“Look! Look! Bai Yingchuan is even more handsome in person than on screen!”

“I heard that if you sign up as a MARS premium member today, you can get Bai Yingchuan’s autograph on the spot!”

“No wonder the huge MARS store is completely surrounded by people.”

Even across the street at the pizza shop, there was a life-sized standee of Bai Yingchuan. Zhao Changfeng felt like even while eating pizza, he was being watched by him.

Watching Jiang Ruotang pulling apart the cheesy pizza, Zhao Changfeng couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you going to see Bai Yingchuan?”

“Huh? Will you protect me if I do?” Jiang Ruotang gave him a sideways glance.

“Why would I need to protect you?”

“If you don’t protect me and I get trampled to death, what then? I haven’t even told you where I hid that star player card.”

“God… gold…”

Seeing that Jiang Ruotang had no interest in Bai Yingchuan, Zhao Changfeng inexplicably felt happy.

But under the table, Jiang Ruotang lightly kicked Zhao Changfeng again. “By the way, are you close with Meng Yang?”

“We’ve played basketball together since junior high. Why?”

“Do you really know him?”

“Don’t talk in half-sentences. Spit it out.”

“He’s the one who knocked the class monitor’s glasses off. I saw him smirking in the office afterward. The class monitor can’t get a new pair before the exam. If I hadn’t thought of contact lenses, the class monitor would’ve failed math for sure.”

Zhao Changfeng frowned. “That’s impossible. Meng Yang and the class monitor have no beef.”

“But isn’t Ye Jiaming, the second in the grade, competing with the class monitor for the recommendation slot? The school will consider the monthly exam scores. And Meng Yang’s pretty close with Ye Jiaming, right? Those new sneakers of his were a gift from Ye Jiaming.”

Zhao Changfeng looked at Jiang Ruotang. “That’s just your guess. No proof.”

“Yeah, no proof. But I just want you to be cautious of him. Changfeng, remember this—true friends compete fairly. They don’t use your feelings as leverage to make you give up opportunities.”

Jiang Ruotang gave him a serious look.

Zhao Changfeng’s fingers trembled. He suddenly remembered how a few days ago, Meng Yang, upon hearing he’d hired a personal trainer and coach, said with envy, “Changfeng, you’ll definitely get picked by a capital city university. Leave the Shengshi Jiaoda spot to me, okay?”

At that moment, a chill crept over Zhao Changfeng’s heart.

Jiang Ruotang saw the look on Zhao Changfeng’s face and knew he’d taken her words to heart. “Don’t overthink it. Changfeng, if you really become a pro basketball player one day, you’ll have more teammates, friends, and supporters. Life naturally filters people out—you’ll see who your real friends are in the end.”

“God… Gold… you sound so old and wise. Like you’ve been through all this already.”

Jiang Ruotang looked at Zhao Changfeng and thought: You’re the one who’s been through the filtering and is still by my side, my brother.

Around 7:50, Jiang Ruotang unexpectedly got a WeChat message.

He thought it’d be from Lin Lu or maybe his nervous dad, but when he saw the name, Jiang Ruotang froze.

It was from Bai Yingchuan.

[Are you here? Do you want me to have security bring you in?]

Jiang Ruotang scratched his head. What the heck? Bai Yingchuan caring if he came or not?

Could it be Lin Lu using Bai Yingchuan’s phone again?

[Lin Lu?]

Immediately, a voice message arrived: [It’s Bai Yingchuan.]

Though the background was noisy, Bai Yingchuan’s unique, magnetic voice still cut through loud and clear.

Leaning back in his chair, Jiang Ruotang slowly typed:
[Not going. It’s packed here. I’m having pizza with a buddy. Good luck with your event!]

After thinking for a moment, he sent a “you are the center of the universe” meme. How Bai Yingchuan interpreted that was his problem.

By then, it was already 7:30 PM. Bai Yingchuan glanced down at his phone, smiling, but his gaze turned cold.

Because that meme felt like a perfunctory compliment.

Beside him, Lin Lu sensed his mood immediately and thought he was irritated by the crowd. She whispered, “Yingchuan, just bear with it a little longer. Fans and supporters are all here for you!”

Meanwhile, Jiang Ruotang and Zhao Changfeng reached the rooftop terrace. The top floor was brightly lit; a sea of flowers illuminated the night like a fairyland.

Zhao Changfeng was stunned. “Uncle Jiang is this romantic?”

Jiang Ruotang curled his lip. “His idea of romance is preparing a European princess bed with curtains. Want one?”

Zhao Changfeng shuddered. “Ughhh—gross.”

