Chapter 74 Part 2

Jian Jinzhao and Xi Zhui exchanged a glance before he spoke to Wen Chaosheng as a friend, offering some guidance. “Chaosheng, you have to understand this: all these years, you haven’t just been trapped by Chang Ming. You’ve been trapping yourself.”

“Chang Ming knew perfectly well that his exposé was riddled with holes. He knew that if you ever dared to stand up and call him out, every last lie would come crashing down. So why was he bold enough to act so shamelessly?”

“Because he counted on your soft heart. He exploited your kindness. And he knew all about that overdeveloped sense of responsibility of yours.”

Chang Ming had been dead certain that Wen Chaosheng feared him, that he was under his thumb—willing to sacrifice himself alone just to protect everyone else’s reputations and interests.

Jian Jinzhao laid it out plainly. “That’s exactly what he wanted: to watch you suffer, to see you sink into the muck, and then swoop in like some kind of savior.”

People like Chang Ming were twisted freaks by nature.

They didn’t know the first thing about normal human relationships. All they did was exploit, demand, bully. Deep down, their philosophy was simple: “If I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it.”

Jian Jinzhao couldn’t be bothered to waste his energy hating Chang Ming. Instead, he turned his attention to the friend he truly cared about, offering heartfelt support and reassurance.

“Chaosheng, ‘Rotten Mud’ is the product of hard work from a lot of people, but I get it—this movie is your baby more than anything. Whale Shadow, as the investor, will never strike your name from the director’s credit.”

Without Wen Chaosheng, there would have been no ‘Contour’ and no Xi Zhui as the actor he was today. Without him, there would have been no ‘Flower Moon’ and no Jian Jinzhao’s rise either.

“Chaosheng, never sell yourself short. In a lot of people’s eyes, you’re way more important than you give yourself credit for.”

“It’s not worth playing the fool for trash like that. And if you let us, you’ve never been in this fight against Chang Ming alone.”

“…”

Wen Chaosheng’s eyes reddened once more, brimming with emotion.

Beyond the unwavering presence of his lover and family, he now had the solid backing of true friendship.

Yeah.

Wen Chaosheng had seen through Chang Ming’s malicious scheme long ago. He’d just never found the leverage to push back.

But today was different. His gaze settled on Xi Zhui and Jian Jinzhao at his side, and for the first time, a fierce resolve and courage welled up inside him—

He would step forward himself and rip away Chang Ming’s mask. He would make the bastard pay what he owed!

He would clear his name! He would reclaim that pristine, unblemished career as a director!

…

Six o’clock that evening.

Thanks to Whale Shadow’s targeted spending to pump it up, the hashtag #WenChaoshengLiveClarification rocketed straight to a prime spot on Weibo’s trending list.

Gossip-hungry netizens, burning with righteous fury, clicked into the live stream. Abusive comments flooded the screen in an instant—but Whale Shadow’s ops team had seen it coming. They shut off the chat the second the stream went live, sparing Wen Chaosheng the barrage.

Wen Chaosheng had always worked behind the camera. Standing in front of one now left him ill at ease.

He glanced at the viewer count ticking up in the corner of the screen, and the knot of social anxiety he’d barely untied twisted tight again.

Xi Zhui, positioned just outside the frame, caught the uneasy flicker in his lover’s eyes. He shifted quickly, stepping behind the camera.

—Don’t be scared. I’m right here.

Wen Chaosheng read the silent words on his lips, drew a steadying breath, and began. “Hello, everyone. I’m director Wen Chaosheng.”

“As for Chang Ming’s recent accusations and exposé on Weibo, I’d like to set the record straight from my own perspective.”

With that crisp opener, Wen Chaosheng dove into a full-throated defense.

He didn’t dodge the on-set accident but backed it up with the court’s official ruling afterward.

He owned his responsibility as director without hesitation, then laid out every dime of medical bills he’d covered and every bit of compensation he’d provided over the years.

Back in the control room, staff kept tabs on the online chatter, piping any fresh skepticism straight to Wen Chaosheng via a monitor screen for his response.

He even aired out his chat history with Chang Ming right there—every threat, every act of coercion laid bare for the world.

Screenshots, voice clips: years of messages that no one could fake on the fly.

For the full half hour, Wen Chaosheng never glossed over a single detail or brushed off a single question.

The netizens who piled in hurling curses shifted from frothing rage to stunned doubt, then to pity, heartache, and dead silence.

Once the stream wrapped, Jian Jinzhao gave the nod, and Whale Shadow Culture dropped their statement in sync: “Soft-heartedness and kindness should never be trampled. Sympathy and outrage deserve better than to be weaponized! Our company has filed a police report over these rumors and slanders, and we’re pursuing this to the fullest extent of the law!”

They dropped the video testimony from the scenic area’s manager back then. With Wen Chaosheng’s go-ahead, they also released the chat logs and bank transfer records he’d referenced.

Xi Zhui and Jian Jinzhao, who’d been dragged into the mess over the past couple days, chimed in one after the other on Weibo with public backing for Wen Chaosheng.

These weren’t small-time actors—their star power lit the whole thing up like a bonfire.

And it didn’t stop there. Crew members from past projects with Wen Chaosheng started weighing in too:

“The crew busted their asses shooting for so long—who the hell wants an accident? Yeah, you were a victim, but instead of going after the scenic area, you zero in on Director Wen? Come on.”

“I said it yesterday: Director Wen treats the crew like gold. When Chang Ming got hurt, no one felt more guilty than him.”

“I know about getting that custom prosthetic for Chang Ming. Director Wen asked me to look into it specifically—cost a pretty penny too.”

