CHAPTER 207: CHAPTER 200: PUBLIC OPINION STORM

In Episode 3, viewers were still fairly calm discussing each stage and each member’s singing and dancing skills.

But after watching the eliminations and group placements in Episode 4, many viewers exploded in anger.

Some people were directly attacked to the point of being utterly humiliated.

Take Zhu Riri, for example—she became the target of mass criticism, not only facing denouncement in live comments but being completely nailed to the "pillar of shame" across major platforms.

Regarding Lin Jiayi’s elimination, many people expressed sympathy, commenting that she "lifted others while pushing herself into trouble."

At the same time, Ye Yuwei’s statement sparked massive controversy; many girls felt she was arrogant and conceited, while many guys thought she was extremely unique.

This is how people should act—they should have the courage to speak their minds. Ranked second, why doesn’t she deserve a mid-show commercial?

The sponsors and the production team dared to "bully" her, so it’s only right to resist.

These polarized viewpoints quickly triggered widespread debate across various platforms.

According to our traditional mindset, one should be humble and cautious; showing off too much could lead you to become the first to "fall short."

There’s no benefit to gaining fleeting satisfaction from verbal disputes. Instead, it’s better to focus on what you’re doing, because in the end, what is meant for you will come to you.

However, many people also felt: This was the production team deliberately suppressing and preventing Ye Yuwei from becoming explosive. If even playing along doesn’t help, it’s better to bravely fight back.

It’s akin to the workplace—you don’t fight or compete, and you’ll only get "destroyed" by rivals.

This level of discussion gained Ye Yuwei a large group of male fans.

Of course, there were plenty of haters too.

Still, the production team was very pleased because this segment brought enormous buzz for the show, including crucial insights into mainstream popularity debates.

The two major trending topics of the day were: "Lv Fangxin collides with light banner" and "Ye Yuwei doesn’t stand high enough."

The girls in the training base were unaware of all this.

But the girls who had already been released from the temporary mountain retreat were well aware.

When they left that retreat, they began to deeply understand just what kind of opportunity they had lost.

Especially trainees who had the skills to make it but didn’t—those feelings of regret were overwhelmingly painful.

Lin Jiayi hadn’t slept well for days because of it. She hated herself for impulsively joining Zhu Riri’s group back then.

Long Zitao had told them at the time not to let emotions dictate their choices.

Many people, including herself, didn’t take it seriously back then.

Looking back now, she realized how crucial that advice had been.

As for Wu Zixuan sitting on the throne, Meng Meixuan’s fans were practically boiling with rage.

In their eyes, what skills does this "sweetheart" have? Why does she get to stand above the big brother?

Some rational fans could analyze her singing and dancing, character persona, and voting rules.

But extremist fans resorted to endless insults and provocation.

Penguin’s voting system also changed the rules.

1. Regular users have 11 daily "like" votes; VIP members have 121 daily like votes that can be allocated to one person or distributed across up to 11 contestants (11 debut slots).

2. The voting counts through Weibo are standardized; each Weibo user gets 11 votes daily, which they can entirely give to one person or spread among up to 11 contestants.

3. For the program’s official sponsoring phone users, this voting channel is exclusive to brand phone users. Each user can cast 11 votes daily, choosing between 1 to 11 contestants.

Additionally, the contestant ranked first on the brand phone leaderboard each week receives an extra 10,000 votes.

This rule caused many to cry out in frustration, especially students, who couldn’t afford the phones.

The bonus of 10,000 votes from the brand phone leaderboard was starkly unfair—a Penguin VIP user can only cast up to 847 votes in a week, but a contestant claiming first place on the leaderboard gains a direct addition of 10,000 votes.

Li Ke was sweating in front of his computer, voting for Lv Fangxin.

Beside him were five mobile phones.

Originally, he only had two phones, but to vote for Lv Fangxin, he bought three more phones of the brand—one for himself, and two for his parents.

Ever since watching the performance during the first public round, he had become completely obsessed—not only spamming recommendations in his social circle but also posting numerous "mini essays" in major forums.

Moreover, he was willing to spend significant money on voting.

In his loosely organized fan group, their discussions largely revolved around "life."

Yes, you read that right—discussing life while looking at their idol.

This was a unique trait of Lv Fangxin’s fan base.

Why does Penguin put so much emphasis on Lv Fangxin? Because she’s the only one who reached a top-three position on her own without a fan club, relying solely on scattered fans.

All the other trainees relied on so-called "fan fundraising" to secure their current ranks.

This fan fundraising was highly manipulable—there might only be two fans for a trainee, but if they poured in hundreds of thousands of yuan, following the rules, the trainee could advance to the next round.

But such trainees have no value to Penguin.

Once the show ends, those people won’t contribute money anymore, nor will they bring any brand expansion potential.

Moreover, the controllers behind fan fundraising are 98% the trainee’s company directly investing money to boost their artists.

Wanting their artist to shine, they’ll pump money into the fund.

Li Ke opened his favorite Zhihu page, and any discussion related to the program included many debates about Lv Fangxin being "undeserving." Among them, one essay stood out:

How do you view Episode 4 of Natural Idol where Lv Fangxin ranks third?

Lv Fangxin’s placement in fourth is unfair to all the eliminated girls.

Any one of those eliminated girls could likely outperform her.

You might say Lv Fangxin is genuine, pretty, or has an interesting soul.

But what is the core of this program? What does it truly want to show us?

Shouldn’t a program showcase positive energy? Just like the production team’s own slogan: "Ride the wind, reverse the tide."

But now, what has the production team shown us? A classic example of succeeding through crying, looks, and lack of effort.

This isn’t just an insult to those who strive hard; it’s a humiliation to independent women.

In the program, we see no trace of her hard work, not even during theme song practice—it was Chen Yanran helping her while she only cried.

And how does it end? Lv Fangxin stands at the third-highest spot, while Chen Yanran is only an auditor.

And Jiang Xijie and the others—what could they be feeling when they see Lv Fangxin perched atop the pyramid?

It would’ve been better not to train, not to put in effort; just get plastic surgery to look pretty, cry, and play the victim to succeed.

Reportedly, Lv Fangxin has many male fans.

Does this mean men today prefer the dumb, sweet, cute type of girl?

If so, all I can say is that some men these days are far too shallow—they don’t deserve Huaxia’s good women.

If you placed her in real society—imagine you’re working hard in class or at the company, excelling academically or professionally, yet in the end, she’s the one who gets into university, she’s the one who wins the year-end award. How would you feel?

Would you still praise her beauty and love her sweet, dumb charm?

No, you’d be fuming with indignation, outraged by the unfairness!

Li Ke read this post, feeling anger rise in his chest.

Especially when he noticed there were thousands of replies and tens of thousands of comments beneath it.

"Haha, the author nailed it. This so-called village belle is nothing but a ’hick chicken.’"

"I really can’t stand freeloaders!"

"Nothing good at all, the master of playing victim!"

"I beg you, please quit! Watching your constant pitiful act every day makes me want to vomit. Your fans are just brain-dead loser men with worms for brains."

"Fans follow the idol’s example. Her fans are all lazy failures with no ambition who dream of success without hard work."

On top of that, there were all kinds of indecent photoshopped images.

These seemingly logical arguments are deceivingly persuasive—they look like they make sense, but every single line is a trap in its own way.