Public [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 12
**Chapter 12 – Clouds Disperse, Rain Clears**
The light in the room was dim and hazy.
Qin Mang’s eardrums buzzed, dragging her heartbeat into chaos.
She didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking, or if it was He Lingji’s commanding and aloof words.
She wondered if she had misheard.
That wasn’t like He Lingji at all.
The girl wobbled as she leaned against the man’s long, strong legs, trying to stand up and meet him eye-to-eye.
With the movement, the strap on her delicate shoulder slipped off, revealing a large patch of fair, tender skin. She didn’t notice at all and stared at him directly.
The alcohol in her breath curled around every nerve.
“You’re really… He Lingji?”
He Lingji waited for her to finally get the words out, only to hear *that* line.
Before he could respond—
Her fingertip suddenly poked his cheek.
In the next second—
A strange flicker passed through his grey-blue eyes.
Qin Mang, already flushed from drinking, now burned like a small furnace. Her fingertips touched the man’s cool skin, and she couldn’t help but murmur contentedly:
“So cool.”
A second later—
She rubbed her own chin and looked him up and down seriously, nodding with conviction,
“You’re definitely fake.”
With that, she reached out again to touch his face, mumbling, “So realistic though…”
He Lingji glanced at the whiskey bottle on the table—only half left. His lips tugged slightly as he said plainly:
“You’re drunk.”
That hit the little lion’s sensitive nerve.
Qin Mang’s eyes widened in disbelief, her misty, affectionate gaze full of grievance.
“Who’s drunk? I can drink a thousand shots without getting tipsy!”
She let go of He Lingji and plopped back onto the couch.
Grabbing the remaining half-bottle of whiskey, she tilted it toward her mouth—
She was determined to show this ‘fake man-doll’ that she, Qin Mang, was indeed a god of alcohol!
Mere mortal liquor? It couldn’t touch her!
She moved fast.
But before she could drink, He Lingji grabbed the bottle.
*Splash—*
The liquor spilled from the bottle, soaking Qin Mang.
The always composed and restrained man showed a rare moment of emotional crack.
Her thin and sheer nightgown clung to her curvy figure, now soaked. Snowy skin, like vermilion on white, stunning and sharp.
The clear alcohol dripped down her smooth legs, leaving trails behind.
Alluring curves paired with an innocent, dazed expression—pure innocence and irresistible seduction combined into a breathtaking vision of a drenched beauty.
He Lingji instinctively gripped her slender wrist.
Qin Mang stumbled and fell into his arms.
His long, sculpted fingers—like those of an artist—were now covered in liquor.
The struggling girl rubbed her scent all over him.
The fragrance of a young woman mixed with the biting alcohol overwhelmed him.
Though fastidious by nature, his breath caught—
Logic told him to push her away.
But his grip only tightened.
His gaze fell to the little red beauty mark on her body—so enticing.
He Lingji’s thin lips parted with a heavy voice: “Qin Mang.”
Qin Mang, doubting her own senses, noticed the lights seemed to blur into rows. Her lashes blinked once, then again.
Dragging out her words, she asked innocently, “What?”
He Lingji said, “You got me wet.”
Qin Mang tilted her head and even reached down to touch the damp spot on her thigh, yawning with feigned innocence: “I’m wet too.”
She moved without a shred of restraint.
He Lingji’s gaze swept over her dewy fingertips and finally met her clear black eyes.
He suspected she was doing this on purpose.
The next second—
The young lady threw her arms around his neck like a koala and clung to him boldly, commanding,
“You got me wet, you clean me up!”
———
Outside the presidential suite, the hallway was bright, illuminating the ornate carpet.
By a colorful mural, Meng Ting stood so long his legs went numb, locked in a silent stare with Secretary Cong at the door.
Next to Secretary Cong stood a black, expensive-looking suitcase.
Meng Ting’s eyes were sore, and he finally blinked.
He couldn’t help swallowing nervously as he recalled seeing the legendary Mr. He an hour ago.
After a long pause, he cautiously asked,
“Secretary Cong, where is President He staying tonight?”
Just then—
The tightly shut door opened.
Meng Ting instinctively looked up to see a man in a casually draped white hotel robe.
His features were cool and elegant, with a noble air. He glanced at them indifferently.
