Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 16

A few days later, Chu Muyun left to shoot an advertisement, the one he’d secured at the cocktail party, riding in his new RV for the first time.

His assistant, Tian Xingzi, drove to his residential complex to pick him up and took him to the studio. The shoot wrapped up in just a few hours.

The next day, Shu Meijia’s official Weibo account released a series of promotional photos. Long-time fans who had been lurking in the shadows suddenly emerged to comment:

[Who is this?]

[Never heard of him, but he’s absolutely stunning.]

[More pictures, please!]

The campaign for their new ancient pearl cream featured Chu Muyun in two distinct outfits, conveying the theme of “a thousand years of craftsmanship.”

In one set, he appeared as an ancient nobleman, his simple yet subtly patterned robes accentuating his slender fingers as he focused intently on grinding pearls into fine powder with a stone pestle.

In the other, he was a modern young man with flawless, pale skin, cradling a jar of the pearl cream that shimmered with an iridescent glow.

Chu Muyun retweeted the post and forwarded it to Lu Hanzhang on WeChat.

The sudden “resurrection” of someone who had been lying low for so long excited his haters, who had been obsessively targeting him for two years. They swiftly flooded the comments on his retweet and expanded their attacks to Shu Meijia’s official Weibo account, vying for control of the top comments.

[They’re even hiring disgraced celebrities? Unfollowed.]

[Heh, my mom used to use this outdated brand when I was a kid. A perfect match for a washed-up has-been.]

[Ugh, so ugly.]

Shu Meijia’s official Weibo account had hundreds of thousands of followers, but very few were active. After all, they were just selling cosmetics, not running a fan club. Aside from zombie followers, most of the accounts following them were just there for retweet giveaways. As the haters skillfully dominated the comments, a few real people chimed in:

[This is ugly?!]

[Are you some celestial beauty to look down on this?]

[What ‘disgrace’?]

[Spill the tea.]

Luo Yi’s fans began explaining how Chu Muyun had maliciously attacked his peers.

They continued spamming the comments under the post, pressuring the official account with the threat of relentless action until the photo was removed.

Chu Muyun nestled on his sofa, took a sip of his milk tea, and scrolled through Weibo.

He had anticipated this reaction.

When his manager negotiated with Shu Meijia, they had disclosed this possibility, and the company had acknowledged it. Even if the ad was ultimately withdrawn, it wouldn’t constitute a breach of contract on his part, right?

In the CEO’s office, Lu Hanzhang clicked on the link Chu Muyun had sent him.

He enlarged each image, slowly scrolling through them and saving them to his album before moving on to the comments.

His expression darkened.

He looked up and instructed his assistant, who was standing nearby, “Call Jin Ming immediately.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Chu Muyun finished his milk tea and was about to browse a CP forum for a sweet story to relax when he suddenly noticed a trending topic:

#ShuMeijiaOfficialWeiboAccountUnderCyberattack#

Shu Meijia, a beacon of domestic brands, had recently gained popularity online for its safe ingredients and reasonable pricing.

Their official Weibo account was being cyberattacked? By whom? By rival brands who claimed, “If it’s expensive, first reflect on whether you’re working hard enough”?

Curious onlookers clicked on the hashtag and were greeted by the chaotic scene beneath the official Weibo post. Many jumped in to defend the brand:

[What’s wrong with a classic brand my mom used? The fact that it’s still around proves its quality and reputation!]

[Where’s the ugliness? Are you blind?]

The bolder ones chimed in with scathing remarks: [Upon closer inspection, it’s just Ant Fans. Treat yourselves to something better—this is way better-looking than your precious Luo Yi!]

“Ant Fans” was a derogatory term for Luo Yi’s fans, likening them to ants swarming everywhere.

[The Ant Fans are at it again with their cyberbullying.]

[Truly a Top-Tier Internet Bully]

After reading the fans’ explanations, one netizen expressed confusion: [As an impartial observer who doesn’t stan either side, I don’t even recognize this minor celebrity. Wait, so the ‘disgraced artist’ label is because he criticized Luo Yi’s portrayal of the Martial King on a burner account?]

Another chimed in: [What a massive ego! Isn’t it common knowledge that Luo Yi’s Martial King performance was trash?]

[I checked the minor celebrity’s Weibo. He’s been getting cyberbullied for two years straight! That’s awful. I feel sorry for him.]

[His fandom has always been like this, they can’t handle even a hint of criticism. And their idol’s acting is downright terrible.]

Luo Yi’s fans stubbornly defended him: [Criticism is fine. Even we fans admit his performance wasn’t perfect. But viewers can comment, not fellow actors. Isn’t he just jealous of Luo Yi’s fame?]

Impartial netizens immediately retorted: [Luo Yi’s bad acting is objective fact. He was completely miscast as the Martial King. Why shouldn’t his peers criticize him? A refrigerator repairman is more qualified to judge cooling performance!]

[He didn’t even use his main account! He posted from a burner. And now the doxxers think they’re in the right? Watch out, they’ll end up in jail someday and learn their lesson.]

Chu Muyun abandoned his sweet romance novels and eagerly scrolled through Weibo.

This was the first time he’d seen so many people defending him.

While Chu Muyun slept, the online drama continued to brew. Bored netizens dug up his past works, and bandwagoning content creators began editing videos comparing his acting skills to Luo Yi’s.

[When one refrigerator critiques another’s cooling performance, let’s examine their respective professional capabilities.]

The conclusion was a complete knockout. Chu Muyun utterly outshone Luo Yi.

Within two hours of the video’s release, Luo Yi’s fans reported it, leading to its removal. But in its wake, a flood of cryptic short videos emerged, subtly alluding to the incident with winks and nods.

Fans couldn’t keep up with the reports, while casual viewers flooded every video with memes: [The tragedy sparked by a refrigerator’s cooling performance.]

Confused onlookers chimed in: [Refrigerator? What refrigerator? Which brand is having issues?]

Amid this chaotic frenzy, the Misaligned production team seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire.

The official Misaligned Weibo account released a countdown poster for the start of filming. With everyone already speculating whether the recently disgraced male lead would be replaced at the last minute, the poster confirmed the change, the third male lead had indeed been recast.

Chu Muyun and Luo Yi’s names were now listed side-by-side, separated by only one other name.

The internet erupted.

Even before filming began, the production team had already generated a massive wave of buzz.