Chapter Seventy-Seven: Unmasking the Mastermind

As she was preparing to bathe and sleep, Jiang Yunzhu played that song again. She had just finished a video call with Shen Tingxiao, but hadn't mentioned any of her troubles to him.

She trusted that if Shen Tingxiao intervened, he could certainly quell the incident and minimize its impact. But after all, this was her own career, and she couldn't always rely on others.

Jiang Yunzhu recognized the golden-haired boy’s musical talent. She absolutely refused to believe that the spirited young man would plagiarize someone else’s work. Yet, why did the two melodies sound so similar…?

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck her. She leaped out of bed, grabbed her phone, and searched for the song that was allegedly plagiarized.

The song was called “Bless Our Love,” but it was obscure—almost impossible to find with a simple search. Jiang Yunzhu scoured seven or eight music platforms, even bought memberships, before finally accessing the original version. She chided herself for foolishly listening over and over to the edited comparison posted by the blogger, instead of seeking out the original track.

After a familiar prelude, a deep, husky male voice began to sing. Jiang Yunzhu hummed along softly to the melody. Truth be told, the singer’s voice was decent, the lyrics and melody not particularly outstanding, but respectable enough—not the kind to make waves, yet not deserving of utter obscurity either.

As she listened, Jiang Yunzhu immediately sensed something was off! She hurriedly played the song composed by Gerald for comparison.

The two pieces, both in style and lyrics, were of entirely different genres. The blogger’s comparison version had stripped away all harmonies and accompaniments, reducing it to just the melody.

Here lay the problem!

Halfway through the original song, there was an interlude where the melody softened. It was precisely at this point that a subtle discrepancy appeared between the original and the blogger’s edited version.

Energized, Jiang Yunzhu hunted down every available version online. Only the remastered version, posted by the singer on his personal page last week, partially matched Gerald’s composition.

Because the original song’s author was virtually unknown and the authentic track so hard to find, internet users, unaware of the facts, simply looked at the blogger’s posted release dates and edited comparisons, without bothering to seek out the original.

Even if someone did, the stark difference in style would likely result in misjudgment—after all, people with perfect pitch are rare.

In other words, the blogger had used the recently released remaster as if it were the version published years ago, to accuse Gerald of plagiarism.

A true case of “intervening across time”!

In reality, the other party was the plagiarist!

So… was this a misunderstanding, or was the blogger actually the original creator?

Jiang Yunzhu called in Gerald and his agent, shared her findings, and sent them the comparative audio files.

The coffee table in her apartment was nearly shattered by their furious outburst!

"Shameless, absolutely shameless!"

"The other side are the plagiarists, yet they turn around and accuse us? Damn it, I knew their song sounded odd—turns out they copied mine!"

Gerald's face flushed with anger as he grabbed pen and paper to transcribe the original score. Comparing it with his own composition, the two could not have been more different.

Brash in his youth, he picked up his phone, intent on confronting the blogger, but then reconsidered. "Let's send him a legal notice! Sue him for defamation!"

But Jiang Yunzhu shook her head. "It’s not that simple. Even if you win in court, your reputation won’t recover."

"Then what should we do?"

Jiang Yunzhu glanced at his guileless agent and sighed softly. "Let’s borrow his trending topic for our own use."

…

First, create a scandal about the artist, throw them into the eye of a storm, and hire internet trolls for a barrage of negative publicity.

Then, have the artist play the victim, maintain a high profile, and at the climax, present evidence to overturn the allegations—thus crafting the image of an artist persecuted by the industry. In this way, fame and fans follow, elevating their notoriety.

This had become a classic marketing strategy in the domestic entertainment industry—tried and true. However, it seemed to be rarely used in Country M.

From Jiang Yunzhu’s perspective, the local methods were far more abstract.

Regardless of whether the other side made a mistake or deliberately fabricated the scandal, they had given her an excellent opportunity for publicity.

The next day, a series of scandals about Jiang Yunzhu’s company exploded online.

"Has the dragon slayer become the dragon? Once a victim of plagiarism, now aiding a copycat!"

"Will Gerald—the prodigy—have his debut hit revealed as a plagiarized work?"

"Copycats should get out of the music industry!"

After this wave, Gerald's inbox was flooded with endless taunts, insults, curses, and even frightening images.

The young golden-haired boy was starting to crack.

Although Jiang Yunzhu had already warned him and his agent, such a sudden onslaught of abuse and cyberbullying inevitably shook him.

"Please clear things up, boss. I really can't take it anymore. Every time I open social media, there are over 999+ people hurling insults at me!"

Having just secured a new endorsement, and with an online class from school playing on her computer, Jiang Yunzhu sipped her coffee and tossed a stack of contracts before him.

"Here are the endorsements and events I’ve arranged for you. Oh, and a charity performance. After deductions, your income for the next three months will be three hundred and forty thousand."

"Once you weather this storm and your recorded show airs, your appearance fees in the second half of the year will double again."

"When those who insulted you realize they misunderstood, and see you’re truly talented, their guilt will make them your most loyal fans."

She finished, then pointed at Gerald’s pocket. Puzzled, Gerald reached in, pulled out his phone, and saw a bank notification for a credited amount.

"Count your balance and tell me—does it still hurt?"

Gerald actually counted, then shrugged. "Suddenly, I feel like I don’t need to go online anymore."

"And this whole incident has inspired me. A new melody just popped into my head—I should jot it down now."

"Hold on," Jiang Yunzhu stopped him, a sly glint in her innocent eyes. "Here’s a gift for you. Open it."

Gerald eagerly tore open the gift box, only to immediately toss it far away.

Inside were shards of glass, used toilet paper, the word "Death" scrawled in red, and a dead rat flattened by a passing truck.

"Hey, hey, hey, even if it’s Halloween, this is too much! And besides, Halloween’s still ages away!"

Mimicking his shrug, Jiang Yunzhu smiled sweetly, "You should take this box back, photograph it, and post it on your socials… I trust you don’t need me to teach you how to play the victim?"

Muttering about "sly Easterners," Gerald hugged the box and left.

Two or three days later, when Jiang Yunzhu judged the momentum was right and prepared to turn the tables, the very blogger who had accused Gerald of plagiarism reached out to her.

"I think we should have a proper conversation," he said. "About your intention of putting me behind bars, and the fact that someone paid me to make those videos."