The next day, an obscure gossip account called Orange Entertainment posted a sensational headline on Weibo:
“Lu Lincheng’s ex-wife Liang Yan refuses to support her own mother. Is this the death of family bonds—or the collapse of morality? How could someone be so heartless?”
Stories about children neglecting their parents always made for juicy, melodramatic headlines. But this time, the lead character wasn’t just anyone—it was a celebrity with name recognition. More importantly, she was Lu Lincheng’s ex-wife. Public attention exploded instantly.
The accompanying video featured a woman named Chen Xueyun, claiming to be Liang Yan’s mother, tearfully accusing her on camera.
“She’s my own daughter. I went through so much pain to give birth to her and raise her. I know when I divorced her father she never forgave me, but what was I supposed to do? He drank himself senseless every day! Yes, I failed her, but I tried to make up for it as best I could. I thought blood was thicker than water, that after all these years she’d still remember the debt of being raised. But I never expected her to be this cruel—to drive her own mother and younger brother to their deaths!”
The article painted Liang Yan as ungrateful, claiming that after she rose to fame, she ignored her family for years. Now, with her mother in dire straits, she refused to give even the barest living expenses—despite having plenty of money—and even threatened to sever ties.
Viewers were shocked. Liang Yan, the glamorous star, was secretly a daughter who wouldn’t even support her own mother? In a society that prized filial piety above all, public outrage flared.
Comments flooded in:
[Unbelievable. Celebrities make millions, yet she won’t even care for her own mother? Is she even human?]
[No wonder Lu Lincheng divorced her. This woman is vicious.]
[I grew up in a single-parent household too. Divorce is hard, but I let go of the past long ago. Why can’t she?]
[Am I the only one wondering what exactly happened to her family?]
[Even if she’s broke, there’s no way she can’t afford to support her own mother.]
[Don’t kid yourself. Celebrities are never short on money.]
[Sigh… this poor auntie.]
[Thankfully Lu Lincheng cut ties with her.]
…
Before long, “Liang Yan the Unfilial Daughter” shot to the top of trending searches.
Expression blank, Liang Yan watched the video of Chen Xueyun’s tear-streaked accusations. She scrolled through the comment section filled with insults and abuse.
Her private messages had already blown up. To the public, being “unfilial” was even worse than her marriage to Lu Lincheng had ever been. Curses and vicious threats poured in like a flood.
Heh… so this is her so-called mother.
Jiang Mu was furious, cursing under his breath as he paced the floor with his hands on his hips. Finally, he yanked out his phone.
“I’m calling the media right now to set the record straight!”
“What kind of trash outlet is this Orange Entertainment? Twisting the facts, publishing only one side of the story—aren’t they afraid of being sued?!”
“Wait.” Liang Yan’s voice stopped him.
“Wait? For what?” Jiang Mu snapped. “Don’t tell me you still feel sorry for her. Liang Yan, not everyone who gives birth is worthy of being called a parent.”
“It’s not that.” Liang Yan met his eyes. “The story has already blown up. Everyone’s already made up their minds. If I rush out with a statement now, what will people think? That I’m just…” She exhaled. “Trying to whitewash myself.”
A celebrity publicly fighting her own mother over money—no matter the truth, it looked ugly.
Jiang Mu froze. “Then… then what do we do?”
Liang Yan glanced at her phone. On Weibo, her fan group Wolf Fang was unusually quiet. A few timid fans couldn’t hold back and left comments:
“Yanyan, what’s really going on?”
“Yanyan, is that woman Chen Xueyun really your mom?”
“She must be slandering you, right? You have your reasons, don’t you?”
“Don’t be sad. We believe in you, Yanyan.”
Liang Yan fell silent, exited the app, and scrolled to her call history. She stopped at the unfamiliar number that had rung yesterday. With a bitter smile, she pressed dial.
The call connected instantly, as if the other party had been waiting.
“Liang Yan,” Chen Xueyun sighed.
“…Mm.”
“I really had no choice but to ask you for money. Why force me to make such a scene? Just give me eight million. I’ll call the reporters right now and explain everything.
“I know you’re rich. Eight million is nothing to you. I gave birth to you, didn’t I? Even if I didn’t raise you, doesn’t that alone make me worth eight million?”
“Your brother’s in jail. They said if we don’t pay up, they’ll press charges.”
Liang Yan’s voice was cold. “I don’t have the money. I won’t give you the money. All I ask is that you stop this.”
She paused, her voice catching for the first time. “…Mom.”
“Please. Whatever contacts you have among the tabloids, call them and tell the truth. Don’t push me any further, okay?”
Chen Xueyun had expected her daughter to beg and pay up. Instead, hearing this, she erupted.
