Once the surveillance footage from Silver Lake Hotel leaked, the post that had been simmering on a single platform exploded across the internet.
The names “Fu Yanzong and Su Tang” jammed together, paired with that blurry video and photos, rocketed straight to the top of the hot search rankings.
“Hidden Face’s male lead and second lead confirmed? Su Tang and Fu Yanzong entering a room together—any secret affair brewing?”
…
Endless @mentions, comments, and DMs flooded Fu Yanzong’s account. Lounging on the sofa with a script in hand, Fu Yanzong glanced at his constantly lighting-up phone screen. He smiled slowly and drawled lazily, “Looks like the one even more annoying than the ex-assistant is the ex-assistant’s childhood sweetheart.”
The Self-Rescue System blinked its eyes in his mind and asked in confusion, “Who? Host, are you talking about Su Tang?”
Fu Yanzong responded casually. He tapped into the trending topic and forwarded a Weibo post to his assistant Xiao Sun.
“The guy holding Su Tang isn’t Fu Yanzong at all, okay? When has my bro ever worn a grade-school hoodie, shrunk ten centimeters overnight, and lost his jawline? It’s obviously the assistant or someone else. Could be a wrong room or a misunderstanding. Can we wait for the man himself to clear it up?”
Six dots popped up almost immediately from the other side of the chat.
Sun: “Boss, you’re supposed to remind me to get to work, not mock me, right?”
acqua: “To remind you not to wear a grade-school hoodie next time.”
Of course, the comments under that Weibo were a battlefield where Fu Yanzong’s fans and Su Tang’s fans were duking it out.
Su Tang’s fans declared righteously, “Even if it wasn’t Fu Yanzong himself, helping him into the room has to be real, right? Our Tang Tang was just kindly checking on a senior’s welcome party and got ogled—or worse, taken advantage of. Can’t even imagine what Fu Yanzong did that night when he saw our sleepy-eyed Tang Tang with his little mouth opening and closing—lost control and…”
“No wonder our Tang Tang hasn’t shown his face these past few days. Fu Yanzong has to apologize and take responsibility! We’re not letting a son-in-law like that through the door!! We’ll guard Tang Tang’s happiness ourselves!”
Fu Yanzong’s fans felt a profound sense of futility, like trying to reason with aliens. All they could do was post screenshots from Su Tang’s debut variety show appearance—sleepy-eyed, big teeth bared, mouth gaping like a devilfish gasping for air—and insist no one, especially not Fu Yanzong, would have impure thoughts about that.
Xiao Sun quietly liked the comment. After all, that’s exactly how Su Tang had “tormented” him that night.
Then he logged into his assistant Weibo account and gave a detailed rundown of how Fu Yanzong had asked him out of the goodness of his heart to escort Su Tang back to his room—and how he’d even booked an extra room just in case.
The Self-Rescue System whispered to Fu Yanzong, “Host, according to the plot, Song Linyu should step in here to suppress the buzz. Then Su Tang’s fans shift focus and start shipping him with the mysterious bigshot behind him… In the end, the spotlight moves off you, and you don’t even need to say anything.”
“I’m not asking you to swallow your pride,” the Self-Rescue System said, drooping dispiritedly. “I’m worried Su Tang might pull something like he did that night. Sorry, we didn’t investigate thoroughly. In the original text, Su Tang wasn’t supposed to have that kind of high-dimensional cheat.”
“No, this actually makes more sense. Otherwise, I can’t imagine how Su Tang could ‘stir up the entertainment world’ with that brain of his.”
Fu Yanzong paused, then said to the Self-Rescue System, “Don’t worry. Just like you’re not much use, whatever cheat—or system—Su Tang has, it can’t be all-knowing or all-powerful.”
“Really?”
The Self-Rescue System’s digital eyes sparkled brightly. It selectively ignored the jab about its uselessness and gazed at Fu Yanzong with adoring eyes.
No wonder the senior systems back at the bureau always emphasized how important a reliable host was. Seeing it firsthand proved the point!
The system then humbly asked for more wisdom. “Host, how did you figure that out?”
Fu Yanzong: …Isn’t it obvious everywhere?
He glanced at the Self-Rescue System’s fawning doe eyes and sighed. “This world’s plot isn’t identical to that book anymore, right? If Song Linyu were some domineering CEO, brooding and sexually repressed protagonist top, would he have been so eager to give me that night—”
“Give you what?”
The Self-Rescue System leaned in eagerly.
Fu Yanzong calmly swallowed his words, smiled, and said, “No need for minors to know.”
“The Spacetime Administration Bureau doesn’t hire child labor!”
“Got it. Anyway, just test him with a plot deviation that’s harmless to us but serious for Su Tang.” Fu Yanzong bowed his head and reposted Xiao Sun’s clarification Weibo, saying flatly, “When he can’t afford the cost of altering the plot anymore, send him to his death.”
Fu Yanzong said it breezily, like a harmless joke, but the Self-Rescue System somehow sensed he meant it.
So it changed the subject. “Host, the original text says this was purely leaked by hotel staff. Su Tang wasn’t supposed to get tangled up with you at this point but ends up shipped with you across the net anyway. Even if we clarify, it doesn’t seem like a major plot deviation, right?”
“Where’d the staff come from?” Fu Yanzong chuckled. “Song Linyu definitely wiped all the hotel surveillance that night. The way he operates, he’d only keep backups for himself and never let them leak.”
“The only one who could release this footage is Su Tang himself—with his system.”
“So that’s it. Su Tang actually wants to get involved with you, Host…?”
The Self-Rescue System looked at Su Tang’s fans still stubbornly arguing post-clarification and gained a whole new appreciation for what “reluctant” really meant.
