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."
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
