Chapter 122: The "Morning Star" Battles the Media

Inspiration Superstar Crossing the Tempest 3394 words 2026-03-24 21:11:28

Ten minutes later, Lin Qihua’s verified social media platform released a statement responding to Tang Zhijie’s accusations: "I am shocked that Teacher Tang would resort to such tactics. In this day and age, I am stunned that someone would still dare to call a deer a horse and invert black and white. Everyone knows what transpired. I cannot agree with Teacher Tang’s accusations. I ask my media friends, as well as the fans, netizens, and friends who care about me, to rest assured—I am not a shameless, morally bankrupt person. Please wait patiently for the truth to emerge. Finally, since there are video screenshots, why not simply release the video? I believe the complete footage would explain everything."

The speed of Lin Qihua’s reaction made onlookers realize he was not caught off guard. It seemed neither side had any intention of compromising; they were preparing for a direct confrontation.

Furthermore, what was the "truth"? Everyone knew the idiom about calling a deer a horse; was he implying that Tang Zhijie had something to hide?

The audience was confused, but one point Lin Qihua made was clear: if Tang’s accusations were so definitive, why not release the full video? Wouldn't that reveal the truth? Modern video technology was clear enough to tell the story at a glance.

Soon, Qingsong Entertainment and Xiangmei Hotel, both tagged repeatedly by netizens, emerged.

Qingsong Entertainment’s official social media platform stated: "At the 10th-anniversary celebration banquet hosted by Qingsong Entertainment, a conflict did indeed occur between Teacher Tang Zhijie and Lin Qihua. We intervened in a timely manner to resolve the dispute. We hope Lin Qihua can recognize his mistakes, correct them promptly, and apologize to Teacher Tang. To admit one's faults is the greatest virtue."

"This is an open declaration of sides," He Li cursed. Yu Fengqin also looked annoyed. Qingsong Entertainment knew exactly who Tang Zhijie was and had surely seen the full video, yet they still sided with him—the implication was obvious.

"This is definitely Yu Wenhao pulling strings behind the scenes," Lian Yuling whispered. "Even if he didn't intervene directly, he tacitly allowed Chen Yan to use his name to intimidate various entertainment media and Qingsong Entertainment. Don't hold any expectations for Xiangmei Hotel’s response. If they were willing to release the full video, Tang Zhijie and the others wouldn't have made their move."

Xiangmei Hotel’s response confirmed Lian Yuling's theory. In their update, they claimed: "The incident took place in a blind spot for the security cameras and no relevant records were preserved. We deeply regret that such an event occurred."

"Just as expected," everyone in the room accepted the outcome.

"Using power to suppress others—it's too much," a staff member spat out in anger.

"In the end, I’m the one who implicated you," Lian Yuling said, looking at Lin Qihua with guilt. "If it weren't for me, Yu Wenhao and Chen Yan wouldn't have acted. There might be others involved as well; a mere Tang Zhijie couldn't stir up such a storm on his own. So, I am the one who dragged you into this."

Lin Qihua understood. It seemed the influential figure Lian Yuling had offended was the superstar Yu Wenhao. Lin Qihua knew of him—the pillar of Huayi, a famous actor, and one of the "Four Kings and Four Queens" of the film and television industry—a man whose word carried immense weight. Chen Yan, it seemed, was his agent.

Since Xiangmei Hotel clarified that no relevant footage existed, the three photos must have been screenshots from a personal device. Netizens, long accustomed to gossip, began to harbor doubts. Could these few screenshots really prove that Lin Qihua was as morally bankrupt as Tang Zhijie claimed?

Indeed, the spectators, well-versed in the entertainment industry’s habit of blowing minor issues out of proportion, felt the evidence was insufficient.

But soon, the media entered the fray, stirring up another storm.

In a report titled "Fame at a Young Age, Distorted Mentality: Another Genius Fallen in the Entertainment Industry?", Lin Qihua was described as a youth who achieved fame too early, whose character could not keep up with his success, leading to this incident. It argued that stricter management of artists was needed to prevent early downfalls.

Another report, "Drunk and Disorderly: What Ruined a Talented Youth?", claimed that Lin Qihua, a product of the Huayi training camp, should have understood that alcohol and lust lead to ruin. It alleged that his year of singing in bars had left him with an alcohol addiction, and that he had lost himself in the nightlife. "If he hadn't been drunk, Lin Qihua surely wouldn't have dared to harass a female artist in public or spout nonsense at a veteran," it concluded.

