted to slap her. “You think this isn’t chaotic enough?!” she nearly roared.

Even negative attention is still attention, Shi Mi reminded herself, not forgetting her mission.

Sensing the moment was right, Zeng Mei said, “This is a statement the team drafted based on your account of the events, polished for public consumption. Post it tonight.”

Shi Mi glanced at the document—at least four or five thousand words detailing their romantic history, portraying Cheng Yun as a manipulative jerk, and justifying her violent reaction.

It also played the victim card, claiming she had suffered cyberbullying, nervous breakdowns, and depression.

So long, Shi Mi thought, pursing her lips. She pulled out her phone, typed a brief, dozen-word message, and tapped send.

The action was swift and seamless.

Zeng Mei snapped to attention. “What did you just post?!”