At that moment, Zhao Yunshu stood frozen by the flower sea. Her last marriage had only brought pain and tears. She’d never dreamed anyone would give her flowers again.

But tonight, this whole terrace of fresh blooms was hers.

Jiang Huaiyuan knelt down on one knee, fumbling forever in his pocket before finally pulling out a small box. From afar, Jiang Ruotang breathed a sigh of relief.

Too far to hear what he said exactly, but it was obvious he stammered through it.

Zhao Changfeng got anxious watching. If Jiang Ruotang weren’t holding him back, he’d have rushed over to propose for him.

But no matter how nervous or awkward, Zhao Yunshu patiently waited for him to finish.

When that ring finally slipped onto Zhao Yunshu’s finger, Zhao Changfeng was truly happy for his mom. But then he worriedly glanced at Jiang Ruotang.

“Hey, are you seriously okay with them being together? You’re not going to sabotage this later, right?” he asked.

Jiang Ruotang held out his fist. “Little brother, we’re really family now.”

“Ugh, who’s your little brother? Quit flattering yourself.”

As they fist-bumped, the lights on the Twin Towers suddenly changed.

Amid gasps from the crowd, the left tower lit up with “Xiao Yun, I love you,” while the right tower, the one across from them, blazed “Xiao Yun, marry me,” shining brilliantly in the night sky, visible across the whole city.

Zhao Yunshu was dumbfounded, holding Jiang Huaiyuan and pounding his back: “What the heck! So embarrassing!”

Jiang Huaiyuan hugged her tightly, palms sweaty but full of joy—even if their son had gone overboard, he felt glad.

Zhao Changfeng frowned. “Was the timing off? Shouldn’t the lights have come on when he proposed?”

“Because this was for the confession, not pressure. If Aunt Zhao said no, these lights would’ve stayed dark. Everyone would go home and move on. But since Aunt Zhao agreed, the lights witnessed it. It’s also Dad’s promise—the whole city knows Jiang Huaiyuan lit up Jinshang mall to propose. If he ever wrongs Aunt Zhao, the city will mock him.”

Zhao Changfeng paused. When he looked at Jiang Ruotang again, the lights highlighted his face and eyes, filled with a quiet strength that made people want to trust him.

…Maybe having a big brother like this wasn’t so bad.

Ugh, what are you thinking, Zhao Changfeng!

Meanwhile, through the mall’s glass windows, Bai Yingchuan, Lin Lu, and the fans all saw the blazing proposal words on the opposite tower.

“What… what’s going on…” Lin Lu stared blankly. Why was it saying “Xiao Yun” over there?

Even the fans started getting annoyed.

“Who’s that Xiao Yun? Why is her name on the confession screen?”

“Didn’t the fan club’s Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu say he had already reserved the confession screen?”

“Did the mall make a mistake? This is ridiculous!”

At that moment, Lin Lu’s phone vibrated like crazy. Countless fans were tagging him in the group chats, demanding to know what was going on and why the confession screen didn’t display the promised message.

Some extreme fans were already raging, accusing him of messing up this huge matter—suggesting he might’ve used Bai Yingchuan’s name to get sponsorship, only to pocket the funds himself.

Because Lin Lu was well-known in the circle, he had always made statements to guide his followers to drive out anyone who displeased him. He had plenty of supporters, but also plenty of fan club members who couldn’t stand him.

Many fans present were exactly the ones he had led such online battles against—and now, of course, they came to confront him.

“I heard someone calling you Lin Lu just now! You’re Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu, right? Didn’t you say you’d secured sponsorship to light up the confession screen?”

“Where is the confession screen then? Did you swallow your promises whole?”

“Unbelievable! Yingchuan, do you know this Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu claimed in the group that he got sponsors to light up the confession screen for you? You should ask him where the money went! Do the sponsors even know this?”

The indignation of a few fans stirred up the crowd. More and more people gathered around, as if ready to trap Lin Lu.

Lin Lu stumbled backward in fright, even losing a shoe! When he fell to the ground, something splashed on him.

Recent news stories about acid attacks flashed in his mind, making him panic. He immediately covered his face with both hands.

“Don’t do this to me!”

“Oh wow—you sure know how to play the victim!”

Lin Lu frantically tried to deny it. “I’m not Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu! I’m not! You’ve got the wrong person!”

“Liar! You said in the group you’d be in the closest spot to Bai Yingchuan!”

“Yeah, you even said you were the one gege trusted the most!”

Lin Lu tried to get up, but the crowd was too dense. Every malicious gaze made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. “I’m not! I’m not the person you’re talking about!”

“Then who are you? Why are you standing so close to gege?”

“Right! You’re clearly not staff!”