“Bring it in.”
Meng Ting shivered.
Did… did he mean what he *thought* he meant?
Th-the trending topic?!
After Secretary Cong brought the suitcase in, he patted Meng Ting’s shoulder meaningfully.
“Of course—where Miss Qin is, is where President He stays.”
President He had always been disciplined, bound by rules, with everything under control.
He was supposed to be in Ling City handling important business.
Yet here he was, in Qing City’s film base.
If *he* had been the one trending, it would’ve been wiped from the net instantly, like the last time with the forums.
But this time—it concerned *his wife*.
That said it all.
By 8 PM, online discussions about Qin Mang were still red hot.
Hours had passed, yet neither her personal Weibo nor her company’s made a statement.
Netizens assumed they were playing dead.
All of Qin Mang’s endorsement and collaboration brand accounts were bombarded.
Netizens demanded contract termination.
One brand, unable to withstand the pressure, publicly announced their contract had already ended.
Online opinion was in an uproar.
As people voiced sympathy for the yacht incident’s victim, Yao Ting—
She went live.
Light makeup, a face pale from days indoors—
Her weak appearance tugged at viewers’ hearts.
Comments flooded in:
“Did Qin Mang apologize to you?”
Yao Ting looked as if she’d been stabbed, dodging the question.
“I just wanted to thank fans who messaged me. I’m okay.”
People suspected she’d been scared into silence by Qin Mang.
Gifts and comforting messages poured in.
“Don’t worry, Yao Yao, we’ll protect you!”
“Stay strong!”
“As long as you’re safe, it’s fine.”
“How is it fine? She’s clearly still traumatized!”
“Why should the victim be traumatized while the bully thrives in the spotlight?”
“She’s hogging top resources while better actresses get sidelined!”
Yao Ting pretended not to see.
A few minutes later, she ended the stream due to ‘discomfort.’
But not long after—
The hashtag **#DisgracedCelebrityQinMangMustApologize** exploded again.
“Has Qin Mang apologized to Yao Ting? No.”
“Has she apologized to the staff she bullied? No.”
“Apologize! Apologize! Apologize!”
“@‘Dreams of Jinghua’ official—are you keeping this immoral actress around for New Year?”
“Replace the female lead, or we boycott the whole show!”
“Seriously, how did someone with no talent, only looks, get cast as the lead?”
“No work, no skill, just riding on her looks, overshadowing real actresses. Get this blight out of the industry!”
“Thousands demand her permanent exit from showbiz.”
“…”
The trending page was flooded with criticism.
Even Qin Mang’s Weibo was filled with one word: **Apologize**.
It wasn’t just the trending searches that were filled with such topics—even Qin Mang’s Weibo was flooded with demands for her to “apologize.”
Qin Mang’s fans tried tirelessly to tell everyone: give Qin Mang a chance to speak. Even a murderer gets a chance to appeal.
Qin Mang isn’t that kind of person. There must be some misunderstanding.
Unfortunately, when facing the overwhelming malice of the world, her small number of fans was quickly drowned out by the tide of criticism.
“Yao Ting’s acting is actually decent at a time like this.”
Inside the makeup room of the film set, Shen Wanyin was removing her makeup after filming a scene as the second female lead. She lightly touched her pale face in the mirror.
Wei Qin chuckled. “In a few days, you’ll be the female lead.”
“We’ll give this second lead role to Yao Ting as a thank-you gift.”
As she spoke, she handed over a tablet. “With Qin Mang’s personality, forcing her to hold a press conference and apologize is probably worse than skinning her alive.”
Shen Wanyin glanced at the trending topics.
She casually scrolled through and noticed some fans were still defending Qin Mang. Frowning, she said, “Buy more bots. Push her fans’ comments down.”
“Got it.”
Their studio had a whole team of paid commenters. Wei Qin agreed easily.
Wipe them out completely—that’s the only clean way.
But—
Wei Qin felt something was off. Why wasn’t Qin Mang’s company doing anything? At the very least, they should issue a clarification.
Have they even stopped trying to fight back?
At that moment, in the outer lounge of a presidential suite at a hotel—
Cong Zhen opened the full video that had been clipped from the yacht surveillance footage that night.