“Amputation was to save his life in a pinch. Suicide? What the hell? Looks to me like Chang Ming was just pulling that card to manipulate and strong-arm Director Wen.”

The gossip-hungry netizens were floored—

The accident was the scenic area’s fault? The overseas court had ruled on it, and they’d already paid out big?

Wen Chaosheng had shelved his career all these years to tend to Chang Ming? Covered six full years of medical bills? And Chang Ming responded by threatening suicide for moral blackmail every other week?

Holy shit!

What a disgusting creep!

Turns out Chang Ming wasn’t the victim—he was a bottomless parasite!

Faced with ironclad proof, the netizens who’d been flaming Wen Chaosheng now felt their faces sting with embarrassment. They finally realized they’d been played by Chang Ming.

Still, a few diehards clung on. “Don’t whitewash yourself, you shady director! The capital cover-up on that set accident? That’s gotta be real. Quit pretending!”

“If I were Chang Ming, denied justice and my whole career ruined? Hell yeah I’d make a fuss!”

The world was full of clashing viewpoints, and that post still snagged some agreement.

But not for long. One of the parties at the center, Wen Chunshen, stepped up.

He posted a forceful handwritten letter on Weibo, owning up to how his protective instincts as a father had led him to quash the set news for Wen Chaosheng’s sake all those years ago.

Today, Wen Chunshen issued a sincere apology for his misstep—and backed it with bank statements in black and white.

He and his wife had never stopped sending financial aid to Chang Ming and his mother. The totals over the years? Easily into seven figures.

The tide turned for good.

Netizens flipped from defending Chang Ming two days ago to unloading the filthiest insults imaginable—

“Shameless ingrate! Twisting black into white—you’re a real piece of work!”

“Outrageous. Little Director Wen foots all your bills in public, runs your errands, and behind the scenes you pocket seven figures from his parents? What do you got to cry about?”

“Director Wen didn’t ruin your life—but you’re damn sure trying to ruin his. Scum!”

“Add in the scenic area’s fat payout, and a small-time actor couldn’t touch that in six years of work?”

“No manners here: Chang Ming, why didn’t that fall kill you back then?!”

“…”

In the dim hotel room, the phone screen’s glow lit up Chang Ming’s venomous, narrowed eyes.

He scrolled through the endless stream of death wishes from netizens, his face twisting in rage. “Why?!”

“Why do you get to shake me off?!”

“Wen Chaosheng! How dare you stand up to me!”

Chang Ming shook with fury.

He felt utterly betrayed, discarded by Wen Chaosheng. Hate swallowed whatever twisted “love” he’d clung to. “Weren’t we supposed to crash and burn together? Who said you could leave me behind?!”

Gripping the controls, Chang Ming wheeled toward the door, his hate-filled eyes practically bulging, like a man possessed.

He had to find Wen Chaosheng—even if it meant tearing every hospital in Haishi City apart!

Even if it killed him, he’d drag Wen Chaosheng down too!

Lost in his mad obsession, Chang Ming rolled right into uniformed officers at the door.

Their eyes met.

The lead officer clocked him first and blocked his path without hesitation. “Chang Ming, right? Officer Cai Yang, Haishi City Quiet Shore District Precinct, badge 0511.”

“…”

Chang Ming’s mind went blank with a boom. He blurted a knee-jerk lie. “Wrong guy.”

Officer Cai didn’t waste breath. “Got a report: online defamation and malicious rumors, plus breaking into private property to install illegal surveillance cams. Come with us to the station. Cooperate.”

With that, Officer Cai nodded to the rookie beside him. The young cop stepped up to take over the wheelchair.

Chang Ming’s eyes nearly popped. He swatted the hand away. “Get lost! Don’t touch me!”

“Chang Ming! You’d better play nice!”

Officer Cai’s brow furrowed, his voice sharp. “Keep this up, and it’s assaulting an officer. Nobody’s above the law—not even you!”

“…”

Outmatched by the two cops’ authority, Chang Ming’s face turned ashen.

Over these years, Chang Ming had grown accustomed to throwing his weight around in front of Wen Chaosheng. He had nearly forgotten that the world didn’t revolve around him.

The young police officer, whose hand he had struck, swallowed his irritation and swiftly pushed the wheelchair toward the exit. “Behave yourself!”

With his limited mobility and no viable escape routes on the hotel’s second floor, Chang Ming’s eyes burned with resentment. The madness in his mind still gripped his thoughts.

No!

He couldn’t just let them take him to the police station!

He had to find Wen Chaosheng immediately!

The instant the young officer shoved him through the hotel doors, Chang Ming made a desperate gamble. He yanked the stun baton from the wheelchair’s inner pocket. “All of you, go die!”

The young officer, taken completely off guard, collapsed to the ground.

Even the lead Officer Cai hadn’t anticipated Chang Ming’s hidden weapon. Though he retreated with impressive speed, half his body went numb from the electric shock.

“Chang Ming, stop right there!”

“Who told you to arrest me? I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m the victim here! Get lost! All of you, scram!”

Chang Ming had plunged into utter madness. His hands shook as he hurled the stun baton aside. He wrenched the wheelchair controls, careening wildly toward the middle of the road.

He burst through just before the red light countdown hit zero.

Blinded by recklessness, he hurtled forward without noticing the small delivery truck rounding the corner at the intersection.

—Crash!

The world spun in a dizzying whirl, and then familiar agony began to spread.

His already atrophied right leg, along with his right hand, was instantly mangled beneath the wheels, reduced to a bloody pulp!

In the final moment before blacking out, Chang Ming felt himself hurled back to that accident from years ago. Only this time, no compassionate Chaosheng would come to save him.