14

A single major red carpet event at the end of the year is enough to keep every forum's KPIs fed for three days straight.

For this Weibo Night, the front pages of all the major forums were filled with the usual celebrity photo-sniping, but the real focus was on Wen Fu.

Click on any random thread and the front page was flooded with posts about him, like:

[@momo: In a corner no one cares about... there’s a D-list nobody who changed into three different haute couture looks tonight. One for the departure photos, one for the red carpet, one for the venue. And people talk about who’s got the 'resource' backing...

[Comments][1st Floor]@SakuragiCaodao: Can you even call that resource-backed? I thought the one with the backing was that guy he’s doing the fake-romance act with. [128 likes]

[2nd Floor]@momo: Who’s he doing the fake-romance act with?

[3rd Floor]@SakuragiCaodao replies to [1st Floor]@momo: Qi Yichuan, the lead of those four big-budget costume dramas this year. [331 likes][81 dislikes]

[4th Floor]@momo [OP] replies to [1st Floor]@SakuragiCaodao: Fashion resources... aren't those a kind of resource, too? [82 likes]

[……]

Or like this:

[@AlmondLatteNoIce: Who’s Wen Fu’s stylist? How did he manage to borrow three ES looks?]

[Comments][1st Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: No idea, just feels like ES has gotten cheap now... Do haute couture brands not care about public opinion anymore? Wasn't this guy getting roasted in a hundred-story thread just two days ago? Haute couture is that easy to borrow now? [19 likes]

[2nd Floor]@AlmondLatteNoIce [OP] replies to [1st Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: Huh? I think it looks pretty good, not cheap at all. ES is definitely hard to borrow, so I’m just curious how his stylist got three of them. [99 likes]

[3rd Floor]@WhoseDoremi replies to [1st Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: The roasting was about him having few clothes, not about them being tacky. In that thread with hundreds of replies, was there even one person saying he looked bad? Can’t just hate on everything because he has fewer fans, right? [212 likes]

[4th Floor]@MyGirlIsNumberOne replies to [3rd Floor]@WhoseDoremi: Gege... why are you even explaining anything to them... just click their profile and you’ll see they’re a Qi Yichuan fan. Wen Fu’s hate threads haven’t even been deleted yet.

[5th Floor]@WhoseDoremi replies to [4th Floor]@MyGirlIsNumberOne: No wonder the ID is so vicious. Fans are like their idol. If you didn't know better, you’d think Wen Fu was holding a knife to their idol’s throat under the director's building, forcing him to rush over and feed my baby. [82 likes]

[6th Floor]@MyGirlIsNumberOne replies to [5th Floor]@WhoseDoremi: Haha... who’s the sycophant clinging to my baby, they know it themselves...

[……]

And even more about Wen Fu eating:

[@momo: Is he trying to build some kind of new persona?

[Image.jpg]

Is this an act? Who just sits there stuffing their face with McDonald's in front of the cameras?

[Comments][1st Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: He’s really doing too much... It’s 3202, don't tell me he thinks the entertainment industry still buys the 'innocent and clueless' act... and his table manners are terrible... [88 likes]

[2nd Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: Is there no rice at home... looks like he’s a refugee. [109 likes]

[3rd Floor]@JusticePasserby: Word is they didn't prepare food in the venue this year. Everyone was just sitting there, and the event started at noon, so a lot of people hadn't eaten. Later, a small actor’s manager even came over and secretly asked him for a burger. [112 likes]

[4th Floor]@WhoseDoremi (Now transformed into the only tough nut among Fu-fans): 1st floor isn't even pretending anymore, huh? You’re fast at blocking people, though. Out of ten Wen Fu hate threads, eight have you in them, and the other two are your alts. You don't listen to clarifications, you just make up rumors, and you can't help but go crazy whenever you see Wen Fu. Your own idol isn't even worth mentioning. You won't live to see tomorrow. [123 likes]

[5th Floor]@MyBiasConfirmedDead replies to [3rd Floor]@JusticePasserby: Asking Wen Fu for McDonald's... which small actor, hahaha

[6th Floor]@JusticePasserby replies to [5th Floor]@MyBiasConfirmedDead: An actor from Fengdu Media, said he was only fourteen and starving, so the manager went to ask Wen Fu for a burger.