The man seated on the black sofa had a noble and composed bearing. He calmly watched the computer screen—
The vibrant, dazzling girl sat quietly in the corner, already a radiant and eye-catching presence.
She drew the attention—and even pursuit—of most of the guests in the banquet hall.
Her pale fingers played with business cards, appearing casual and nonchalant, yet somehow irresistible.
He Lingji’s gaze fell on the dozen or so business cards in her hand.
Cong Zhen cleared his throat. “To ensure guest safety, the yacht has surveillance everywhere except the restroom. We also had lip-reading experts analyze the dialogue. Miss Qin was acting in self-defense and didn’t actually harm anyone. Instead, it was Miss Yao and her companions who acted out of jealousy, spreading falsehoods and possibly even committing intimidation.”
“We’ve also obtained evidence disproving other rumors about Qin Mang being a diva.”
Seeing He Lingji silent, Cong Zhen added, “Several media executives would like to apologize to you in person.”
He Lingji slowly sipped his coffee. It was bitter and cold, but he seemed unaffected. Under the light, his features looked like an ancient statue submerged in the deep sea—perfect, sharp, and untouched by time—except for his slightly moistened lips, which lent a hint of humanity.
From the master bedroom came a faint noise.
He Lingji put down his cup unhurriedly.
He stood and spoke calmly, “No need. Just send them the video.”
They know what to do.
Qin Mang had been awakened by the heat.
Groggy, she sat up clutching her blanket. The room was pitch dark.
She hadn’t slept well.
Her dreams were like black holes, trying to swallow her whole. Then those black holes turned into lines and lines of writing, forming accusations, mockery, and condemnation—
Qin Mang, why did you enter the entertainment industry?
Qin Mang, why don’t you leave the entertainment industry?
Qin Mang, no one here wants you.
Vase, lunatic, no real works, hogging all the resources!
…
Each line pierced her defenses easily, stabbing into her nerves.
For a moment, Qin Mang was dazed. Why *had* she entered showbiz?
Why give up her life as a pampered heiress just to suffer like this?
Why?
From the fog in her mind, a faint outline formed.
As if remembering something.
Qin Mang got out of bed barefoot. Her arches trembled as they touched the floor.
She walked unsteadily but with a clear goal toward her wardrobe. Beneath the pile of clothes lay a delicate little box—something she always took with her when she traveled.
More precious to her than the gems in her family’s collection.
She carefully opened the box.
Inside was a plain notebook, slightly aged.
But well-preserved.
She unfastened the leather clasp. On the first page was a small drawing of a trophy—poorly drawn, but playfully charming. On the trophy’s base, written neatly in fine script: *Best Actress – Guan Yueyan.*
When Qin Mang was seven, her mother Guan Yueyan passed away from illness. This notebook was the only thing she left behind—her father, who had since renounced worldly attachments, took everything else.
Qin Mang had stumbled upon this notebook two years ago in their old house.
It was less of a diary and more of an actor’s journal, full of reflections and a lifelong dream: to win the Best Actress award.
Back when she was about to graduate, her mentor asked her: “What’s your dream for the future?”
As a wealthy heiress who had known luxury since birth, her days were filled with scheduled skill classes. She had no dreams, not even hobbies.
Well—aside from collecting gemstones and spending money.
Her mentor smiled gently and asked a second question: “Do you want to work in finance?”
She had only picked the major because her uncle arranged it.
Qin Mang was indifferent.
She certainly didn’t want to spend her youth in finance.
Looking blankly at her mentor, she asked, “Must people have dreams?”
That question puzzled her for a long time.
Until she found this notebook—her mother’s passion for acting filled every page. As if she lived just to burn bright on stage.
Unfortunately, Guan Yueyan’s poor health never allowed her to fully commit to acting. She died without ever receiving her dream award.
Qin Mang’s decision to enter the entertainment industry had been impulsive.
She wanted to win that Best Actress trophy for her mother.
*Click—*
Qin Mang heard the door open but didn’t move.
She remembered. He Lingji had come.
“Get up.”
Seeing her sitting on the floor, staring blankly at a notebook, He Lingji’s deep voice echoed in the dark.
A few seconds later—
Qin Mang seemed to respond to his signal. Slowly standing up, her eyes—now used to the darkness—easily met his deep, all-seeing gaze.
