Qin Sizheng slept soundly through the night, waking at eight in the morning.
He hurried downstairs. Lu Xianqing was eating breakfast, with He Xing beside him, scolding nonstop: “How did your face get bruised again? I only took a day off and you… Qin Sizheng?”
Lu Xianqing looked up. “Awake?”
“…Fourth Brother, He Xing,” Qin Sizheng greeted awkwardly. He had planned to leave early, using An Ning to sneak him out before anyone arrived—but he overslept.
Seeing him in Lu Xianqing’s clothes, He Xing was nearly speechless. She pointed at him, then at Lu Xianqing, flabbergasted, then looked at An Ning, who shook her head. “I don’t know! He kicked me out yesterday, said he was going to the boss… didn’t go.”
He Xing took a deep breath.
Lu Xianqing glanced at her. She forced herself to hold it in, teeth almost grinding. “Fourth Brother, you really are something.” She smiled at Qin Sizheng. “Up now? Slept well?”
Qin Sizheng’s scalp tingled from her smile. “I-it was okay.”
In her mind, He Xing drew a “忍” (endure) character frantically.
Lu Xianqing said, “Go wash up and come eat. I had An Ning dry your clothes. After breakfast, she’ll take you home.”
Qin Sizheng nodded and hurried to the bathroom to change.
He Xing’s smile vanished in an instant. “Those bruises on your face… he did that? Be honest with me—what exactly happened last night? I need to be mentally prepared… figure out how many years he’d get, hire a good lawyer.”
Lu Xianqing said, “Nothing much.”
“Nothing much? He beat you like that, and you say nothing? If you tell me you—uh—you forced him, I’d believe you! Look at your face… my goodness.” He Xing lowered her voice, afraid Qin Sizheng would overhear. “How did you even get him back here?”
“It was my birthday,” Lu Xianqing said.
“…? Your birthday isn’t in February?”
“Yesterday was my birthday,” he said.
“…!” He Xing was dumbfounded at his shamelessness. “You don’t think Qin Sizheng would just Google it, do you? If he’s ever gone to school and can use any input method, type three characters into the search bar and you’re done for, do you know that?”
Lu Xianqing remained expressionless. “You’re right. My manager thought I was too old and forcibly made my birthday a year younger. I couldn’t resist the unscrupulous company. He’d probably feel more protective of me and blame you instead. Don’t you think?”
“I f***ing…” He Xing ground her teeth. “Really, Fourth Brother, in my past life I owe you big time. I must have been the Golden Lotus who drugged you.”
Lu Xianqing glanced at her. “Speaking of whom? With my face and appearance, who am I insulting? At the very least, unboxing should be like a Longyang Jun—relying on looks.”
He Xing forced a smile. “I—I’m the Golden Lotus. I drugged myself, okay?”
She paused, then looked toward the bathroom, whispering, “I need to ask you—are you sure you didn’t actually do anything to him? Don’t mess with me. If you like him, pursue him properly. Once you’re together, you can do anything openly. If he likes you, that’s just playful. If he doesn’t, it’s kidnapping and perversion, you understand? Then when you appear on a legal show, they won’t hand you an Actor of the Year award. Make sure you get that!”
Lu Xianqing said, “He Xing, I have a bold idea.”
He Xing froze. “No. You don’t!”
Tilting his head, he said, “I want to terminate my contract with Ming Fei.”
He Xing didn’t catch his meaning. “Terminate for what? You’re still under contract, but the company leaves everything to you—you see all your earnings, no one forces you to take unwanted jobs. You can do whatever you want. Did the boss offend you or something?”
The bathroom door clicked. Qin Sizheng came out, a little self-conscious, and greeted everyone again.
Lu Xianqing gave He Xing a glance, then waved at Qin Sizheng. “Come eat.”
Breakfast had been brought by An Ning—mostly Western-style, milk and bread. Qin Sizheng obediently ate beside them. He Xing’s heavy breathing was especially noticeable, clearly struggling to remain calm.
