When the Heartthrob Meets the Cold-Hearted Ex - Chapter 37

Tang Yeran logged into her alternate Weibo account.

Even her colleagues who had worked with her for years at Yifeng magazine didn’t know that, aside from being the chief editor of Yifeng, she had another identity, a well-known cultural studies blogger with a massive following.

After graduating with a degree in Chinese literature, she had joined the magazine. While her job was somewhat related to her major, the connection wasn’t strong.

So, in her spare time, she had quietly managed a secondary Weibo account, occasionally posting content on classical Chinese studies.

Thanks to her rigorous research and distinctive writing style, she had amassed nearly a million followers over the years.

Though she had grown somewhat lax in the past two years, her niche subject matter had no real substitutes, so her fanbase remained highly engaged.

Tang Yeran dug up a half-finished draft of her Tang Dynasty Attire Special, a project she had shelved earlier and decided to push through and complete it in one go. The materials were already prepared anyway.

She spent two hours editing the draft, compiling references, and finally posted a lengthy Weibo entry.

Tagging the trending hashtag #NewWuxiaCostumePlagiarism which had already climbed to third place on Weibo’s hot search she unabashedly rode the wave of the trending topic to release a special feature on Tang-style clothing.

Her followers didn’t mind her hopping on the trend. In fact, they were just thrilled that their long-absent blogger had finally resurfaced after nearly two months of silence. Within minutes, hundreds of comments flooded the thread.

Tang Yeran’s post began with an overview of Tang Dynasty cultural trends and sartorial characteristics, maintaining her signature blend of education and entertainment.

Her references included Great Tang Chang’an, New Wuxia, and Shining Candy, all properly cited. Her tone remained objective and measured, devoid of emotional bias.

Meanwhile, the team at TunTun was monitoring new posts under the trending hashtag in real-time, ready to suppress and block any problematic content.

At first glance, Tang Yeran’s post seemed harmless just another cultural blogger capitalizing on the hype without taking sides. The initial comments were mostly celebratory, so they let it slide.

But within fifteen minutes, things took a turn.

The first wave of readers who finished the lengthy post quickly noticed that New Wuxia had essentially replicated Great Tang Chang’an’s designs 1:1. Moreover, the elements shared between Shining Candy and New Wuxia as the blogger pointed out were all well-documented Tang Dynasty stylistic staples.

A high-quality post tied to a trending hashtag, left unchecked, naturally gained traction at lightning speed. It went from a thousand reposts to tens of thousands in just fifteen minutes.

By the time Tang Yeran’s post surfaced on the hot search, the influx of viewers included not just her original followers but also casual browsers and concerned Shining Candy players.

The Shining Candy fans, who had spent the entire night battered with no means to retaliate, now saw concrete evidence to fight back. They began reposting the entry en masse.

By the time TunTun realized what was happening, it was too late to act.

Suppressing a well-researched post with over 100,000 reposts was nearly impossible. In desperation, they had to spend heavily again to forcibly remove their own expensively promoted hashtag from the trending list.

If their earlier suppression of posts with mere hundreds of likes had gone unnoticed, this move was too blatant and it backfired spectacularly.

Netizens have a rebellious streak. Some of the initial reposters had merely been joining the fun.

But when you try to silence them? That’s unacceptable. Now, they will make their voices heard.

Thus, people spontaneously started creating new hashtags: #NewWuxiaPlagiarismTurnsJusticeUpsideDown#, #SameOutfitNoProblemUglyOneShouldBeAshamed#…

On Friday nights, everyone was in high spirits. Tens of thousands of people editing their own Weibo hashtags took only minutes to accomplish.

But for TunTun, removing a trending hashtag cost hundreds of thousands.

At this rate, spending seven figures just to suppress trends in one night was inevitable.

Moreover, the issue had already caused a stir online. Simply trying to silence people wouldn’t work, so TunTun began deploying more paid trolls to steer the narrative.

Earlier, when few real people spoke up for Shining Candy, they could get away with using high-quality bots to deceive bystanders.

Now, with more real voices joining the discussion, TunTun had to resort to low-quality bots to inflate numbers. The difference in tone between these bots and real users became glaringly obvious.

Shining Candy players: “New Wuxia’s costumes are copied from Great Tang Chang’an, episodes 3 and 11. Here’s a detailed comparison. [Image 1][Image 2][Image 3]”

TunTun bots: “New Wuxia’s costumes were released half a year earlier than Shining Candy’s. The designs are strikingly similar, Shining Candy plagiarized New Wuxia!”

Shining Candy players: “Shining Candy’s costumes are inspired by the historical reference xxx. Reposting blog post.”

TunTun bots: “New Wuxia’s costumes were released half a year earlier than Shining Candy’s. The designs are strikingly similar Shining Candy plagiarized New Wuxia!”

Shining Candy players: “Shining Candy’s costume designs perfectly match their promotional descriptions, while New Wuxia’s elements clash with theirs. Reposting blog post.”

TunTun bots: “New Wuxia’s costumes were released half a year earlier than Shining Candy’s. The designs are strikingly similar Shining Candy plagiarized New Wuxia!”

Shining Candy players: “…”

Shining Candy Player 2: “Sis upstairs, why waste time arguing with a bot?”

Honestly, though these bots had no valid arguments, they were experts at muddying the waters.