Her red lips parted.
In a soft, slightly confused voice, she asked, “He Lingji.”
“Tell me, should I not be an actress?”
The man, tall and lean, leaned lazily against the wardrobe with a calm air. “Why?”
Qin Mang replied bitterly, “I don’t think I belong in this industry.”
It was as if her very presence disrupted some unspoken rule. That’s why the whole industry targeted her. No one welcomed her.
“So what now—quit the entertainment industry?”
“I…”
Qin Mang choked. She hadn’t expected him to be so blunt.
She didn’t know how to refute him.
Her face turned red with frustration.
He Lingji didn’t comfort her. Instead, he said coldly, “Oh, Miss Qin is here to save the world, then?”
“…?”
“When did I ever—”
Wait, why had he come again?
Just to piss her off?
Why was he being so sarcastic?
Still a bit tipsy, Qin Mang’s brain hadn’t caught up. They were close—so close that if she tiptoed, she could kiss him.
His usual deep gray-blue eyes weren’t mocking. They were calm, like the surface of a quiet sea, able to contain anything.
The light in Qin Mang’s tearful eyes slowly faded.
She understood what He Lingji meant.
Right. She didn’t enter this industry to save the world. If she left now, wouldn’t that be giving those people exactly what they wanted?
A spark of clarity lit up in her eyes.
She wasn’t as defeated as before.
In the narrow walk-in closet—
The man’s voice was soft, almost like casual chat. “Only when you stand at the top can you have the right to decide whether to stay or leave.”
Before Qin Mang could react—
He Lingji had already walked past her into the room.
“What are you doing?”
“Sleeping.”
Qin Mang stomped after him. “How can you still think about sleep when I’m being torn apart online?!”
He retorted, “Aren’t you tired?”
Qin Mang: “…”
…Yes, she was.
**#DisgracedCelebrityQinMangShouldApologize** remained trending with the “explosive” tag beside it, and its popularity refused to die down.
Under the Weibo post Qin Mang made a few days ago announcing she had joined a new project, over a million comments demanded she « apologize » and « quit the entertainment industry. »
With a wave of hired trolls fueling the fire, public opinion online was rapidly shifting against her.
Everyone assumed Qin Mang wouldn’t be able to withstand the pressure, and that she would eventually apologize publicly and announce her retirement from showbiz.
But, at midnight—
Someone *did* apologize. Only, it wasn’t Qin Mang.
It was the media outlets and marketing accounts who had led the charge in labeling Qin Mang as a “disgraced celebrity.”
The outlet that first published the yacht video of Qin Mang suddenly deleted the footage, pinning a handwritten apology letter from their CEO and a video apology to the top of their feed.
Before netizens could even react, all the accounts that had previously stirred public opinion began posting pinned apology letters, admitting they were paid to spread rumors and manipulate the narrative.
They were groveling.
> “Damn, am I seeing this right?”
>
> “Shouldn’t the trending tag be: ‘Disgraced Celebrity Qin Mang Apologizes’? Why is it now ‘Disgraced Media Apologizes’?”
>
> “…”
Before people could process it all, major official media outlets began releasing the full surveillance footage of the alleged “yacht assault” incident—complete with real-time lip-reading analysis by a well-known expert.
Everything became crystal clear.
It turned out a group of D-list actresses, jealous of Qin Mang’s popularity, had cornered her in a dressing room and maliciously slandered her. She had merely defended herself.
Qin Mang wasn’t acting like some “unhinged villainess.” She was the righteous heroine enacting satisfying revenge—a true queen striking back against injustice!
Weibo, already lively, completely exploded.
Soon, Qin Mang’s fans dug up tons of posts labeling her a “disgraced celebrity,” all traceable to organized troll networks.
It was obvious: someone had tried to completely destroy her.
Meanwhile, every comment questioning the situation or defending Qin Mang had been deliberately suppressed.
Just as the full context of the incident was being pushed across the internet—
**#A Letter From Qin Mang’s Fans To Qin Mang** also climbed onto the trending list.
This letter had previously been throttled and kept out of sight.
