Conquering the Stars and My Haters’ Hearts - Chapter 19

“What?” Jin Xinheng was nearly bursting with rage. His mental energy surged violently, and he fought the urge to kill them on the spot. “Even if I accidentally hit ‘send’ because of some freak bad luck, couldn’t you use your own brains to evaluate the situation? Now look! How am I supposed to show my face in public? Hundreds of millions of people saw me lose like a dog!”

“Young Master, it—it wasn’t that embarrassing. That streamer actually seemed quite skilled,” one subordinate ventured bravely.

“SHUT UP!!”

The floorboards beneath them cracked under the pressure of his aura. The subordinates tried to shrink into themselves.

Jin Xinheng knew the truth. During the fight with “Call Me Daddy,” he hadn’t felt even a ripple of mental energy from his opponent. If the guy were truly that strong, Jin Xinheng would have been suppressed before he ever felt threatened. There was only one explanation for what happened: he had been cursed with a string of impossible bad luck.

“Find out who that guy is. Now,” Jin Xinheng ordered coldly. “He dared to cross me. I want him dead.”

His subordinates nodded like chickens pecking grain. Privately, they couldn’t help but think: Jin Xinheng challenged the guy, lost the fight, and sent the order to stream it himself. Now he’s acting like the victim. Honestly, that streamer is the one with the bad luck here.

The Grade 2 Constitution Enhancement Potion was incredibly effective. When Xie Anning woke up, he felt a massive surge in his physical strength. When he tested his mental power, he found he could easily output C-level energy, bordering on B-level.

Moreover, the knowledge from the skill books—Mech Basics, Maintenance, and even the Farming skills had become clear and ingrained. It felt as though he had spent years studying them; everything was now available at a mere thought.

Although the farming skills felt entirely useless for the time being, Xie Anning brushed it off. He tidied himself up, changed into his school uniform, and headed downstairs with deliberate ease to grab some breakfast from a neighboring shop.

In the past, the original Xie Anning couldn’t have afforded this. Since the food was handmade rather than synthetic, the price was quite steep. For the current Xie Anning, however, it was a worthy indulgence. If he weren’t still mindful of his budget, he would have loved to dine at the most luxurious restaurants every single day.

Fine food is simply too important for the soul.

He arrived at school shortly after. Having learned his lesson, he no longer hopped off the transport directly at the main gates. Instead, he took a detour through a secluded side entrance to avoid being mobbed.

Along the way, he overheard several groups gossiping about Jin Xinheng. Hearing his own gaming ID, Xie Anning couldn’t help but prick up his ears.

“That ‘Call Me Daddy’ is seriously insane. His skill level is off the charts—he actually took down Jin Xinheng! I’d never even heard of the guy before.”

“But I heard Jin Xinheng only lost because of a technical blunder.”

“Bullshit! You think a ‘blunder’ results in a flat-ground faceplant? It’s obvious ‘Call Me Daddy’ used high-level mental pressure to suppress him! Only those delusional Jin Xinheng stans would believe such a brain-dead excuse.”

“Exactly! I was there in the arena, and let me tell you, ‘Call Me Daddy’ was the definition of cool. He was using such a clunky, low-rent mech, too. That’s a true master for you!”

Listening to the praise, Xie Anning felt a twinge of guilt. In reality, he was a complete novice who hadn’t even been pilot-certified for a month. He’d only learned the technical basics the night before; his victory was entirely thanks to the Water of Misfortune.

When he entered the classroom, his classmates greeted him with unprecedented warmth. During the lecture, Xie Anning found himself doodling absentmindedly. When he finished, he was shocked to find he had sketched a remarkably handsome man. Upon closer inspection, the face looked hauntingly familiar.

Beside him, Yu Hongfeng gasped. “Ning Xiujin!”

Yu Hongfeng immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The name had already traveled. The surrounding students turned to look at Xie Anning with complex, sympathetic eyes.

In their minds, it was common knowledge that Xie Anning’s sudden transformation into a genius was the result of the emotional trauma from Ning Xiujin’s cruel rejection. Seeing the sketch, they assumed he was still deeply pining for his lost love.

How tragic, they thought. Ning Xiujin is blind! Xie Anning is clearly the catch of a lifetime! Had they not felt unworthy of him, half the class would have likely rushed forward to volunteer as a replacement.

Xie Anning: “…” Crap, why did I draw Ning Xiujin?!

He looked down at the sketch again. It was a dead ringer for the man. It seemed the original owner’s muscle memory still held some lingering influence over the body.

