We won the lawsuit!
The young presiding judge ordered *Aige* and Han Qin to jointly compensate “The Fish Swimming Upstream” 80,000 yuan for reputational damage!
In addition to the compensation, the magazine must publish an apology in the October issue of *Aige*… and isn’t it just like a young judge to think so creatively? The apology must appear on the same page as the original “contract termination statement,” preventing *Aige* from sneaking it onto an obscure page to dodge the ruling.
As for Han Qin, she was ordered to personally publish an apology on the Tianya Forum and, additionally, in a newspaper designated by “The Fish Swimming Upstream.”
A double punishment in both the online and real world—Han Qin must be feeling quite bitter.
“The 80,000 yuan compensation is more than we expected!”
Zheng Zhihe was thrilled. After receiving the judgment, he called Wen Ying during the lunch break.
He had anticipated around 50,000 yuan, so 80,000 was a surprise.
An extra 30,000 or so might not matter much to Wen Ying herself, but this case was significant. In the future, other judges might refer to this Chengdu court’s ruling for similar cases.
The internet is not a lawless place, nor is the real world.
Reputation is a person’s dignity, their face, not to be violated lightly. Most people don’t realise this until they face consequences and learn restraint!
Wen Ying was equally delighted. “Thank you for your hard work, Lawyer Zheng! I’d like to designate *Chengdu Evening News* for Han Qin’s apology announcement!”
The local newspapers in Chengdu had given *Teen Idol* tremendous support. Now, with this victory, it was only right to share the fruits with them.
After hanging up with Zheng Zhihe, Wen Ying contacted Zou Weijun.
“Auntie Zou, we won!”
“Yes, we did.”
Zou Weijun’s voice carried joy, confidence, and a readiness to dive into action. “Since you’ve chosen *Chengdu Evening News* for Han Qin’s apology, why not authorise them to publish the full judgment too? The *Evening News* has always supported you and has high circulation in the province. It’s a perfect chance to clear your name!”
Zou Weijun sought Wen Ying’s opinion.
Now that even Wen Ying’s parents knew about her novel-writing, keeping her pseudonym under wraps no longer made much sense.
Wen Ying understood this was also for *Teen Idol*’s promotion and saw no reason to object.
With a pseudonym, she could live more quietly.
Without it, she could still be a diligent student. Look at Li Mengjiao—so famous, yet still attending school. If a key provincial school could accommodate a popular idol, it could surely embrace a bestselling author.
In fact, compared to a popular idol, the school would likely prefer having a bestselling author among its students.
However, she didn’t immediately agree with Zou Weijun, planning to discuss it with her parents first to get their approval.
Old Wen’s opinion wasn’t crucial, but Chen Ru’s act of drawing a turtle on the settlement agreement really resonated with Wen Ying. She was gradually learning how to get along with her parents—sometimes it wasn’t about following their every instruction, but informing them was a way to show respect.
“I personally agree to publishing the judgment, but I need to tell my parents first. As for the magazine and Han Qin, they might not accept the first-instance judgment, but that doesn’t affect us. If they’re unhappy, let them appeal!”
Anyway, this lawsuit only benefited Wen Ying, with no downsides. If the magazine and Han Qin insisted on adding fuel to *Teen Idol*’s publicity, Wen Ying wouldn’t stop them.
Come once, get hammered once—she wasn’t afraid at all!
Wen Ying figured Han Qin probably wouldn’t have time to appeal. This lawsuit was over, but another one awaited her.
Sigh, it’s almost a pity. If Han Qin kept being stubborn, *Teen Idol* could sell even more copies.
…
Today was the first day of the new school term, and Wen Ying had smoothly moved up to Year 2 of high school.
A new year, a new classroom, and receiving the court’s judgment on the first day—this day was perfect for Wen Ying.
If there was any small regret, it was that she could no longer see Qin Jiao on campus.
But that wasn’t a bad thing. Friends always move toward their own bright futures, and Qin Jiao had gone ahead to experience university life a year early.
Wen Ying, Xie Qian, and Li Mengjiao were now in Year 2, while Wang Shuang, Geng Xiao, Tang Yifeng, and others had become Year 3 students.
Song Chan was also now a Year 3 student.
Song Chan didn’t know what was wrong with her. Ever since she accidentally learned that Xie Qian was “The Fish Swimming Upstream,” she’d been looking forward to the new term.
The Year 2 and Year 3 buildings faced each other, and Song Chan’s classroom was quite close to Year 2, Class 16, separated by a greenbelt. The school had planted many ginkgo trees in the open space between the buildings and built a large pavilion for students to relax in.
In the mornings, many students recited English vocabulary in the pavilion. At noon, it became a makeshift canteen, with students bringing lunchboxes from the cafeteria to eat there. After eating, they didn’t always leave right away—sitting in the pavilion was simply more enjoyable.
Students and office workers shared a similar mindset: workers didn’t want to return to their desks, and students didn’t want to go back to their classrooms. This was a shared resting spot for Year 2 and Year 3 students.
Looking out from her classroom window, Song Chan saw Xie Qian, Wen Ying, and Li Mengjiao in the pavilion.
Wen Ying was on the phone nearby, while Xie Qian and Li Mengjiao were talking.
The three were the famous “iron triangle” of Class 16, always together.
As Li Mengjiao’s fame grew, some bored people started pairing her with Xie Qian. Previously, girls thought no one was worthy of the perfect Xie Qian, but now, a big star like Li Mengjiao was deemed just about suitable.
The term “CP fans” didn’t exist yet, but a teen star and a campus heartthrob made a pretty appealing pair.
Xie Qian and Li Mengjiao?
Song Chan shook her head secretly, thinking Xie Qian wasn’t as shallow as other boys his age. Not that Li Mengjiao wasn’t good, but Xie Qian probably wouldn’t like such a loud, boisterous girl!
Xie Qian would likely prefer someone smarter, with more depth… After all, he was so low-key himself, never revealing that he was the author of *Teen Idol*.
According to Uncle Wan, *Teen Idol*’s sales were nearing 200,000 copies. In just one month since its release, nearly 200,000 copies sold was staggering. This book could well become a million-copy bestseller.
What bestselling author was this low-key?
Only Xie Qian!
Some writers, despite average looks, were overly confident in their appearance, neglecting their writing to package themselves as idol authors.
Xie Qian was different. With looks surpassing idol stars, an incredibly sharp mind, and writing talent, he never showed off.
Song Chan propped her chin, gazing toward the pavilion, her thoughts drifting. Little did she know that in the pavilion, the teen star and campus heartthrob weren’t a couple at all. The teen star, upset over poor test results, was being teased by the heartthrob and wanted to hide in a hole.
While Song Chan imagined how low-key Xie Qian was, Li Mengjiao just wanted to complain to Wen Ying.
—Wen Ying, my bestie, stop talking on the phone and come manage your boyfriend!
Xie Qian frowned slightly. “Why are you looking at Wen Ying? She can’t take your exams for you.”
Li Mengjiao’s eyes darted away, not daring to voice her thoughts.
Wen Ying hung up the phone and walked over, all smiles. “I asked my mum, and she agrees to publish the judgment in *Chengdu Evening News*!”
