Chapter 1: The Scandal Unfolds Right After Crossing Over?
Chaoyang District, inside a sprawling apartment.
A young man, beautiful as a painting, lay upon a wicker chair on the balcony. His expression was tranquil and serene, as if devoid of all breath and vitality.
Beside his hand, upon a glass coffee table, was a letter weighed down beneath a paperweight. The final line of the letter read:
“No one loves me anymore, no one believes in me anymore. Farewell, world.”
Also on the table was an empty pill bottle. A gust of wind sent it rolling across the floor, spinning away until it struck the wall, rebounded, and ultimately came to rest.
Suddenly, the young man on the wicker chair opened his eyes without warning. Memories surged chaotically through his mind. He gazed around in shock and uncertainty, murmuring,
“Where am I?”
“Did I transmigrate?!”
As this realization dawned on Lin Yi, a wave of nausea swept over him. He bolted for the bathroom, clutching the toilet as he began to vomit violently. The retching was agonizing, and amidst the bile he spat out several half-digested pills, nearly emptying the contents of his stomach.
After more than ten minutes, he stood at the sink, rinsed his mouth, wiped his lips, and stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, confirming to himself:
It seems I really have transmigrated!
Wait, how did I get here?
A flash of pain crossed Lin Yi’s brow, but then he shook his head and chuckled mirthlessly, “I suppose they weren’t able to save me, were they?”
Well, what’s done is done. The past is best left in the past.
In his previous life, he was just an ordinary person—albeit one who happened to have a valuable IP, loving parents, and the means to buy a Porsche with a few taps on his phone between classes. In essence, no different from eighty percent of users on a certain well-known online literature site—nothing remarkable at all.
What mattered was the present.
Lin Yi sighed again.
This new beginning was hellish indeed!
The body he now inhabited belonged to a former top star in the entertainment industry.
At the peak of his fame, he held thirteen endorsement deals, including two as the global face of major international brands. In just four short years since his debut, he had secured thirty-five brand partnerships.
Across all platforms, his total fanbase exceeded a hundred million—with seventy million on Weibo and thirty million on Douyin.
Of course, that was when he was still at the height of his popularity. The reason he was now described as a “former” top star was simple: he’d fallen from grace!
On April 3, 2021—just half a month ago—his ex-girlfriend suddenly posted a lengthy exposé on Weibo, publicly denouncing him.
The post accused him of cheating and included evidence of their past relationship, screenshots of money she’d spent on him, and their chat logs.
In those messages, he even mocked a senior colleague.
The revelation was explosive, igniting a firestorm across the Chinese internet.
At first, his fans were reluctant to believe the allegations. But as his ex released more and more evidence, she even posted a surreptitious photo of him asleep. At that point, the evidence was irrefutable—there was no room for denial.
On April 8, his name was removed from the guest list for the 8th LePai Music Festival, and his image was taken down from the posters.
On April 9, the international cosmetics giant Elegance officially announced the termination of their contract with him. This set off a chain reaction, with brands scrambling to sever ties and distance themselves.
By April 12, under a barrage of online attacks, his last remaining endorsement was dissolved. He was left with none.
On April 14, someone noticed that the Kunshan Beer ads he had once endorsed had vanished from their elevator displays.
His name disappeared from Douban film credits, shopping mall advertisements, social media platforms, electronic documents, and articles—everywhere he had once appeared, he was erased.
On April 16, the flagship variety show “Chase the Wind, Youth!” on which he had been a regular guest, announced its broadcast would be postponed.
Today was April 23—the day “Chase the Wind, Youth!” was scheduled to air.
Before this episode aired, the entire internet was watching, waiting for a sign:
If he appeared as usual on “Chase the Wind, Youth!,” it would mean he still had a chance at redemption, that there might be a reversal. If, however, the show’s producers had also abandoned him, then it was truly over—no hope of return.
The show aired, and viewers immediately noticed: he had vanished completely!
The editors had scrubbed him from the footage so thoroughly that not a trace remained. Netizens were shocked by this move.
In their astonishment, a consensus formed:
He was finished. His fate was sealed.
A fallen idol; the end of a glittering era.
Lin Yi couldn’t help but think: Isn’t this just like what happened to a certain celebrity in my previous life?
Could it be a parallel universe, with two timelines intersecting in this way?
Yet, after assimilating the original’s memories, Lin Yi realized the circumstances were actually quite different.
Because the original hadn’t cheated.
He had genuinely been in a relationship—there was no denying that, and Lin Yi agreed it was inappropriate. As an idol with a carefully crafted “boyfriend” persona, selling fantasies to his fans, how could he secretly date behind their backs? It was unprofessional; at the very least, he should have waited until he was no longer an idol.
As for mocking the senior, yes, he had complained, but it was exaggerated.
He had appeared on a music show where an older artist had made a snide remark about his education, stinging his pride. So he vented to his girlfriend on WeChat: “Who does so-and-so think he is? I’m the one in the center position, after all.”