“Miss He Xing, if you have something to say, just say it. I hit Fourth Brother, I admit it,” Qin Sizheng said, setting down his bread and sincerely taking responsibility.
He Xing knew Lu Xianqing had provoked him first. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “It’s fine. Eat first, I’ll have An Ning take you home afterward.”
Qin Sizheng sensed she had something to say, probably because Lu Xianqing was there and she couldn’t scold him. He quietly added, “I’ll cover Fourth Brother’s medical expenses, or any losses from missing work.”
He Xing was momentarily stunned. Already feeling guilty, his composure improved even more—this kid really looked like he’d done something wrong.
She glanced at the instigator, who only gave a small smirk, and she realized: he’s still lying.
“It’s nothing intentional. Just be careful next time. You know Fourth Brother’s face is like a fan treasure—getting hurt every few days isn’t good,” she said, speaking openly to Qin Sizheng but actually hinting at Lu Xianqing, shooting him a sharp look.
Qin Sizheng didn’t notice, only nodding apologetically.
He Xing looked at the boy’s clean, bright face. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling window, falling across his hands. His knuckles almost glowed—a very beautiful pair of hands. It was no wonder Lu Xianqing, a hardcore hand fetishist, was obsessed.
Still, she didn’t believe that taking someone home would result in nothing happening. She stared at those hands for a long time, then his face. Her ears turned slightly red, probably shy—completely different from the rumored persona.
She had never interacted directly with Qin Sizheng, but had seen all those inflammatory remarks online, which made her despise him from the bottom of her heart. Yet seeing him now, it didn’t feel like those words came from him.
Eyes don’t lie. She looked back at Lu Xianqing and mentally added: oh, exceptions exist.
Still, she doubted Qin Sizheng had acting skills. If he did, he wouldn’t have been mocked so badly.
After breakfast, An Ning escorted Qin Sizheng home. Lu Xianqing went upstairs to sleep.
He Xing asked, puzzled, “How can you sleep during the day? Were you sneaking around last night? Wait… you didn’t—”
“What are you thinking?” Lu Xianqing snorted. “Do you think I’m that kind of person?”
She nodded. “You are.”
“….” He Xianqing sat back down, tilting his head at her. “If I terminate my contract with Ming Fei, do you think he’ll come kneeling, begging at my door not to?”
Qin Sizheng returned home and first sent Lu Xianqing a WeChat message, letting him know he had arrived safely.
He hadn’t added him before, but when leaving, Lu Xianqing had suddenly said, “Remember to report back once you’re home.” Qin Sizheng suddenly had an idea—he could transfer the medical expenses to him via WeChat. That way, he could receive it without meeting in person.
He calculated the amount in his mind and sent three thousand—covering medical fees, emotional distress, and missed work. That should be enough… right? Would he think it’s too little?
As he hesitated, a reply quickly came: “Oh, hush money?”
Qin Sizheng quickly replied: “That’s not what I meant. Please just accept it—as an apology from me.”
Lu Xianqing: “So you give me the money and next time you keep hitting me? You think my face is worth only three thousand to you?”
He could almost picture the other person raising an eyebrow and smirking. As he was thinking about how to respond, Xu Zhi’s call came through. Flustered, Qin Sizheng answered, assuming Xu Zhi knew he had “stayed out all night,” and quickly said, “I’m home!”
“Come to the office immediately! I’ve already informed Jiang Xi—he’s on his way,” Xu Zhi’s voice sounded frantic, like a fire had landed on his backside.
Qin Sizheng had no idea what was going on, but the doorbell rang right afterward. Jiang Xi stood at the door, pale and looking like the sky had collapsed directly onto his head—utterly unlucky.
“What happened?”
Jiang Xi nearly fell to his knees, eyes red, on the verge of tears: “I’m sorry, Qin Ge, it’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have made you take that photo. Go ahead, hit me if you want.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Xu Ge is still at the office,” Jiang Xi said as they got into the car. Once Qin Sizheng fastened his seatbelt and they were on the road, he continued: “The photo I had you take—grabbing the bedsheet—someone released it. Now a bunch of marketing accounts are spreading it, calling you a soft SQ blogger, even tagging the anti-porn authorities, saying it’s indecent and you’re a negative example for artists… they want you banned!”
