CHAPTER 278: CHAPTER 278: COULD THE ACCOUNT HAVE BEEN HACKED?

Wan Shaohu wreaked havoc on the balcony but found nothing of value.

He was about to head back to the bedroom when the doorbell rang in the living room.

He went to the door and peered through the peephole. Sang Ning was standing outside, staring expressionlessly at the door.

Wan Shaohu felt a chill run down his back. Sang Ning looked eerily like a vengeful ghost coming to claim lives in the dead of night. His hand trembled slightly as he opened the door. "What is it now?"

Sang Ning stepped sideways into the door to avoid disturbing the neighbors, "I just remembered, your housing complex is too high-end—I don’t have access clearance. You’ll have to drive me home."

What the hell, shameless!

Wan Shaohu almost wanted to point at Sang Ning’s nose and curse her out.

"Sang Ning, how can you be so thick-skinned? It’s the middle of the night and you won’t let me get any peace. What do you take me for?" Wan Shaohu said angrily.

"Obviously, I take you as a tool," Sang Ning replied with no hint of guilt on her face. "You owe me this. After all, you and the program team were part of the effort to smear me."

Wan Shaohu felt guilty. The program team did screw over Sang Ning, but wasn’t their hand forced too?

In the end, under Sang Ning’s insistence, Wan Shaohu had no choice but to drive her home. On his way back, he thought he even heard the sound of roosters crowing.

Damn it, this screwed-up life. Wan Shaohu decided he’d quit tomorrow. This trash program had already fallen apart; from mentors to contestants, it was a complete mess without any hope of becoming something notable.

After getting home, Sang Ning fought off her fatigue and rinsed up quickly.

Once nestled in bed, she fired off a message to Li Juezhou before putting her phone on silent mode, officially entering sleep.

Li Juezhou, lying in bed that night, had remained in light sleep the whole time. The moment he heard his WeChat alert tone, he awakened instantly—that was the notification sound he’d set exclusively for Sang Ning.

[Task progress: 50%. Once progress hits 100%, I’ll give you a big kissy-muah.]

Seeing Sang Ning’s WeChat message, Li Juezhou tapped his forehead lightly and chuckled helplessly.

Other couples’ relationships usually involve the boyfriend doing something to make the girlfriend happy before getting rewarded with some affection.

But in his case, he clearly hadn’t done anything and still received Sang Ning’s reward.

Although he knew deep down that Sang Ning was just humoring him, it was already enough to make him happy.

Indeed, making his girlfriend feel satisfied and valued was paramount.

As long as Sang Ning was happy, then he could bask in her joy too.

**

Online.

Under the deliberate machinations of certain parties, the dirt on Sang Ning continued to escalate.

After waking from her sleep, Sang Ning discovered that the online rumors had taken an absurd turn.

This time, it was explicit rumors—a low-bar method often used to smear female celebrities in the industry. Many female stars had encountered similar rumors before.

The content of the rumors was predictable: Sang Ning was allegedly kept by a mysterious mogul, and her success in securing the lead role in *Female Grandmaster* was thanks to hopping into the mogul’s bed.

The rumor-mongering post was highly detailed and even included an AI-generated image purportedly showing Sang Ning entering a high-end club.

The poster of the rumors knew not to go too far; there were no explicit composite images beyond this photo, but even this single picture gave onlookers plenty of fodder for speculation.

A crowd of people beneath the post cursed Sang Ning, accusing her of being both fake and filthy.

Sang Ning had become immune to such smear campaigns. A corner of the internet was always filled with stinking trolls who, even if you presented them with evidence refuting their claims, would stubbornly cling to what they wanted to believe.

So Sang Ning abandoned any attempt to prove her innocence, deciding instead to go berserk. She used her verified Weibo account to comment directly on the rumor post.

Mildly Sang-ed: [Thanks, but I’m not the kind of gal anyone can randomly keep. Aside from Hai Chuan’s boss, all other kept-women rumors about me are false. If you’re going to stalk me and take pictures, at least muster some professionalism—I’d like the next photos to show me and Hai Chuan’s boss together in frame.]

After Sang Ning used her official account to comment, the trolls immediately shifted gears and began attacking Sang Ning’s supposed lack of qualifications to be kept by Hai Chuan’s boss.

[I lack qualifications? What about you? Are you prettier than me, or is your figure better than mine?]

[Keep fabricating rumors! Guess what? I can make stuff up too—I’m saying Hai Chuan’s boss begged me to keep him instead.]

Sang Ning realized arguing with trolls was pointless. Trolls didn’t care about the truth; they just wanted to bash you. So after rebutting a couple of trolls, Sang Ning logged off Weibo.

The comments mocking and insulting Sang Ning beneath the rumor post kept piling up.

[I’d like to dub Sang Ning the most delusional person in showbiz. How big must her ego be to claim Hai Chuan’s boss begged her to keep him?]

[Not even a decade-long stroke patient would say something this ludicrous. Sang, you Bitch, get a grip on reality. You’re just a minor celebrity—hoping for the elite to give you a second glance? Total delusion.]

The trolls had their fun, but soon they were left speechless.

Because on Weibo, Hai Chuan Group’s CEO, certified through official channels, had made a post.

[Sang Ning is a female celebrity whom I personally admire greatly. I don’t wish for irresponsible rumors to recklessly tarnish her reputation. Also, to clarify: there’s no financial arrangement between me and Sang Ning. That said, if Ms. Sang Ning were to suggest keeping me, I’d be absolutely delighted. After all, setting aside my CEO role at Hai Chuan Group, I’m just an ordinary Sang Ning fan, and further connecting with my idol would be a dream come true.]

This clarification post caused a huge uproar on Weibo. The industry mogul with over a hundred million followers had never made a single post before; his very first post turned out to be about a female celebrity.

The comment left the trolls utterly speechless. They had insulted Sang Ning, claiming she lacked awareness of her own status and foolishly fantasized about elites treating her kindly—but then Hai Chuan’s CEO himself had jumped in to say he was a Sang Ning fan.

This wasn’t just "being treated kindly"; it had transformed into reverence for Sang Ning.

The post didn’t just slap the trolls in the face; it also indirectly dispelled the salacious rumors about Sang Ning.

Anyone in the know understood that Qin Jiaxiang’s new movie had financial backing from Hai Chuan. The CEO personally posting such a message clearly indicated something—this was a case of unabashedly chasing stars.

When someone invests in a film to have their idol as the lead, what’s the problem?

Moreover, Sang Ning was undeniably capable across the board, leaving no grounds for criticism.

The Hai Chuan CEO’s Weibo account had followers from all walks of life, even including industry elites.

#HaiChuanCEOStarChasingPost# quickly became the top trending topic, overshadowing all other entries.

The gossiping masses experienced a strange sense of satisfaction—so even CEOs of big companies were fans? Suddenly, the seemingly lofty Hai Chuan Group felt surprisingly down-to-earth.

In the midst of fervent discussions, some voices of doubt emerged: [Is it possible Hai Chuan CEO’s account got hacked?]