Chapter 36: This Movie Is Quite Good

"That idiot Zhao Wenji is spreading wild rumors online, claiming you forced him into a relationship, that you cheated on him, and even asserting that 'Confession Balloon' is his song!"

Peng Jiaxin had also seen the rumors circulating online. She didn't bother looking at the insults directed at her, but she read through the comments praising Zhao Wenji’s songwriting talent quite carefully.

*They actually have decent taste~*

*Ahem, no, that’s not right...*

Whatever arrogance Zhao Wenji was flaunting now, she would make sure he suffered tenfold for it later.

"What is the PR department doing?"

"This..."

He Nan didn't have the courage to say that the PR department was afraid Zhao Wenji might be telling the truth. If Peng Jiaxin had a change of heart later and started missing her old flame, and Zhao Wenji returned to become the lover of the Xinghai Company president, they would all be finished.

"They are waiting for your instructions."

"Useless. If they don't resolve this properly, tell them not to bother coming to work tomorrow."

"Understood! President Peng, what about your relationship with President Chen?"

"It's fine to make it public. Also, I want everyone who slandered Chen Fan to pay the price they deserve."

"Understood!"

Hanging up the phone, Peng Jiaxin returned to the private cinema and snuggled back into Chen Fan’s arms. Such a trivial matter wasn't nearly as important as watching a movie with him.

On He Nan’s end, with Peng Jiaxin’s approval, it was incredibly simple to debunk Zhao Wenji’s porous lies. The PR department immediately went into action.

Xinghai Company, tagged by countless people on Weibo, finally responded. The first post clarified the relationship between Peng Jiaxin and Zhao Wenji—it was strictly professional, with no romantic involvement whatsoever.

They were flamed for it.

The second post contained screenshots of Peng Jiaxin’s private social media feed, each thoughtfully dated. "Our President Peng is already married; unrelated individuals, please keep your distance."

Netizens were still furious. What was this? Trying to claim their beloved Zhao Wenji was the "other man"? As if! It must be photoshopped; that woman was a total heartbreaker!

The third post was a video addressing the "wounds" on Zhao Wenji, specifically how he got that bruise on his stomach. In the video, Zhao Wenji perfectly illustrated what it meant to be a pathetic, bottom-tier man, while Chen Fan served as the perfect foil. His instinctive act of protecting his wife and his domineering kick instantly captured the hearts of many netizens.

Many netizens were just here for the drama; their stance could shift at any moment based on physical appearance.

"Ahem, may I ask if President Peng’s husband has a girlfriend? If so, would he mind having one more?"

"Oh my god, tall, long legs, and overflowing boyfriend energy! If I could find a boyfriend like that, I’d be happy even if I never had to worry about a meal for the rest of my life!"

"Wait, sister above, how come you’re asking for food *and* the guy?"

"But honestly, with a husband as handsome as that, would President Peng really need to date Zhao Wenji?"

"Maybe he’s not good in bed, doge.jpg."

"Just based on that kick, even if he weren't, I’d think it was my own fault!"

"No wonder you use couple avatars..."

The tide of public opinion shifted instantly. The main reason wasn't even Zhao Wenji's absurd claims, but Chen Fan’s face, which completely eclipsed Zhao Wenji’s. Many rational voices emerged, cutting together a video highlighting the obvious holes in Zhao Wenji’s narrative. Of course, the fact that such a video could be produced so quickly was thanks to Xinghai’s influence.

The high-profile influencers and celebrities who had helped promote Zhao Wenji’s livestream scrambled to delete their posts, quickly distancing themselves by claiming they were unaware of the truth, denouncing Zhao Wenji’s nonsense, and finally issuing fresh posts apologizing to Xinghai Company and its president.

Zhao Wenji’s fans were speechless. However, some die-hard fans continued to lash out, clinging to one point: Zhao Wenji’s talent.

"Xinghai Company is using its power to bully others. If Wenji doesn't want to stay, so be it. With the talent to write 'Confession Balloon,' which company wouldn't take him?"

"Exactly! A small entertainment company daring to go against our idol? You’ll regret it once you lose him!"

"In this day and age, talent like our idol’s is rare. It’s an honor for that old hag that he even looked at her! And then she brings her husband to disgust him—truly pathetic."

"Right, being able to serve our idol is that old hag's honor!"

One after another, these outrageous comments appeared, making netizens marvel at the sheer power of this "top-tier" delusion.

Just then, observant netizens noticed that Zhao Wenji’s livestream had been forcibly shut down. Not only that, but his entire account was gone! The trending search topics vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.

The CEO of Douyin: "Yes, it’s already shut down. Sigh... Alright. This kind of person will never be allowed to make a fool of himself on this platform again... Yes... Rest assured, this guy will never appear online again."

After hanging up, the Douyin executive was drenched in sweat, his legs so weak he slumped to the floor. Who could have imagined that Peng Jiaxin’s grandfather was the legendary Elder Bai of the Beijing Bai family? What kind of status did Elder Bai have? He was an "original player" in the game of power! If they had known she had this background, they wouldn't have needed a personal call. The moment the name Peng Jiaxin surfaced, the stream should have been banned immediately. The CEO of Weibo felt the same lingering terror.

They cursed Zhao Wenji to hell in their hearts.

Of course, the fans didn't know these nuances. Seeing the stream banned and the searches removed, they assumed Xinghai Company was afraid of their idol’s talent. Little did they know that the police were already on their way to present their dear "idol" with a pair of silver bracelets.

Seeing that Xinghai Company remained silent, the die-hard fans continued to scream that Xinghai didn't have a single person capable of writing a song and that Zhao Wenji was the "Little Jay Chou."

The netizens found it hilarious. Ever since Xinghai posted those few updates, they had treated the whole thing as entertainment. They tagged the Xinghai PR department: *Why are you quiet? Scared?*

He Nan’s lips curled into a slight smile as he nodded to the PR director beside him.

"You can post it now."

And so, Xinghai Company made its final response to the incident: a single screenshot. It was a screenshot of the copyright registration for "Confession Balloon." Key information was blurred out, revealing only the initials of one of the creators: the two capital letters, "ZJ."

Immediately following this, the PR department announced that Xinghai Company’s first collaboration with the mysterious composer ZJ would be released in a few days, after the college entrance exams. There would be two songs in total, one of which was "Confession Balloon."

Everyone was asked to look forward to it.

The trending searches were once again occupied by ZJ and Xinghai Company, but this time, the netizens’ attitudes had shifted. Everyone was praising and anticipating ZJ’s new work. The die-hard fans were left speechless; in the face of hard evidence, Zhao Wenji would even be charged with copyright theft—he’d be lucky to get away with just a decade of government-provided meals in prison.

With that, the Zhao Wenji clown show came to an end.

Chen Fan and his wife had just finished their movie, and both stretched contentedly.

"That movie was actually quite good."

"Mm."

Fragrant, soft, and indeed very good.