After Ding Yingyao was restrained, Liu Yutong calmly walked to the center of the stage, her gaze sweeping across the crowd.
"Wanlong Supermarket has always operated on the principles of integrity and honesty. We don’t go looking for trouble, but we’re never afraid of it either!"
"What you’ve witnessed today is a deliberate frame-up, an attempt to incite violence against Wanlong Supermarket. For such underhanded tactics, we will ensure those who lurk in the shadows pay the harshest price!"
As she spoke, she deliberately glanced at the visibly nervous manager of Wanjia Supermarket and its higher-ups, who were frantically wiping sweat from their brows.
"Today, I demand a public apology and compensation from Wanjia. Otherwise..."
She waved her hand. "Take him away. Deal with him."
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Ding Yingyao was dragged off.
And everyone could already imagine his fate—after all, the man had wet himself in fear, his legs too weak to stand.
In the audience, not a single one of Ding Yingyao’s fans dared to step forward and intervene. They all cowered like frightened quails, trembling in silence.
Though Ding Yingyao had many fans, faced with hundreds of intimidating, gangster-like men in black, they suddenly realized their idol wasn’t worth risking their lives for.
Even if a few reckless fans tried to act, they were immediately pulled back by those around them.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"Let’s just wait for the police!"
To them, the girl’s words—"deal with him"—likely meant something far more sinister.
Wasn’t there a phrase like "execute on the spot"? That probably meant immediate punishment.
The reporters, too, were at a loss. They’d never seen such a brazen spectacle before and hesitated over whether to keep filming.
Ma Da strode over, pointing at the limp Ding Yingyao in the distance and shouting at the reporters, "Film! Why wouldn’t you? Get a close-up of this guy!"
"Yeah, yeah—but don’t show our guys’ faces. Make sure to blur them in post."
"You know what image rights are, right? If any of you publishes footage without blurring our faces, don’t blame us for what happens next."
"That’s our only condition. Otherwise, go wild—interview bystanders if you want. I promise we won’t come after you."
"........"
Ma Da rattled off a list of instructions to the reporters.
Some of them trembled with anger. They’d never encountered such audacious gangsters—openly arresting a celebrity singer in broad daylight, in front of crowds and reporters, then arrogantly telling them to film as much as they wanted.
This was a blatant disregard for the press!
Honestly, this incident would explode into a massive scandal, no matter where it was shared.
It might even trigger an uproar.
Yet these people didn’t seem to care.
Though the reporters felt a deep sense of "outrage," they still obediently promised to blur the faces.
As for not filming out of fear? Impossible. This was front-page material—they couldn’t pass it up.
Once the police arrived, their courage returned, and they began asking sharper questions.
They randomly interviewed a few older bystanders, assuming people of that age would despise these gangster types.
After all, many older folks these days hated young people with wild hairstyles and dyed hair.
And these men in black weren’t just dyed—they looked like full-blown mobsters.
What younger generations saw as edgy and cool, the older generation dismissed with one phrase:
"What kind of nonsense is this?"
With the police now controlling the scene, one reporter cautiously approached an elderly man.
"Sir, do you think these men in black are... gangsters?"
The reporter phrased it carefully, not wanting to provoke.
The old man’s response stunned him. "What are you talking about? Of course I know who they are. They’re good kids!"
Reporter: "???"
Wait, sir, did you mishear the question?
The old man noticed the reporter’s confusion. "My ears work fine—it’s my mouth that’s deaf!"
Reporter: "..."
Frustrated, the reporter tried interviewing others, but the answers were all the same—everyone praised the men in black as upstanding citizens.
They helped deliver groceries, fix things, even straightened out rebellious teens...
The reporters’ brains short-circuited.
Hold on—are we talking about the same gangsters here? Or saints?
They turned back to see the men in black "assisting" the police in arresting Ding Yingyao’s fans.
Something was very, very wrong.
These old folks must’ve been bribed. There was no way they’d spout such nonsense otherwise.
Their eyes weren’t blind—first the idol, now the fans?
Just how deep did this organization’s influence run to act so brazenly?
No wonder they didn’t care about the cameras.
Even though the men in black didn’t stop them from filming, many reporters suddenly lost their enthusiasm.
Especially the idealistic ones—their hearts sank.
Hadn’t they become journalists to expose societal issues and drive progress?
But here in Bright Pearl City’s university district, everything they believed was being turned upside down.
Watching the police chat and laugh with the men in black, working together seamlessly—it was blatant collusion.
That night, the reporters rushed to draft their stories.
Bright Pearl City’s Dark Comedy
Arresting Celebrities and Fans in Broad Daylight—Who’s Backing the Men in Black?
What’s Happening to This City?
.......
Yet no matter how many articles they wrote, every single one was rejected by their editors.
The reason was simple: the police had solid evidence. Ding Yingyao was a suspect, and the men in black were merely assisting in his arrest—nothing illegal about that.
The reporters who’d witnessed everything firsthand were furious.
"Assisting the police? Those men in black were clearly gangsters! They even threatened us on camera, saying they’d retaliate if we didn’t blur their faces!" one young journalist slammed his fist on the table.
"Exactly! And those old folks must’ve been coerced too. No way they’d call thugs ‘good kids’ otherwise!"
"The police statement has been released. Ding Yingyao is suspected of using banned substances, hiring internet trolls, and inciting fans to vandalize supermarkets and harm others—all with solid evidence. As for those men in black, they’re legitimate employees of Wanlong Security Company, assisting the police in maintaining order. Perfectly reasonable."
"Security company?"
"Yes, the licensed kind. If you really think there’s an issue, go investigate the company’s background instead of complaining here."
The reporters exchanged uneasy glances. "Investigate? How? Even the cops are in cahoots with them..."
The editor-in-chief sighed. "Bright Pearl City’s waters run deep. Some things aren’t for you or me to meddle with."
The room fell silent.
True—if even the police turned a blind eye, what could they do?
But then, an intern reporter timidly raised a hand. "Then… can we at least report Ding Yingyao’s crimes? Let the public know the truth?"
The editor glanced at them and suddenly smiled. "That we can—and must. We need the headlines."
Right. If they couldn’t touch those men in black, they’d bury Ding Yingyao instead.
The guy broke the law, whether framed or not. Running the story would suffice.
The next day, media headlines blared:
"Top Singer Ding Yingyao Arrested for Banned Substance Use..."
"Police Raid Takes Down Ding Yingyao’s Criminal Ring!"
And the men in black?
Oh, they were just "concerned citizens."