[7th Floor]@Nanami replies to [6th Floor]@JusticePasserby: So did Wen Fu give it to him?

[8th Floor]@JusticePasserby replies to [7th Floor]@Nanami: My friend in the venue said he did. It sounded like Wen Fu just gave the guy all his food. [186 likes]

[9th Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie replies to [8th Floor]@JusticePasserby: At the speed he was inhaling those burgers, how much could have even been left? /emoji[/:laughing-crying]

[10th Floor]@JusticePasserby replies to [9th Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: A lot was left. The small actor didn't finish it all and shared a bunch with people around him. I’d guess that pile of McDonald's cost four or five hundred yuan.

[……]

There was also talk about the 'This Qi, That Fu' pairing:

[@HowToKeepBangsFromSplitting: Eating McDonald's to break up a ship... did he invent a new genre...

[Comments][1st Floor]@BindMyBiasFamilyDie: Why would he want to break up the ship? /emoji[/:laughing-crying]. It’s obviously a one-sided marketing stunt. Trending searches, bundling, playing the victim, 'purifying' the fanbase, debunking rumors—the whole package. Who’s lacking popularity here, can’t you tell? [145 likes]

[2nd Floor]@momo: Randomly grabbing a 'This Qi, That Fu' shipper to interview them about their feelings. [79 likes]

[3rd Floor]@WhoseDoremi (Now transformed into the only tough nut among Fu-fans): Why would Qi Yichuan send food to my baby? /emoji[/:laughing-crying]. It’s obviously a one-sided marketing stunt. Trending searches, bundling, playing the victim, 'purifying' the fanbase, debunking rumors—the whole package. Who’s the one sending food from miles away like a sycophant, can’t you tell? [24 likes]

[4th Floor]@momo: 1st floor and 3rd floor, please make up. [223 likes]

[5th Floor]@MyBiasConfirmedDead: 1st floor and 3rd floor, please make up.

[6th Floor]@StopFightingAlready: 1st floor and 3rd floor, please make up.

[7th Floor]@EatAnything: 1st floor and 3rd floor, please make up.

[8th Floor]@EveryoneSitDownListenToMe: 'This Qi, That Fu' is fake, but 1st floor and 3rd floor are real.

[9th Floor]@ImReallyThankful: 1st floor and 3rd floor, I’m actually starting to ship you two.

[……]

Wen Fu didn't respond to any of this, though it was highly likely because he was completely unaware of it. Since the moment Wen Fu debuted, Stella had told him repeatedly not to pay attention to the discourse on Weibo and forums; it was the quickest way to break an artist's mental state. And Wen Fu always did exactly what he was told. He had no interest in surfing the web anyway, so since his manager said so, he was happy to be lazy.

Both Stella and Qi Yichuan’s management teams tacitly took advantage of the chaos, using the heat from the incident to coordinate with outsourced PR teams. They released various articles, both in the open and behind the scenes, many of which slandered the other artist. Both sides used 'fan-abuse' tactics to achieve a degree of 'purification' among the shippers—essentially, using articles to brainwash fans into feeling like their favorite was being suppressed or even framed by public opinion. This made the fans feel sympathy and heartache, slowly shifting their mindset from 'shipping' to favoring only one of them, eventually becoming solo fans.

The smoke cleared from the forums three days later.

Wen Fu had just returned to Jin City after recording 'Sound into the Ear' in Changsha, having also squeezed in a commercial performance in the same province during the two days of recording.

December in Jin City. After a brief night at home to rest, Wen Fu would have to fly to Guizhou for three consecutive days of performances.

Zhou Ji was telling him the schedule for the coming days as they walked out through the airport VIP channel.

Wen Fu put on his hat and mask and said, 'No more of these after this.'

Zhou Ji didn't react at first: 'What?'

He paused for a beat, only half-understanding: 'Commercial performances? You aren't taking any more?'

Wen Fu nodded, his voice muffled by the mask: 'None of them.'

