Chapter 3: Collecting Some Interest First

The media’s speed was still remarkably fast.

It must be said that although the era of mobile internet explosion had not yet arrived, the speed of information dissemination on the internet was still not to be underestimated.

Just recently, the press conference had ended.

On Weibo, topics about Chen Mo and the “Backstabbers’ Sect” suddenly exploded!

#BackstabbersSect (exploded), instantly landing third on the trending list.

#LookUpIfYouDon’tBelieve, Who Does Heaven Spare? (trending)

#ChenMoRespondsToAssaultIncident (trending)

These three topics stormed the trending charts, shooting straight into the top ten at lightning speed.

Especially the “Backstabbers’ Sect” and the sarcastic couplet Chen Mo quoted at the press conference, which directly ignited the discussion.

Just as fiercely as netizens had previously condemned Chen Mo, this time they were equally forceful in mocking the “Backstabbers’ Sect.”

Of course, this was also because the whole incident had already fermented to the point where, while not quite universally known, it was widely recognized.

Then, with a twist in the story and the truth revealed—Chen Mo transformed from aggressor to victim—news media loved such reversals and naturally spared no effort in pushing the story.

Moreover, since names were openly called out, the media had no legal concerns in their reporting, fueling this frenzy of public opinion.

Still, smiles did not disappear; they simply shifted from one face to another.

Those named by Chen Mo, such as Fang Xiaoxiao and Du Chun, were left utterly unable to smile.

Outside the “Bulletstorm” film crew set, which was already swarmed by paparazzi and entertainment reporters waiting for news about the Chen Mo and Fang Xiaoxiao incident, once they received the update, they completely blocked the set.

Fang Xiaoxiao was so frightened upon hearing the news that she dared not go outside.

Du Chun was immediately cornered by reporters the moment he stepped out:

“Du Chun, now that the truth of Chen Mo’s assault incident is clear, will you consider apologizing?”

“Chen Mo directly accused you of stabbing your brothers in the back; what do you have to say?”

“Du Chun, you said you would speak only after a thorough investigation—did you really investigate?”

“You defend Fang Xiaoxiao so fiercely; do you have feelings for her?”

Du Chun was completely stunned.

“I’m not close to him; who told you we’re brothers?” he said just as his assistant hurriedly pulled him away, fearing he might reveal more.

But that one statement alone was enough for the reporters—it was destined to become another trending topic!

For a time, the “Backstabbers’ Sect” incident exploded online, even more fiercely than the previous Chen Mo assault controversy. After all, that was mostly just about Chen Mo and Fang Xiaoxiao, with others only taking sides.

But this time, Chen Mo named so many people directly and even coined a highly viral term: “Backstabbers’ Sect”!

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And so many celebrities were involved, all personally and explicitly named in the responses.

Consequently, the pressure fell squarely on the shoulders of the “Backstabbers’ Sect” followers.

Of course, everyone knew Chen Mo was finished—although public opinion seemed to favor him for now, his acting career was effectively over.

At Star Entertainment, the artist supervisors and executives were bombarded with calls.

Usually, in such cases, the ideal outcome would be that mediators intervened, leading to a grand reconciliation with mutual apologies to settle the matter.

But Chen Mo refused to play by the usual rules and went all out.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ming’s phone also blew up. At first, he meekly apologized and tried to explain, but gradually he numbed to it all.

Eventually, he simply turned off his phone, seemingly adopting a “damned if I do” attitude.

It was clear who was ruined—Chen Mo—and Zhao Ming wasn’t faring any better.

“Are you satisfied now?” Zhao Ming asked Chen Mo helplessly.

“This is just the beginning. I sacrificed my acting career for this. They’ll just lightly delete a Weibo post, pretend nothing happened for a while, then carry on with the show. Nothing’s ever that easy,” Chen Mo replied indifferently.

“What else do you want to do?” Zhao Ming stared at this unfamiliar version of Chen Mo.

“The internet isn’t above the law. As a law-abiding citizen, I must know how to use legal means to protect my rights,” Chen Mo said.

“That… probably won’t help much,” Zhao Ming said. As an entertainment agent, he wasn’t versed in law, but he had seen too many showbiz scandals to be optimistic.

In fact, Chen Mo wasn’t entirely sure either. In his previous life, judicial interpretations making online defamation a crime were introduced rather late.

He didn’t know if this world had started enforcing such laws yet.

Even if it hadn’t, while it might not convict Fang Xiaoxiao and the others, filing a lawsuit would still be somewhat useful.

But he would have to consult a professional for that.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Chen Mo and Zhao Ming exchanged a puzzled glance—who would come at this hour?

Chen Mo went to the door, peeked through the peephole, and then opened it directly.

“Why are you here?” Chen Mo asked, surprised to see the person standing there.

“I’m sorry!” The girl at the door immediately apologized.

This left Chen Mo stunned.

“No, what are you apologizing for? What’s going on?” Chen Mo was genuinely at a loss—it was such a random apology.

“We’re friends, right?” The girl looked up with big, clear eyes, a touch of innocent foolishness shining through, and asked Chen Mo earnestly.

“Of course!” Chen Mo nodded.

“Friends should share each other’s hardships, but I failed to do that. I’m sorry!” The girl apologized firmly again.

Chen Mo looked at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

How to put it?

This was exactly her style.

“Alright, I accept your apology. Come in,” Chen Mo said, stepping aside to let her in.

The girl let her guard down completely and without a word passed by him into the room.

Chen Mo shook his head helplessly.

Seeing the girl enter, Zhao Ming looked at Chen Mo in confusion.

Chen Mo said nothing but invited the girl to sit and introduced her:

“This is my agent, Zhao Ming.”

“And this is my friend, Jing Tian!”

“Hello!”

“Hello!”

“You weren’t abroad on vacation? When did you come back?” After the greetings, Chen Mo asked Jing Tian.

“Just returned. Oh, by the way, this is for you!” Jing Tian said, pulling a document from her Chanel bag and placing it in front of Chen Mo.

“What’s this?” Chen Mo asked, puzzled.

“You’ll know once you look,” Jing Tian didn’t answer but looked at Chen Mo expectantly.

Chen Mo opened the file and took out a thick stack of papers—it was a script!

As he flipped through it, his expression grew increasingly strange, occasionally glancing up at this adorably clueless socialite standing before him.

How to say it?

He was quite familiar with this script—he had even studied it carefully in his previous life. It was said to be a big-budget production with a star-studded cast, certainly nothing wrong with that—except for one problem...

The reason he had studied this script was out of sheer curiosity: just how badly would a film have to be to be listed among the top ten worst Mandarin films ever made?