That comment was certainly inappropriate, but to label it as slander against a senior was a stretch. Who hasn’t complained to someone close after being mistreated at work? People say far worse in private.
At least he hadn’t confronted the senior to his face, nor incited his fans.
He had simply sought comfort from his girlfriend.
Yet, what he once turned to for solace had become a poisoned arrow aimed at his heart.
In fact, he’d even added, “Please, just pat my head~,” after his rant, and his girlfriend had cursed the senior as well. But she withheld those details, omitting the full context and deliberately twisting the story to make it seem as if he’d slandered the senior out of spite.
As for cheating, that accusation was baseless.
After a fight, his girlfriend had blocked and deleted all contact with him. He tried everything to get back in touch, but to no avail. Eventually, another girl—who had pursued him for some time—took the opportunity to get close, and they became a couple.
Less than a month later, he shot an MV with a stunning look. His ex saw it, felt a pang of jealousy, and reconnected, hoping to get back together.
The original, foolish as he was, told her right away that he was dating someone else.
She was furious. “Blocking and deleting you was just a test—a cold war, not a breakup!” she declared. She threatened to expose him unless he broke up with his current girlfriend. He refused, and so the scandal erupted.
Lin Yi rolled his eyes inwardly. “Blocked and deleted for two months and that’s not a breakup, just a cold war? Unbelievable.”
Of course, the ex didn’t mention this detail in her exposé, only the cheating, which showed she knew how unreasonable her claim was.
Lin Yi opened the original’s phone and logged into Weibo. His account was flooded with vicious comments:
“A manufactured star—what’s even good about him? Why are people obsessed with this guy?”
“When his ‘Moxi’ was released, I thought he was insufferably greasy. Terrible vocals, and his fans call it laid-back? The way he interacts with fans at concerts is eye-opening. Other fandoms have no sense of boundaries, but his fans are led by example!”
“Totally expected—there’s always more dirt to dig up. There are no clean celebrities in this industry!”
“Support the ban on immoral celebrities!”
“Cheng Cheng is actually straight!”
“Public figures should observe proper morals!”
“He’s a bad influence on young people!”
Lin Yi then opened WeChat and checked recent messages.
Two chats were pinned to the top. One was with his agent.
“Fang-jie, I really didn’t cheat, and I can explain the senior incident too. I have evidence—chat transcripts.”
“Fang-jie? What’s the company saying now?”
“Fang-jie, are you busy? Can you take my call?”
“Fang-jie, please, let me respond to the fans. I want to explain myself directly. Dating was my mistake, but I truly, truly didn’t cheat.”
The other chat was with his current girlfriend.
“Xiao Xiao, can you come forward and clear my name? Tell my fans I didn’t cheat.”
“Xiao Xiao! I’m begging you, please reply.”
“Xiao Xiao, you weren’t like this before.”
The latest messages were all marked with red exclamation points—his girlfriend had deleted him too. Yet he’d kept sending messages, the final one reading, “Xiao Xiao, I don’t blame you. You’re a victim too, but I can’t hold on any longer. I’m leaving.”
“Sigh—”
Lin Yi let out a long sigh, overcome with emotion.
He left the bathroom, walked to the balcony, and picked up the “farewell letter,” reading it through.
It was a tearful indictment of the injustices he’d suffered—blaming his ex, his company, and the public who had turned against him.
Lin Yi knew, deep down, that the original had tried to use his own death as proof of his innocence, as vengeance against those who wronged him, hoping to burden them with guilt.
“But, my dear boy—”
Lin Yi spoke softly to the letter, as if conversing with its author:
“If this letter is ever made public, they won’t feel guilty at all. They’ll just mock your illiteracy—that you even misspelled your own name. Really… sigh…”
And the handwriting itself was dreadful...
Lin Yi couldn’t bear to continue.
To him, the original was nothing more than an immature, naïve, impulsive child who didn’t know the weight of his actions.
Thoughtless—for daring to date as an idol and ruining his future.
Immature—for sharing everything with his girlfriend, trusting completely, and having no means of defending himself when she turned on him.
Naïve—for thinking that dying to prove his innocence would change anything. Even if the letter surfaced, the public might glance at it, mutter, “Maybe he didn’t cheat, but dating was wrong too,” and then move on with their lives.
The world is ruthlessly pragmatic; there is no real empathy.
He would not be irreplaceable—a new star would rise in his place by tomorrow.
Fortunately, I am here now!
Lin Yi shredded the farewell letter and flushed it down the toilet.
Looking once more at his reflection, he declared, “You may have made countless mistakes, but none deserve death. From today onward, I am Cheng Cheng. I’ll live for you—from now on, I will clear your name and see that those who deserve punishment are punished!”
No sooner had he finished speaking and begun to consider how to turn the tide, than his eyes suddenly flashed in the mirror, and a mechanical voice sounded in his mind:
“Ding!”
“Personalized system now awakening—matching host with custom-built system.”
“Three… two… one! System generated!”
“System name: Beautiful State of Mind System!”