Chapter 72: Response

P.S. Thank you to the reader who donated “hahaha” for the book coins!

“I thought you’d just start yelling at Cao Mufeng right away,” Wen Xia teased, watching Luo Quan return to her seat.

Luo Quan chuckled: “If I’m going to yell, it’ll be at the host… These shows these days have hit rock bottom, deliberately stirring up drama for clicks—I’m truly impressed.”

Wen Xia shrugged: “What can you do? Even top stars get set up. But you handled yourself well—didn’t offend anyone, and kept your dignity.”

“Whether I lost face or not depends on what Weibo says,” Luo Quan replied, opening Weibo.

As expected, her exchange with Cao Mufeng had already trended; the comment sections were flooded with fan wars, and Luo Quan held a slight edge.

Mainly because Luo Quan had more young male fans; though they rarely showed up on Weibo normally, when it came to online battles, female fans still fell far behind.

But some girls were masters of provocation—after years of navigating fan circles, they’d mastered countless ways to instantly ignite rage.

One tactic was photoshopping death photos and fabricating fake news—content so vile it couldn’t even be described as offensive; every line was filled with vulgar abuse.

Luo Quan once thought the defamation she endured in Japan was the peak of netizens’ cruelty, but now she realized she’d overestimated the moral standards of fan girls.

As a public figure and a well-educated university student, personally attacking fans would be beneath her. After much hesitation, she posted a Weibo urging her own fans to stay calm, avoid verbal fights with others, and not be manipulated by those with ulterior motives.

Coincidentally, less than half a minute later, Cao Mufeng also posted a Weibo telling his female fans not to harass Luo Quan, warning that anyone who caused trouble would be immediately banned from his fan club.

This surprised Luo Quan—she hadn’t expected Cao Mufeng to be so indulgent on stage yet so strict off-camera, expelling fans outright for disobedience.

But then again, fans who constantly drag their idol into scandals can’t just be called brain-dead—they’re beyond that. Why keep them around for the New Year?

“Cao Mufeng’s different from most trendy young idols,” Luo Quan murmured, lifting her head to glance at his seat.

At that moment, Cao Mufeng seemed to sense it—he looked up, meeting her gaze.

Their eyes met, they smiled briefly, then looked away.

“You two… didn’t just fall for each other already?” Wen Xia watched clearly—both had looked at each other at the exact same moment. What perfect timing.

Luo Quan frowned: “Sorry, I’m not considering anything like that for the next ten years.”

“No way!” Wen Xia gasped. “Did something happen to you? Trauma?”

Luo Quan lifted her arm, flexing her muscles: “I’ve trained martial arts—I’m not afraid of gang bosses. What could possibly scare me? I just have zero interest in romance.”

Luo Quan didn’t elaborate further on matters of the heart—attitudes like this don’t change overnight, and some never change at all.

Of course, estrogen might influence her, but if she couldn’t overcome the psychological barrier, nothing mattered. At least for now, Luo Quan had no desire to date.

Under the two stars’ constraints, fan wars instantly died down. A few stragglers still cursed, but they were mostly fans of other celebrities stoking the fire—no need to respond.

But the debate sparked by Luo Quan and Cao Mufeng didn’t end there.

The low-quality fan brawls ended, replaced by arguments among a group of “music enthusiasts.”

Zhihu already had a related question:

“Who is the leading figure of the new generation of Chinese-language pop music: Luo Quan or Cao Mufeng?”

Undeniably, Cao Mufeng’s talent was respected within the industry; though half his songs didn’t align with mainstream tastes—some called them heavenly melodies, others deafening noise.

But his music carried genuine philosophical depth, meticulously crafted—he wrote every lyric, composed every melody, arranged every track; in musical theory alone, he was a tier above all his peers.

In simple terms: casual listeners found his songs average, but professionals found them deeply valuable.

High art, few listeners—that’s how insiders described Cao Mufeng’s music.

As for why he had so many fans, it was mainly because he was handsome.

Female fans usually didn’t care about an idol’s music quality—only his appearance mattered. So even if his songs weren’t mainstream, he still had massive support, and his concerts always sold out.

Luo Quan’s style was almost the exact opposite: catchy, earworm pop songs you loved after one listen, with incredibly broad appeal.

Though Luo Quan had only one Chinese song so far, in terms of popularity, both “Lemon” and “Faded” far surpassed Cao Mufeng’s biggest hits.

On Douyin alone, over a hundred thousand users had covered her songs, with total views exceeding a billion—she might as well be called the most covered artist online.

And this was only with one Chinese song—if she ever released a full Chinese album, her songs’ popularity would skyrocket even further!

In terms of mainstream appeal, Cao Mufeng was utterly defeated; most people in the thread believed Luo Quan was superior.

But supporters of Cao Mufeng still presented solid arguments.

For instance, Luo Quan’s style was outdated, lacking innovation—she merely built on predecessors’ work at a higher level, without bringing any real innovation to Chinese music.

Cao Mufeng, since his debut, had always led the avant-garde of Chinese music, creating experimental pop that blended accessibility with philosophy; in a few years, he might even enter the ranks of true artists!

That’s something a pop singer like Luo Quan could never match. And vocally, Cao Mufeng had the highest tenor among young singers—even many veteran artists couldn’t match him. That was his greatest advantage over Luo Quan.

In today’s online environment, vocal skill is a key indicator of artistic merit. Cao Mufeng’s voice was nearly the ceiling for singers under forty—and terrifyingly, he was only twenty-five, with immense potential for growth.

So vocally, Luo Quan was completely at a disadvantage.

At least in Cao Mufeng’s fans’ eyes, her singing was merely average.