Wen Ying was both amused and touched.
The earnest one even felt wronged.
“Teacher Yuan is right.”
Wen Ying first acknowledged Yuan Fenghui’s stance, stopping Li Mengjiao from going off track: “At times like this, if you post articles supporting me, you’ll only attract more fire from those critics without much effect. Don’t rush to argue—listen to me first. You’re from the entertainment industry, and you yourself are controversial. This year’s talent shows are even more popular than last year’s, but many people criticize these star-making shows, saying they have a bad influence on teenagers. If you come out to support me now, they’ll just use that chance to attack together!”
Since debut, Li Mengjiao had faced doubts before, but because she balanced acting with studies and maintained a positive public image, criticisms didn’t really hurt her — her haters couldn’t find major flaws to attack.
At such a sensitive moment, Li Mengjiao throwing herself into the line of fire wasn’t wise. No wonder Yuan Fenghui opposed it.
Though Wen Ying looked calm, she was really just enduring, with no other choice.
Heavy lies the crown — she had to adjust her mindset and hypnotise herself to see the criticism as a test on the road to success.
When feeling good, she would read the reviews and take note of reasonable suggestions; when in a bad mood, she’d dismiss the insults as nonsense. After all, no one came right up to yell at her face — if they can’t, then it’s as if it doesn’t exist!
Wen Ying was good at managing her emotions. Li Mengjiao, however, didn’t see it that way.
Young people value friendship above all else, and adults don’t weigh pros and cons as much. Even though Wen Ying made her stance clear, Li Mengjiao didn’t change her mind.
“Let them insult! I’m not afraid!”
“Not only am I not afraid, I asked Yun Chen and Zhang Yangning — they’re both willing to help you.”
Li Mengjiao swore she didn’t force Yun Chen or Zhang Yangning; they volunteered to help on their own.
“Qin Jiao has called me several times to ask what’s going on. If you tell us to stay out of it, are we even friends?”
Wen Ying was headache-stricken.
Li Mengjiao’s stubbornness was single-minded, persistent in pursuing dreams and difficult to talk down.
— Teacher Yuan must be infuriated.
“I know you want to help, and I believe everyone means well. But we’re on different paths. If you post articles, fans will lose reason… Mengjiao, stirring up fans’ emotions is dangerous. Once you taste success, you’ll keep relying on this method. It’s a double-edged sword.”
Wen Ying’s tone became serious.
She understood all too well what crazed fans could do — they’d do anything for their idols!
Wen Ying didn’t want to incite fans to argue with critics, whether fans of others or her own readers.
That’s why she stayed silent.
It wasn’t that Wen Ying enjoyed being insulted without reply — at this moment, any response from her would pour oil on the fire.
If Li Mengjiao, Yun Chen, and Zhang Yangning’s fans joined the fight, the situation would worsen, sparking a huge online battle with personal attacks and cyberbullying — proving critics right that the contest and its supporters were vulgar and uncultured. Emotional fans would ruin bystanders’ goodwill, scaring off people who originally supported the contest and Wen Ying.
The conflict would start with Li Mengjiao and company, and when she tries to stop it, it might be too late to control all the hyped-up fans.
After brief victories, it would bring long-lasting harm to Li Mengjiao and her friends.
Li Mengjiao was clueless about Wen Ying’s reasoning.
By then, Xie Qian had finished the throat lozenge. When he spoke again, the cool sensation spread pleasantly in his throat, making Wen Ying more tolerant and patient towards him:
“It’s useless.”
Li Mengjiao spun her head quickly, “You doubt my influence?”
So annoyed.
She clenched her fists.
Anyone blocking her from helping Wen Ying was her enemy, even if that person was Xie Qian… Hmph, if Xie Qian couldn’t give a convincing reason, then don’t blame her for disrespecting him!
Xie Qian’s gaze was like he was looking at a fool:
“You’re a celebrity in film and TV, Wen Ying writes novels. Your fans can boost your ratings, buy your albums, vote for you, even listen to you to buy Young Idol. But if you pit them against critics, can they win? A writer’s pen is a deadly weapon. Twisting facts won’t make them submit, only give them ammo. You’re not helping Wen Ying — you’re making her die faster by getting her ostracised by the whole literary world.”
Wen Ying was reserved in speech; Xie Qian was more direct.
Li Mengjiao froze and blushed.
“That doesn’t mean doing nothing!”
She regarded Xie Qian as her last hope:
“Xie God, you’re so smart, you must have a way to help Wen Ying, right? Wait, Wen Ying’s been insulted for days, everyone is worried about her, but you haven’t done anything and even went to Modu over the weekend… Xie God, you must already have a plan!”
Li Mengjiao was sure Xie Qian was confident.
Otherwise, why would he be so calm?
After all, as Wen Ying’s boyfriend, if his girlfriend was being insulted, and he had no reaction — Wen Ying would kick him out. No matter how smart or handsome, he wouldn’t do.
