Rong Ruoyao cried all the way home.
Song Huai kept handing her tissues, soothing her gently.
After finally calming her down, the moment they stepped out of the car and saw Shen Lin, Rong Ruoyao threw herself into her mother's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Shen Lin pushed her shoulders away, her expression stern. "Was that really your secret account?"
Countless short videos had gone viral online.
Every explosive post from that account had been screenshotted and shared everywhere.
Insulting teammates.
Cursing the director.
Bashing the production team.
Denouncing sponsors.
...An indiscriminate verbal assault.
The name "Rong Ruoyao" and the show "Star Dream Project" had skyrocketed to the top of Weibo's trending list.
Her once sweet and charming image had completely crumbled.
Fans felt betrayed and turned against her fiercely, flooding the comments with vitriol.
Some gossip accounts even coined the term "Ruo-ology," drawing in curious bystanders and troublemakers eager to stir the pot... Though she wasn’t a top-tier celebrity—barely even mid-tier—the scandal was simply too explosive to ignore.
Tears streamed down Rong Ruoyao’s face. "It... it was just a venting account. What do I do now? Mom, please, think of something..."
"You—you!" Rong Wangtian was so furious he could barely speak. "You always seemed so obedient and sensible. How could you do something like this in private? And worse, get exposed! They’re saying it was the newly revealed fifth son of the Ji family who dug this up. You’ve offended the Jis! Any chance of our Rong family collaborating with them is now impossible!"
Shen Lin turned sharply. "Our daughter is in crisis, and all you care about is business?"
"Dad, I know I messed up..." Rong Ruoyao wept. "Please, spend whatever it takes to bury the hashtag. I’ll give all my savings!"
"Suppressing the trend won’t work," Song Huai interjected. "It’s spread too far across every platform. The best move is to deny it outright. But in the digital age, someone will trace the account’s login location to Ruoyao’s phone. So... why not say a mischievous child in the family used her phone to post those things?"
Shen Lin understood immediately.
After a brief hesitation, she nodded decisively. "Let’s do it your way."
Song Huai paused, then added, "By the way, the national Physics Olympiad finals are in the capital tomorrow. Will you and Uncle Rong be attending?"
Rong Wangtian blinked. "What finals?"
"Did Rong Yu not tell you?" Song Huai raised his eyes. "The Olympiad finals are this Wednesday in the capital. The school asked parents to accompany the participants."
Rong Wangtian remembered.
His eldest daughter had indeed qualified for the finals.
How could she not mention something so important?
Then again, they hadn’t had a proper conversation in ages. She’d never had the chance to bring it up.
Misreading his silence as reluctance, Shen Lin spoke first. "There’s also a lecture by a renowned mathematician in the capital on Thursday, covering Olympiad topics. Kill two birds with one stone—go handle both."
Rong Wangtian agreed.
Once Song Huai left, Shen Lin called Rong Qing’an’s homeroom teacher and had him brought home.
The bewildered boy arrived only to be met with several sharp smacks from Shen Lin, reducing him to wails.
"Say you’re sorry," Shen Lin ordered coldly. "Admit it was you, that you’ve learned your lesson, and will never do it again..."
Rong Qing’an repeated the words robotically.
Rong Ruoyao recorded the scene.
They uploaded the video to Weibo with a lengthy post: Her younger brother had a habit of stealing her phone to log into apps and harass people. Though he was unruly, he’d now repented, and the family had reflected deeply. She vowed to guide him toward better behavior and apologized on his behalf to all affected parties...
"I knew our Ruoyao was too kind-hearted for such nastiness!"
"Poor Ruoyao, nearly forced out of the industry because of her brother."
"Sibling pairs are the worst—where there’s a golden son, the sister suffers."
"That ‘apology’ was half-hearted. Obvious favoritism at home."
"..."
Shen Lin pacified Rong Qing’an by promising the latest gaming console.
High school life was hectic. After briefly discussing Rong Ruoyao’s drama, students returned to their studies.
Meanwhile, Rong Yu immersed herself in a fascinating book on spatial theory, finishing it in a day with great satisfaction.
Ji Zhouye, however, was mentally drained after hours of studying. Even driving felt like a chore.
Back home, Rong Yu instinctively looked for Duoduo.
Though it was already past 9 p.m., the little girl always waited up for her before going to bed.
Tonight, the living room was empty.
Ji Zhiyuan was still at work.
Old Master Ji was out drinking with friends.
Steward Yu approached. "Little Miss went straight to bed after school, skipping dinner. The maid checked on her earlier—she’s coughing and running a fever. We tried calling a doctor, but she refused and threw a tantrum. Could you check on her, Miss Rong?"
Rong Yu hurried upstairs and knocked softly.
A hoarse voice replied, "Steward Yu, I don’t want food. Please go away..."
"It’s me," Rong Yu said gently. "Can I come in?"
The sound of bare feet pattering followed before the door flew open. Duoduo flung herself into Rong Yu’s arms. "Auntie, my throat hurts... I don’t feel good. I really can’t eat."
Rong Yu felt a little furnace radiating heat in her embrace.
Instinct told her the child was burning up.
She scooped Duoduo up. "Steward Yu, prepare the car. We’re going to the hospital."
"No! I don’t want to!" Duoduo’s eyes welled with panic. "I’m not sick, really!"
Ji Zhouye ruffled her hair. "You could fry an egg on that forehead. Stop lying, kiddo. Uncle’s driving you."
He’d planned to game, but health came first.
In the car, Rong Yu cradled the trembling girl. "Sweetheart, why are you scared of hospitals?"
Duoduo’s lashes fluttered. "Great-Grandpa said... Mommy died in one. I’m afraid."
Rong Yu’s heart ached.
She held her tighter. "Mommy became a star in the sky, watching over you. She’d be sad if you avoided help when you’re sick..."
They reached the hospital swiftly.
Ji Zhouye secured an international emergency slot, bypassing the queue.
Upon entering the examination room, he froze.
The young female doctor looked oddly familiar—yet he couldn’t place her.
"Hello, little one," the doctor smiled. "Tell me where it hurts."
The female doctor's voice was as gentle as flowing water, and Duoduo, who had shut her eyes tightly in fear, slowly opened them.