Qin Sizheng was stunned.
What did that even mean?
They quickly arrived at the company. Xu Zhi was reporting the situation to the executives while the PR team scrambled to handle it. The issue had escalated fast, with marketing accounts spreading a uniform, organized narrative—it was clearly deliberate manipulation.
Before entering the meeting room, Qin Sizheng ran into Si Qianqiu leaving the training room. He was wearing a white athletic T-shirt, wiping sweat with a towel, and when he saw Qin Sizheng, he smirked: “Going viral again, senior brother?”
Si Qianqiu had always hated the title “Qin Sizheng Stand-In,” so he never recognized the senior brother title. His words were dripping with mockery.
Jiang Xi immediately stepped in front of Qin Sizheng: “Qin Ge, you’ve got important things—don’t—”
“Step aside.” Si Qianqiu shoved Jiang Xi aside, standing in front of Qin Sizheng and staring into his eyes, a low laugh on his lips: “Lucky you posted it first. I was gonna take one for the fans as a bonus, but you beat me to it. Thanks for saving me, senior brother. Hahaha.”
“I’m waiting for you to leave the entertainment industry.”
Qin Sizheng hadn’t planned to speak, but Si Qianqiu’s tone was so infuriating that he couldn’t help but smile and raise his hand. Si Qianqiu immediately took two steps back: “Hey! Don’t hit me! This is the office—I warn you, there are cameras!”
Qin Sizheng lowered his hand and said lightly: “I won’t leave the entertainment industry before you. You will always be my stand-in.” With that, he walked around him into the office.
Si Qianqiu, fuming, threw his towel to the floor: “Let’s see how long your arrogance lasts. You don’t even know what’s coming for you. Just wait until you slink out of the industry in shame!”
Inside the office, Xu Zhi was on the phone, cold sweat dripping and barely bothering to wipe it.
Meanwhile, Weibo was in chaos—black fans, the Xiao Qinxian fan base, and casual onlookers all tangled in the mess. The scene spun completely out of control.
Comments flooded in:
- “WTF, Qin Sizheng actually took a photo like this? Shocked! Did he lose his shame? I used to like him on the variety show.”
- “He’s fearless. Even influencers don’t dare do this. Ababa…”
- “Just asking, is Qin Sizheng an SQ blogger? That bedsheet grip is intense! Anyone have the clip?”
- “Is he crazy? Shooting this for clicks? Is his agent dead? Doesn’t manage him at all?”
- “Sheng Entertainment, Xu Zhi, take note! Are artists not human? Making him do this? Ridiculous. Pass the knife to the haters!”
- “To the haters: protect my little kite. Don’t like it? Close your phone. What he shoots is his freedom.”
- “It’s just a hand! I like the hand. Open mouth, SQ everywhere—are you the anti-porn bureau director? Go watch kids’ channels instead.”
- “A hand makes it SQ? Big white leg, should we gouge our eyes? Stop exaggerating. Others have done this, didn’t see police everywhere.”
- “A pair of hands? Come on. I wasn’t thinking SQ, just looks nice. Followed a meme. Later it was deleted, right? Chill.”
- “Laughing: SQ blogger Qin Sizheng shoots game promo? Company doesn’t want players? Players forced to face judgmental eyes in-game? Bye.”
- “Replace Qin Sizheng or refund!”
- “Officially picking someone despite backlash must have a reason. Spouting nonsense? Big game company not afraid? You get it? If reasons were given, would the haters apologize?”
- “The bedsheet photo is indisputable. Any reasons? If the company or Qin Sizheng gave one, I’d apologize on the super topics for a month. If not, can he leave the industry? Dare to bet on it?”
