Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 85

Slander

Online public opinion continued to ferment. Xie Qing jumped up and down in his live streams every day, making aggressive, long-distance calls demanding that Shen Zhiyu “atone for his sins.”

His fans were exhausted from trying to control the comments, yet they continued to support him tirelessly.

Languang Media was not idle either, spending days collecting evidence related to the controversy.

In the audio clip Xie Qing released, there was a sudden burst of static noise in Xie Xuan’s speech just before Shen Zhiyu said, “As long as you’ve thought it through.” The content of that segment was indistinguishable.

This was a critical breakthrough. If they could obtain the original master recording and restore the complete conversation, all problems would be solved.

However, Xie Xuan’s parents were still missing. Languang Media had been searching for days but still hadn’t determined their exact location.

Jiang Zhou hadn’t proactively discussed the matter with Shen Zhiyu these past few days, seemingly intending to avoid it.

Shen Zhiyu grew a little impatient and finally asked, “Why haven’t you asked me, the person involved?”

Jiang Zhou’s tone was serious: “I don’t want you to be sad.”

“?”

“Xie Xuan’s suicide must have been very upsetting for you. Now his cousin is using the deceased for hype and blowing the matter up so much… Xie Xuan can’t rest in peace, and I know you feel bad about it. So, I didn’t want to bring it up in front of you.”

“Besides, I am capable of resolving it.”

Jiang Zhou had considered everything so thoroughly, even prioritizing his feelings.

Shen Zhiyu felt a warmth spread through his heart. He couldn’t help but bury his head in Jiang Zhou’s neck and rub against him gently, “Ah Zhou is so good to me!”

Shen Zhiyu hadn’t cut his hair in a long time, and his strands were quite long, softly brushing against Jiang Zhou’s neck, tickling him slightly.

Jiang Zhou happened to have a cold these two days, and the rubbing made him sneeze repeatedly.

Shen Zhiyu scooped him up and settled him on his lap.

The air conditioning was on in the room, and both were wearing only thin inner garments. Jiang Zhou could clearly feel the heat radiating from the other man’s body, and his own body temperature seemed to rise in response.

Shen Zhiyu pressed his forehead against Jiang Zhou’s to check his temperature: “Why are you still so hot?”

Jiang Zhou was a little helpless: “You are too hot.”

Shen Zhiyu was practically a mobile furnace—hot in summer, hot in autumn, and hot in winter.

Jiang Zhou remembered seeing him active in South Korea, where he would go out in the dead of winter wearing only a knitted sweater and a wool coat. He had felt deeply concerned then, even leaving comments on a fan account urging him to “wear more and stay warm.”

Now he finally understood: it wasn’t that Shen Zhiyu didn’t pay attention to keeping warm; he simply didn’t need to. All that past concern was purely unnecessary.

When Shen Zhiyu first moved in with him, the two couldn’t sleep together comfortably at all.

It was the height of summer, and Shen Zhiyu insisted on setting the air conditioner to 16 degrees Celsius. Jiang Zhou was freezing and even dug out his thick winter quilt.

It was only after sleeping together more often that they slowly figured out the perfect sleeping position.

Shen Zhiyu would usually block the air conditioning vent, completely encircle Jiang Zhou in his arms, and wrap his limbs around him.

Jiang Zhou initially thought being held like that would be uncomfortable, but unexpectedly, he got used to it, and his sleep quality improved dramatically every night.

When Yuan Chong saw him after a long time, he was surprised and immediately commented that Jiang Zhou was “well-nourished and full of vitality.”

Shen Zhiyu glanced at the air conditioning temperature and, without explanation, blamed it on the setting: “The AC is too high.” He reached for the remote control as he spoke.

Jiang Zhou: “I think it’s just right.”

Shen Zhiyu pulled his hand back and hugged the person in his arms even tighter, “Then let me warm you up.”

Before long, Jiang Zhou was sweating profusely and finally volunteered to lower the air conditioning temperature.

