Chapter 48: There Are a Few Remarkably Skilled Noblewomen (Seeking Continued Reading)

After painstakingly donating five million, not even a ripple was stirred. The trending topic was snatched away, and the comment section was filled with praise for Xu Qingfeng.

To make matters worse, Jiang Wei’s fans kept stirring up trouble, turning Liang Fei into a joke among netizens.

Liang Fei was so furious he spat blood. “Damn Jiang Wei, I’ll kill you!”

Even Xu Qingfeng’s grudge against Jiang Wei paled in comparison.

His fan account was slept with, damaging material was exposed, and even the donation meant to regain popularity was sabotaged by Jiang Wei. Liang Fei wanted nothing more than to devour him alive.

Damn scoundrel! If it weren’t for Jiang Wei’s mess, Xu Qingfeng wouldn’t have singled him out—no matter how many people there were these days, Xu Qingfeng hadn’t called anyone else out.

It was all Jiang Wei’s fault.

And Jiang Wei?

He was equally furious.

“Liang Fei, why don’t you just go die? Why do you have to go against me?”

“That bastard Xu Qingfeng isn’t any better. I donated, and he’s the one taking all the credit.”

“Animals! Damn animals!”

“I’m going to kill them!”

All their efforts were in vain. Each had donated five million but didn’t gain a single thing; instead, they only stirred up more trouble.

Neither accepted defeat. Both frantically tried to boost the heat of their own donation trending topics, only to be met with a message saying the operation was temporarily unavailable—no strengthening allowed.

Of course, they could still artificially inflate comments and views to raise their rankings.

Both agreed, but since their mutual hatred ran deep, while pumping out positive comments for themselves, they didn’t forget to post negative ones about the other.

Netizens were nearly rolling on the floor laughing.

Watching their fans go wild, even Xu Qingfeng wasn’t spared.

Yet the trending topic’s heat stubbornly refused to rise. Meanwhile, the donations by the “Black and White Impermanence” duo gained more and more traction, with the comment section displaying typical polarizing opinions—some praising them to the skies, others wishing them a thousand deaths.

“Donation is a good deed and deserves encouragement.”

“Putting aside personal character, Fengshen handled this brilliantly.”

“Don’t be shameless, feeding off others’ blood and sweat.”

“A donation can’t cover up your shamelessness!”

“Just riding the hype.”

Despite the insults, the trending heat surged relentlessly.

In the end, except for the paid commenters, hardly anyone mentioned that Jiang Wei and Liang Fei had also donated five million.

Their aggressive maneuvering turned out to be all bark and no bite. Seeing the results, the “Black and White Impermanence” team was ecstatic—they were participants too, fully engaged.

“Only the King of Hell can spend others’ money for his own agenda.”

“Killing three birds with one stone, Fengshen is something else.”

“Is this what uneducated folks do?”

The entire entertainment circle was nearly in stitches.

“Two fools—one dumb enough to hang himself, the other dumb enough to be put in a museum.”

“Money spent but got nothing in return.”

“Idiots, actually believing donating would solve anything.”

Then someone suddenly asked, “If that person tags you like this during their livestream, would you donate?”

The chat fell silent.

Once the King of Hell calls you out, who can escape unscathed?

Probably just like Jiang Wei and the others—losing money to avoid disaster.

That afternoon, Shan Ying launched the event “Find the Best Duet Partner for ‘Liang Liang’!”

The entry method was simple—upload a singing video on Shan Ying with the event hashtag.

Xu Qingfeng recorded a video in the popular TikTok style, singing part of the song and inviting participants to sing the rest.

All participants would vote in the end to select the best duet partner.

As Shan Ying predicted, within an hour of launch, over a hundred thousand joined.

“Liang Liang” was just the perfect fit—its adapted version was scathingly sharp, the original melodious and artistic, full of buzzworthy appeal. Memes about “Liang Liang” were already spreading online.

Such a song attracted massive attention. A flood of amateur users registered on Shan Ying, watched Xu Qingfeng’s video, and jumped into the event.

Soon, streamers and bloggers on other platforms caught wind and joined in—none of them bound by exclusive contracts.

Then came the professional singers. Aside from a handful of top-tier ones, many were tempted.

But as celebrities, they hesitated to compete with amateurs—it would be beneath their dignity.

“‘Liang Liang’ sounds good. Feels like it’s going to blow up.”

“Don’t feel, it’s already gone viral on livestreams.”

“What to do? Should we contact Shan Ying and test the waters?”

“Sure, if we can get a secret arrangement, that’d be great.”

“By the way, does anyone have Xu Qingfeng’s contact?”

“Are you crazy? Aren’t you afraid he’ll expose you?”

“Whoever wants to go, go. I’m definitely not.”

The small meeting ended there.

Who contacted whom remained a secret.

The duet search proceeded vigorously; by nightfall, over half a million people had joined.

Shan Ying’s downloads surged by more than two million, many still preparing videos.

Some sang mediocrely just for fun, but others truly impressed.

“Wow, I knew there were hidden talents among the people!”

“Who’s that girl? She’s really beautiful.”

“Don’t say that—Fengshen might actually pick a partner.”

“Oh no, what if she really gets chosen?”

“This one’s good too—her voice melts my bones.”

“Aren’t they better than those useless singers?”

That afternoon, netizens began voting. The clever ones even started ranking videos, with views breaking a million.

Once the ranking videos appeared, the heat skyrocketed uncontrollably. A group of gorgeous young women, dressed flamboyantly and singing beautifully—who could resist?

Shan Ying’s downloads exploded again.

The fever was immense, making rivals like Weiguang and Gil jealous to the point of purple envy, wishing to replace them.

At eight in the evening, Xu Qingfeng began his livestream.

Still starting with zero frames, he immediately went all out.

Curious, he said, “I heard Weibo is suing streamers, making them wait all day at home, scared of missing the lawyer’s letter—only to not receive a single one. You get the chance and still can’t deliver? Can’t afford the money? If you can’t pay, just sell a couple more trending topics! No worries, streamers are waiting for you.”

[That hurts. You get the chance but can only talk big.]

[Don’t even have money for lawyer’s letters? Shall we crowdfund across the internet?]

Xu Qingfeng added a jab, sneering, “Your lawyer’s letters haven’t arrived, but the streamers’ complaints have. Let’s see who dies first!”

“Folks, have you all joined today’s event? There’s something I need to say—some so-called miracle female singers actually have the nerve to call into my livestream from thousands of miles away, asking me to help them get the duet rights for ‘Liang Liang.’ Damn it, sneaking in through the back door all the way to me—I’m going to show everyone their true colors!”

The livestream instantly erupted.

Viewers’ biggest fear was that the duet search was just a gimmick, secretly prearranged for some insider, making everyone else a fool.

They never expected someone to dare expose this so openly, and even more so that Xu Qingfeng would openly call them out live.

[Fengshen is awesome!]

[Who are they?]

[Name names!]

“Damn it, trying to sneak in through the back door!”

“Hurry up, I want to see who’s shameless enough!”

“Wow, it’s this exciting right from the start?”

Xu Qingfeng put on his glasses with righteous indignation, instantly energizing the audience.

[Time to hunt!]

[Here we go, start naming names!]