Now, it was finally receiving the attention it deserved:
> **A Letter From All The Little Radiant Stars to Qin Mang:**
>
> In *Malice*, Higashino Keigo once wrote: “Some people hate without reason. They are mediocre, talentless, unremarkable. So your brilliance, your talent, your kindness and happiness—become your original sin.”
>
> So they don’t listen to explanations. They ignore the doubts we raised. They rush to judge you, eager to see you silenced forever. They simply want to laugh as someone noble falls into the mud, as a goddess is dragged to earth.
>
> But you—fearless and undaunted—will walk a path of light, and let them watch as you reach the peak and gaze down at their pettiness. We are your unbreakable shield, your shimmering light. Even if we are but a faint glow, we will forever protect you.
>
> When the scorching sun falls into clouds, the skies will still clear. And brilliance will return.
>
> Qin Mang, you were born to shine.
The accompanying image was a still from her debut video:
A girl in a dazzling red dress, radiant as the sun and moon, standing atop a majestic snow-white lion—like a divine goddess descending to earth, with the world bowing at her feet.
That was how her fans saw Qin Mang.
Always radiant. Always proud. Never bowing to anyone or anything.
Not once did the letter mention “belief,” but every word was filled with trust.
It was pure and devoted trust from her fans.
Overnight, public opinion completely reversed.
The shadow and label of “disgraced celebrity” disappeared as if it had never existed.
In its place stood Qin Mang—still radiant, still noble at heart.
—
The next day.
Meng Ting arrived, looking refreshed and excited, bringing good news. She couldn’t help but marvel, “Thank goodness for that joint letter your fan account posted. Without it, even with the truth cleared up, your career would’ve taken a big hit.”
After all, once the label of “disgraced celebrity” sticks, it’s hard to peel off in the eyes of the public.
But this time—
The reversal was absolute.
Qin Mang wasn’t just unharmed—she even gained a wave of sympathy and guilt from former critics.
Plenty of netizens had once jumped on the hate bandwagon.
Qin Mang curled up on the sofa, holding the phone Meng Ting had finally returned to her.
She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.
Just when she had been seriously considering leaving the entertainment industry and going home to inherit the family business, everything had somehow been resolved.
Truthfully, she’d never felt like she belonged in this industry—not even now.
Until—
She read that joint fan letter.
The Qin Mang who hadn’t shed a single tear throughout the entire scandal, suddenly found her eyes reddening. Her curled lashes shimmered with tears.
She read that letter over and over again.
Stared at the photo over and over again.
That… was how her fans saw her.
Back when she first debuted, she had been full of hope for acting.
Not just to fulfill her mother’s dream.
But because, through her mother’s actor journals, she’d developed dreams of her own.
A tiny seed of hope.
That eventually grew into a dream.
Meng Ting, enjoying the shift in public sentiment, suddenly thought of something. “By the way, you and President He…”
Knock knock.
The sound of knocking interrupted her.
Qin Mang’s tearful, shining eyes lit up: “I’ll get the door.”
It had to be He Lingji, who had left early that morning!
She’d misunderstood him last night—and to think, he quietly went and solved such a massive mess for her!
She had to thank him properly!
He Lingji’s business in Ling City wasn’t yet finished.
There was an important meeting today, but a video call wasn’t ideal, so they took a private jet over instead.
In the hallway—
The man in a black shirt stood immaculate and stern, nothing like the relaxed and lazy man from the night before. His eyes were cold and distant, exuding an untouchable, aloof presence.
To Qin Mang, though, he looked more like a cold, seductive temptation.
After all, she had seen what he looked like in bed.
So the moment she opened the door and saw only him in her sights, she naturally leapt into his arms, wrapped herself around that deadly waist, and kissed his thin lips with closed eyes in one smooth motion.
He Lingji’s cold expression softened slightly with the soft body in his arms. “Mrs. He, taking advantage of me?”
“That was a goddess’s kiss! How can it be called taking advantage?”
“It was a blessing!”
Qin Mang gave him another kiss—harder this time.
She just wanted to kiss him.
The weight in her heart had finally lifted, and now she was like a playful little lioness, needing to let loose.
Until she casually looked up—
And made eye contact with a group of suited-up elite professionals behind He Lingji.
A whole group.
Not just one.
He Lingji calmly said, “Allow me to introduce—this is my wife, who happens to have a passion for film.”
