If the news of Jian Feiyang and Fan Qing changing companies was known within the industry,
Then Nie Luo’s announcement to terminate his contract quickly became common knowledge online.
Nie Luo’s leaving?
The moment the news broke, it hit the industry like a magnitude-ten earthquake.
Especially for fans who had felt Nie Luo was unusually quiet this year—they sprang up like bamboo shoots after the rain.
“I’m honestly shocked. I thought Nie Ge had been working quietly this year, maybe preparing a new album or filming… I thought he was just focusing on work. But it turns out his resources were taken by his manager for someone else???”
“My God, he finally spoke up! I’ll be honest, that variety show ‘Tomorrow’—Nie Ge was supposed to go. I get so angry just thinking about it. Why is Jing Yuan popular? His fans only talk about how hardworking or lucky he is. Lucky? The show almost ended up being handed to Jing Yuan by the manager! I’ve never seen anything so disgusting. Nie Ge is on a whole different level. Why did the manager and company hand his resources to Jing Yuan, a rookie? He deserves better!”
“Just got up and saw this on Weibo… what the hell? Jing Yuan? Who does he think he is? Manager and company, have you lost your minds? Nie Ge’s resources were his, why give them to Jing Yuan? Does Jing Yuan even have works, awards, anything? I checked his info left and right—nothing! Even if Nie Ge leaves, the company needs to explain themselves properly!”
“????? I thought Nie Ge’s quietness meant he was preparing a new song or concert. Now I hear it’s because Jing Yuan stole his resources? My god? Is the manager stupid? What’s the company thinking? Why give Nie Ge’s resources to Jing Yuan? Is Jing Yuan colluding with some high-up?”
The fans were furious—their outrage nearly rocked the whole industry.
But remarkably, no one stepped in to smooth things over. Not a single person came out to defend Jing Yuan or speak for him.
Why not?
Because Nie Luo himself had already spoken.
And he’d also contacted two internationally renowned figures to publicly back him.
Their support was simple and unambiguous.
“Not everyone can grace the cover of our magazine, so we had to refuse certain unreasonable requests. In addition, we wish Mr. Nie the very best in his future endeavors.”
The other statement came from a perfume house, famous both domestically and internationally, often called the aristocracy of fragrances. Every limited-edition release becomes highly sought after and even gains collector’s value.
The brand openly posted a recording of their conversation with Nie Luo’s agent and stated publicly:
“…We approached this collaboration with genuine intent to work with Mr. Nie. During negotiations, we realized that the agent was, intentionally or not, trying to replace him with another artist under his management to endorse our products. Our director decided to record the conversation and subsequently reached out directly to Mr. Nie. We also informed the agent that our brand is committed to producing the finest and most carefully crafted perfumes, and we only seek a dedicated and career-focused spokesperson.”
The final sentence, once published, instantly went viral among Nie Luo’s fans.
#DedicatedAndCareerFocusedSpokesperson#
#NieLuoPerfumeEndorser#
#IsJingYuanFit#
If this were a war, it was a battle without gunpowder.
From the start, Nie Luo had claimed the high ground by speaking out.
Jing Yuan’s fans, even if they wanted to argue, had nothing to say.
All they could do was rely on the agent and the company. If they could prove that the resources truly belonged to Jing Yuan, then they’d have a case.
But the truth was—they couldn’t even protect themselves.
After Nie Luo announced his departure, the company’s previously secured resources took a sharp nosedive.
Many confirmed endorsements and other deals hesitated, saying the matter had gotten too public, and negotiations were temporarily frozen.
Some brands and resource contacts even severed communication entirely; those still in touch either spoke vaguely or started undercutting offers and raising demands.
Shareholding stakeholders panicked at the situation.
They began questioning and doubting the management. Some were even contacting others to sell their shares—without Nie Luo, the company would inevitably suffer a serious blow.
At the center of it all, the agent faced the storm head-on.
The agent and Jing Yuan had been fairly covert in siphoning Nie Luo’s resources.
They had maintained a good relationship with Mu, one of the company’s executives, and for each resource successfully redirected, they returned a tenth as a kickback to Mu.
This was why they had managed to keep the operation under wraps for so long.
But after Nie Luo exposed it on Weibo, the matter quickly reached the company.
Almost everyone knew.
When Jing Yuan realized this, he finally understood he had seriously underestimated Nie Luo.
When did Nie Luo discover their manipulation?
And how did he get the evidence?
Before he could think further, the agent slammed the door open.
“…Mu is finished. Did you hear?”
Jing Yuan looked up sharply.
“What?”
Irritated, the agent lit a cigarette. The flickering smoke mirrored his mood.
“I said, Mu is finished.”
