True and False Daughters 20
It seemed that both of his real daughters now had someone close to them. When Qin Jingzhou looked again at his precious girl, He Chunxi was sitting side by side with her childhood friend Shang Xi on the sofa, leaning against each other. Even though their heavy eyelids fought to close, they were both clearly trying to stay awake. The pair’s fortune, too, was steadily declining.
It was blatantly obvious by now—Jin Li was orchestrating her own suitors and “followers,” directing a performance in which hired commenters “dug up” the fact that He Chunxi was the daughter of the “scumbag ex-husband” publicly denounced by Madam Xiao.
And since the Du family father and son had worked hard to build hype at just the right moment, the internet trolls deliberately concealed the truth about the switched daughters between the Du and He families. Instead, they kept repeating that He Chunxi bore a long-lasting grudge over a few petty squabbles, using her birth father’s identity as a Capital University professor to pressure multiple production teams.
Elsewhere, that member of the first production crew to break contract—who now had no choice but to halt work—couldn’t hold back and started leaking more innuendo and snide gossip of her own.
The male and female leads, already “under orders” to teach He Chunxi a lesson, couldn’t restrain themselves either. Convinced that this was a rare chance to gang up on someone down on their luck, they eagerly shared “freshly made-up” stories with unsuspecting netizens.
The mob instantly stirred. If only one person says you’re a problem, maybe that’s on them. But if so many voices all chime in together, then you must be truly awful!
That was the effect of “a thousand mouths can melt metal.”
Fortune was closely tied to reputation. The more netizens disliked He Chunxi, the faster her fortune waned—pulling Shang Xi’s down with hers. Of course, the one exception was Qin Jingzhou, whose power to change the world single-handedly meant that public opinion simply had no bearing on his status. Whenever he wished, he could shelter his precious daughters with a mere thought.
That was why Qin Jingzhou could calmly observe the turmoil, waiting to see what the center-of-attention system would do after feeding on enough fortune.
Over on the official side, several leaders had met and agreed that Jin Li had likely already been assimilated to some extent by the BT001 clinging to the back of her head. She was now in the “gather a crowd” phase, which meant a big move was imminent.
The leaders were happy to support Qin Jingzhou’s approach, eager to catch everyone in one swoop. They wasted no time in approving cooperation with whatever he planned.
Gao Wen received the word from higher-ups and immediately relayed it to his boss.
Qin Jingzhou nodded and gently nudged his precious daughter, telling her to go rest—there was no need for her to keep him company out of stubbornness.
He Chunxi was indeed tired, but not because she was careless or heartless. Even though the web was howling for her blood as though she’d committed an unforgivable crime, as long as her father was here, her sadness lasted only a moment before she regained her composure.
Now that her dad told her to sleep, she listened. She got up to bid him goodnight, then dragged her childhood friend Shang Xi back to the neighboring room.
Shang Xi was completely exhausted too. His head had hardly hit the pillow before he was sound asleep.
With their son sleeping deeply, Shang Xi’s parents suddenly discovered their social media accounts had been hacked. Anxious and livid, they tried reaching platform admins but got nowhere. When the two parents finally contacted each other, it only took a few words to guess exactly who was behind all this “mischief.”
If you dare hijack a personal account, go on, try hacking an official one next, why don’t you?
That night, Shang Xi’s father convened the Shang family’s legal and PR teams, carefully drafting a flawless lawyer’s letter and publicly posting their backend login data as evidence.
The PR team boosted the post’s visibility, only to find that when they shared the lawyer’s letter and evidence from the Shang Group’s official account, it got buried by the platform.
Shang Xi’s father gave a grim laugh in his anger. “So the social platform thinks it rules the world now?” He glanced at his assistant. “It’s just about throwing money at it, isn’t it?”
Shang Xi’s mother wasn’t one to mess around either. Without hesitation, she contacted the vice president of Capital University, who was in charge of external communications.
Even while abroad on academic exchange, she’d caught wind of things at the university… Besides, even if Professor He weren’t making a name for herself, she could never slander the girl she’d watched grow up, He Chunxi.
The vice president didn’t hang up her video call and quickly gathered the facts from his assistant. Once he understood, he contacted an old professor who had helped draft relevant legal provisions to help with writing an official statement, then hurried his staff to post it from the university’s official account.
Half an hour later, the vice president, Shang Xi’s mother, and the old professor all found it wryly amusing: wow, even statements from Capital University were getting throttled.
The vice president’s assistant kept his head down, snorting quietly to himself. As the assistant, he knew full well what a powerhouse Professor He had become, and guessed she was just fishing for the real culprit. And yet, at a moment like this, the top social platform remained stubborn and unyielding, blundering right into the trap without changing its ways. Did they have a death wish?
For all the “Noble Families” in the social circle accused Shang Xi’s father of being an upstart, the company he’d built from scratch was now worth even more than Hua Country’s number one social media platform.
He was on a call with the C-suite from the second-largest platform when Shang Xi’s mother phoned.
He was so worked up that his hand shook, and his full-screen smartphone thudded to the floor, its screen splintering. But the phone still worked.
He swiped to answer, not caring that the shattered glass sliced his thumb, staining the phone and the cuffs of his white dress shirt with blood. “Honey…” he began, feeling utterly wronged.