Soon, the “Qin Sizheng leaves the industry” topic resurfaced, fans and haters tearing each other apart—demands for exit, demands for apology, everyone outraged, like wild dogs snapping at anyone.
At this point, black fans apologizing was impossible. Nothing could calm the storm unless a deity descended personally. No one could reverse this.
Xu Zhi’s voice was hoarse: “We’re trying to cool things down, minimize damage. Clarifications are needed. I’m coordinating with PR, yes, I understand.”
He hung up, pacing anxiously. “How did this get so out of hand? I thought it was just a photo—so what? Some minor idols perform wet shows, show their waists on variety shows all the time—fans don’t overreact. How can a hand photo trigger this much backlash?”
Qin Sizheng put down his phone, his expression darkening as he lightly clenched his fists—and then loosened them again.
Jiang Xi kept apologizing: “I’m sorry, it was my idea. That bedsheet meme was really popular at the time, and I saw lots of fans in the supertopic saying they wanted to see Qin Ge do it. I just suggested he shoot it. I never thought so much about the consequences. I didn’t do it on purpose, really, I’m sorry.”
Xu Zhi’s brow was tightly furrowed. Slamming the table and banging on the chair wouldn’t calm his agitation. “What good is apologizing now? Can you turn back time and fix this? This is also my fault. I was busy with your junior colleagues and barely glanced at it. I thought the shot looked good, so I let it post. That was my oversight.”
The entertainment industry was like this: some things could be the cherry on top, while others became the stone that drags you under. It was impossible to fully control either outcome.
“Now we have to figure out how to steer public opinion back. Forget about future developments for now—just surviving this is a relief. This isn’t about giving fans a bonus; someone’s trying to blow this up, trying to ruin you,” Xu Zhi said, looking up at Qin Sizheng. “Have you offended anyone recently?”
The first name that came to Qin Sizheng’s mind was Lu Xianqing.
He had just hit Lu Xianqing last night, leaving him bruised and purple. And now there was this news this morning—could it be him?
The thought appeared and disappeared instantly. No, it couldn’t be Lu Xianqing. He was gentle and magnanimous; he wouldn’t hold a grudge against him. Even if he did, he wouldn’t use such a method!
“I don’t know,” Qin Sizheng said.
Xu Zhi took that as: “I have so many enemies I can’t keep track.” He rubbed his face hard, took a long breath, and scolded: “I told you before, you have to be careful with your words. Offending people is one thing, but you never control your mouth. Now you’re already showing the first signs.”
Qin Sizheng remained silent.
Jiang Xi glanced at his face and lowered his head quietly.
Xu Zhi propped his head in his hands and sighed. “Think of a way. If nothing works, just apologize, say you’ll never shoot these kinds of photos again, admit your mistake, and see if it calms the fans down. Give the game company some assurance too—you just got a great opportunity. Losing it would be such a waste. In this industry, sometimes you have to swallow your pride.”
Qin Sizheng said firmly, “I won’t apologize.”
“?” Xu Zhi looked up at him. “Not now? You want to go head-to-head with the haters?”
“Yes.”
Qin Sizheng glanced at Jiang Xi, then at Xu Zhi. Regardless of what Zhou Ruomei had said, or whether it was out of goodwill or provocation, and regardless of who was behind the manipulation, he would face it directly.
At that moment, he finally let go of the unease from arriving in this new world. He fully embraced being “Qin Sizheng,” merging his soul with this body, no longer cautious or hesitant.
He could no longer live in fear, constantly worrying about dying. The original owner was one person, he was another. Since he had transmigrated into this world, standing here was not just to live as a replacement. He was no one’s substitute—he was himself!
He could conquer the boxing world with his own hands; he could conquer the entertainment industry the same way!
No matter who was hiding in the shadows trying to hurt him, he would face them head-on. If someone wanted him out of the industry, he would stay.
The name Lu Xianqing floated in his mind. Watching him handle everything effortlessly made Qin Sizheng clench his fists tightly. He wanted to become someone as formidable as Lu Xianqing—a mountain impossible to scale.