After adjusting the temperature, Shen Zhiyu started talking to Jiang Zhou about Xie Xuan.

“Xie Xuan and I met when we were trainees at YNK. We were the only two Chinese people in the company at the time, so we naturally became close, but we weren’t extremely familiar.”

“Then one time, I saw some fellow trainees cornering Xie Xuan in the bathroom, so I helped him out. After that, he started coming to me often. We gradually became familiar.”

His voice was soft, as if he was recalling and narrating slowly.

“Xie Xuan was timid, used to being submissive, and even more cautious being in a foreign country. The other trainees liked to bully him.”

“I helped him a few times, but I could only provide temporary relief. Later, we debuted in groups one after the other, our schedules became increasingly packed, and we saw each other less and less.”

“Then, another time, he came to find me…” Shen Zhiyu paused, “That was the time in the audio clip.”

“He told me about his experiences after debuting, and I realized how much he had endured. He said he wasn’t willing to accept it, that he wanted revenge, and wanted them to pay the price. I said, ‘As long as you’ve thought it through,’ and I supported his resistance.”

“But I didn’t expect that the revenge Xie Xuan spoke of…” Shen Zhiyu paused, “was a scorched-earth strategy.”

Jiang Zhou listened quietly, gently holding Shen Zhiyu’s hand wrapped around his waist.

Shen Zhiyu turned his hand and gripped Jiang Zhou tightly, not continuing the story.

Jiang Zhou knew that Shen Zhiyu regretted it.

If Shen Zhiyu had known that Xie Xuan would choose such a tragic ending, he would never have said, “I support you.”

The two embraced silently, neither speaking again.

—

The person involved never responded publicly, and Languang Media was slow to issue any statement.

Perhaps the mastermind behind the scenes grew impatient, as a torrent of negative rumors related to Shen Zhiyu flooded the trending topics.

First, some staff members posted veiled accusations online, saying a certain three-character returning top star secretly indulged in smoking and drinking, had a chaotic private life, and was a major diva, but he hid it well and blamed everything on his assistant.

Then, marketing accounts used backhanded compliments, claiming this top star had astonishing power behind him, that the previous Xu Binbin incident had hidden details that were suppressed, and that this current matter was also about to be settled by his backing forces.

Finally, even so-called internet celebrities jumped out one after another, claiming to have been Shen Zhiyu’s “companions,” saying he “played dirty in private,” requesting several girls at once, and refusing anyone over the age of twenty.

Such so-called “exposés” became increasingly outlandish.

The highest trending one came from Yu Liang, who had recently been embroiled in public controversy. He publicly claimed to have had a “close relationship” with Shen Zhiyu, which was why he replaced another male actor in Dream Making in Taoyuan. To increase credibility, he even posted screenshots of his manager’s chat logs with him.

“Thanks to Shen Zhiyu, Meng Qiancheng in Dream Making in Taoyuan is now you.”

Shen Zhiyu’s social media accounts were completely overrun, and his fans were increasingly powerless to control the comments.

In the fan club chat, Wang Lei reassured everyone to hold their ground for now, trust Shen Zhiyu, and trust that the company would provide a perfect explanation.

The fans gradually calmed down.

The situation had developed to this point partly due to Languang Media’s assistance.

Initially, Jiang Zhou was anxious to clarify things quickly. Unexpectedly, while they were still searching for evidence, the opposition couldn’t hold back and continued to pour on the dirty water.

The Ye family was targeting Shen Zhiyu. Shen Zhiyu had no affiliated companies under his name; the only things that could be suppressed were his career and reputation.

Since Shen Zhiyu himself had virtually no dirt to dig up, they resorted to indiscriminate attacks, attempting to completely drown him in a flood of capital-driven public opinion.

Often, netizens don’t care about the truth; they are simply intoxicated by participating in the frenzy of a traffic-driven siege.

In this context, responding tends to trigger more baseless accusations. Back and forth, it would only lead to an exhausting tug-of-war.