Even though the majority of real users now supported Shining Candy and criticized New Wuxia, the sheer volume of bots created an illusion of a 50-50 split in public opinion, leaving newcomers confused.

While the online debate raged on without resolution, Shining Candy’s official Weibo account posted an announcement.

They revealed Meilin as the wuxia-themed collaboration ambassador and unveiled plans for a wuxia series.

This theme would include seven consecutive outfits, released monthly as free daily rewards.

These costumes would chronologically showcase the evolving styles from the early to late Tang Dynasty, balancing historical accuracy with aesthetic appeal.

The post also teased snippets of upcoming designs just enough to whet appetites without revealing the full picture.

As a strictly professional official account, Shining Candy’s posts usually garnered at most 10,000 likes. But now, riding the free publicity of the trending hashtag, the post hit 200,000 likes overnight.

Players who had been engrossed in battling bots now flocked to the official post to celebrate, leaving the bots to their own devices.

On one side, there was only one outfit and a copy from a TV drama at that. On the other, seven upcoming outfits in the same style and series. The plagiarism was obvious. What more was there to argue?

Passersby who were still catching up on the gossip clicked into Shining Candy’s official blog and were surprised to find such beautiful outfits being given away for free. They began asking: How much storage does this game take? Can it run on XX phones?

Thus, the original battlefield turned into a recruitment fair for Shining Candy, with veteran players from various servers showcasing their skills and posting small ads to attract newcomers.

With the crisis resolved, Tang Yeran glanced at the harmonious scene online, logged out of Weibo, and quietly retreated her work done, her name unsung.

At first, she had thought that a small company like Qianhe, with its unstable foundation, would lose half its vitality if targeted by TunTun’s smear campaign.

When Qianhe remained silent earlier, she assumed they had been gagged by TunTun and couldn’t make their voice heard. But it turned out they had a backup plan all along.

Instead of falling into the trap of self-defense, they quietly worked behind the scenes, rewarding players generously justice naturally prevailed in the hearts of the people.

It had to be said that Su Yang had indeed matured a lot over the years, considering problems thoroughly. She was no longer the icy-faced woman who used to agonize over self-criticisms.

After washing up, Tang Yeran got into bed and habitually checked Weibo and her Moments before sleep. Su Yang’s feed had finally updated.

As usual, it was a nine-grid post though several hours late today with each photo still in high definition.

Tang Yeran looked at the different versions of Su Yang in the pictures. Though she seemed a little tired, her mood appeared to be good.

Yuanbao, who usually kept a healthy sleep schedule, looked like she had been dragged out for forced labor, her eyes barely open. Meanwhile, Su Yang’s watery gaze was wide and intense, as if trying to bore into people’s hearts.

“Narcissistic. Secretly showy.”

Tang Yeran muttered under her breath, casually giving the post a like before happily drifting off to sleep.

At nine the next morning, Tang Yeran was jolted awake by the clamor outside her door.

After splashing some water on her face, she peeked through the peephole to see several workers carrying boxes of various sizes into the neighboring apartment.

Seems like the unit next door was getting a new neighbor.

Tang Yeran had rented here for three years. The place was fully furnished, located downtown though the rent wasn’t cheap, the overall conditions were hard to beat.

The previous tenant had been an elderly woman who was taken abroad by her daughter three months ago for retirement.

The vacant unit, being a premium renovation, had a steep asking price. Many came to look, but few were willing to rent.

The landlord would rather leave it empty for three months than lower the price.

Tang Yeran had once considered moving into that sunny unit next door, but after asking about the rent well, she decided to wait for the “right person” to come along.

And now, bright and early, that “right person” had arrived.

Having her weekend sleep-in ruined was frustrating. After freshening up, Tang Yeran changed into casual clothes and headed out for breakfast.

But the moment she opened the door, she saw a familiar figure.

“Just put the stuff over there, thank you. Morning, Ranran.”

Su Yang directed the movers before turning and waving at Tang Yeran, her tone casual and familiar.

Tang Yeran, however, wasn’t as composed. She stared at the cat carrier in Su Yang’s arms, then at Su Yang herself, momentarily speechless.

“You’re moving?”

“Mhm.” Su Yang handed the carrier over without ceremony. “The movers will take a while. Can you look after Little Gold for now?”

Tang Yeran glanced at the round-eyed Yuanbao inside and found herself unable to refuse.

She first took Yuanbao back to her own home, planning to continue her discussion with Su Yang later.

“Everything was fine, why did you suddenly move?”

And of all places, you moved right next door to me. Although, it’s not like I have any say in who owns the neighboring house.

“Ah!” Su Yang sighed lightly, her expression helpless. “The apartment above my previous place has been under renovation every day recently, drilling for a full eight hours. Yuanbao couldn’t sleep well.”

Oh, disturbing the little kitten’s sleep that’s indeed a big problem. I did suggest keeping Yuanbao at my place for a while.

Tang Yeran glanced up at Su Yang’s slightly tired face and swallowed the last sentence.

Without Yuanbao, Su Yang wouldn’t sleep well either.

But…

“You just happened to move right next to me? What a coincidence.”

“It’s no coincidence.” Su Yang smiled brightly at Tang Yeran, quite candid. “I knew Ranran lived here and went through a lot of trouble to move nearby. So, can we go have breakfast together later?”

Support When the Heartthrob Meets the Cold-Hearted Ex