Chapter 221

In the office, Fang Hong was browsing information and netizens' comments on his tablet.

He was just reading how people were insulting him.

Feng Kuzi, being straightforward, publicly told the media: "The Principal is the most damn unprincipled person in this circle."

Jiu Ba Dao still said: "Literary thieves deserve to be spat upon—if your literary works were stolen, would you just accept it?"

Ai Dajin said: "If theft is allowed, it will be a tragedy for Chinese music."

Ceng Aizi in the Greater Bay Area said: "I just like to talk nonsense, but some people love to hit others randomly. I've recently seen this person's past, and I'm deeply concerned about his character—I still urge him to be kinder. Those who win awards at ceremonies are all people of virtue and talent."

His remarks were strongly backed by Tan Xiaozhang and Qiu Likuan, who is the agent of big-name artists like Wang Fei and Na Ying.

He has serious connections and maintains close ties with Hong Kong's entertainment circle.

It's said—only said—that this man is Zhiling Jiejie's benefactor; once, when Zhiling Jiejie performed in Las Vegas, local gangsters threatened her into prostitution, but this man stepped in and settled the matter.

He's quite formidable.

But this is just rumor—the benefactor claim came from Zhiling Jiejie herself on a show, where she said: "Kuan Jie is my benefactor and my knight!"

The "Anti-Principal Alliance" was a recent trend, fueled not only by these people's united boycott but also by netizens' comments.

"I don't know who the Principal is, or even who he is—apparently he's the guy who played Young Master Zhao. Judging by his character, he might really be trash."

"Why is Liu Tianxian collaborating with someone like this? Break up with him immediately—what a scumbag."

"I keep seeing people insult the Principal, but why don't I ever see the Principal insulting anyone else?"

"None of these people are good!"

"Feng Kuzi insults everyone—he's arrogant; when others contacted the Music Association and he wasn't invited, he got mad—he's picking on the weak."

The conclusion drawn was: Could it be possible that the Principal is actually a good person?

"."

Online information these days is a mess, but some netizens do have analytical ability.

Otherwise, no matter how the public opinion is steered, there are always netizens standing on the opposite side.

Just as all kinds of chaotic online opinions were raging, video platforms like Youku and Tudou released the full, unedited 2011 Golden Horse Awards video.

The video was three hours long and completely uncut.

This video was too long to spark any controversy—the hype had passed, and other platforms had already aired a two-hour version.

Even so, no one noticed.

But a clipped segment of the confrontation between the Principal and Ceng Aizi that night was widely shared and blown up by netizens.

"I told you—I saw exactly this back then! How did it all disappear? It was clearly the dwarf who provoked first, and the Principal didn't hit him—just pushed him."

"Now the truth is out."

"This guy clearly speaks without restraint—he should apologize."

"Liu Tianxian is so patient—if it were me, I'd have slapped him right away."

"Ultimately, is Liu Tianxian gay?"

"."

With the full video surfacing online, the events of Golden Horse night resurfaced once again.

This time, capital couldn't erase it—because the full version was in someone's hands; if it could be released once, it could be released again.

The issue gained significant heat, and reporters asked Ceng Aizi for his opinion.

He brushed it off: "It's been so long—let's not talk about it anymore. Why don't you focus on the question I asked at the Golden Horses?"

He had asked whether Liu Tianxian was gay.

This was a classic case of diverting attention—making people stop focusing on him and instead focus on Liu Tianxian's sexuality.

Public opinion erupted; netizens and media dug up Liu's past gay-related incidents again, and attention shifted.

Ceng Aizi was very skilled at this kind of maneuver—but he'd met Fang Hong, who held nuclear weapons.

A massive scandal emerged from Tianya; once posted, it spread instantly across the entire internet.

QQ groups, forums, Weibo, Tieba—everywhere was flooded with that shocking image.

Even without media, netizens' power was immense and unstoppable; leveraging the internet's transmission advantage, it spread nationwide in minutes.

"Amazing, amazing, truly amazing!"

"We're all men, hahaha!"

"Actually, I do the same at home, hehehe."

"This bonus is good, but it's too shocking."

"Disgusting! Perverted! Creepy!"

"Any more? Send a few more—I love it!"

"You're the pervert upstairs."

"This bastard should be destroyed—to avenge that someone."

"."

Netizens mocked everywhere, and many felt vindicated—the heat was unprecedented, burying every other scandal, and Liu Tianxian's issue was buried again.

His image even improved, because his opponents had been tainted—what they said was naturally unbelievable.

Media quickly followed, publishing massive reports; suddenly, it was all over the news, loud and chaotic, incredibly lively.

Of course, mainstream media stayed out of it.

Ceng Aizi held a press conference immediately: "This is computer-generated, not real—please don't believe it."

