The Heiress's Game

On the third day of Li Xiaoxiao's detention, Zhou Xiulan made a phone call to Li Chunjing.

Li Chunjing did not answer.

Zhou Xiulan sent three more voice messages, each fifty-nine seconds long, but Li Chunjing didn't open any of them and simply cleared the chat history.

She sat on the bed in the guest room of Suiyuan, stared at the "Delete Confirmation" pop-up on her phone screen for two seconds, and then pressed confirm.

She found that doing this action was not as difficult as she had imagined—it was even easier than deleting Fei Yang's WeChat.

Gu Yunjin has been unusually busy these past few weeks. She takes Lu Xiao out almost every day, and Li Chunjing never asks any questions.

But Li Chunjing wasn't completely oblivious.

She noticed that Lu Xiao's dark circles were getting heavier and heavier lately, and the folders in his hands were getting thicker and thicker. Li Chunjing would occasionally go in to bring tea and see the table covered with documents.

The text was full of technical terms she didn't quite understand. She had gotten used to being a quiet outsider in the face of these terms, so she put down the tea and left.

While Gu Yunjin was busy, Li Chunjing's work became simpler.

She was responsible for guarding Suiyuan Garden—receiving express deliveries, answering phone calls, tidying up the study, and hanging up the clothes returned from the dry cleaners by color.

These tasks were trivial but didn't require much thought, and she handled them methodically.

When she has free time, she sits in her room reading or scrolling through the news on her phone.

Chen Cui was "discovered" on a quiet afternoon.

Li Chunjing was leaning against the headboard of her guest room scrolling through short videos when she suddenly saw a video that went viral—the video showed a girl in a blue and white high school uniform sitting on the stage of the school auditorium playing the erhu.

The photo has low resolution, as if it was hastily taken with a mobile phone, and the stage lights are dim.

The girl's profile appeared extremely delicate in the halo of light, with her eyelashes casting a small shadow on her cheek.

Her posture while playing the erhu was very upright, and her expression was focused and quiet, as if all the noise on and off the stage had nothing to do with her.

The caption reads: "I declare that I am a fan of this girl's looks."

Li Chunjing was stunned for a moment; it was Chen Cui.

Li Chunjing immediately opened the comments section, and the most popular comments left her dumbfounded.

"I need this girl's account! Does anyone know who she is?!"

"Her looks are truly stunning, far superior to those celebrities with surgically enhanced faces."

"Playing the erhu in a school uniform? What an amazing combination! I've already imagined a whole campus novel!"

"Could she be a student from some university? Are there any alumni who can identify her?"

Li Chunjing scrolled down dozens of floors and found that the comment section had turned into a massive online search operation.

Some say it's from a music academy, others say it's from a normal university.

The origin of this photo has also become a mystery—the blogger who posted the video said in the original post that he saved the photo from an old classmate group, and it is completely impossible to trace who took it.

But netizens don't care about the source. They only care about the face.

Li Chunjing looked through the trending topics and found that "Erhu school uniform girl" had climbed to ninth place on the social media hot search list and was still climbing.

Li Chunjing put down her phone, then picked it up again, and an idea suddenly popped into her head.

She wasn't sure. But she was absolutely certain that Gu Yunjin was behind it.

Suddenly, she had an indescribable feeling—like watching a game of chess, and she had just recognized the first piece that had been moved on the board.

Those who set up the chessboard never tell you where the next move will lead.

You can only watch, you can only guess, and then at some point you suddenly realize that you started taking that step a long time ago.

---

Lu Xiao placed a bound document on Gu Yunjin's study desk.

"Xingyao Media, with a registered capital of 30 million, has a three-layered equity structure, and ultimately controls an offshore company in the British Virgin Islands."

The legal representative is a professional manager; from the shareholding structure to the management team, you can't be traced back to them.

Lu Xiao opened the file, speaking at a steady pace.

"The office space is rented in the High-tech Zone, and the core team of twelve people has all been in place. The two producers were poached from Mango TV, and the person in charge of publicity and distribution has worked on top variety shows."

The company structure, licenses, tax registration, and bank account opening have all been completed.

Gu Yunjin leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers lightly on the armrest. She wasn't looking at the document; instead, she was looking at the computer screen in front of her.

The screen displays a trending search page on a social media platform—the term "erhu school uniform girl" has climbed to seventh place on the overall trending search list.

Lu Xiao glanced at the screen following her gaze and continued his report:

"All the preparatory work for Chen Cui's side has been completed."

Thirty entertainment marketing accounts and fifteen major celebrity-chasing accounts all posted that photo of her in a school uniform playing the erhu, with captions like "Goddess with Natural Beauty" and "National First Love Face".

The gossip posts on three top entertainment forums were pinned to the top for two days, and the comments section was controlled by paid commenters who claimed the characters were completely innocent, without any scandals, and as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

Currently, the total number of views across the entire network has exceeded 400 million, and the number of discussions has exceeded one million.

Her fan club was spontaneously established yesterday. Although it's currently run by paid online trolls, the percentage of genuine fans is growing at a visible rate every day.

Gu Yunjin opened Chen Cui's social media account page.

The account was registered five days ago, the verification information is blank, and the only post is a recently taken close-up photo.

Chen Cui, dressed in a simple white cotton and linen dress, sat on a park bench, holding a book in her hands, sunlight filtering through the leaves and falling on her hair.

The caption was only eight characters: "Thank you everyone for your support."

