Chapter 425: A Terrifying Scheme That Covers the Entire Internet!

Chapter 425: A Terrifying Scheme That Covers the Entire Internet!

After so many years in the business, An Menglan understood online buzz very well. Whenever she released a new song, she promoted it online too, inviting online musicians to repost it and share their opinions.

When it came to buzz, there was no such thing as too much.

That was how she could tell that paid online accounts were helping push this wave along. A huge number of major music influencers had reposted and commented on Morning Mist’s “Genius Superstar.”

But.

Paid accounts and reposts alone could never generate heat like this. It was impossible.

The numbers were simply too high.

Being number one on trending was one thing. Being number one with several times the heat of number two was something else entirely.

Clearly the paid promotion had only fanned the flames and sped things up. Most of the attention came from the song itself.

Its controversy had exploded.

It had shaken the entire internet.

In his new song, Morning Mist rapped at a speed beyond human limits while savaging the current Chinese-language music scene, and he had touched off a sensational storm of controversy.

Many well-known musicians had already waded in personally, posting their own takes and rebutting what Morning Mist said in the song.

Some called him trash outright: one hit song, and already this arrogant.

Online opinion had split cleanly into two camps.

On one side were the fans Morning Mist had built up with his first song, “Antidote for the Soul.” They were all backing him, battling people across comment sections, defending him and echoing his views.

On the other side were the fans of other singers, An Menglan’s included. They were tearing into Morning Mist too. Trash! Get out of the entertainment industry! Way too arrogant! Talented, maybe, but zero character! And on and on.

The second camp outnumbered the first by dozens to one.

It was almost entirely one-sided.

In other words, “Genius Superstar” had set off a wave of abuse across the whole internet. Every fandom had mobilized. It was all-out war.

And yet, strangely, no one dared deny that the song itself was excellent. Some of the more levelheaded musicians had even written long posts reviewing it.

Composition, lyrics, vocals: every part of it was outstanding.

The vocals above all. That astonishing twenty-seven-second rap in the chorus had left everyone in awe.

But.

Even at the end of those long, reasoned reviews, the musicians still had harsh words for Morning Mist himself.

He was far, far too arrogant. Picking fights with heaven, earth, and every musician online, and on only his second song! Famous musicians with hundreds of excellent songs to their names wouldn’t dare say things like that. What gave him the right?!

Some musicians had even posted open challenges, demanding that Morning Mist show his face and go head to head with them in live songwriting. Masses of fans had rallied behind those challenges.

One reaction in particular deserved mention.

The rap scene’s.

Rap was niche, with its own circles and its own fanbase.

Several of the most famous rap heavyweights online had already spoken up, and every last one of them—

Was backing Morning Mist.

They didn’t care that his new song attacked people. To a rapper, if you could diss your opponent, you were good. If you could tear your opponent apart without a single dirty word and leave them speechless, you were a heavyweight. You were the best there was.

Every rapper was stunned.

A twenty-seven-second chorus averaging sixteen characters a second, every syllable clear, the rhythm hard-hitting, the vocal pressure so immense it cut right through the backing track. World-class, without question.

In the words of the famous rapper “Black Pomegranate,” Morning Mist was the king of Chinese-language rap.

There was more.

The underground rapper Liu Caesar, currently hailed in the scene as the “Rap Emperor,” had put up a Weibo post of his own about it.

Just three words.

He is God!

Along with an image from the internet: a figure seen from behind, kneeling in worship.

A blunt, simple declaration of reverence for Morning Mist.

Strictly speaking, “Genius Superstar” wasn’t a pure rap song. Only part of it was, and its style mixed a whole range of genres. Even so, it had won the backing of rappers across the internet, and they were bringing their fans along with them.

In the rap scene, where the feuds never stopped, that was extraordinarily rare.

Mostly because he was too strong. Too fierce. With “Genius Superstar” alone, Morning Mist had lifted Chinese-language rap to a height that even the scene’s biggest names couldn’t reach.

He had broken the ceiling.

Even so.

His supporters were still a minority. The overwhelming majority of fandoms were cursing him. The song was too good to attack and the vocals too impressive to criticize, so they attacked the man. They went straight for the singer.

In truth, though, supporters and haters alike made up only a small slice of the internet. Most people were simply onlookers, enjoying the drama.

