Chapter Ninety-Five: The Horn of Counterattack!

All the fans felt an immense ache for Bai Ling, and an equally immense fury toward the people lurking in the shadows.

Their despicable conduct, their sordid and mean-spirited deeds—was the harm they caused merely the destruction of Bai Ling and nothing more?

This must not be allowed to go on.

The momentum must not be allowed to swell any further.

Just as Teacher Zhang said at the end of his video, Bai Ling should never have had to bear any of this.

We are Bai Ling’s fans. We love her work, and there is nothing wrong with that. We should not be the targets of those people’s mockery and abuse.

Bai Ling deserves our protection and our help.

Share it as much as possible so more people will know, so more people will understand what happened.

Change begins with us.

Forward, forward, forward.

Without any exaggerated emotional rhetoric, all the fans began to mobilize.

They were only resisting; they were not trying to deliver speeches.

It was enough that each of them gave what effort they could.

As for Zhen Xiang’s article, it too was being forwarded again and again, circulating endlessly alongside Teacher Zhang’s video.

Some even began directly tagging the major official media accounts, hoping they would speak a word of justice.

In just one night, the video’s views, its completion rate, and its reposts all began climbing sharply.

In truth, by this point the hired trolls from the shadowy forces had already been weakened considerably.

After all, Bai Ling’s fans were gradually starting to give up.

The studios that specialized in inflating data and flooding comment sections naturally slowed their pace, and some had already begun preparing to pop champagne and celebrate securing such a huge order.

So-called fan influence was a joke before the frenzied manipulation of numbers and the relentless steering of public opinion.

Even against the true titans of the entertainment world, they could pin an indelible stain.

Much less Bai Ling, a newcomer who had only recently exploded into fame and had not even established a foothold in the industry.

Dealing with her was almost too easy.

Of course, the great figures outside the entertainment circle, those with real-world influence, were not to be touched.

Picking on someone like Bai Ling was more than enough.

But what they never imagined was that during the brief moment when they let their guard down, the topic of Bai Ling surged once more to the top of the trending lists.

Bai Ling’s acts of charity—she is the actress truly worthy of praise!

She brought hope to students, yet she herself fell into darkness!

Do those villains who reported The Crown Princess even know what they have done?

It is hard to imagine that one tide of public opinion could turn so many fools into accomplices!

A fine drama has been reported; what is left for the entertainment industry?

A strong appeal for The Crown Princess to return online!

In that interview, what exactly did Bai Ling do wrong? Was she truly in the wrong?

A flood of related tags shot up the trending charts, and with visible speed pushed down every other piece of news.

In terms of heat, they were several times—nay, ten times—hotter than those other stories.

Teacher Zhang’s video had also climbed to nearly seven or eight million views, and the number was still rising.

Its repost count had reached an astonishing five hundred thousand.

Even major announcements from official media rarely exceeded a million.

Without artificial data manipulation, five hundred thousand reposts was already outrageously remarkable.

The reach of that one video can scarcely be imagined.

By the time the troll studios received the news, it was already too late.

They immediately tried to have Teacher Zhang’s video taken down through malicious reporting.

And they succeeded.

But soon after, countless reuploads appeared, blooming everywhere like spring flowers.

Reporting a television drama or web series was simple: if enough people filed complaints, the major video platforms could not ignore it.

Even if they did not remove it, they had to temporarily hide it.

As for netizen-made videos, though they were easy to report and easy to have sealed off, the problem was that once enough people were reuploading and sharing them, there was no way for even the data-farming troll studios to keep up.

Besides, they might delete the numbers online, but could they erase the memory from the minds of everyone who had already seen it?

As time passed, the situation would only grow more exaggerated, more astonishing.

And when the matter was finally conveyed to Wen Yan’s father, a trace of surprise appeared on his face as well.

Wen Boyi, the head of the Wen family.

In truth, the Wen family was not especially famous, because most of their business lay in investment.

Many companies held shares belonging to the Wens; in other words, the Wen family had stakes in industries across the board.

But there was one exception: the entertainment industry.

The Wen family had always looked down on that world.

Even Wen Boyi’s involvement now was only because of his precious daughter, Wen Yan.

Back then, Wen Boyi committed a mistake—one that, in his view, every man under heaven could make.

He cheated during his marriage, and before he and his current wife were even properly wed, while they were still only an engaged couple, he became entangled with Wen Yan’s mother.

At first, it was only glances crossing in the air, sparks flying.

But after Wen Boyi married, he increasingly found his present wife, chosen through family alliance, unbearably dull.

So he and Wen Yan’s mother ended up having Wen Yan.

Not being able to give his beloved daughter a proper status filled Wen Boyi with guilt and regret.

Thus, from the time Wen Yan was small, he had been silently watching over her and helping her.

He wanted her to have a relatively happy childhood.

Of course, that was only Wen Boyi’s own opinion.

Wen Yan, who lacked nothing in life and had progressed smoothly through school, enjoying life in comfort and cheer, always felt her existence had been far too bitter.

Later, Wen Yan wanted to enter the entertainment industry, to stand beneath the flash of cameras and become the focus of everyone’s attention.

Wen Boyi then began paving the way for her, arranging for her to be “accidentally” discovered by a talent scout and, by sheer “chance,” “luckily” selected for a highly talked-about girl group competition.

Alas, she still could not be made to shine.

In Wen Boyi’s eyes, his daughter was the very best; if she still had not become famous by now, something must be wrong.

And after When I Visit My Home for the New Year aired, Wen Boyi had hoped the program he arranged for Wen Yan would launch her into instant stardom.

Instead, he watched Bai Ling sweep through the field like a storm.

As a good father, how could he possibly tolerate that?

And so came what happened afterward.

He had thought he had already cleared every obstacle from his precious daughter’s path, but unexpected trouble kept piling upon trouble.

That Bai Ling was like a cockroach that could not be killed, actually rising from the ashes again under such circumstances.

At once, he called Ou Qianqin.

“How do you even do your job?”

“I gave you so much money, and you can’t even handle this little problem?”

Ou Qianqin was clearly already fully aware of the situation.

Wen Boyi did not understand the entertainment industry; everything had been handled personally by Ou Qianqin, including hiring trolls and stirring the public mood.

From the feedback on the other side, Ou Qianqin had also realized just how thorny this matter was.

Right now, she was under pressure from both sides, and the strain was almost unbearable.