"Talent Is One Thing, But Character Is Everything," another piece claimed. It acknowledged his performance on "The Singer" as proof of his talent, but insisted he lacked the ability to conduct himself as a human being. It criticized his arrogance, his lack of self-control regarding alcohol, and his "inappropriate" behavior toward a female artist. It framed Tang Zhijie’s actions as a senior protecting a junior, and condemned Lin Qihua for his lack of gratitude. "Is such an artist really fit to stay in the entertainment industry?" it asked.

Numerous media outlets published stories attacking Lin Qihua, all echoing Tang Zhijie’s accusations and piling on, creating a massive wave directed at Lin Qihua and his agency, Galaxy Entertainment.

Netizens, previously on the fence, were now fully convinced by the media and joined in the vitriol against Galaxy Entertainment and Lin Qihua.

"A disgrace to the entertainment industry."
"Get out of show business."
"Galaxy Entertainment’s biggest mistake was signing such a shameless artist."
"The facts are clear, yet he’s still stubborn. Tang has no grudge against you—why would a senior veteran call out a fifth-tier artist if he wasn't truly disgusted? Admit your mistakes!"

A wave of paid trolls also began to push a narrative: "Lin Qihua is only relying on his performance in 'The Singer.' We strongly demand that this scumbag be removed from the contestant list, or we will boycott the show."

Public sentiment reached a fever pitch. Lin Qihua’s social media was flooded with insults.

"I’m truly the enemy of the people now," Lin Qihua said, shaking his head. He actually managed a smile. "They use the media to incite ignorant netizens because they have no decisive evidence. It’s a clever tactic."

"You can still smile?" He Li was anxious. The media front had collapsed, and public opinion was completely lopsided. She had no way to counter it.

"Why shouldn't I?" Lin Qihua smiled. "The fact that they resorted to these methods proves they have no smoking gun. The netizens are just momentarily agitated; this will pass soon. Such storms don't last."

"But this is enough to ruin your future on 'The Singer'."

"That can't be helped. I don't think Director Wei will cancel my qualification. Whatever the outcome, I’ll do my best and leave the rest to fate. Even if I’m eliminated, the sky won't fall. Don't lose your composure; if we panic, they win."

Amidst the public outcry, another major force in the industry—the artists themselves—remained collectively silent.

Only Lu Zhixian posted a message he immediately deleted: "Lin Qihua doesn't drink." Even though it was up for only a second, sharp-eyed fans noticed and left comments: "Is our idol supporting Lin Qihua?"

Afterward, Lu Zhixian sent Lin Qihua a screenshot of his deleted post, along with a message: "Brother, this is all I can do for you. You understand the rest."

Lin Qihua felt a warmth in his heart. Lu Zhixian was expressing his support in a subtle way. In fact, not only Lu Zhixian, but others like Wang Yalin and Zhang Yuxun also sent messages of comfort. As industry insiders, they knew what kind of person Tang Zhijie was, but they were powerless to speak out. Lu Zhixian’s message made it clear: Yu Wenhao’s influence was too great, and their companies would not allow them to risk the wrath of a superstar for a matter that didn't concern them.

"Damn it," a staff member slammed the table in frustration.

"The follower count is dropping," the staffer monitoring the social media platform shouted. "It's dropping fast."

Everyone turned pale. Followers were the foundation of an artist. Losing followers was far more terrifying than media criticism or netizen abuse, as it meant Lin Qihua’s own fans were starting to believe the narrative. Because he couldn't produce evidence of his innocence, their anger had led them to unfollow him or turn into haters.

Under his social media posts, the comments were devastating: "Unsubscribing. I was blind to like such an immoral artist. Get out of the industry." "I’m turning against you. You’re no longer my idol." "Everything was a lie. You claimed you wanted to be the brightest star of Galaxy Entertainment, but you do things like this. Disgusting."

Former fans were now his fiercest detractors. This hurt deeply. Seeing the pain and pale complexion on Lin Qihua’s face, the staff felt a pang of heartache. Lin Qihua had always valued his relationship with his fans, and this time, he was truly wounded.