“I’m Bai Yingchuan’s classmate! I’m his classmate!”

Lin Lu looked at all the angry, suspicious, judgmental faces. Across the gaps in the crowd, Bai Yingchuan faintly saw Lin Lu’s guilty expression.

The manager hurried to Lin Lu’s side to protect him—after all, Lin Lu was Lin Chengdong’s son, and they still needed Lin Chengdong’s resources. She kept signaling Bai Yingchuan with her eyes to say something to calm the crowd.

Bai Yingchuan took the microphone that a staff member urgently handed him and said, “Everyone, please don’t get agitated—listen to me. Today is a very, very special day. It’s the day that my mentor in the entertainment industry, the first director who ever put me on the big screen, Director Jiang Huaiyuan, is proposing to his beloved.”

The crowd quieted for the moment, all turning to look at Bai Yingchuan.

This gave Lin Lu a chance to retreat to the back.

As he listened to Bai Yingchuan’s words, Lin Lu instinctively wanted to call Jiang Ruotang to question why he hadn’t told him about the confession screen being changed.

But as his finger hovered over Jiang Ruotang’s name, Lin Lu suddenly realized—Jiang Ruotang had never once said he rented the confession screen for Bai Yingchuan.

Even though Lin Lu had implied that Jiang Ruotang should rent it, Jiang Ruotang had replied that he’d have to check with his father.

When Lin Lu confirmed again that Friday afternoon, Jiang Ruotang had only said, “My family needs it”—it was Lin Lu himself who had assumed Jiang Ruotang still couldn’t get over Bai Yingchuan, still a hopeless love-struck fool!

Lin Lu had thought the only reason Jiang Ruotang would rent the screen was to confess to Bai Yingchuan. He never imagined Jiang Huaiyuan would use it to propose to Zhao Yunshu!

His ears buzzed; even a staff member handing him water startled him.

At the front, Bai Yingchuan said clearly, “I don’t know what misunderstanding happened here, but before I came today, Director Jiang told me that if his proposal succeeded, the wall behind me would light up. Looks like congratulations are in order—he succeeded.”

The fans felt even more certain that Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu was the problem. In the forums and fan groups, discussions exploded about whether he had lied, whether he had faked getting a sponsor just to attract attention, or if he had actually taken the sponsorship money and pocketed it.

Debates raged back and forth; someone even started a poll.

Option A: Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu is a braggart, seeking attention.

Option B: Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu pocketed the sponsorship funds.

Option C: No matter what, he’s a liar.

Everyone overwhelmingly chose Option C.

Lin Lu’s phone kept buzzing. When he checked it, he could only grit his teeth as he watched everyone gossip about him—yet he had no way to defend himself.

“To congratulate Director Jiang and his future wife on their upcoming marriage, I’d like to sing a song for them—Morning and Evening—wishing them lifelong love and unity.”

The fans cheered loudly.

Bai Yingchuan was calm and sincere, his performance full of warmth. Many fans took out their phones to record him, capturing the “Marry Me” message lit up on the building in the background. The atmosphere was perfect, and the moment quickly became a hot topic on all major platforms.

Everyone online praised him—even though he could have been the star of the mall’s grand opening, he gave the spotlight to Director Jiang’s proposal and sang a blessing. Such grace at a young age meant great promise for the future. Many fans even called out to Director Jiang to consider casting Bai Yingchuan as the lead in his next film.

Even the MARS brand gained unexpected exposure—the store’s grand opening was deemed a surprising success.

After the event ended, manager Yu-jie and the assistant escorted Bai Yingchuan and Lin Lu home.

Actually, Bai Yingchuan’s team had long suspected that the superfan Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu was Lin Lu.

Manager Yu-jie had even thought Lin Lu was there on behalf of Lin Chengdong to support Bai Yingchuan, assuming the confession screen was something Lin Chengdong had paid for—but it all turned out to be a misunderstanding.

By the time they dropped Lin Lu off at home, the fan groups and support sites were still mocking Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu.

Given Bai Yingchuan’s smooth reaction at the event, it was clear he had known about Director Jiang’s proposal.

But that supposed big fan who claimed to have booked the confession screen—Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu—had clearly been left out of the loop. How awkward.

On the way home, Lin Lu was still shaken. When the car door opened, he sat there motionless until Bai Yingchuan softly said, “Lin Lu, we’re here.”

Lin Lu’s shoulders trembled. He instinctively wanted to explain, but there was nothing to explain—he’d denied being Lin Shen Chu Jian Lu in public. Would Bai Yingchuan believe him? It sounded like such a clumsy lie…

At that moment, Bai Yingchuan reached out and gently ruffled Lin Lu’s hair, his voice warm: “It’s your first time seeing something like that, isn’t it? The ones who say they love you, believe in you, support you—they can turn against you in an instant.”

