Meng Xian still couldn’t swallow her pride.
Seeing the memes and remixes of herself spread across the internet, she grit her teeth and decided to go against the company’s cold-handling advice.
Ignoring the PR team’s warnings, she used her private account to contact a marketing team and online boosters.
Soon, the trending search terms were taken down, and official statements shifted blame onto the creators of the remixes, accusing them of “taking things out of context,” “malicious editing,” and “fabricating false information to attack a person,” attempting to rally fans to report the viral clips.
On the alphabet-platform’s remix section, a creator with the ID “Did Pipi Shrimp Update Today?” frowned at their dashboard.
She was a small-time remix creator, known for her creative ideas and editing skills, and had made a few small viral videos.
Recently, her remix “Meng Xian Facepalm! Love display backfires in front of the real island owner” had gone viral, with catchy BGM and addictive edits driving up views.
But today, when she logged in, she found all her Meng Xian videos, along with related clips, had been grayed out for “spreading false information” and could no longer be played.
“What the heck?” Pipi Shrimp’s heart sank. Checking the comment sections of other videos, she saw an influx of anonymous level-one and level-two accounts:
【Die you liar! Maliciously editing to slander a celebrity, wait for a lawyer’s letter!】
【Content is false. How much did Gu Mingyan pay you, UP?】
【Just for views, morals don’t matter. The internet is ruined by people like you.】
The comments were aggressive, clearly organized.
At first, she was stunned—but soon a surge of anger erupted.
Creating remixes was purely for fun; her edits and music choices were standard fan edits, using publicly available clips. There was no malicious intent—so where did this “rumor” and “false information” accusation come from?
“Alright, playing hardball, huh?” Pipi Shrimp thought, feeling rebellious.
She had been indifferent to Meng Xian before. The island incident was a little cringey, but she was just having fun.
Now, the opposing team’s smearing and scapegoating behavior made her blood boil.
That night, the account “Did Pipi Shrimp Update Today?” suddenly posted three new videos in a row.
The titles were progressively more explosive:
In the post, Pipi Shrimp directly tagged Meng Xian’s official account, going full throttle:
“@Meng Xian, please tell me—exactly which second, which frame in my last video contains ‘false information’? Everyone was just watching for fun. I didn’t even care about the video being taken down. But you had to hire online boosters to accuse me of taking money to slander you? Fine then—one report from you, I make three videos. Keep ‘em coming!”
The moment the post went up, it immediately lit up the gossip-hungry netizens.
【Haha, I almost forgot this existed. Thanks to the boosters, I got reminded to revisit this classic.】
【Meng Xian really can’t handle this. The more she acts, the more nervous she looks.】
【Saying the UP was hired by Gu Mingyan’s haters made me laugh. She’s done plenty of Gu Mingyan remixes before—never saw anyone come to cover their mouths.】
【Not hiring boosters would’ve been fine. But now that she did, it’s just backfired. The drama was almost over too.】
Meng Xian stared at the three new videos uploaded by “Did Pipi Shrimp Update Today?” and the comment section, filled with overwhelming mockery—“can’t handle it,” “nervous”—and almost threw her phone in a fit of rage.
Her plan had been to suppress the negative publicity and salvage her image. But the money spent backfired spectacularly.
The boosters didn’t silence the netizens—they only provoked a stronger backlash, pushing the controversy back into the spotlight. Even the idea that she “hired boosters to cover people’s mouths” became the next punchline.
Meng Xian was furious and anxious but utterly powerless.
The mess eventually reached Ye Jinyan.
When he learned that Meng Xian’s attempt had backfired, causing a flood of remix videos to appear, he felt both exasperated and a little helpless.
His finances were already tight due to that astronomical fine, and now he had to spend another chunk to clean up Meng Xian’s mess.
The new official statements and boosters emphasized Meng Xian’s deep recognition of her mistakes, her active cooperation with the authorities, and her fine payments. While it still couldn’t stop the remixes or the jokes from spreading, it at least salvaged some of her reputation.
Still, two consecutive huge unexpected expenses pushed Ye Jinyan’s already strained cash flow to the breaking point.
He stared at the shrinking numbers in his account and loosened his tie irritably.
In this moment of financial strain, he couldn’t help but think of his official girlfriend, Gu Mingyan.
Back in the day, if he’d shown even a hint of difficulty, Gu Mingyan would have immediately stepped in to solve it—he wouldn’t have had to worry about small money matters at all.
Thinking this, Ye Jinyan instinctively opened his call log.
He froze.
Several days had passed since he last contacted Gu Mingyan about the bail money. Despite multiple missed calls from him, Gu Mingyan hadn’t responded once.
This was highly unusual.
By her usual clingy standards, even missing a single message would prompt her to send a long explanation, carefully avoiding his anger.
