Chapter 18: Traveling Companions Are Foes; The One Stabbed Is You

The sharpest insults, the finest indulgence.

After posting on Weibo, Xu Qingfeng felt refreshed.

A true gentleman never lets a grudge go unavenged. Xu Qingfeng had no grudges left unaddressed; if he did, he dealt with them right then and there.

He knew all too well the stench of Weibo; the so-called internet cesspool was not just a place for complaints—it was a harsh reality.

Here, all manner of demons and monsters roamed, and nothing that could shatter one’s worldview was beyond possibility.

Traffic was king, profit supreme; this platform had long been rotten to its core.

To reform the entertainment industry, ignoring Weibo would render all efforts meaningless.

If the cesspool was left unfilled, the endless tide of filth would never cease.

Moreover, while others feared Weibo, he did not.

There were countless internet platforms; if not Weibo, there were others to use.

Just as one wave subsided, another surged, leaving netizens completely stunned.

Directly attacking the entertainment industry, especially so brazenly, was almost certain to lead to a blacklist.

Yet, hope of returning to the stage was not lost; at worst, one could become their own capital.

But having just taken the entertainment world by storm, and with his Weibo ban lifted, Xu Qingfeng launched a fierce assault on Weibo itself. This was no madness—it was recklessness bordering on self-destruction.

“Other than awesome, I have nothing to say!”

“Xu God!!!”

“Weibo, why don’t you just kneel and surrender?”

“I envy your courage.”

“This is pure audacity!”

“Keep going, hit them hard!”

“Weibo will forever remember this heavy day.”

“Holy crap, even Weibo is being roasted!?”

“Whose warrior is this to be so fierce?”

Those who had recently called Xu Qingfeng a mad dog felt a chill run from their feet to their heads as they watched this aggressive Weibo post.

Xu Qingfeng had indeed lost his mind.

To attack Weibo, the very platform they treated like a father figure—was this humanly possible?

“Never provoke Xu Qingfeng.”

“This is a lunatic without reason.”

That day, a phrase swept through the entertainment industry: “Don’t mess with Xu Qingfeng.”

Xu Qingfeng earned a new nickname—“Mad Xu.”

At Starshine Entertainment, Zhou Zhengyi laughed wildly.

“Good, good, excellent! Young people have the fire.”

Even he dared not provoke a behemoth like Weibo.

Youth was great; the fiercer the charge, the faster the fall.

Zhao Kaixin watched as Weibo descended into utter chaos.

He knew Xu Qingfeng was tough, but not this tough—lashing out against half the entertainment industry and the giant Weibo platform itself.

“Brother Xu, can you survive this?”

Zhao Kaixin had few friends; Xu Qingfeng was his closest. He truly worried for his friend’s safety.

Unfortunately, he could do little to help.

Unfazed, Xu Qingfeng opened his email, curious if anyone had sent him “submissions.”

Upon opening, he was stunned.

“Damn, so many?”

Within days, his inbox was flooded with over a hundred emails, which he began to sift through.

Many were reports: some on celebrities manipulating fan bases, others on paid commenters, fraud, casting couch scandals, selections of mistresses, tax evasion, fake personas, fraudulent fundraising, and even private grudges among stars.

Among these, Xu Qingfeng found a standout report sent just half an hour earlier.

“I have some explosive material; please see the attachment for details.”

The email came with a compressed file several gigabytes in size. Xu Qingfeng suspected it contained a full set of damning exposés.

He had suffered heavy losses before.

Cautiously, he downloaded the attachment—and sure enough, it was full of dirt.

Most was dirt on Weibo, with some on celebrities.

This data was clearly internal; such information was impossible to obtain from the outside.

“Damn, righteous betrayal?” Xu Qingfeng replied to the email.

The response came swiftly: “Boss, can we exchange contacts?”

A minute later, a message popped up on WeChat.

A cute avatar named “Justice Durian” appeared.

Xu Qingfeng accepted.

“Hello, Boss,” Durian greeted.

Xu Qingfeng asked, “Are you from Weibo?”

“Yes!”

Understanding dawned—no genuine Weibo employee would reply so readily; this was almost certainly a competitor.

“Why send me all this material?”

“We sympathize with the unfair treatment you’ve endured and are deeply troubled by the platform’s chaos. We want to offer whatever help we can.”

Xu Qingfeng’s expression twisted in disbelief. “I don’t buy it.”

“If I shut Weibo down, wouldn’t you lose your job?”

“Wherever there’s work, there are workers,” came the carefree reply.

“I’m not planning to report Weibo just yet.”

“That’s fine; as long as we can help, that’s enough.”

Criticizing Weibo and formally reporting it were two very different matters. Xu Qingfeng had no death wish—for now.

One bite at a time—the entertainment industry was still a mess; reporting Weibo now would be courting disaster.

“Reporting can wait. Boss, interested in streaming on FlashStream?”

Xu Qingfeng blinked. “Aren’t you from Weibo?”

“Oh, actually from FlashStream.”

“…Oh.”

Indeed, a rival.

FlashStream was a rising short-video platform, well-funded and powerful.

The short-video market was fiercely competitive, but no giant akin to Douyin had yet emerged.

FlashStream was just one contender.

Short videos and celebrity entertainment were essentially the same game; competitors were foes.

Weibo remained the leader in entertainment stars, and now it seemed FlashStream had set its sights on that lucrative territory.

“You want me to stream live?”

Xu Qingfeng was stunned.

Since he began exposing scandals, entertainment companies that once reached out now avoided him, fearing the fallout.

A scandal was one thing; no law broken, no crime committed. With his face, he still had chances for a comeback—like winning a lottery.

After exposing Zhang Hongbo, 90% of companies cut ties; after exposing Chen He, none remained.

They were merely hoping to try their luck, not to offend a sure thing like Chen He for an uncertain one like Xu Qingfeng.

No one in the industry was a fool.

After publicly attacking the entertainment world today, Xu Qingfeng was socially dead within it.

Now, with his assault on Weibo, he had alienated both the industry and the platform; no one would dare take him on.

The olive branch from FlashStream was tempting.

If the entertainment industry was to be reformed, there had to be a platform behind it—and as a short-video titan, FlashStream was the best choice.

Justice Durian said, “We trust the Magic City Tax Bureau.”

It sounded strange, but Xu Qingfeng understood.

Others feared the industry; FlashStream did not. To them, the entertainment world was nothing compared to their power.

As for Weibo, FlashStream was out to take it down.

By capturing Weibo’s traffic, FlashStream’s user engagement could reach new heights.

Their only concern was whether Xu Qingfeng would be officially blacklisted.

But the Magic City Tax Bureau had already demonstrated such outcomes; “Tax Model Worker” was a stark example.

“I need to think it over,” Xu Qingfeng replied.

“Understood, no rush. We believe FlashStream is the best choice. Our offer will be very generous, and if you want to return to the entertainment scene, we can invest.”

Xu Qingfeng was surprised. “FlashStream plans to enter the entertainment industry?”

“Yes, but there’s no right opportunity yet.”

After chatting with Justice Durian for a while, Xu Qingfeng had made up his mind.

At that moment, Weibo also responded.