Capital cleanup mechanism
In the rehearsal room for the second public performance, the smell of disinfectant mixed with a tense atmosphere filled the air. Yun Heng practiced her turns repeatedly in front of the mirror, sweat dripping down her jawline and onto her worn-white training clothes.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, like a restless cicada. He glanced at the screen. The notification bar was filled with messages from Ma Yang. The latest one read, "Check the forum! Someone's causing trouble!"
Yun Heng's heartbeat suddenly sank, and her fingertips swiped across the screen. The entertainment forum's trending search terms glared like a red-hot iron—#Yun Heng is being kept as a sponsor#, followed by a blood-red "explosion."
Clicking on the post, the anonymous whistleblower posted a blurry photo: Late at night at the entrance of the training base, Yu Xiao's black car was parked under the street light, Yun Heng lowered his head and sat in the passenger seat, and the moment the car door closed, the telephoto lens froze it into an ambiguous silhouette.
The text description is even more unbearable: "A certain amateur trainee relied on financial sponsors to rise to the top. Not only did he squeeze out the original quota of talented contestants, he also monopolized the resources of the prince. In the second public performance, he was forced to sing a duet. The truth behind this is disgusting..."
The comment section has exploded, with obscenities pouring in like a tide:
[I was wondering how he got promoted so smoothly! Turns out he's being kept.]
[Prince, your taste is truly terrible! What good is this bland soup?]
[I feel sorry for the original contestants whose songs were replaced. Capital really can do whatever it wants.]
Yunheng's fingertips were cold, and the light from the screen reflected on his pale face. Just as he was about to take a screenshot and save it, the page suddenly popped up with a "404 error," and the post disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed.
"It was deleted so quickly." A message from a friend came in immediately, "It must have been Yu Xiao who took action. Such speed, the power of capital..."
Yun Heng didn't reply, instead rushing out of the rehearsal room clutching his phone. The voice-activated lights in the hallway flickered on and off with his footsteps, illuminating his flustered figure like a judgment from which there was no escape.
Yu Xiao's private practice room was at the end of the corridor, the door ajar, letting out the muffled sounds of voices from within. When Yun Heng pushed the door open, she saw Yu Xiao leaning on the sofa, his fingertips sliding across a tablet. The screen displayed a playback of the surveillance footage.
"...We've already sent a lawyer's letter. We're treating it as a defamation case." Yu Xiao said to the other end of the phone, his tone as cold as ice. "Find out who instigated this and make him disappear from the industry completely."
After hanging up the phone, he looked up at Yun Heng at the door. There was no emotion in his eyes, as if the bloody storm just now had only crushed an ant. "Are you here?"
Yun Heng handed the phone to him, and the screen froze on a 404 page: "What the hell is going on? What's with the photo?"
"Last week, you had a fever and I took you to the hospital," Yu Xiao said, flicking open his tablet and bringing up the clear surveillance footage. Yun Heng, wrapped in Yu Xiao's coat, bent over palely as she got into the car, looking like she was being "escorted." He tapped the corner of the screen, "The person who took the photo stepped on your shoe three times in the rehearsal room yesterday."
Yun Heng was stunned. He remembered how during dance practice yesterday, someone had deliberately bumped into his ankles, causing his heels to twist crookedly. At the time, he had thought it was just the crowd and hadn't taken it seriously.
"Is it that green-haired guy?" he blurted out - the eliminated contestant who stopped him the day before yesterday and scolded him for "relying on connections".
"That's not all." Yu Xiao sneered and clicked on another surveillance video. "There are three trainees covering for him, deliberately blocking the camera when you move." He threw the tablet onto the coffee table with a dull thud. "A bunch of clowns."
Yun Heng watched him nonchalantly handle the situation, and suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. Deleting posts, sending lawyers' letters, checking surveillance cameras... This man handled this matter with an adroitness that was as swift and effective as cleaning mud from the soles of his shoes.
"What on earth do you want to do?" Yun Heng's voice trembled. "Helping me this way? Making everyone believe what's said in the post is true? Making me bear the reputation of being 'kept' forever?"
"I'm helping you solve your problem." Yu Xiao stood up and took a step closer. The shadow cast by his tall figure completely enveloped Yun Heng. "Those people bullied you, so they should pay the price."
"I don't need you helping me like this!" Yun Heng took a half step back and bumped into the door frame. A cold touch came from her back. "You're not helping me at all. You're pushing me into the fire pit! Do you think no one will say anything if you delete the post? They will just think you're guilty and that you're using money to suppress it!"