And what drama it was. They were having the time of their lives. Onlookers turned up in every comment section. Some picked sides. Some didn’t. Some only talked about the song itself.

“Who does he think he is? If Morning Mist’s so damn great, why doesn’t he just fly off to heaven?”

“He actually says in the song that every musician’s been blinded and Chinese-language music has no tomorrow. Morning Mist, if you’re so damn good, show your face! Write a few more songs!”

“Two songs catch on and he thinks he’s hot shit? Pah!”

“Calling himself a genius and a superstar? Has he got no shame?”

“If you’re so great, put out an album! Quit running your mouth! Disgusting!”

“Great song! Trash person!”

“Talent? You haven’t got a damn ounce of it!”

An Menglan was reading the comments under a long post by a musician. Abuse aimed at Morning Mist was everywhere.

It worried her.

Yes, this unprecedented wave of attention had swamped everything else. But it was far too negative. Just as she had feared, the song had come out, and the controversy really was enormous.

Infamy was no easy burden to carry.

Some people got famous by making fools of themselves, so famous that everyone knew their names. That was no good thing. The more famous they got, the worse it was.

Frowning faintly, she kept scrolling through Weibo.

She kept reading.

And she couldn’t shake the sense that something was off. But maybe she was too anxious, because she simply couldn’t pin down what.

Bang!

The office door was shoved open.

Yu Xiaohu came rushing in. This time he hadn’t even knocked. He was plainly in a hurry, a tablet in his hand and a look on his face that seemed… excited? Thrilled?

“Teacher Xiaohu, you haven’t gone home to rest yet?” An Menglan looked up.

“Miss An, answer one question for me!” He strode toward the desk, his voice charged, then said it again. “Please answer me seriously. One question!”

“Hm?” She froze, with no idea what had gotten into him. “Teacher Xiaohu, what is it? Go ahead and ask.”

“You said all seven songs on your new album were written by Morning Mist. Is that true? Tell me honestly. Is it really true?” He asked it again and again.

It seemed to matter to him enormously.

She stared at him a moment, then gave a helpless little smile. “Teacher Xiaohu, when have I ever lied to you? It was him. One hundred percent. He wrote all seven songs on the spot, right in front of me!”

“It really was him?” He needed to hear it once more.

“It really was him!” She nodded firmly.

Yu Xiaohu broke into a grin, then into excited laughter, and even started pacing back and forth.

“Hahahahahaha! It’s done! It’s going to work! Morning Mist… he’s a goddamn genius! A genius! A genius!” He was so worked up he could barely contain himself.

That only left An Menglan more confused. She knew he could be very emotional at times, a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, but what was all this about?

“Teacher Xiaohu, what do you mean, it’s going to work?” she couldn’t help asking.

“The songs! Your new album!” he said at once. When he saw she still didn’t follow, he looked surprised. “You don’t see it? The whole internet’s cursing Morning Mist right now, questioning his talent as a songwriter. And your songs were written by him!”

An Menglan blinked twice.

Then she went still.

She understood.

The thing that had felt wrong all along suddenly clicked into place.

Wu Chen’s abilities had always been beyond her imagining. She hadn’t expected him to stir up the whole internet this time either. Single-handedly, he had detonated public opinion across the web and gotten everyone cursing him, doubting him.

Good or bad aside, the sheer skill it took to do that was almost unimaginable.

One turn of his hand summoned clouds; the next brought rain.

And she suddenly understood that Wu Chen wasn’t merely drawing the internet’s attention.

He was setting a trap for the entire internet.

A scheme blanketing the whole Chinese-language web.

Release the song.

Insult everyone.

The song was good. The performance was good. Neither could be attacked.

So the man got attacked.

His talent got questioned.

Once that had run its course, most voices online would be doubting Morning Mist’s talent and demanding he prove he’d earned the right to be so arrogant.

And after that, An Menglan’s new album would come out.

The leak had let some netizens hear the songs early, but that was all they had heard: the songs, and her voice. They had no idea who had written them.

And those seven songs were so overwhelmingly good that even An Menglan herself had bowed down to them.

So.

The day her new album was released would be the day Wu Chen ended the whole internet-wide controversy with a single slap, sending every doubting voice right back where it came from.

And that slap would land across the face of most of the internet.

It was a scheme of colossal scale, nationwide in reach, and utterly terrifying.

Wu Chen was setting up the entire internet?!