After unfollowing Lu Lincheng, Liang Yan collapsed onto the bed, sprawled out in all directions with her phone still in hand.
It had already been more than half an hour since her short drama with Xu Jiafan aired. By now, the audience’s verdict was more or less settled. Liang Yan had braced herself for it—good or bad, she had to face the outcome sooner or later. She was just about to return to the streaming site to check the barrage comments when a WeChat notification from Jiang Mu suddenly popped up.
Jiang Mu: [Yan, you’re about to blow up.]
Attached was a screenshot of the trending list—“Xu Jiafan Liang Yan” sitting pretty at number two, marked with the bright red word “NEW”.
Liang Yan didn’t believe it. Curling her lips, she typed back: [You sly old man, which photo-editing app did you use this time? You don’t need to comfort me like this. It’s not like I haven’t flopped before.]
After all, On the Screen was a brand-new show. Xu Jiafan was an unknown rookie with zero traffic, and she herself wasn’t exactly popular with viewers. Half an hour after airing, suddenly trending at number two? Impossible.
Jiang Mu: [!!!]
[Who edited anything?! Go see for yourself!]
Still skeptical, Liang Yan opened Weibo half-heartedly.
“Xu Jiafan Liang Yan,” number two on the trending list.
“Holy crap.” The words slipped out as she blinked hard, convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no—the trend was real. With trembling hands, she clicked in. The top post was from On the Screen’s official account: the ten-minute schoolyard short featuring her as the shy top student and Xu Jiafan as the cool, rebellious campus leader.
The script director who paired them clearly had a sharp eye. Audiences, exhausted by one cookie-cutter Mary Sue idol drama after another, were instantly refreshed by this sweet, down-to-earth campus short. The official post had already hit twenty thousand likes and over five thousand comments.
And because it came from the show’s account, most commenters were casual viewers instead of hardcore fandoms. Without the usual fan-army filtering, the comments section was buzzing with all sorts of reactions:
[Cuteness overload. Smiling like an auntie the whole time.]
[What kind of god-tier visuals does Xu Jiafan have? Stunning!]
[Both of them acted really well—and not a hint of awkwardness.]
[Liang Yan’s skin is flawless, she’s basically bare-faced here.]
[The best acting is when you forget it’s acting. The youth have potential.]
[Xu Jiafan is surprisingly good. As for Liang Yan… pass. Can’t warm up to her.]
[Liang Yan sucks liangyan sucks liangyan sucks liangyan sucks liangyan sucks.]
[That’s going too far, stop the personal attacks.]
[If you think this is bad, go watch those anti-Japanese dramas where people tear enemies apart with their bare hands. That’s more your taste.]
Liang Yan deliberately skimmed past the negative ones. Tears welled up as she read the good ones. For the first time, she felt what it meant to let her work speak for itself. After being mocked and ridiculed for so long, she finally saw positive comments about herself online.
Without hesitation, she reposted the show’s Weibo with the caption: “Thank you for all the support. Liang Yan will definitely keep working hard!”
After hitting repost, she exhaled deeply. She’d waited all night, and finally, the payoff had come. Calming her emotions, she began her nightly routine.
While she was in the shower, her repost got a new comment—from Xu Jiafan himself: “Jiayou.” (Keep it up.)
Fans instantly boosted his reply to the top, and soon after, someone noticed an exciting detail: Xu Jiafan now appeared on Liang Yan’s latest follows list.
Some sharp-eyed fans quickly noticed something strange. If Liang Yan had just followed Xu Jiafan, then why hadn’t her “Following” count gone up?
That could only mean she had unfollowed someone else. Liang Yan followed over two hundred accounts, so normally fans couldn’t be bothered to dig through the list. But then Lu Lincheng’s fans, who made it their daily routine to hound her about divorce, suddenly realized—Lu Lincheng was no longer a mutual follow with Liang Yan!
People checked carefully, and sure enough, his name was gone from her list.
Of course, Liang Yan had never been on Lu Lincheng’s following list to begin with.
Not long after, the super-topic #DidLuLinchengGetDivorcedToday?# lit up. The biggest Lu Lincheng fan site posted: “#DidLuLinchengGetDivorcedToday?# On March 6th, Liang Yan unfollowed Lu Lincheng.”