Yu Xiao's brow furrowed, and he suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist, gripping it so hard that Yun Heng winced in pain. "So, what do you want?" His voice dropped, a subtle hint of annoyance lingering. "Let them scold you? Watch you get eliminated? Or wait for them to bully you in the bathroom?"
"That's my business!" Yun Heng struggled to shake him off. "I'd rather be eliminated than accept your charity!"
"I won't let you!" Yu Xiao suddenly exerted force and pulled him into his arms. Yun Heng's face hit his hard chest, and she could smell the familiar scent of cedar mixed with a hint of tobacco, forming a suffocating feeling.
"I'll help you get rid of those who bully you." Yu Xiao's voice rang out above his head, with unquestionable strength, and his arms tightened. "From now on, no one will dare to say a bad word about you, and no one will dare to touch you."
Yun Heng's struggles seemed futile in the face of absolute power. He could clearly hear Yu Xiao's powerful heartbeat and feel the vibration of his chest. The embrace was broad and warm, but it reminded him of the gilded cage in the ancestral hall of his hometown—gorgeous, but imprisoning freedom.
"Let me go..." Yun Heng's voice was muffled in his arms, with a hint of despair and hoarseness. "Yu Xiao, what's the difference between you and imprisoning me?"
Yu Xiao paused, his fingertips gently caressing his back, like soothing a livid cat. "This isn't imprisonment," he said, his voice softening, a touch of grievance he wasn't even aware of. "I just... don't want to see you suffer any more."
From the first time he saw him squatting on the ground wiping water stains in the corridor, to later discovering him secretly gnawing on dry bread, to him fainting from hypoglycemia during the live broadcast... those tiny moments were like vines, silently entwining around his heart, making him want to protect this stubborn wheat in his own territory.
Yun Heng's struggle gradually died down. He was tired, and afraid. Faced with the sheer power of capital, his resistance was like a paper shield, shattered at the slightest provocation.
"Do you know..." Yun Heng's voice was filled with tears, and her eyes were red. "They said I was supported by you, that I would do anything to advance... These words are like needles piercing my heart."
"I know." Yu Xiao lowered his head, brushing his nose against the top of his head, his voice filled with rare tenderness. "So I told them to shut up. No one will say anything anymore."
He held Yunheng's face, forced him to look up, and gently brushed his fingertips across the corners of his red eyes: "Believe me, huh?"
Yun Heng saw the seriousness in his eyes, like tempered steel, scorching hot enough to burn someone. Her heart suddenly ached, and she couldn't tell if it was anger, grievance, or some other inexplicable emotion.
The practice room door wasn't completely closed, and the voices of other trainees could be heard in the corridor, vaguely mentioning "lawyer's letter" and "withdrawal from the competition." Yun Heng knew that Yu Xiao's "cleaning up" was never just talk.
"What's the difference between you... and those nouveau riche who use their money to bully others?" Yun Heng's voice was soft, but it was like an ice spike, piercing the delicate balance between the two.
Yu Xiao's face instantly darkened, as if a basin of cold water had been poured on him. He suddenly let go of her hand and took a half step back. The gentleness in his eyes was replaced by surging emotions, like muddy deep waters.
"In your eyes, everything I do is wrong?" His voice was hoarse, with a hint of self-deprecation. "Helping you get out of trouble is wrong, protecting you is wrong, even wanting to get close to you... is wrong?"
Yun Heng was speechless. He looked at the hurt in Yu Xiao's eyes and suddenly felt that his words had been too harsh. But thinking of the dirty words and the labels that had been forced upon him, he hardened his heart and turned away: "We are not the same kind of people."
After saying that, he turned and rushed out of the practice room without looking back.
Yu Xiao stood there, staring at the door swinging open, the warmth of the other person's hair still lingering on his fingertips. The assistant walked in cautiously, "Master Yu, the lawyer's letter has been delivered. Those trainees..."
"Clean it up," Yu Xiao interrupted, his voice as cold as ice. "Also, adjust the stage lighting for the second public performance to highlight Yun Heng's vocals."
The assistant was stunned for a moment, then nodded quickly: "Yes."
Yu Xiao was the only one left in the practice room, so empty he could hear his own breathing. He walked to the window and looked out at the training grounds. Yun Heng was running wildly on the track, as if fleeing from something.
Yu Xiao took out his cigarette case, but his fingertips were so trembling that he couldn't light a cigarette. For the first time, he realized that money and power really couldn't buy people's hearts.
But the wheat that he wanted to protect in his arms finally felt suffocated by his warmth.
Capital's cleansing mechanism is efficient and ruthless, clearing away all visible obstacles but unable to dispel the deep-seated divisions within people's hearts. This defense, which began with a strong momentum, was destined from the outset to be a protracted stalemate.
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