His voice suddenly boomed. “He’s doomed! Did you hear me?!”
Jing Yuan inhaled sharply, then tried to calm himself.
“He admitted it?”
The agent took a long drag.
“No, but does that matter? Nie Luo somehow got the evidence. The shareholders are already in uproar, discussing what to do about Mu.”
Jing Yuan drew a cold breath.
“…What about us?”
“What about us?”
The agent finished the cigarette, grabbed another, and lit it.
Jing Yuan frowned, stepping back, tension rising.
“Of course I mean what the company plans to do about us. Did you pitch my suggestion to them?”
Since Nie Luo wanted to leave, the company had two options: either give him generous resources and a favorable contract to retain him, or simply collect the breach-of-contract fee.
Right now, the first option was almost impossible.
So Jing Yuan had asked the agent to propose an idea to the executives.
Since Nie Luo leaving was already a fact, and he was now the most popular in the company,
Why not flip the narrative, elevate him even further?
Any publicity—good or bad—is still publicity.
Once they rehabilitate his image, the company would gain a new pillar of strength.
Just mentioning it made the agent grin wickedly.
White smoke drifted from between his yellowed teeth, like a beast devouring everything in its path.
“I told them. How could I not? The company said the idea wasn’t impossible, but…”
He suddenly took a few steps toward Jing Yuan, eyes cold as if seeing him for the first time.
“To protect you, I have to take the fall. Jing Yuan, did you expect them to say that when you made the suggestion?”
Jing Yuan’s scalp tingled, and he instinctively took a step back.
Time seemed to freeze.
The room fell silent. After a moment, Jing Yuan finally found his voice.
“…I thought of it.”
“Ho—!”
The agent lit another cigarette, letting out a sound somewhere between a trapped animal’s cry and laughter.
The smoke quickly enveloped his face, leaving only his hoarse voice audible.
“I’ve supported you so wholeheartedly, and in the end, you just want to use me as your final stepping stone?”
His emotions felt off.
Suddenly, his mind sharpened into an almost icy clarity. Jing Yuan’s eyes darted toward the figure in the smoke, his tone shifting rapidly to one of earnest sincerity.
“I… I have no other way, brother. Have you ever thought that if we both fall together, everything we’ve worked for would be gone? But if you bear it for me, everything we’ve built remains, and I can rise again. What belongs to you—I will personally deliver to your hands.”
His words were sincere, his gaze full of conviction aimed at the agent.
Yet sweat poured down his back in dense sheets.
He was lying.
He couldn’t do it.
If he stayed entangled with the agent, someone would find the leverage.
So, he could only bury the agent in the mud until he couldn’t rise, couldn’t speak.
Silence returned to the room, broken only by breathing and the gentle exhalation of smoke.
Cold sweat continued to stream down Jing Yuan’s back, but his expression remained genuinely intense—so intense that in this moment, it could surpass any actor’s performance.
The agent slowly turned his head through the smoke.
Jing Yuan pushed his expression to its absolute limit, expecting to see something favorable.
“You know what?”
The agent’s face emerged from the fog—not the reaction Jing Yuan had hoped for.
“What I admire most about you,” the agent said, voice low and cutting, “is your acting when you lie with your eyes wide open. Every time, I think—if you applied this to acting, maybe you could go even further than Nie Luo.”
Goosebumps prickled Jing Yuan’s skin.
He locked eyes with the agent, whose eyes were now bloodshot.
Something was wrong.
Everything felt wrong.
Instinctively, before the agent could pounce, Jing Yuan spun around and fled.
“Jing Yuan—!”
The agent let out a last, feral roar from deep in his chest.
“I’ll die, but I’ll take you with me—!”
No! He was the protagonist. He was the true main character!
He knew the story, he still had people to use—there was no way he’d fall here!
In an instant, Jing Yuan’s speed maxed out. He burst out the door, searching for any chance to survive.
The figure behind him roared, chasing relentlessly. Jing Yuan pushed past the onlookers, face pale, eyes scanning desperately for salvation.
He wouldn’t lose. He only needed one chance, one foothold to rise again.
Turning a corner, Jing Yuan skidded sharply—only to collide with someone and tumble to the ground.
“Ugh! Damn! Who doesn’t watch where they’re going… Jing Yuan?”
A familiar voice exploded in his ears.
He looked up, and instead of Hu Yelin scolding him, he saw Zhuo Yuan standing beside Hu Yelin, watching him with keen amusement.
It was him?
Here?
In that instant, Jing Yuan saw a final lifeline in Zhuo Yuan’s interested gaze.
His expression shifted in a flash. He dragged his injured leg forward slowly, crawling one step at a time.
“Mr. Zhuo… do you still want me?”