He personally felt zero attachment to Ning Xiujin, but seeing the way his classmates looked at him as if he were made of fragile glass, he knew any explanation would fall on deaf ears. He offered a helpless, bitter smile.

“Whatever. Time will prove everything.” Besides, being perceived as “taken” or heartbroken wasn’t entirely bad; it kept unwanted suitors at bay.

After class, he tossed the drawing into a secluded trash bin.

However, that piece of paper soon found its way onto Anders’ desk.

Anders stared at the crumpled page. With just a few masterful strokes, the artist had captured the very essence of the handsome youth. It was a drawing that radiated the deep familiarity of the creator with their subject. Anyone who had seen Ning Xiujin would recognize him instantly.

Anders’ expression darkened. He reached out, shredded the paper, and set the scraps ablaze until they were nothing but ash.

A subordinate nearby couldn’t help but whisper, “If you truly care about him that much.”

“Care? About what?” Anders’ voice dripped with disdain, his teeth gritted. “Why would I care about that guy?”

The subordinate fell silent. You literally ordered me to fish a piece of trash out of a bin, yet you claim you don’t care!

Anders felt a chaotic restlessness in his chest. He would never dream of playing nice with Xie Anning, but the idea of the boy pining for Ning Xiujin was unbearable. What was so great about that guy?

Since Anders wasn’t exactly a “moral” person and didn’t know how to handle his frustration, he turned his sights toward Ning Xiujin. If Ning Xiujin were to do something even more unforgivable than what Anders had done, how would Xie Anning react?

He found himself very curious to find out.

Meanwhile, the latest issue of The Galaxy hit the shelves, and the online literary forums exploded.

The “shameless” newcomer, Ning Xie—who had allegedly used a water army to smear the legendary Wade had actually secured a serialization slot. The news shocked and enraged the public.

Many were convinced Ning Xie was a wealthy socialite with powerful connections who was just playing at being an author. Not only was he a “hack,” but he had supposedly used his influence to trample on a veteran master.

How dare The Galaxy publish his serial? usually, an author had to prove themselves for months before getting a long-form slot. What had this rookie done to earn it?

Of course, any objective reader could see that The Galaxy had given the prime real estate to Wade. Wade received all the promotional banners and recommendations, while the newcomer received none. If it weren’t for the scandal, most people wouldn’t have even noticed Ning Xie’s name.

Wade’s fans felt their idol was being victimized and began a relentless campaign of abuse against the magazine and Ning Xie. Meanwhile, Wade maintained a “magnanimous” public front while subtly hinting at his own dissatisfaction, further fanning the flames.

“Wade is a god! Any magazine would beg for him! The Galaxy is shameless to treat him this way!”

“Don’t blame the editors entirely. The Chief Editor must have been forced into this. This rookie must have too much power behind him.”

In reality, many of these “fans” were actually paid posters hired by Wade and other rival magazines to agitate the crowd. Wade intended to announce his move to the Tianji Literature City in two weeks, and he was currently building the momentum for his exit. While they accused Xie Anning of using a “water army,” Wade was actually the one masters the craft.

Amidst the chorus of people swearing to leave hate reviews and drive Ning Xie out of the magazine, Alfred received his copy of The Galaxy. Unlike in the past, he didn’t flip to Wade’s section first. He went straight for Ning Xie’s new work.

After the recent short stories, Alfred felt Wade’s writing was suddenly lacking a certain spark.

“The Starry Heavens?” Alfred murmured the title. He began to read with a careful, almost reverent pace, as if afraid he would finish it too quickly.

The opening was lighthearted, but this time it was written from a male perspective, allowing for a deeper level of immersion. Because it was a long-form serial, the pacing was more deliberate, using character-driven moments to build the world.

Though it wasn’t “tragic” yet, the prose was engaging and the character dynamics were charming. Alfred found himself reading with a grin, completely forgetting his old rule about only reading “tragedies.”

When he finished the update, he felt a warmth in his chest, as if he’d been standing in the sun.

In his heart, Alfred was certain: Xie Anning was a true master. No matter the genre, everything under his pen was pure magic.

When he turned back to Wade’s latest chapter, Alfred was surprised to find a growing sense of weariness washing over him. For the first time, he found it difficult to even finish the update.

After forcing himself through it, the experience felt utterly lackluster—like “chewing on a wax candle.” The spark was gone; that frantic urge to shower the author with donations had completely evaporated.

“Young Master, shall I place the usual votes for both authors this time?” the butler inquired.

“No,” Alfred replied tonelessly. “Give them all to Ning Xie.”