Zhou Ji didn't understand why Wen Fu had made this decision so suddenly, but getting out of these messy commercial gigs a day earlier was always the right move. He remembered a few days ago, on another flight, when Wen Fu asked him if the upcoming gigs could be canceled. When Zhou Ji said it was possible but would require paying a penalty fee, Wen Fu had gone silent.

It seemed Wen Fu had already been thinking about quitting them back then.

Zhou Ji hesitated: 'Actually, the penalty fees for the next few days aren't that high...'

The three performances combined would probably cost a hundred or two hundred thousand yuan.

Wen Fu lowered his lashes and was silent for a few seconds before finally shaking his head: 'Forget it.'

He decided to go after all.

Zhou Ji didn't even need to probe to guess that Wen Fu was someone who never learned how to buy comfort with money. If there ever came a day when he’d rather pay a penalty fee than work, then he wouldn't be Wen Fu anymore.

The rest of the team’s hair and makeup staff were with them. As they walked out, they saw that the fans waiting at the exit were even more numerous than before.

Because it was so cold, many fans had clearly been waiting for a long time. Looking out, most were girls, holding either cameras or letters. To get them to go home sooner, while Zhou Ji went to the left side to collect letters, Wen Fu went to the right to take them one by one.

There were many hands reaching out, but everyone was very respectful, not trying to grab or touch him.

Wen Fu said a quiet 'thank you' with every letter he took, but because his voice was so soft and the fans were so enthusiastic, almost no one heard him.

Suddenly, an arm with a larger frame than the others poked out from the crowd, thrusting a letter directly under Wen Fu’s eyes.

Wen Fu froze for a second, then looked up, following the arm to its owner, and found a clean-looking boy.

For a moment, they made eye contact. The guy pushed the envelope a bit closer, clearly hoping he’d take it. Wen Fu looked at the letter, then at the boy, clearly hesitating. A moment later, he took the letter and quickly tucked it into the back of the stack in his hand.

The letters from both sides were collected at about the same time. Zhou Ji went to open the car door, and before getting in, Wen Fu suddenly remembered the forum post Qi Yichuan had shown him at KFC that day.

He paused, stepped back between the two lines of fans, pulled down his mask, curled the corners of his mouth toward the left, then did the same toward the right, and then quickly pulled his mask back up and got into the car.

'...'

'...'

...What the hell was that?

The fans on both sides were dead silent, plunged into a sudden hush.

No one understood what those two expressions from Wen Fu were supposed to mean.

It wasn't until the second before Zhou Ji closed the car door that a heart-wrenching scream erupted from outside: 'Management Studio, remember to do some anti-smear work!!!'

Zhou Ji: '...'

After the car pulled away and the fans were far behind, Zhou Ji asked the dazed Wen Fu beside him: 'What were you doing back there?'

Wen Fu turned his gaze toward him: 'Hm?'

'Just now...' Zhou Ji described, 'Right before you got in the car, you suddenly pursed your lips at them... what did that mean?'

Wen Fu: 'I was smiling.'

'...' Zhou Ji was silent for a while, 'Was it because of the forum posts?'

He asked: 'You wanted the fans to know you didn't have a sour face because you hated them?'

Wen Fu nodded.

Zhou Ji stared at Wen Fu’s face, which could be described as entirely devoid of a smile, and sighed softly: 'Do you think... they understood what you meant?'

Wen Fu didn't speak, just lowered his eyes.

'You...'

Zhou Ji opened his mouth, wanting to ask if he remembered the last time he’d smiled, but seeing Wen Fu’s expression, he closed it again.

How long ago was it? Ever since Zhou Ji joined the team as an assistant, he’d never seen it.

It was as if there was nothing in this world worth Wen Fu smiling about. There were happy things: winning an award was worth being happy about, writing a new song was worth being happy about, releasing an album was worth being happy about—but none of them reached the point where Wen Fu could actually smile.