…
Meanwhile, Liang Yan had just finished a bubble bath. She stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying her hair, and sat on the bed with her phone. The moment she lit up the screen, the top news headline nearly made her drop it in shock:
“Fruit TV’s new variety show On Screen premieres today; Liang Yan unfollows Lu Lincheng, fueling divorce rumors.”
W-What?!
Panicked, she fumbled open Weibo. The trending tag “Liang Yan Xu Jiafan” had already been squeezed out of the Top 10. Sitting firmly at number one was—“Liang Yan unfollows Lu Lincheng.”
Only then did Liang Yan realize she had underestimated that line on Baidu Baike: “Lu Lincheng is half a traffic star in the entertainment industry.”
He might not usually trend, and gossip columns rarely had dirt on him, but that was only because he kept such a low profile. Any news remotely connected to him—even something as trivial as a sneeze—could instantly shoot to the top of the headlines.
And this marriage of his had always been a sore spot for the entire nation. Now that his wife had suddenly unfollowed him on Weibo, the hidden implications sent the internet boiling over like a pot of water at full heat.
Nowhere was busier than the #DidLuLinchengGetDivorcedToday?# super-topic square.
[Liang Yan unfollowed him! Does this mean she’s finally letting go and won’t cling to brother anymore?!]
[They must have divorced already!]
[Ahhhhh tell me this isn’t a dream, I could cry!]
[The leech is finally peeling off Lincheng, TT.]
[It’s been two years. If Liang Yan’s willing to let go, I’m already satisfied. From here on, may they both live well apart.]
[Yes, yes, live well separately, TT. I don’t even dislike her anymore—thank you for sparing brother.]
Perhaps giddy from the thrill of Liang Yan unfollowing Lu Lincheng, some fans were so euphoric they even started playing matchmaker for her, celebrating his “freedom.”
[As long as she doesn’t cling to Lincheng, Liang Yan’s actually not that bad. Tonight’s short drama was good—honestly, she looked way better matched with Xu Jiafan.]
[Right?! She and Xu Jiafan standing together looked perfect. Honestly, after watching their short drama, I almost want to ship them.]
[But I actually think she fits even better with Yan Zhun. I’ve replayed that “brick-moving girl × domineering CEO” edit so many times.]
[She’s a better match with Xu Jiafan.]
[No way, Yan Zhun’s the one!]
[Xu Jiafan!]
[Yan Zhun!]
…
The moment news spread that Liang Yan had unfollowed Lu Lincheng, a certain group of CP fans who used to secretly ship her with Yan Zhun under the tag “Heartfelt Collision” suddenly smelled freedom in the air.
If Liang Yan was single, didn’t that mean they could openly support her and Yan Zhun now?
The Heartfelt Collision fan group immediately caught wind of it, swarming into the #DidLuLinchengGetDivorcedToday?# super-topic square, piling on in the heated “Xu Jiafan vs. Yan Zhun” debate, and throwing all their weight behind Team Yan Zhun.
At the same time, the brand-new wave of Liang Yan × Xu Jiafan shippers, who had just formed after the broadcast of On the Screen, went into emergency defense mode. They quickly elected a fan leader at lightning speed, named themselves “Liang Xu Yan Fan,” and opened their own super-topic to counter the well-organized Collision of Hearts.
That night, the two fandoms went to war. Their main weapons? Flooding their own super-topics with sugary video clips, fan-made edits, and fluffy CP fanfiction.
The battlefield was a bloodbath—a clash that would go down in fan-circle history.
Meanwhile, Lu Lincheng was gradually shedding his “traffic star” image, throwing himself fully into filming. As a result, he was less and less aware of what went on in fan circles.
After an overnight shoot, he returned to the hotel completely exhausted, unaware he’d once again landed on the trending list—until his assistant mentioned that the fans were in chaos.
“What happened?” Lu Lincheng asked, eyes still closed.
His assistant, newly hired by Zhuo Yang, was so nervous in front of him that he stammered: “It’s… the CP fans. Liang Yan. They’re fighting.”
CP fans?
Lu Lincheng frowned.
His CP fans with Liang Yan?
The assistant hurried to clarify: “N-no, not you and Miss Liang Yan. It’s her CP fans with Yan Zhun… and Xu Jiafan. They’re fighting each other.”
“Uh… and your fans are… well, cheering on both Heartfelt Collision and Liang Xu Yan Fan.”
***