Su Tang’s fans scoffed. This Weibo was just crisis PR to fool people. Even with an extra room and keycard records, so what? Can you guarantee Fu Yanzong stayed in his room all night? That he didn’t sneak a keycard from the assistant and barge into our Tang Tang’s room to have his way?!
The top comment under it read: “Spreading rumors that the actual person got taken advantage of—is this some newfangled way to show love? First time seeing rivals ride the hype this disgustingly. Brother Fu, time to step on an effigy of these haters.”
Su Tang’s fans weren’t buying it. They screenshot the timestamp of Fu Yanzong’s first Weibo post back in the country, added it up, multiplied, divided, took the square root, ran a few more calculations, and finally arrived at Su Tang’s birthday.
They broadcast it far and wide: “Told you Fu Yanzong has a secret crush on our Tang Tang!”
Now even passersby were chiming in sharply: China’s mathematicians weren’t in classrooms—they were in Su Tang’s super topic.
But that didn’t stop a horde of CP fans from springing up, shipping Fu-Su like mad.
Just that these CP stans weren’t exactly balanced in their fanning.
Luckily, Fu Yanzong’s fans had superhuman combat power. After the man himself quietly liked that “step on an effigy” comment, his fans charged in with “Touch my son and you’re guilty of human trafficking” fury, slaughtering Su Tang’s fans and the fake CP crew alike.
Su Tang’s feed and super topic were a total dumpster fire now. Fans cursed Fu Yanzong for being ungrateful while desperately trying to brainwash others, but hardly any normal people were biting.
“System!” Su Tang hurled the pillow from his lap to the floor and raged, “Wasn’t it supposed to be everyone shipping our CP? Why is it all my ugly pics and nicknames?!”
“And what’s with Fu Yanzong liking that comment? He slept with me and still calls me the villain?! How dare he throw shade at me!”
Su Tang collapsed, flinging his phone aside. He clutched his bird’s-nest hair, fuming harder by the second, disgust building on disgust.
The Heartthrob System stayed silent for a moment before soothing him as best it could. “It’s fine. At this stage, you’re the innocent victim who doesn’t even like Fu Yanzong. With Song Linyu in the picture, you’re set up as playful rivals.”
“You two don’t start getting ambiguous until late in filming Hidden Face. No rush. Right now, what everyone’s shipping is Song Linyu squashing your hot search and the mysterious bigshot getting jealous.”
The Heartthrob System spun the tale patiently, leaving Su Tang dazed and nodding along. He stared at the photos and comments, eyes bloodshot with rage, but had no counter. He could only follow the system’s lead.
Gritting his teeth, Su Tang snatched his phone back, switched to Song Linyu’s chat, and hammered out a string of pitiful texts.
“Linyu-ge… Did you see the hot search? I really have nothing to do with Fu Yanzong. I don’t want his fans talking about me like that… or getting cyberbullied by him…”
“Do you believe me?”
“Can you help me? I don’t want to be misunderstood anymore.”
Halfway through typing, he forced out some choked sobs into two long voice messages, hoping to tug at Song Linyu’s heartstrings.
But the chat stayed silent for a long time.
In Dongyu’s conference room, a slender, bony hand picked up the phone buzzing nonstop with messages. Song Linyu flipped it over for a cool glance, then expertly dragged Su Tang’s chat into do-not-disturb.
The secretary paused and asked softly, “President Song, should we wait another fifteen minutes for you?”
“No need. He’s not important.”
Song Linyu signaled for the briefing to continue. In the meantime, he skimmed the screenshot Su Tang had sent.
It was the hot comment Fu Yanzong had liked. But compared to that, the Fu-Su CP trending topic stood out even more—ugly as sin.
Song Linyu tightened his grip on his phone without a flicker of expression, the tender flesh of his palm still bearing red marks. Fresh pain bloomed there, sharp enough to jolt him fully awake.
He ground his teeth slowly. If Fu Yanzong disliked Su Tang too, then clearing things up shouldn’t make him hate Song Linyu any more, right?
Would it?
But he said he didn’t want to think about me.
Between Su Tang and me, who does he hate more?
Su Tang, definitely Su Tang.
So annoying.
Why does Su Tang keep clinging to him?
Why am I even comparing myself to Su Tang? Does that guy deserve to be in the same league as me?
So annoying. So annoying. So annoying.
But I promised to obey him. I can’t lie anymore.
A tangle of chaotic thoughts swirled through Song Linyu’s mind. He swiped out of Su Tang’s chat window and opened his photo gallery. The moment he saw the edited video, he could hold back no longer and hit send.
His secretary startled at the abrupt movement, clutching her stack of files as she asked softly, “Was there a problem with that just now…?”
“No.” Song Linyu massaged his brow and swallowed against the dryness in his throat. In a voice of perfect calm, he said, “I heard it. Just read the section after the first quarter.”
“Understood.”
As the secretary continued her soft-spoken report, the unclosed video began to play on its own. In the surveillance footage—already deleted from the records—Fu Yanzong stood before Song Linyu’s door. He gazed downward, murmuring something in a low voice.
His expression remained perfectly normal as he spoke. But soon enough, a hand pressed lightly against his waist.
The sleeve was rolled up to the forearm, the damp fabric clinging to reveal the contours of toned muscle. It wrapped snugly around Fu Yanzong’s waist, drawing him inside.
The indistinct figure then vanished from view beside the door. The half-open door swung shut with a soft click. The corridor lay empty after that—no one appeared until the pale light of dawn the next morning.
…
Ten minutes later, Xinyu News sprang into action at Song Linyu’s command. They scrubbed every trace of the Fu Yanzong-Su Tang hot search from every platform. The only remnant was Fu Yanzong’s own questionable clarification post on Weibo.
At the same time, Silver Lake Hotel’s official Weibo account released its own statement—and attached the video as proof.