He let out a long, weary sigh, realizing his palate had been thoroughly spoiled by this newcomer. It was getting harder to stomach other novels, yet he was too addicted to stop reading.

He felt a complex, love-hate fascination with this author. To write with such depth and nuance, Alfred mused, this Ning Xie must surely be a man in his fifties, someone who has weathered the many storms of life.

Alfred wasn’t alone. Other fans of Ning Xie felt an addictive, almost visceral pull toward the new serial.

However, whenever they tried to recommend the story on forums or social media, they were met with a wall of vitriol directed at the author. It was infuriating. How could anyone claim Ning Xie’s talent was inferior to Wade’s? Every word of praise had been earned, yet Wade’s fanbase continued to dismiss it all as paid hype.

Outnumbered and unable to win the shouting match online, Ning Xie’s supporters funneled their frustration into grassroots promotion, recommending the book to everyone they knew in a desperate bid to gain more allies.

Meanwhile, as the scandal grew, curious onlookers began peeking at the new serial. They were shocked. The level of craftsmanship was light-years beyond the “shameless hack” the rumors described. It was brilliant.

Those who initially had a poor impression of Ning Xie began to feel he had been framed. The relentless campaign to boycott him actually backfired, triggering a rebellious “reverse psychology” among neutral readers. Even some of Wade’s fans, who had intended to read the work only to mock it with “evidence,” found themselves faltering. Wait, this is actually good? Did the person we just trashed really write this?

Still, the majority of Wade’s hardcore followers remained dismissive. Several editors, eager to curry favor with the veteran master, published scathing reviews of Xie Anning’s work. Since no work is perfect, they nitpicked every minor flaw they could find.

The most common criticism was that the story “wasn’t tragic enough,” with some calling it a “fraudulent” departure from the magazine’s established style. Others, blinded by prejudice, simply didn’t have the patience to get past the opening chapters before running off to post more insults.

Amidst this chaotic storm, the latest popularity rankings were released.

Wade, as expected, held the number one spot. However, Ning Xie’s new serial had debuted at a staggering third place. It was a shock to the system. Despite a flood of negative reviews, the positive feedback was neck-and-neck.

The editorial department struggled to make sense of the data.

“How is this possible? With Wade’s fanbase boycotting him so aggressively, how did he hit number three?”

“I’ve read Ning Xie’s draft, it is genuinely excellent. But the serialized portion hasn’t even hit the tragic elements yet. Why are so many people voting for it?”

“Perhaps he’s garnered some sympathy from the general public.”

The Chief Editor frowned slightly; the situation was veering off-script. “His writing is undeniable—I wouldn’t have given him the slot otherwise. If his work were actually bad, our magazine’s reputation would be in the gutter. Besides, Wade is currently in a transitional arc with less intense action. It’s only natural for some readers to drift.”

The staff nodded, finding the explanation reasonable. In their minds, it was simply impossible for a newcomer like Ning Xie to actually pull off an upset and surpass a “Great God” like Wade.

“We’ll just have to see how it develops from here.”

Editor Xixi excitedly reported the news to Xie Anning.

This news was exactly what he expected.

Xie Anning allowed himself a small smile. After all, he had poured a significant amount of effort into this project; if he couldn’t even achieve this much, he might as well quit the industry altogether.

Without delay, he sent over the subsequent chapters he had finished drafting during this period.

From beginning to end, Xie Anning hadn’t bothered to check the online comments or see how people were critiquing him. In his eyes, those opinions were trivial.

The only thing that truly mattered was the quality of the writing. As long as his work was exceptional, the audience wasn’t blind—they would naturally recognize its value. Besides, this magazine was merely a stepping stone for the start of his career.

Meanwhile, Wade’s die-hard fans were absolutely livid after seeing the latest popularity rankings.

They couldn’t fathom how a newcomer could achieve such results. Was he buying votes? It seemed plausible; someone with that kind of backing had already thrown so much money around, so what was a little more? To them, this “pay-to-win” player was crossing the line.

Wade shared their sentiment. He scoffed at the newcomer’s arrogance—imagine trying to out-hype a veteran without any real substance to back it up. He was convinced the fall would be even more spectacular when it finally happened, and he was more than happy to sit back and watch the show.

However, while these fans continued to rain insults down on Ning Xie, they failed to notice that the crowd joining them was steadily thinning.

One by one, the detractors were accidentally falling into the “trap” of Ning Xie’s new story. Once they actually started reading, they found it far too embarrassing to keep insulting him. The main problem? It was just too good.

In the blink of an eye, a month had passed. Xie Anning’s story had finally reached a massive turning point.