A Beijing socialite stole my boyfriend; she went crazy after I got married.

When Xie Qingyang returned to his villa, he first called his assistant Zhang to ask about the stocks, and then said something else.

"There's a trending topic today: a college student named Sun Hong rear-ended Jiang Chu's car. There's a video circulating online. Go find someone to give it a push and boost the trending topic."

As Xie Qingyang spoke, he opened a short video platform, preparing to forward the video to Assistant Zhang, "so that those platforms can coordinate..."

She paused.

The videos in the history cannot be opened.

I typed the keywords into the search bar again and again, and pressed enter three or four times—but the page remained completely blank, with nothing displayed.

"Young Miss?"

Assistant Zhang seemed somewhat puzzled.

Xie Qingyang did not answer.

She sat up straight on the sofa, logged out of the platform, and re-entered the keywords on a different search engine.

still none.

Xie Qingyang's fingers slowly tightened around the phone.

...Such fast movements.

The ability to perform a simultaneous cleanup across all platforms in such a short time is beyond the capabilities of most public relations firms.

Xie Qingyang stared at the blank search results on his phone screen. "Never mind that for now. Help me find out about a Peking University student surnamed Yu and her relationship with the Yu Jewelry Group."

-

On the other side of the city, a silent storm was also beginning.

In an office building, the founder of a medium-sized MCN agency was woken up from his sleep by a phone call.

He answered the call in a daze.

The company's general counsel's voice was urgent, as if he had just been pulled out of the water:

"Brother Liu, something's happened. Remember when three of our major accounts reposted a video of a Bentley rear-ending another car this afternoon?"

"I remember, so what?"

"The other party's law firm sent an electronic lawyer's letter demanding a certain amount of compensation—the editor-in-chief of the account just sent me a screenshot, and when I saw it, my scalp tingled."

"How many?"

"...500,000. 500,000 for one account. 1.5 million for all three accounts. The lawyer's letter says that if a public apology and compensation are not paid within 24 hours, they will directly file a criminal lawsuit on the grounds of defamation and disturbing public order."

There was silence on both ends of the phone call.

The same thing happened at the same time to at least a dozen self-media companies, marketing accounts, and several influential figures with a considerable number of followers.

Some people received electronic notices of response from the court late at night.

Some people saw in the backend that their accounts had been banned indefinitely by the platform.

Someone received a call from the police, who politely but firmly asked him to "come to the police station tomorrow morning to cooperate with the investigation."

Those accounts that were most active and hurled the most offensive insults in the comments section during the day have their profile pictures turned gray one by one.

And those who merely shared the video out of curiosity and casually commented, "This woman is definitely being kept" or "This kind of person doesn't deserve to go to Peking University"—

Then, in the early hours of the morning, I received a text message from a well-known law firm.

Some people thought it was a scam message, cursed it as a scammer, and then deleted it.

Some people clicked on the link with trembling hands and saw the attached lawyer's letter, which had already been electronically signed, as well as a screenshot that was crystal clear.

It was the line of text I had casually typed that afternoon.

At 8:00 a.m. the next morning, the traffic management bureau's official account posted a video.

"...The driver involved, Sun, had a blood alcohol content of 145mg/100ml, which constitutes drunk driving. The complete surveillance video of the incident is now being released."

The video is four minutes and twelve seconds long.

There are no signs of editing. The timestamp in the upper right corner of the screen jumps continuously, recording everything from the moment Sun Hong's BMW was slapped against the Bentley's rear bumper.

He staggered out of the driver's seat, reeking of alcohol, and pointed at the car in front, cursing loudly.

The Bentley door opened, and a young woman got out, taking out her phone to call the police.

Upon seeing this, Sun Hong suddenly sprang into action and slapped her across the face.

A bodyguard cut in from the side and swiftly pinned him to the ground.

And the subsequent determination process by the traffic police.

The comments section exploded.

-

As dawn broke through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the restaurant, the tableware on the white marble table gleamed with a soft sheen.

Several exquisite breakfast dishes were arranged in a staggered manner. The shrimp dumplings were crystal clear, the roast goose was glossy, a bowl of scallop congee was steaming, and there was a plate of crab roe buns and a few appetizers on the side.

Jiang Chu was eating when she suddenly remembered what happened yesterday, and hesitated to speak.

Her boyfriend came home very late last night, so she didn't tell him about the argument at school.

Xie Jing sat opposite him, looking at the tablet, and clearly noticed the little cat's hesitation. "...What do you want to say?"

He looked up at her.

Jiang Chu puffed out her cheeks. "Xie Qingyang and I had another fight at school, and I attacked her parents. Of course, she started it first."

She recounted the entire argument.

Xie Jing raised an eyebrow. "You're not wrong. If she can't even handle this, it just means she sets her expectations too high."

Jiang Chu blinked. "Huh?"

"When I was in school, some people used much harsher language," Xie Jing said calmly, "bastard, illegitimate child, little beast born of a mistress... and so on."

Jiang Chu sighed, "I could use even harsher language, but in that kind of situation, the person who starts by using profanity is more likely to lose the public's favor."

Xie Jing chuckled, "I'll talk to her next time."

Jiang Chu: "What did you say?"

Xie Jing: "You said your boyfriend is me. And that she's just my niece."

Jiang Chu hesitated for a moment, then said, "No, I want to be there too. I don't want to miss her breakdown."

Xie Jing signed his name on the tablet, "Okay."

Just as Jiang Chu was about to speak, her phone vibrated; it was Assistant Feng calling.

"To report the results, we have dealt with 137 accounts involved in spreading false information across the internet. Of these, 68 accounts have been banned, and the rest have had their content deleted and clarification statements issued. There are 43 cases that have been filed, including 27 against individual users and 16 against institutional accounts."

"Yes, thank you for your hard work."

"You're too kind. Also, there's one that's a bit special here," Assistant Feng paused, "Beijing Circle Hot News—you should remember them, their matrix of accounts reposted that video yesterday, and it got the most views of all the reposting accounts."

Jiang Chu paused for a moment. "I remember. They were one of the few families who mentioned Sun Hong's drunk driving."

"Their boss sent a message through someone, saying that he was willing to compensate them and hoped that they would not go through legal proceedings."

"...Take it."

Assistant Feng was very efficient; in less than half a minute, a different male voice came from the other end of the phone, sounding noticeably nervous and ingratiating.

"Ms. Jiang, hello, I'm Wang Lei, the content manager of Jingquan Hot News. Yesterday's video was due to our lax review process, which caused you great trouble. On behalf of the company, I sincerely apologize to you."

"Wang Lei," Jiang Chu sighed, "is this your first day in this line of work?"

"...No. I've been doing this for ten years."

"Oh," Jiang Chu flipped through the previous screenshots, "'Woman's luxury car was rear-ended, she had her bodyguard beat up a boy: He was drunk and faces five million in compensation; refuse drunk driving, starting with me.' Is this the title and content you approved?"

"Uh, Miss Jiang..."

"Since you know he was driving under the influence, then—is it really that hard to write about a male driver causing a disturbance while drunk, assaulting someone, and refusing to pay compensation? Hmm? If you can't even write that, I guess you've been working for nothing?"

Jiang Chu asked, word by word.

"And putting everything else aside, Sun Hong is a college student, and so am I. We're only a year apart. How come I'm a woman, but he's a boy? The idea that anyone who's a woman is a woman implies maturity, cunning, and the need to take responsibility. The idea that anyone who's not old is a boy implies naivety, immaturity, and deserving of pity. Age standards are like rubber bands in your hands, pulled wherever you want. What, does your editorial department assign titles based on chromosome-based vocabulary databases?"