The comment section below has been flooded with messages.

The most liked comment was "Sister, you are so beautiful!!!", followed by more than 3,000 likes and more than 200 comments.

The second most popular comment was even more outrageous, consisting of only four words: "Jade Girl Leader".

Li Chunjing stood by the study refilling Gu Yunjin's tea, her heart skipped a beat when she caught a glimpse of the four words on the screen.

These four words aren't just casually uttered. What was the treatment of the last person called "Jade Girl Sect Leader"?

That was the ideal woman for an entire generation. Labeling Chen Cui with that tag placed her on a level where she needed to be scrutinized by everyone.

Those who like her will be even more loyal, while those who dislike her will wait to see her fall from grace.

Regardless of the outcome, the traffic will be substantial.

"What does Chen Cui say about the next step of the black-and-red route?" Gu Yunjin asked.

"She agreed?"

"I completely agree. Her exact words were, 'Being infamous is still being famous. As long as I can become famous, what does it matter if I get criticized? It's better than being mistreated by Gu Mingyue's side for the rest of my life.'"

Gu Yunjin did not speak immediately.

"Communicating with smart people is effortless."

Gu Yunjin said, "Especially smart people who are determined to climb the ladder. She knows how much she has to pay to get what she wants."

Meanwhile, on the other side of Macau, General Manager Jin was staring blankly at his computer screen in his office.

His company, Jincheng Interactive Media, is a medium-sized company in the internet marketing and traffic planning industry. They have handled many big projects for celebrities and internet influencers, but this is the first time they have handled a full-service campaign for ordinary people.

The order came through an intermediary last week. The client is a new company called Xingyao Media. The contract was signed quickly, and the process is progressing rapidly.

The release of photos, the deployment of online trolls, the purchase of trending topics, and the guidance of discussion—every step was within the timeframe proposed by their company.

At first, Mr. Jin thought this was just an ordinary project to promote a newcomer. The client wanted to promote an ordinary person to debut, first to warm up public opinion, and then most likely to get them into variety shows or web dramas.

He had done this kind of operation no less than twenty times, and he knew the routine by heart.

But the second phase of the plan sent by the client today stunned him.

The plan consists of three pages, with the title reading: Phase Two Hype Plan: Black and Red Traffic Matrix.

Below, dozens of detailed operational rules were listed, each preceded by a number and the person in charge. The client had already signed the last line, and a handwritten note was added next to it:

"Even negative publicity is still publicity; traffic is king."

Mr. Jin had been working in internet marketing for eight years and had taken on all kinds of deals. He had seen all sorts of backstabbing and unconventional tactics, but this deal with Xingyao made him feel a chill down his spine.

In the first phase, they elevated Chen Cui to the heavens, but before she could even establish herself on that cloud, they planned to trample her down.

Moreover, this pace doesn't seem like an accidental mishap at all; it's an active manipulation of the precipitous collapse of a persona as a selling point.

After flipping through the three pages, he discovered that the client's plan went far beyond this—the initial wave of controversy was just the beginning; what followed were "reversal and whitewashing," "comeback storylines," and "ordinary people becoming legends."

Three complete plans were provided, and even a projected timeline was marked: to transform an ordinary person into a top influencer within eight months.

President Jin closed the proposal and looked out the window.

The sky over Chengdu was overcast, looking like it was about to rain but hadn't.

He wondered, what kind of person is the boss behind Star Media?

Such a person is either a genius or a madman. President Jin threw the proposal on the table and took a deep breath.

"Execute according to the client's requirements." He said to the executive director standing in front of his desk, "Arrange for someone to put the materials in place."

"Which direction should we put the material?" the executive director asked.

"Her academic credentials are fake. She didn't even graduate from high school. She used to work as an assistant to the eldest daughter of the Gu family, doing menial tasks. Now she's changed her name and is trying to create an innocent image. It's all fake."

As President Jin said, "You can figure out how to write the copy, but the core message has to be there—make people feel that her whole persona is a scam."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The news broke at 8:30 p.m. that day.

An entertainment account called "Old Ghost in the Circle" was the first to publish an article titled "Exclusive Exposé: The Truth Behind the 'Erhu School Uniform Girl's' Popularity - She Didn't Even Graduate High School and Was a Fake Woman Who Acted as a Follower to a Socialite."

The accompanying image combined Chen Cui's erhu school uniform photo with a blurry old photo found from who-knows-where, and the accompanying text was a lengthy two thousand words.

The core argument is that Chen Cui never went to university, and the so-called "pure junior" image is a complete fabrication; she is actually a lackey who makes a living in front of socialites.

Within twenty minutes, the post was shared 30,000 times. The comment section exploded.

Some people didn't believe it, some were angry, and some said, "I knew long ago that there was something wrong with these ordinary people who suddenly become famous."

Many people are frantically sharing a meme—a little figure holding a magnifying glass and looking up and down at an innocent girl's face, captioned: "The collapse came faster than expected."

President Jin was in his office, staring at the back-end data.

Chen Cui's topic surged from seventh to third place in popularity within half an hour, with views jumping in the hundreds of millions every hour.

He stared at the skyrocketing numbers and suddenly realized something he hadn't understood before—the boss hiding behind Xingyao Media didn't actually want to promote a star.

That person was doing a business deal, and Chen Cui was the most valuable commodity in that deal.

The initial pricing of a product often begins only when it is questioned.