But Shang Xi’s mother was perfectly calm. “No crying. Let’s deal with the urgent matters first. Our personal stuff can wait till I’m back.”
Choking up, he replied, “Alright.”
The two talked for half an hour, with Shang Xi’s father reluctant to hang up the call, letting his assistant bandage his wound as they talked.
After he finally ended the call—reluctantly—he relayed everything to his son with pride.
When Shang Xi saw the dozens of voice messages from his dad and several from his mom, it was already nine in the morning.
He went to have breakfast in Uncle He’s room together with Xiao Xi, shook his phone, converted the voice notes to text, and read them carefully to Xiao Xi. In the end, he announced smugly, “Our family’s been stubborn for generations. Dad says that’s how you win the girl you love.”
He Chunxi grabbed a fried stick of dough. “Uncle and Auntie might be getting back together.”
Shang Xi grinned, revealing his dimples. “I think so too.”
Meanwhile, Du Jiaying, who had tagged along and felt like just a prop, found herself with little appetite. This… were their hearts really so big?
Gao Wen leisurely finished a small bowl of tofu pudding before lightly tapping Du Jiaying’s arm. He’d wanted to remind her—the tension was so high online that if there weren’t a strong trump card waiting, how could everyone be so calm and cheerful?
Instead, he just said quietly, “Wait and see.”
After breakfast, before ten o’clock, the director and assistant director knocked on the door, calling everyone to assemble for shooting.
The assistant director seemed faintly smug, making a point of saying, “In this industry, it isn’t just about money but also connections. Even a university professor can’t play this game, not unless they have powerful backing…” He then performed a showy sigh. “Best to leave some room for everyone. You never know when paths will cross again.”
The director said nothing but didn’t contradict his assistant, which revealed plenty about his attitude.
He Chunxi had no interest in such posturing. Her plan was simple: help her father “fish,” enjoy her last moments in the industry, and then announce during the final phase of filming that she would leave the entertainment world to focus on her college entrance exams.
As for Du Jiaying, not knowing what trump card her real father might hold left her anxious. She spent all her energy speculating whether he had enough cards to end this, or if not, what she should do next. For the moment, she forgot about the hurt of being so easily discarded by the Du parents and her brother Du Jiahui.
This travel reality show always prided itself on a peaceful, drama-free atmosphere, but because of Jin Li, the style suddenly shifted, with multiple on-air showdowns and infighting. But arguments can’t just happen at will. No matter how many schemes Du Jiaying dreamed up, right now she stood firmly on He Chunxi’s side, and combined with the three “turncoat” classmates who had closely followed last night’s “battle”…
Whenever Jin Li, guided by the center-of-attention system, tried to dig a pit or provoke the group, Du Jiaying and the “turncoats” would neutralize her opening moves, one by one.
Those three second-generation heirs, whose families all took “Brain Gold” together with their fathers, would rather take a knife to the face than let He Chunxi get hurt even a little.
That afternoon, filming wrapped, and everyone took the bus back to the hotel.
On the ride, the director reviewed the day’s footage. Although the atmosphere was tense, he was pleased… even with supervision in post-production, he felt secure enough, now that he had several powerful backers, to play along if needed.
That night, fired up by a surge of adrenaline, he worked overtime to edit a misleading highlight reel, then, without notifying anyone, published it directly from the program’s official account.
After fermenting online for an entire night and day, He Jingzhou and He Chunxi became the internet’s number one villains, hated by all. The new highlight reel “proved” once again that He Chunxi was a shameless opportunist who leaned on her Capital University professor father.
Right then, a random alt account appeared and accused Professor He of reckless command, claiming there had been a major accident in her lab—ruining one graduate student’s entire future.
Every related topic was followed by a conspicuous purple “trending” badge.
At this point, some directors and executives of the leading social media platform finally realized something was badly wrong. After all, no matter how clever Jin Li was, she couldn’t possibly “gift” every board member and executive a skill card.
Meanwhile, Shang Xi’s father had spent most of a day in fruitless negotiations with executives from both top social platforms. Hidden hands kept creating obstacles behind the scenes, and neither set of higher-ups wanted to offend anyone, so they kept dragging things out, thinking it didn’t matter…
Feeling exhausted but still determined to push ahead, Shang Xi’s father was about to propose lunch to the executives when his son called, and his wife also sent a message. Both told him to turn on the TV to Hua Country Channel One.
This was the main evening national news broadcast!
Shang Xi’s father looked at his assistant.
The assistant quickly opened the streaming app, held the tablet for his boss, and hurried to his side.
Together, they heard the familiar anchor smiling as she announced this year’s Hua Country Science & Technology Prize winners: He Jingzhou topped the list.
The tablet’s speaker wasn’t loud but carried well enough for all the executives to clearly hear.
When the anchor finished reading, Shang Xi’s father felt the weight at his arm suddenly increase. He looked aside to find the executive who had just been stalling now clutching his sleeve, drenched in sweat, hoarse as he begged, “President Shang, I was wrong! I’ll kneel if you want! I’ll…”
Shang Xi’s father didn’t pull his arm away. After a moment of silence, he said, “This changes everything. I… What I say isn’t enough anymore.”
On hearing this, the executive was left with no hope. Legs giving out, he collapsed on the rear seat.