The Misfortune of Lens 05

Thanks to Fang Zhiyi's groundwork, Liu Wei's video gained massive attention as soon as it was posted. Netizens were outraged.

"This vendor is money-crazy, isn’t she?"

"Twenty-four yuan for a bowl? Beef noodles? Oh, not instant noodles? Even then, there’s no way it’s worth twenty-four!"

"With that kind of mindset, no wonder she’s stuck running a street stall."

"Hey guys, I happened to pass by." The attached photo showed Fang Xiaoyu’s stall.

"At first glance, she looked pretty, but then—wow—that close-up shot! Her face is full of pettiness and scheming."

"Looks reflect the heart. People like her are doomed to bad luck."

Liu Wei hadn’t expected the backlash to be ten times worse than he’d anticipated. Fang Xiaoyu became the target. Watching the skyrocketing engagement, Liu Wei rubbed his hands in excitement.

The editor voiced his concern, "Wei, could this blow up in our faces?" He knew the vendor would inevitably face cyberbullying.

Liu Wei waved it off. "It’s nothing. Tomorrow, I’ll just post a comment urging everyone to stay rational. That’ll make me look magnanimous while keeping my hands clean."

As Liu Wei’s review video continued to spread, more and more people exposed Fang Xiaoyu’s stall. But the next day, Fang Zhiyi immediately moved with Fang Xiaoyu. She didn’t even have time to check her phone before her father hurried her to pack up their belongings.

"The landlord’s coming today. If we don’t move, we’ll be sleeping in the hallway."

Remembering her father’s words from the day before, Fang Xiaoyu felt a surge of determination. "Let’s go!"

The online storm raged for a full day, reaching absurd levels of virality—almost as if someone was fueling it behind the scenes. Liu Wei posted a lukewarm comment:

"The vendor is actually very kind, and her beef noodles taste great. Even though she didn’t accept my goodwill, I hope everyone will refrain from cyberbullying."

The replies flooded in:

"Wei, you’re the bigger person!"

"True class act."

"After seeing this, that woman seems even more unbearable."

"I found her school and real name!"

"I’ll camp out at her stall today, order a bowl, and dash without paying. What do you guys think?"

"Isn’t that going too far?"

"Hey, commenter above—are you the vendor in disguise?"

Just as Liu Wei was basking in his success and calculating his future earnings, the accounts that had initially promoted his video suddenly deleted their posts and uploaded a new clip. It appeared to be filmed by a bystander, but the footage was crystal clear—every word audible.

Fang Zhiyi had invested another sum.

I gave you ten times the exposure—now you’ll suffer ten times the backlash.

The video documented Liu Wei’s entire visit: him pretending to eat for the camera before spitting out the beef and tossing the noodles after two bites. Later, the vendor spoke clearly and politely, though her frown—explained by on-screen text—was due to her disgust at his food waste.

At the end, the filmer approached Liu Wei, capturing his muttered remark:

"Turns out she’s from a peasant family. No wonder she doesn’t know how to cooperate. Hmph." The disdain in his voice was unmistakable.

The video’s caption read: "I was once Wei’s fan. Today, I quit—because I’m also a farmer’s son."

Hordes of users who had previously defended Liu Wei were now directed to these videos. After watching, they fell silent—then erupted in fury.

Meanwhile, the influencers Fang Zhiyi had contacted earlier sprang into action. They summarized the entire "Beef Noodle Incident" with their signature speed, spreading it even faster.

"Wei! Disaster!"

Liu Wei was on the phone with a brand rep discussing a lucrative ad deal. "Stop yelling! Can’t you see I’m busy?" He was already planning to replace his incompetent team.

The call went silent, as if someone was whispering on the other end. Liu Wei waited patiently—this ad fee was astronomical.

Finally, the rep spoke again.

"Mr. Liu, we’re canceling our advertising collaboration."

"Wait—what?" Liu Wei was stunned.

"Associating with someone like you would damage our brand’s reputation. Goodbye."

The line went dead.

Liu Wei stood frozen before turning to his cameraman. "What were you shouting about earlier?"

Hands trembling, he scrolled through the comments. The very engagement he’d craved had become a blade turned against him.

"I always knew this guy was shady!"

"He almost fooled me!"

"Piece of trash! Looking down on farmers? My family’s been farming for three generations!"

"Hey, three generations back, everyone’s ancestors were farmers. Liu Wei’s a disgrace to his roots."

"Damn it! I vandalized the vendor’s sign this morning, and my wife slapped me when I got home. Liu Wei, you’re dead!"

There was too much to process. How had a simple food review spiraled into a class issue? What was wrong with being a farmer?

The cameraman silently showed him the bystander’s video.

Liu Wei wasn’t stupid. Seeing his own sneering remark paired with the caption, he realized someone had weaponized it. Review fraud was just unethical—some fans would still defend him. But with that one line, he’d become an enemy of the people.

His phone rang—an unknown number. The caller hurled obscenities.

Soon, his studio was doxxed. The scandal grew, his face turned into memes shared everywhere.

Liu Wei felt like he’d been plunged into ice.

Meanwhile, a new account caught everyone’s attention.

"Hello, I am the father of the beef noodle vendor."

"After yesterday’s events, my daughter was devastated. She… lost her mother young, and I raised her alone. Xiaoyu has always been diligent—never gave me trouble with her studies."

"After graduation, she chose to come back to our small town to take care of me instead of staying in the city. She’s a hardworking girl."

The sorrowful voiceover played over clips of Fang Xiaoyu’s awards, her college part-time jobs, daily receipts for fresh beef and vegetables, and her spotless food prep area.

"We’ve decided to close the stall. To the blogger ‘Tasty Wei,’ we apologize. My daughter grew up frugal—she can’t stand food waste, so she came off as rude. We’re sorry."