Chapter 15: In the Eye of the Storm

Wang Dazhong exercised remarkable restraint and did not continue to quarrel with Zhang Qiyang.

Previously, he believed Zhang Qiyang was simply a fool, ripe for ridicule, and every insult would land squarely. But today, he realized Zhang Qiyang had transformed into a madman with no limits whatsoever. If he kept confronting Zhang Qiyang, he would have to weigh the consequences carefully. Should he really go down with Zhang Qiyang in a blaze of mutual destruction, he would undoubtedly suffer more. His public image was far stronger than Zhang Qiyang’s, and he could not afford to be dragged into infamy by him.

Yet, Wang Dazhong could not swallow the humiliation of Zhang Qiyang accusing him of being cuckolded. He ordered his team to launch a massive campaign of internet trolls, seizing upon Zhang Qiyang’s alleged manipulation of votes to win first place on “My Song,” determined to ruin him completely and nail him to the pillar of disgrace, condemned by millions.

In truth, even without Wang Dazhong’s efforts to malign Zhang Qiyang, there were already hundreds of thousands, even millions of sharp-eyed netizens questioning Zhang Qiyang’s victory. Within a mere two days, the accusation of vote-rigging became widely accepted as fact. Countless netizens called for a boycott of “My Song,” demanded Zhang Qiyang’s removal from the stage, and even his expulsion from the entertainment industry.

The production team of “My Song” found themselves under immense pressure. The director, Xiao Meiyun, personally visited Zhang Qiyang in the hospital twice, hoping to discuss with Chen Ke whether their side could compromise—suggesting that Zhang Qiyang withdraw from the competition under the pretext of health concerns.

Chen Ke agreed with this approach, but Zhang Qiyang would not hear of it. Having crossed over to this world, risking his life in a battered body to compete, he had finally secured an opportunity—why should he retreat now? If people wanted to insult him, so be it; he would silence the public with his talent and actions.

He insisted on participating in the next round of “My Song,” and sternly instructed Chen Ke not to manipulate votes for him again. He thanked Chen Ke and the team for their efforts last week to keep him on stage, but in the future, he wished to earn recognition through his own abilities, not by vote manipulation.

This proud and unyielding spirit bore some resemblance to the original Zhang Qiyang. Chen Ke, however, felt that his stubbornness was self-defeating and absurdly arrogant. Win everyone’s approval by talent alone? Did he think he was Li Xuan?

Since Zhang Qiyang was determined to continue performing on “My Song,” Chen Ke and Xiao Meiyun had no choice but to proceed with the program as usual.

On Wednesday morning, Zhang Qiyang’s health check was clear, and he was discharged. The “My Song” team confirmed his participation in the next round and were forced to issue an announcement explaining that his sudden withdrawal and subsequent absence from recording the previous week had been due to health reasons.

They had not wanted to release such a statement; Zhang Qiyang’s championship had sparked immense public outrage, and clarifying that he had won while ill would only deepen doubts about the fairness of the show. If not for pressure from East Entertainment, the production team might never have offered this explanation.

As expected, the announcement drew even harsher criticism. Everyone found it unbelievable—how could Zhang Qiyang, who hadn’t even finished his song, win the episode’s championship? If this wasn’t a rigged outcome, what was? They saw it as a stain upon the stage of “My Song.”

A larger wave of anti-Zhang sentiment swept in. Billions of posts flooded the internet, denouncing Zhang Qiyang and lambasting “My Song” as corrupt. Any ordinary singer would buckle under such pressure and quietly withdraw from the show to avoid further humiliation.

But Zhang Qiyang was different. He cared not at all for the insults hurled at him. Having just crossed into this world and become the son of the wealthiest tycoon, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, living each day as if in a beautiful dream, and had no time to concern himself with his detractors.

For the past two days, he wore a cheerful expression, his smile never fading, leaving Qin Xueyang stunned. In the past, faced with such intense public scrutiny and condemnation, the notorious “Cannon Master” would have exploded, unleashing his fury on social media and battling millions online, with anything at hand likely to become his outlet for rage—breaking whatever he could find, and Qin Xueyang would not dare approach him.

But this time, to Qin Xueyang’s surprise, Zhang Qiyang not only refrained from smashing anything, but spent his days gleefully browsing the posts insulting him. For those with particularly creative invective, he even copied them, claiming he’d use them as inspiration when cursing out Wang Dazhong in the future.

Such transcendent composure made Qin Xueyang question reality itself. What had become of the young master of the Zhang family? Could it be that his bout of stomach trouble had finally set his IQ in order?

She was unaccustomed to this rational Zhang Qiyang, but seeing him face adversity so calmly and fearlessly, Qin Xueyang was genuinely happy for him.

The pity was that Zhang Qiyang’s arrogance remained unchanged, growing even more pronounced. Once his participation in the next round of “My Song” was confirmed, Chen Ke immediately instructed East Entertainment’s music team to select and adapt songs tailored for Zhang Qiyang, hoping to rehabilitate his image with more suitable works.

Qin Xueyang also advised him to compromise during this turbulent time, accept the music team’s suggestions, and sing a reliable song in the next round, rather than his own compositions.

But Zhang Qiyang firmly rejected their proposal. He insisted on singing his own songs, and declared that from now on, regardless of the program, he would only perform his own works. With his talent, he needed no one to write or select songs for him.

This arrogant attitude gave Qin Xueyang and Chen Ke headaches. They both knew how “highbrow and obscure” Zhang Qiyang’s songs were—they were not for normal listeners at all! If Zhang Qiyang insisted on performing his dark, gothic pieces on “My Song,” his image would be utterly destroyed.

“My Song” was nothing like the ordinary shows Zhang Qiyang had previously appeared on, which lacked public influence. This premier variety program wielded tremendous power across all age groups in the country. Many people who had never known what Zhang Qiyang sang would now be introduced to the tycoon’s son through this show.

If he performed those dark-themed songs on this stage, it would be nearly impossible to rehabilitate his image afterward.

No matter how they tried to persuade him, Zhang Qiyang remained resolute—he would only perform his own original works on “My Song.” He had even decided what song to sing next. Apparently, it was a piece he was currently composing, titled “Outlier.”

The moment Qin Xueyang heard the name, she had a bad feeling—“Outlier”? What on earth was Zhang Qiyang planning to sing? Surely nothing positive. And he hadn’t even finished writing the song, yet planned to perform it by the weekend? Was he joking?

“Cannon Master, can’t you be a bit more reliable? You haven’t even finished the new song, how are you going to perform it on Saturday?” That afternoon at the hotel, Qin Xueyang prepared to try persuading Zhang Qiyang once more.

When in a good mood, she would affectionately call him “Cannon Master,” like a little follower.

Zhang Qiyang replied, “I’ll definitely finish writing it in the next two days, don’t worry.”

“I just think you have a better option. The production team just called me—they suggested you sing ‘Night Star’ again this week. Last week you had health issues and didn’t finish the song, but the team has explained it to everyone. This week you could perform it in full, giving your fans closure.” Qin Xueyang added, “That song has real potential.”

“It does have potential, but even if it’s a delicacy, if you left it half-eaten last week, would you really want to eat it again this week? Even if you could, wouldn’t the audience be sick of it?”