“Hah! Some daughter you are. Do you believe I can’t ruin you? What kind of child refuses to give money to her own parents? Look around—everyone believes me, not you! And let me tell you, the next time you come crawling, it won’t be eight million I want. It’ll be eighty million!”
“I’ll make sure you never lift your head again for the rest of your life!”
Liang Yan hung up without a word.
She turned to Jiang Mu. “Let’s go to the police station again.”
…
That evening at seven, after a full day of silence and abuse, Liang Yan suddenly posted on Weibo:
“When I was very little, you were gentle that day. You promised you’d come see me again. I smiled and said goodbye. I kept waiting and waiting… but you never came.”
Along with the post, she released an audio recording.
“I gave birth to you! If you don’t pay back this eight million, who will?!”
“And listen well—you’re not just covering your brother’s debt. You’re supporting me too. From now on, you’ll give me 200,000 every single month for living expenses!”
“Yes, I didn’t raise you, but you’re alive and well, aren’t you? If I’d known you’d grow up to be such an ungrateful wretch, I should’ve just sold you back then. Who wants to raise a useless daughter who’s nothing but a drain?”
“You idiot! You divorced Lu Lincheng and didn’t even take a single cent in alimony. You let him use you for free?!”
“My God! A daughter who won’t even save her own mother and brother—are you really going to watch your brother go to jail?”
“You think people will believe you over me? Just wait. The next time you come begging, it won’t be eight million I want—it’ll be eighty million! I’ll crush you so you’ll never raise your head again!”
Shortly after, the official account of Liang Yan National Fan Club released a lengthy post on Weibo.
Attached were documents proving that from ages seven to seventeen, Liang Yan had lived in a full-boarding sports academy. Under “Guardian,” the record clearly read: “No legal guardian.”
Then came bank slips: one showed a four-million transfer Liang Yan had made to Chen Xueyun two years ago; another showed payments Liang Yan had made during her college years to cover years of overdue living expenses at the academy.
The angry mob that had been tearing Liang Yan apart instantly fell silent.
Liang Yan stared at the recording she had posted.
Chen Xueyun had been too ignorant to realize the police mediation room was under full surveillance and audio recording.
On one side, Chen Xueyun weeping into the cameras, her performance teetering between truth and pretense.
On the other, Liang Yan’s evidence: hard facts, cold receipts, irrefutable proof.
Public opinion flipped overnight.
[Holy shit. She abandoned her kid, and now that the kid’s grown up, she’s here to extort her? Shameless!]
[What kind of parent does this?]
[I always thought Liang Yan came from a rich family—turns out…]
[“No legal guardian”? That’s basically an orphan!]
[Damn, I’m actually tearing up.]
[I know that sports academy. Lots of parents dump their kids there and disappear. It’s half an orphanage.]
[She already gave them four million and they’re still not satisfied? Eight million, eighty million—that’s extortion, plain and simple!]
[Am I the only one who noticed she didn’t ask Lu Lincheng for a cent in the divorce? I thought she’d at least bleed him dry.]
[She even worked part-time in college to pay back the academy fees. That’s rough.]
[Liang Yan, don’t you dare give them another penny!]
[Feeling so bad for Liang Yan.]
[Stay strong, Liang Yan!]
[Am I the only one curious what sport she trained in at the academy? With her height and looks, was it rhythmic gymnastics or synchronized swimming?]
…
Liang Yan’s WeChat was practically exploding—friends, acquaintances, colleagues, all sending her messages of comfort.
In “Wolf Fang,” her fan group, the chat was filled with sobs and crying emojis. Fans were heartbroken, never imagining their idol had endured so much suffering as a child.
Liang Yan tried to lighten the mood in the group: “It’s okay, really. The food at the sports school was actually pretty good.”
Her optimism, rather than self-pity, only made fans love her more.
“Yanyan, I love you!”
“I can’t believe I stan someone this amazing.”
“I wish I could go back in time and hug little you.”
Then someone asked in the group chat:
“Yanyan, what sport did you train in back then?”
“With legs that long, it’s gotta be track and field.”
“No way, with her beauty and flexibility, definitely rhythmic gymnastics.”
“I bet it’s synchronized swimming.”
…
Liang Yan looked at their wild guesses, hesitated, then scrolled to the far corner of her photo album. She found the picture, paused for a moment, and sent it.
In the photo, a little girl of eight or nine, wearing a faded T-shirt and shorts, her short hair plastered to her scalp, cheeks flushed red from the sun, strained as she lifted a chipped, paint-worn barbell.
Her form was textbook perfect—an Olympic clean and jerk.
Moments later, a fan posted the photo on Weibo with the caption:
“No wonder Liang Yan’s so good at carrying bricks hahahahahaha!”
***