Yet now, after so many days, not a single message, not a single call.
A wave of irritation surged in Ye Jinyan’s chest—but quickly, it was replaced by a creeping unease.
Had Gu Mingyan been truly angered by the island incident?
Was it because he gave Meng Xian the access card? Or because he made an excuse not to reveal his relationship with Gu Mingyan, yet arranged fireworks for someone else?
The more Ye Jinyan thought, the more plausible it seemed.
Gu Mingyan, though love-struck, was not without temper. If she held a grudge—or worse, withdrew her financial support—he’d be in serious trouble.
Ye Jinyan immediately got a mouthful of canker sores from anxiety.
Unable to sit still, he opened the chat with Gu Mingyan, tentatively sending:
【Mingyan, are you busy?】
….
After three days of paused filming, the production team finally resumed recording the variety show.
This time, the filming location switched from a luxurious island to the soon-to-be-abandoned old campus of Yuncheng University. The guests’ accommodations also took a nosedive—from private ocean-view rooms to aged bunk-bed dorms.
Fans who had received the news early flooded the live stream, and the comment barrage quickly became lively.
【They’re here! Finally live!】
【This dorm is worse than my university one. The paint is peeling.】
【Haha, Miss Gu can’t handle this kind of environment.】
Sure enough, on screen, Gu Mingyan dragged her suitcase into the dorm. Her carefully made-up eyes immediately squinted.
She scanned the scuffed walls, chipped bunk beds, and aged wooden desks with blatant disdain.
“People can actually live here?” she complained to Yun Qingqing without restraint.
Gu Mingyan expected a sympathetic response—but Yun Qingqing looked completely unfazed.
“Why do you seem so calm?” Gu Mingyan asked.
Yun Qingqing casually replied, “It’s fine. It’s a bit old, but clean enough. If you’ve ever lived in a six-person dorm with dusty corners and a moldy smell during the rainy season, this place feels like luxury.”
Gu Mingyan was shocked: “Six-person dorm? That’s like a pigsty—cages one after another!”
Yun Qingqing: “……” Thanks for the subtle insult.
【Hahaha, cages one after another! Miss Gu’s metaphors are always on point.】
【Yun Qingqing’s expression cracks me up. Inner thought: Are you being polite?】
【Can’t blame her for not laughing. Hanging out with someone as arrogant and rude as Gu Mingyan must be exhausting.】
Yun Qingqing, however, wasn’t offended at all.
She knew Miss Gu spoke bluntly by nature, not out of malice.
Moreover, in the next moment, Gu Mingyan naturally added: “Oh, right. Your old apartment wasn’t much better—tiny and shabby. I’ll get you a new one later.”
Yun Qingqing’s smile shot up, and she politely replied, “Ah, that’s so kind of you…”
“Kind of me? No big deal,” Gu Mingyan waved off. “It’s just a house. I have plenty of them, just sitting empty anyway.”
Yun Qingqing immediately accepted the gift graciously: “Great, thanks.”
The comment section exploded with envy:
【Why does giving a house sound like giving away cabbage?】
【I’m not jealous of Yun Qingqing at all… I just… sweat is dripping from my eyes.】
【Where do you find a friend like Gu Mingyan who gives you a house without hesitation…】
Just as Yun Qingqing was reveling in this windfall, Ji Sihan half-pulled, half-pushed Nan Xu over.
“Good evening…” Ji Sihan greeted nervously.
“Good evening,” Yun Qingqing responded lightly.
Ji Sihan quickly glanced at Gu Mingyan, who was impatiently side-eyeing them, and secretly wiped his sweat.
He took a deep breath: “Teacher Gu, I’d like to discuss something with you.”
“Go ahead,” Gu Mingyan replied curtly.
Ji Sihan swallowed, feeling his throat dry.
He was sent as a liaison from the official Lingyu Out of Control game team.
A former professional e-sports player, he still had contacts in the gaming world. The game team was interested in Gu Mingyan’s private island with its unique design and wanted to use it as the basis for a new in-game map.
The idea was good—but when the team tried to contact Gu Mingyan via Weibo DMs, they got no response.
Having no other choice, they asked Ji Sihan to deliver the message and see if a site visit could be arranged.
The moment Ji Sihan heard the request, he panicked.
Everyone knew that Gu Mingyan’s island had just been disrupted by Meng Xian’s fireworks display, and Gu Mingyan was already annoyed.
At this timing, asking for a game team visit was like poking a hornet’s nest.
Yet he couldn’t refuse, so he dragged Nan Xu along for moral support.
Sure enough, Gu Mingyan immediately interrupted: “I refuse.”
Her tone was decisive, with no room for negotiation.