The speed was so fast—he was clearly panicking. He secretly tried contacting Neidi internet PR firms to suppress the heat and put out the fire.

Even though it was pixelated, it was still shocking.

Some netizens were professional at Photoshop; analyzing lighting and posture, they concluded it wasn't synthesized—it was real.

Clearly, the other side had come prepared, which made Ceng Aizi feel terrible, forcing him to hold another press conference: "Using false photos to spread rumors will be met with legal action."

He was still denying that the photos were manipulated.

But no matter how he denied it, the incident had already stirred up a storm across the city, impossible to suppress.

The entire internet was ablaze with this controversy; Wangyi watched with delight and commented enthusiastically.

Just as Fang Hong was enjoying the commotion, his phone rang; he glanced at it and answered.

"Did you do this?" Liu Tianxian demanded.

"Yes!" Fang Hong admitted outright.

"I don't even know what to say to you—I told you not to do this kind of thing again, why won't you listen?" Liu Tianxian's tone was harsh.

I've told you many times—don't do it, don't do it, it won't benefit you, yet you still won't listen! "Then what do you want me to do? Take abuse without fighting back? You're the victim too." Fang Hong shot back.

"I'd rather be the victim than have you do something so disgraceful. Do you understand?" Liu Tianxian's tone grew heavier.

Fang Hong fell silent for a moment.

"This is a harm to you—it damages your future, your worth, your reputation. How can you not see that?" Liu Tianxian felt utterly frustrated.

When you were weak, doing this kind of thing was understandable—you were trying to rise up. But now? Still doing it?

I don't even know what you're fighting for. Not for money, not for profit—just to win an argument, you do something so dirty. It's not worth it.

This man is good in every way, but he just can't shake this rotten habit.

"Do you remember the Knifing Sect incident? The truth often doesn't matter—lies can destroy a person. If you want people to see you as good, the other side must be evil—that's smearing."

Fang Hong laid bare human nature.

Only by smearing the other side, by demonizing them, can they position themselves as the victims.

The Rosetta Stone incident was exactly like this.

"Don't lecture me about grand principles—I don't understand? You must walk upright and stand firm in this world to have no regrets." Liu Tianxian hung up.

Let the man think for himself.

Fang Hong silently put down his phone, quietly turned off the news report. His earlier satisfaction had turned to heavy gloom.

Had he done anything wrong?

This thing came from his own hand—made people think he was dirty, base.

"Ding ding ding!"

The phone rang again—a number he didn't recognize—but Fang Hong answered anyway.

"Did you do this?"

A middle-aged man's voice. Fang Hong recognized it—Zhang Hongsen of the Film Bureau.

"Director, I don't know what you're talking about," Fang Hong feigned ignorance.

"Don't play dumb with me. If I'm calling, I've already heard the news," Zhang Hongsen said.

They had secret channels to learn of such things.

He continued: "Don't ever do this kind of underhanded thing again. Broaden your horizons. Don't keep fixating on a few people and attacking them—what's the point?"

"Director, they started insulting me first," Fang Hong whined, as if it were all his fault.

"I know. Did you lose anything?" Zhang Hongsen countered.

"No," Fang Hong's voice grew quieter.

Indeed, he hadn't lost anything. No matter how much they insulted him, no one above had said a word, nor threatened any punishment.

They still supported him in making films—otherwise, during the filming of "Superbody 1," someone of that rank wouldn't have visited the set.

"I'm not telling you to swallow your grievances. When someone challenges you, face it openly, handle it properly, be magnanimous. Don't resort to scheming—it looks terrible, it's despicable, do you understand?"

Zhang Hongsen's tone softened slightly.

Fang Hong fell silent, unsure what to say.

The man was higher in status, older in age, and his words carried life experience—useful for Fang Hong's future.

Previously, when Yutu Film promoted films and manipulated public opinion, no one above had ever reprimanded him.

The market works this way: direct confrontation, victory or defeat decided by skill!

Even when he clashed with Yu Pangzi, no one said much—only that they should boost the film market and prevent Hollywood from dominating.

But this time—it was too despicable. It crossed the line!

"This matter has already been handled by the higher-ups. Stop now," Zhang Hongsen warned.

Meaning: Ceng Aizi will vanish without a trace. Don't stir it up further.

"Understood, Director," Fang Hong nodded.

They ended the call. Fang Hong covered his face with both hands, then rubbed hard until his face turned red.

Although he won this battle, he lost the impression—he had made the higher-ups view him poorly.

He was once a promising talent, exporting films to Southeast Asia and South Korea—a fine calling card.

But the fact that someone personally reached out to him means they haven't given up on him—they still hope he'll return to the right path.

(End of Chapter)