Languang Media’s delay was intentional, waiting for the opponent to lose patience first.

A full week had passed since Xie Qing’s explosive live stream. The silence from the person involved made Xie Qing look like a clown jumping up and down.

The entertainment industry is never short of new things, and the heat surrounding the Xie Xuan incident was steadily dropping. The mastermind failed to land a decisive blow, and subsequent rumors lacked traction, naturally making them restless.

This led to the increasingly bizarre slanders and fabrications that followed.

Jiang Zhou was waiting for this exact moment.

To further fuel the public discussion, Languang Media even personally entered the fray, following suit and “slandering” Shen Zhiyu. The rumored content became even more outrageous, claiming he was “bisexual,” served sugar daddies above, engaged in mixed-gender orgies privately, and even had two illegitimate children.

Shen Zhiyu scrolled through the so-called “dirt” published by Jiang Zhou’s team, raising an eyebrow slightly, “Serving a sugar daddy? Mixed-gender orgies? Two illegitimate children?”

Jiang Zhou remained expressionless: “Work requirement. It’s all fake.”

Shen Zhiyu reached out to rub Jiang Zhou’s earlobe, whispering close to him, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“?” Jiang Zhou put down his phone and looked at him, confused.

Shen Zhiyu leaned close to his ear, his voice sticky and moist, wrapped in a layer of ambiguous humidity, “Serving. Sugar daddy.”

As the words fell, he gently bit Jiang Zhou’s earlobe and asked in a low voice, “Did President Jiang write it this way on purpose?”

Jiang Zhou’s breathing hitched, and a faint blush quickly spread across his cheeks.

He quietly defended himself: “No—”

Before Jiang Zhou could finish, Shen Zhiyu’s kisses rained down, dense and frequent, from his earlobe all the way to the side of his neck, with a few light, almost punishing bites that quickly turned into tender licks.

His breathing quickened, and his fingers unconsciously clenched the fabric over Shen Zhiyu’s chest.

“You did it on purpose.” Shen Zhiyu chuckled, his breath hot, “Writing that I serve a sugar daddy, writing that my private life is chaotic. President Jiang, have you wanted to see me like this for a long time?”

Jiang Zhou was kissed into incoherence, the corners of his eyes reddening, “It’s a work strategy, you know that.”

“When you acquired Chengxing Entertainment, you also called it a business strategy.” Shen Zhiyu’s teeth lightly scraped Jiang Zhou’s lower lip, “What happened after that?”

Jiang Zhou hadn’t expected Shen Zhiyu to bring up old scores and was momentarily speechless.

“Hmm? Explain yourself, President Jiang.”

Jiang Zhou’s breathing was ragged from the kissing. The hand he used to push Shen Zhiyu away rested weakly against his chest, unable to exert any force.

“Sh-Shen Zhiyu.” He turned his head away from the dizzying kiss, his voice fragmented, “The main business isn’t finished yet.”

“Main business?” Shen Zhiyu chuckled, his wet, hot kiss landing on his Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid pulse beneath it, “I am cooperating with the press release you issued. Isn’t this the most urgent main business?”

Jiang Zhou’s rationality was teetering. He grabbed Shen Zhiyu’s wandering hand, his breathing ragged, “Wait, I haven’t finished giving instructions—”

“I can’t wait.” Shen Zhiyu intertwined their fingers, pushing him back into the sofa cushion, his nose affectionately rubbing against Jiang Zhou’s nose, his eyes dark and swirling, “You said I serve a sugar daddy—” With every word he spoke, he pressed closer until there was no gap between them, their breaths mingling.

“I have to, you know, confirm the charge.” He captured Jiang Zhou’s lips, murmuring indistinctly, “Otherwise, wouldn’t it be a waste?”

Jiang Zhou closed his eyes, tilted his head back, his throat bobbing, letting out a near-surrendering whimper.

Just as their entanglement deepened, Jiang Zhou’s phone, resting on the coffee table, vibrated abruptly.