His stillness wasn't dullness. That silence, bordering on a lack of emotion, made Wen Fu like a giant sponge, capable of absorbing all the output and venting directed at him, even mechanically digesting and responding to it within his own body. If criticized for being rude, he would reflect and apologize; if told he had a sour face, he would try to smile; if told he lacked 'star awareness,' he would learn to change clothes more often. But for him personally, it seemed no external force could impact Wen Fu’s emotions enough to make them overflow.

People are born with joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. If he can't produce a smile, it’s likely because he just isn't happy enough.

Zhou Ji found it hard to imagine what Wen Fu looked like when he was happy.

He had heard about moments of pain, though.

A long time ago, Stella and the team were out for drinks, and when the alcohol hit, she mentioned the time Wen Fu first went abroad: '...He thought about coming back to the country every single day. The moment he saw a chance, he’d run to the airport. He had no money but still wanted to catch a flight, like a little kid! When we found him and dragged him back, he’d wail, tears and snot running down his face!'

Stella said this in a joking tone, as if she really saw Wen Fu as a child she’d watched grow up, bringing up his past like an elder intentionally embarrassing a kid: 'Later, I went to see him myself for three months! Only then did he settle down. He really didn't let anyone worry any less.'

Everyone laughed and talked after drinking and forgot about it, but Zhou Ji occasionally remembered, and couldn't help but imagine it—what would Wen Fu look like, crying his eyes out with tears and snot everywhere?

The van pulled up to the gate of Yunhe Song. Zhou Ji took the luggage and items out of the car, and in the blink of an eye, Wen Fu had run across the crosswalk and ducked into the convenience store opposite to buy a carton of Jule Milk.

By the time he walked back across the street, the milk was already finished. Wen Fu was still biting the straw, the empty carton making a slurping sound.

Zhou Ji saw him home and reminded him before leaving: 'Get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is the eleven o’clock flight. I’ll come pick you up two hours early—what do you want for breakfast?'

Wen Fu thought for a moment: 'Milk and noodles.'

'Got it.'

After Zhou Ji left, Wen Fu started tidying up his suitcase.

He took out the dirty clothes and put them on one side of the sofa, and the clean ones on the other.

He closed the suitcase and finished tidying up.

Just as he was passing the dining table on his way to the shower, he caught sight of the sticky note Fei Bolin had left days ago. Wen Fu stopped there, hesitating for a long while, before turning back to the sofa to throw his dirty clothes into the washing machine, only then feeling at peace enough to go to the bathroom.

During the twenty minutes he spent waiting for his hair to dry after his shower, Wen Fu sat on the floor reading the fans' letters, with Demon Slayer playing on the TV as background noise.

Wen Fu had a habit of writing 'thank you' at the end of every letter he read.

When he reached the last one, his fingertips barely touched the envelope before he realized with a start that it was the one from the male fan tonight.

Wen Fu’s slender fingers hovered over the envelope, unable to bring himself to open it for a long time.

Finally, he gathered his courage, picked up the envelope, tore it open, and read the letter line by line.

Halfway through, his eyes widened—the content of the letter was indeed a confession of some unspeakable infatuation!

The letter spoke bluntly and explicitly about the person’s infinite impulses and fantasies, describing meeting him as if returning to the heart-fluttering age of seventeen. His voice was a concrete combination of the person’s innocence and desire. If there were a chance, the person wished they could go everywhere in the world with him and do everything that lovers do.

Men were certainly much more shameless in expressing their affection.

Wen Fu’s eyes darted back and forth. Holding the letter like a hot potato, he struggled between enduring it and not, then gave a sudden flick of his wrist, throwing the paper onto the floor, and helplessly retreated two steps back into the sofa.

The thin sheet of paper drifted like a leaf in the wind, landing less than half a meter away from him.

Wen Fu looked at it like it was a deadly enemy, hugging his knees and staring at the paper for a long time until his phone alarm went off, reminding him it was time to blow-dry his hair.

He silenced the alarm, stared back at the letter, and after building up his mental defenses, he crawled over, tentatively reached out for it, brought it back to the coffee table, took a deep breath, and still wrote 'thank you' on it.

Just as he was about to put the letter away in his study, Wen Fu pondered for a moment and added one more line at the end: I don't like you.