Lin Lu’s big eyes filled with tears, which fell uncontrollably, making him look heartbreakingly pitiful.

“So… you’ve been bearing this kind of pressure all along?”

“I’m used to it. Go home, get some sleep, everything will be fine tomorrow.” Bai Yingchuan’s voice was full of comfort.

Lin Lu’s mood instantly brightened. To him, no matter what the fans said online, he could just delete his account and start over.

As long as Bai Yingchuan didn’t doubt or blame him—nothing else mattered.

Lin Lu wiped away his tears with a smile and turned to head home.

The car door closed again. In the back seat, three assistants were still glued to their laptops, managing the online public opinion.

Agent Sister Yu said, “I thought you’d at least give Lin Lu a warning or hint—tell him not to dream about being some kind of opinion leader in your fan base again.”

“His father is Lin Chengdong—an ally my mother wouldn’t dare offend. It’s basic survival in this industry to see through things without saying them aloud, isn’t it?” Bai Yingchuan put away his smile completely, a trace of mockery flickering in his eyes.

“That’s true. Lin Lu made such a huge blunder today, and now our team can take advantage of it to release the official announcement. Starting tomorrow night, we’ll light up the display screen for three nights straight. Each night’s content will be previewed in advance, so that the staff’s official accounts can earn authority among your fans.”

The agent seemed to think of something and added, “I have to say, your response exceeded my expectations. Singing ‘Morning and Evening’ on the spot not only calmed the fans’ anger but also earned a favor from Director Jiang.”

“It wasn’t my quick thinking,” Bai Yingchuan replied.

“Huh?”

“It was Director Jiang’s son who gave me the suggestion.” Bai Yingchuan handed his phone to Sister Yu to show her the message.

“I’m starting to think he’s better suited to be your agent than I am.” Sister Yu half-joked, then reminded him, “But your mother still wants you to maintain a good relationship with Lin Lu. Director Jiang may have talent and ability in the industry, but he lacks the skill to run a company or control people’s hearts. When Qin Han and the other old board members eventually retire, the decision-making power of Huanyu Films will fall into Lin Chengdong’s hands sooner or later.”

Bai Yingchuan gazed out the window and quietly asked, “Will it?”

The car pulled up in front of Bai Yingchuan’s house. The entire building was dark, like a giant box swallowed by the night.

He opened the door, turned on the lights, changed into slippers, and slowly made his way to his room, where he sat in a chair.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting his profile in a cold silvery glow.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and as if jolted by something, he immediately sat upright. The screen lit up—Lin Lu’s message. Bai Yingchuan glanced at it indifferently, then flipped the phone face-down on the desk.

As for Lin Lu, he hadn’t slept a wink all night. He opened Jiang Ruotang’s social media and saw a photo of the Twin Towers lit up. Many classmates had left comments congratulating him. So… Jiang Ruotang had been at Twin Mall that evening too?

Did he witness his own humiliating scene?

Just then, more notifications popped up—he had been removed as an admin from the fan site, kicked out of the main fan group, and so on.

Lin Lu felt suffocated. These people used to treat his words as gospel, and now, over one slip-up, they all turned on him.

He thought for a long time, wanting to post a clarification on the forum explaining that the display screen’s content had been changed last minute, and he hadn’t been on-site to know.

But when he opened the forum, he found someone had already posted a detailed analysis saying that Lin Shenchu Jianlu’s real crime wasn’t a mistake in information, but lying.

If the screen had truly been funded through his sponsorship, there would have been a contract, and any last-minute changes would have required the sponsor’s approval. As the one who secured the sponsorship, Lin Lu would have been informed.

Even staff from Jinshang Mall came forward to clarify that the Twin Towers’ display content had been finalized as early as Friday—there was no last-minute switch.

With that, Lin Shenchu Jianlu was utterly exposed, with no room for defense.

Fans furiously flooded the post with condemnation, some even analyzing past statements to figure out who this person really was.

Many of them had traveled from other cities based on his “insider news,” just to see Bai Yingchuan’s confession screen.

Some had flown or taken the train, spent money on hotel rooms in Sheng City—an expensive place—and even taken leave from work with salary deductions. The costs weren’t small.

Now they felt completely tricked by this “fake news” and were fuming, shouting online that Lin Shenchu Jianlu was guilty of fraud, should be expelled from the fandom, and some even called for reporting him to the police to make him pay everyone’s losses.

“It was your choice to spend money to support Bai Yingchuan—I never held a knife to your throat! Fake fans, all of you, hypocrites!”