A song from Chengdu revived a closed-down pub.

Whether online or in real life, the insults are overwhelming.

But things didn't stop there.

Everyone also learned that the woman obeyed Su Fan's arrangements because Su Fan promised to give her 20,000 yuan for the surgery.

So, people started to donate.

"I despise that kind of scumbag's behavior. He won't donate the money, but I will!"

"I'll donate too, not for anything else, but because that mother knelt for an entire afternoon. Su Fan isn't human, but we are!"

"I've already donated 1,000 yuan, hoping it will help that child. Su Fan, you owe everyone an explanation!"

"I'm a local, and I've found the hospital where that child is. I'll update you on Weibo as things continue!"

"Stop just criticizing, let's get practical. I'll donate two hundred yuan. It's not much, but every little bit helps!"

……

Donation posts came one after another, with amounts ranging from tens to thousands of yuan.

Some people transferred money directly.

Someone started a crowdfunding link.

Some people went to the scene to give money and gifts.

The comment section, which was initially overwhelmingly criticizing Su Fan, gradually began to include other comments.

The anger remains, but beyond that anger, someone is already taking action.

Su Fan didn't look at the comments section anymore.

At that moment, the boarding announcement came on.

He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and boarded the plane.

Once on the plane, he took one last look at his phone screen.

The number of comments under that Weibo post has exceeded 100,000.

People were all reacting to him: some were criticizing him, some were donating money, some were demanding the truth—all sorts of reactions were being made.

He turned off his phone and put it in his pocket.

Behind him, a girl was on the phone, her voice very low, but Su Fan still overheard a few words: "...Yes, it's that Su Fan who sings. He posted a really offensive Weibo post...I don't know, but I don't think he's that kind of person...Never mind, I'm boarding now."

Su Fan's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't turn around.

Meanwhile, in the conference room of the Sichuan Provincial Bureau of Culture and Tourism, Qi Tongwei was speaking with great enthusiasm.

"The traffic that Su Fan brought us this time is phenomenal." He stood in front of the big screen, tapping the data on the screen with his page turner. "This also provides us, and even the national cultural tourism industry, with a new direction: using music and content to reach young people is much more effective than simply throwing money at GG..."

The people below nodded in agreement.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was relaxed and pleasant.

Just as Qi Tongwei was about to continue speaking, the conference room door was pushed open.

Assistant Cao Zhi stood at the door, his expression not quite right.

Qi Tongwei frowned: "What's wrong? Why are you in such a panic?"

Cao Zhi didn't care anymore. He rushed over to Qi Tongwei and handed him his phone: "Something terrible has happened."

The meeting room fell silent for a second.

Someone joked, "Are tour packages sold out again? We anticipated this and have contingency plans..."

"No, you can see for yourselves," Cao Zhi interrupted him, her voice a little tense.

Qi Tongwei looked down at his phone screen.

The first thing that catches the eye is the headline of the Sichuan Daily: "A thousand miles of kneeling pilgrimage to beg for medicine money, only to find out the singer was joking."

After reading the report and learning the details of the incident, Qi Tongwei was completely stunned.

He quickly took out his phone to contact Su Fan, but the answer was: "The number you dialed is currently switched off. Please try again later..."

Qi Tongwei panicked and dialed Fang Cheng's number again.

As soon as the call connected, Qi Tongwei asked anxiously, "Is Su Fan next to you?"

Fang Cheng was taken aback by his tone: "No, what's wrong?"

Where is he?

He went to Jiangxi Province.

How can I get in touch with him?

Fang Cheng sensed something was wrong: "What's wrong, Director Qi? Why the rush?"

"Something terrible has happened..."

Qi Tongwei briefly explained the situation.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, then Fang Cheng's voice came through: "Director Qi, Xiao Fan wouldn't do such a thing. I'll pay the 20,000 yuan he promised."

"This isn't just about the 20,000 yuan; the impact of this incident is too terrible. It's already trending nationwide, do you know that?"

Fang Cheng paused for a moment: "I've already paid for the child's surgery. Is there any way to minimize the impact?"

Qi Tongwei thought for a moment: "That report was published by the Sichuan Daily. The reporter from yesterday, Lin Fang, is from the Sichuan Daily. You should contact her first, and I'll try to think of a way."

After hanging up the phone, Fang Cheng immediately found Lin Fang's number.

Meanwhile, Lin Fang was in the editor-in-chief's office, arguing fiercely with Peng Wanli.

"Editor-in-Chief Peng, Su Fan wouldn't do such a thing. There must be some hidden story we don't know about."

Peng Wanli sat behind his desk, with several newly printed public opinion reports spread out in front of him.

He raised his eyelids and glanced at Lin Fang, his tone indifferent: "You've only met that kid once, and you already believe him so much? The facts are right in front of you: he posted the Weibo, he took the photos. Unless you can prove that his account was hacked, this is the final verdict."

"However, it would be irresponsible of us to publish this report without obtaining a statement from the person involved."

Peng Wanli leaned back in his chair: "By the time we get in touch with the parties involved, it will be too late. Lin Fang, you're not a child anymore. You should know that for us in the media, timeliness is everything. We need to get the news out as soon as possible. That's the rule."

"Rules?" Lin Fang's voice rose a half-octave. "Have you considered the impact on those involved if our report is biased, or if the facts differ from what we wrote?"

Peng Wanli frowned, his tone hardening: "That's a matter for the next step. What we need to do now is present the current facts to the public as quickly as possible. As for any subsequent reversals, that's a matter for later."

Lin Fang stared at him and said, word by word, "If our reporting causes irreversible damage to the parties involved, who will be responsible?"

"Take responsibility?" Peng Wanli stood up, placing his hands on the desk. "We're just reporting what happened. He posted that Weibo post, that woman knelt down, and he posted another one later. That's a fact, isn't it?"

Lin Fang didn't say anything.

Peng Wanli softened his tone: "Your father taught you, didn't he? The most important thing for an excellent reporter is to get firsthand information and then report it as soon as possible."

Lin Fang said, "My father taught me that as a qualified journalist, one must regard truth as the lifeblood of news, and that reporting must be truthful, accurate, comprehensive, and objective."

Peng Wanli's face darkened: "Nonsense."

"I stick to my principles and will not make unfounded reports."

Peng Wanli looked at her for a few seconds, then sat down again, picked up the pen on the table, and made a mark on the interview schedule next to him.

"You don't need to take responsibility for this. Let Li Yao handle it."

Lin Fang stood there, motionless.

Peng Wanli did not look up again.

Finally, Lin Fang turned and left the office.