Wen Ying was suspicious too.
Xie Qian was obviously not cold-hearted and wouldn’t watch her suffer silently.
So why did he spend two days in Modu?
Wen Ying now suspected he didn’t go for the logistics business.
He went to Modu to find help, didn’t he?
Wen Ying was eager to know. Forced to take the throat lozenge, Xie Qian was teasing by not revealing anything.
“Wait and see. The twist is best saved for the end.”
Xie Qian dropped this line and left Wen Ying and Li Mengjiao to rack their brains guessing.
Argh, people who talk halfway and leave are the worst!
However, Li Mengjiao’s courage to “rebel” had disappeared. If Xie Qian didn’t want to say it, she wouldn’t dare to ask.
That day, Wen Ying felt the tension in Zou Weijun and Yuan Fenghui had relaxed.
After school, when reviewing manuscripts at the magazine, Mrs Wang came by with snacks, smiling brightly.
Not like a few days ago.
A few days ago, everyone worried about Wen Ying’s mood, and Mrs Wang rarely smiled. Today everything changed — so something must have happened, everyone knew but she didn’t?
Wen Ying looked around.
The old literary youth Song Foxiang was still grumpy.
Bald editor Wan muttered something weird.
Zhang Guangzhen glanced at manuscripts, then looked at Wen Ying with concern, hesitated, then sighed secretly.
Zhang was almost too cute! Such obvious “secret glances” were already noticed by Wen Ying!
Wen Ying relaxed.
It wasn’t just her being kept in the dark — Zhang Guangzhen and others were also clueless!
She patiently waited for Xie Qian’s “twist.”
She had a guess, but wasn’t sure if it was right.
— Hmph, let those critics enjoy their happiness for two more days!
Wen Ying was very generous.
In fact, even giving the critics two more days wasn’t possible.
Just one day later, two critics Wu Chunqin had contacted were still writing intensively.
Master Fu’s article was published in a nationally influential newspaper like a sudden thunderclap, stunning many critics.
Fu Lao’s article was titled Why I Became a Judge for the Essay Contest.
What essay contest?
What judge?
The title itself sounded ominous!
Fu Lao was a renowned figure in the literary world. Naturally, many industry insiders paid attention to his article.
Fu Lao was actually a judge for the Tianjiao·Xinghuo Cup Essay Contest!
Such a huge announcement should have been made earlier!
When Wen Dongrong saw the newspaper at work, he quickly skimmed the article and slammed his palm on the desk.
“Well said!”
Did Black Heart Cotton see the paper?
Wen Dongrong held back his urge to call — Black Heart Cotton was in class and couldn’t answer.
No matter, sooner or later it was the same — such an important newspaper, such a prestigious column, such a literary authority — Black Heart Cotton shouldn’t get blamed now!
Wen Dongrong didn’t admit he cared about Black Heart Cotton; he just hated those critics spewing rubbish.
Exactly.
That’s how it was.
Despite his words, he couldn’t stop himself dialing Chen Ru’s number.
Chen Ru didn’t answer.
Maybe receiving clients?
Wen Dongrong then called Old Li. Old Li answered but said he was in a meeting and hung up.
Finally, Wen Dongrong’s eyes rested on Deng Shangwei’s name.
Thank heavens Deng Shangwei answered, or Wen Dongrong would have been suffocated.
“What? Reading the paper? Good, sis-in-law. I’ll have someone buy a copy right now!”
Such straightforwardness was exactly what Wen Dongrong wanted to hear.
Why had he never noticed Deng Shangwei was so direct and obedient?
Apparently, he had missed a lot all these years!
Wen Dongrong was satisfied and hung up.
On the other side, Deng Shangwei wiped his face — the newly arrived batch of goods was a bit wild; a phone call splashed water on him.
Deng Shangwei wiped his face. “Quick, get me today’s daily paper.”
An employee unloading fish: “…”
A seafood business owner who loved reading and newspapers — what could employees do?
Not only that, employees, to have common topics with the boss, had to force themselves to read newspapers, sometimes doubting if they worked at a seafood company or a government office!
……
Wen Dongrong guessed right — Wen Ying had indeed seen the paper. Unlike Wen Dongrong’s quick scan, Wen Ying read Master Fu’s article word by word.
At the start, Fu Lao made a bit of humour: he was advised by his doctor to reduce his work hours and adjust his diet; his family worried he’d fall and helped him on stairs — all signs of aging.
“Am I old now?”
Fu Lao asked and answered himself.
“Physical decline doesn’t mean mental rigidity; I wear reading glasses but am not blind. On the contrary, with age, my mind sees more clearly. As long as I’m not forced into physical contests, I’m still young! People should know themselves. Physical aging is inevitable; everyone has their expertise. I would refuse judging sports contests, but this is a literary essay contest — I think I barely qualify?”
— You’re being too modest. You’re not just qualified, you’re more than qualified.
