Chapter Forty-Nine: The Wheel of Heaven Turns; Who Can Escape the Fate Bestowed by the Heavens?

After the latest episode of "Who Is the Singer" aired, it shot straight to the top of the trending charts on Weibo.

With Xing Fei’s master testifying, the accusation of plagiarism against Chen Nian was pretty much set in stone. The other singers, who had long been eyeing Chen Nian and hoping to drag him down from his pedestal, immediately swarmed in and started exerting their influence from behind the scenes.

“A plagiarist like you still has the nerve to appear on the show?”
“Take your stolen song and get the hell out of the music industry—you’re a disgrace!”
“You have no real talent. All you do is steal the results of other people’s hard work!”

With the perfect combination of timing, location, and people, plus the sway of most of the music scene’s singers, Lin Xinrou’s brainless fans were truly a force to be reckoned with. Not only did they flood Chen Nian’s Weibo and other social media, but even his good friends—Luo Xiaoyi, Zhou Lu, and others—weren’t spared. In the end, Lin Xinrou’s fans even stormed into “The Voice.”

In the live-streaming room, eighty percent of the comments hurled abuse at Chen Nian. Even Zhou Lu, who usually minded her own business, found it hard to watch.

“This won’t do. Should I talk to the company and have them clean up the comments?” she suggested.

Chen Nian just smiled and shook his head, utterly unconcerned. “You can clean up the comment section, but can you shut up the idle masses? Let them say what they want. I’ve been through worse storms than this—why would I care about a bit of cursing?”

Zhou Lu fell silent, quietly gazing at the side of Chen Nian’s face. Even as a senior in the industry with six or seven years under her belt, she had to admit she admired his composure. If she were being slandered and accused of plagiarism for no reason, she’d probably be jumping up and down in anger, wishing she could tear her accuser to pieces.

“What’s your next move, then? Are you just going to let Lin Xinrou take advantage of you?”

“No rush. Karma always circles back around. What’s coming will come—she can’t escape it.” Chen Nian smiled, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

That look made Zhou Lu shiver involuntarily. In that moment, she felt profoundly grateful to be Chen Nian’s teammate, not his enemy. To be his enemy must be an unbearable experience.

Seeing how unbothered Chen Nian was, Lin Xinrou’s brainless fans grew even more agitated. After all, he’d plagiarized their goddess and still acted so indifferent and blasé. In the end, their insults escalated to outright personal attacks.

Under the influence of these rabid fans, when Chen Nian performed “Cinderella” again on stage, he only managed to take third place, losing to Zhou Lu and the up-and-coming singer Hua Chenyu.

“Director Mo Fan, the show’s ratings have dropped again,” the assistant director said, pushing open the door to the lounge with a long face.

“This Chen Nian really is a double-edged sword. He’s both our fortune and our downfall. I knew having too much hype would backfire,” the assistant director grumbled, looking exasperated.

Mo Fan just smiled calmly, unfazed. “Aren’t you worried, Director Mo?” the assistant pressed. “The show’s almost finished filming. If the ratings don’t bounce back, it’ll be a disaster!”

“Relax,” Mo Fan replied with complete confidence. “Chen Nian won’t go down so easily.”

After the lesson learned last time, Mo Fan now had full faith in Chen Nian. As for Lin Xinrou? She was just a minor figure—an idol who thrived on negative attention. Did she really think she could shake the status of a genius like Chen Nian? What a joke. Wishful thinking!

“I’m furious! Absolutely furious!” When Chen Nian got home, Wei Xi was sitting on the sofa, watching the replay of this episode of “The Voice.”

Ever since she found out Chen Nian lived here, Wei Xi had rented an apartment in the same complex. She would often drop by, pestering Chen Nian to teach her calligraphy, or unabashedly freeloading off his food and drink. Without realizing it, she had become one of the few regular guests in his home.

When Chen Nian walked in, Wei Xi shot up from the sofa in a single, agile motion, exposing a sliver of fair skin around her waist. Chen Nian dutifully averted his gaze.

“Why? Why on earth? Were the judges deaf? You sang so well—why didn’t you get first place?” Wei Xi’s wide eyes brimmed with confusion.

Chen Nian smiled. Wei Xi was born into a prominent family in the capital and had been sheltered by her elders since childhood. Naturally, she had no idea about the treacherous nature of the entertainment industry. Since she was unaware, Chen Nian had no desire to sully her innocent heart.

“Did you finish the calligraphy practice I gave you before I left?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Wei Xi nodded and produced the practice book Chen Nian had prepared for her. To finish it, she had even missed the live broadcast of “The Voice,” and was now watching the recorded version on her phone.

“Good.” Chen Nian nodded in satisfaction as he looked over her work. To be fair, Wei Xi truly had a gift for calligraphy, and with his guidance, her progress had been remarkable.

“So, does this mean I’m your disciple now?” Hearing Chen Nian’s praise, Wei Xi dropped the subject of “The Voice” rankings and grinned.

Chen Nian said nothing, lightly tapping her head with the booklet.

“I never said I’d take you as my disciple.”

“Then why are you teaching me calligraphy?” Wei Xi pouted, rubbing her head in protest.

“Because your father is Wei Yancheng,” Chen Nian answered without hesitation.

“You—!” Wei Xi glared at him, sharp-eyed. After staring each other down for half a minute, she brushed past him and left the apartment.

A moment later, she returned with her head lowered.

“What is it?” Chen Nian asked, amused by the sight of her.

“I’m hungry,” Wei Xi declared, looking up with quiet fierceness. Since the recording of “The Voice” had begun, she hadn’t eaten all evening.

Chen Nian gave a wry smile and leisurely cooked a bowl of noodles, setting it on the table. Without a second thought, Wei Xi began to wolf it down.

Just then, Xing Fei, fresh from the recording, called Chen Nian.

“Hello, Master? For the next episode—the Singer Invitational—I want to invite you to sing with me.”

Like “Who Is the Singer,” “The Voice” was nearing its end. Once this duet episode was over, it would be time for the “Who Is the Singer” finale.

Chen Nian smiled at the news, his eyes glinting with intrigue.

“Are you sure Xing Fei’s master will be there to sing with her next episode?” Lin Xinrou slapped the table, her tone excited when she heard the news.

Manager Sister Mei nodded. “The production team has confirmed it. The list is out—it’s set.”

A slow smile spread across Lin Xinrou’s face, her excitement barely contained. At last, fortune was turning her way. Once she took down Xing Fei’s master, what would Chen Nian be worth anymore…