Ji Sihan scratched his head: “Alright, I’ll report back to the game team then.”
Yun Qingqing, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow.
Lingyu Out of Control had been a massive hit since release, topping mobile game charts for years.
Meng Xian’s later rise as a sought-after e-sports goddess owed a lot to landing the game’s endorsement.
The book subtly hinted that Meng Xian’s connection to the endorsement was partly because she once helped the game team reference Ye Jinyan’s private island when designing a new, player-favorite map.
The team appreciated her efforts and gave her priority when selecting endorsers.
Yun Qingqing froze.
A thought suddenly popped into her mind.
She immediately called to the system in her mind: “System! The book says Lingyu Out of Control referenced Ye Jinyan’s island—could it actually be the one owned by Mingyan?”
The system responded: 【Based on cross-referenced information, the likelihood is very high. At that time, male lead Ye Jinyan’s career was still starting; his assets did not include a private island of this level and scale.】
Sure enough!
Yun Qingqing couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation.
Although in the original story, Meng Xian’s matchmaking role was just briefly mentioned, it was clear that back then, Gu Mingyan had been kept in the dark by Ye Jinyan’s various excuses, ultimately letting Meng Xian use resources that belonged to Gu Mingyan to do a favor under the guise of goodwill.
The system remarked: 【Well, that’s the protagonist halo effect. Whatever happens, it benefits the protagonist.】
“I don’t care about halos or not!” Yun Qingqing frowned. “I don’t meddle in other matters, but they absolutely can’t use Gu Mingyan’s stuff as stepping stones.”
Just as Ji Sihan was about to drag Nan Xu away, Yun Qingqing suddenly let out an “Ah!” as if she had just realized something. “Ji Sihan, the game you just mentioned… is it Lingyu Out of Control?”
Ji Sihan froze mid-step. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
Yun Qingqing naturally turned to Gu Mingyan. “Mingyan, weren’t we just playing this game together the other day? You even drew three SSRs in a row!”
Mentioning this, a smile appeared in Gu Mingyan’s eyes. “Maybe I spent more money than you,” she said casually.
Yun Qingqing’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I was just thinking—if Lingyu Out of Control could really turn your island into a game map, preserving its beauty in the digital world… how romantic would that be?”
Her words carried such infectious enthusiasm that one could almost see the dreamy island in the game.
Gu Mingyan, who had been so adamant before, found herself slightly swayed.
She frowned slightly, seemingly considering the possibility.
“…Hmm, that does sound kind of interesting?” she hesitated, her tone no longer as resolute. “Fine, if Qingqing says so, let them take a look.”
Ji Sihan was overjoyed—he hadn’t expected the breakthrough to come from Yun Qingqing!
He immediately shot her a grateful look. “That’s amazing! Thank you, Teacher Gu! And thank you, Qingqing!”
In high spirits, Ji Sihan couldn’t help but chat a bit more with Yun Qingqing, who also seemed interested in the game. “You play Lingyu Out of Control too? Which server? Drawing three SSRs in a row… that’s pure luck!”
Yun Qingqing smiled. “Mostly, Mingyan’s luck.”
The two immediately fell into conversation about the game, from character skills to patch mechanics. Ji Sihan, already fond of Yun Qingqing from the last time she encouraged him to return to esports, now felt even more at ease talking with her.
Meanwhile, Gu Mingyan, watching the two chatting happily, initially felt nothing—but as Ji Sihan grew more animated and Yun Qingqing’s face lit up with smiles, an inexplicable annoyance stirred in her. That smile of his was irritatingly eye-catching.
She fidgeted with her phone to distract herself, unconsciously swiping the screen.
Her fingers moved so fast that she accidentally dismissed a new message notification.
Gu Mingyan froze. Huh? Did she just see Ye Jinyan’s name in the message bar?
Before she could check, Ji Sihan made some funny in-game joke, and Yun Qingqing burst out laughing.
Gu Mingyan blinked and shook her head. It must have been her eyes playing tricks.
She put the phone down and crossed her arms, shooting Ji Sihan a cold look:
“Ji Sihan, do you even know what time it is? Staying up this late, bothering a girl endlessly—do you even understand basic decency? Qingqing has to get up early tomorrow.”
Ji Sihan: “…Ah?”
He looked out at the dim evening sky, momentarily speechless. Six o’clock in the evening—was that really late?
【LOL, why is Gu Mingyan suddenly losing it? Even bringing up decency.】
【Looks like she’s jealous of Yun Qingqing and Ji Sihan getting along so well.】
【Silent jealousy? Interesting. Never realized Gu Mingyan could be this cute.】
【Haha, friendship possessiveness is real—Qingqing, go comfort Miss Gu!】
【Yanqing and cloud-light girl friendship—I ship it!】