It started with a single post, tossed into the ocean of the internet without much thought.
"Hey… is it just me, or did Elena Zhang delete everything?"
At first, no one cared.
Then someone checked.
Then another.
Within minutes, screenshots began surfacing. Empty profiles. Blank timelines. Millions of followers staring at nothing but a name and a hollow page.
"She really wiped everything. Every post. Every photo."
"That's weird. She was obsessed with updates before."
"What if she got hacked?"
"Hacked? She vanished for more than a year after that accident. Maybe she finally retired."
"Retired without a word? That's not her style."
The discussion drifted lazily at first, like smoke rising without urgency. Then someone laughed.
"Good riddance. The internet feels cleaner already."
Another voice followed immediately.
"You're just jealous. Her songs slapped."
"Slapped my brain cells to death, maybe."
Soon, the comment section turned into a shouting pit. Old fans appeared, defenses half-hearted. Critics arrived in droves, unloading long-saved resentment with the joy of finally being allowed to be loud about it.
"She's been gone for over a year. No news. No hospital confirmation. No photos. Nothing. That's not normal."
"I heard she never actually got in an accident."
"Oh? Then what happened?"
Someone dropped the match.
"She got pregnant."
The thread exploded.
"What?"
"With whose kid?"
"I heard it was some old businessman."
"Disgusting."
"No, no, I heard it was a waiter at a bar she frequents."
"Shameless."
"Someone said it was a stripper at a bridal shower."
"Did anyone record it?"
Laughter emojis flooded the screen. Shock layered into excitement. Disgust mixed with hunger for more details.
And then, quietly, a new name appeared.
"Don't spread this, but I heard it might be Jin Yang."
For half a second, the internet inhaled.
Then it detonated.
"What the hell are you saying?"
"Our Prince would never touch that woman!"
"She must have drugged him!"
"That witch ruined him!"
"She's already ruined enough men, one more won't matter!"
Mentions flew like daggers.
"@JinYang, say something!"
"@JinYang, did she force you?"
"@JinYang, please clear your name!"
Fan pages flooded with protect-me energy.
"Our Prince belongs to Bai Lu!"
"Bai Lu is real love!"
"They're getting married!"
"Elena's just a dirty past!"
Insults multiplied faster than logic.
Then someone tried to pull the thread back to reality.
"Wait. The accident was real. There was police involvement. Public investigation. You can't fake that."
The response was immediate.
"Rich people fake everything."
"The Zhang family can bribe anyone."
"Who cares if it's real? She's trash either way."
Even praise became twisted.
"She's still pretty, though."
"Men are hopeless."
"What man wouldn't fall for that body? Didn't Jin Yang dated her too?"
"Prince Jin Yang is different!"
"Bai Lu is elegance itself! Elena is just a vulgar body!"
The words stacked higher.
Filthier.
And Meaner as more and more comments poured in.
By nightfall, what began as curiosity had morphed into a full-blown scandal.
Elena Zhang's name was trending again. Not with music. Not with talent.
With rumors.
With pregnancy.
With another woman's fiancé.
With a story for which no one had proof, and everyone believed anyway.
And inside a quiet penthouse high above the city, Elena Zhang had no idea the internet had already sentenced her again. She was busy with something else.
*
Elsewhere;
Soft piano music drifted through the private spa room, slow and smooth like warm water over stone.
Two young women lounged inside the tranquil cocoon, one reclining with her eyes half-closed while technicians tended to her hands, the other soaking her feet with her phone resting loosely in her palm.
Then the phone vibrated.
Once.
Twice.
One of the women's relaxed postures tightened.
"Wait," she murmured, eyes sharpening as her thumb scrolled. A second later, she gasped. "Bai Lu, have you seen this?!"
Bai Lu didn't look up at first. She turned a glossy page of the fashion magazine draped over her lap, voice lazy. "Seen what?"
"This!" Her friend practically bounced, thrusting the phone toward her. "They're talking about you and Big Brother Jin Yang. And that Elena woman."
The name landed like a pebble thrown into still water.
Bai Lu's fingers stilled.
Her lashes lowered slowly. Then she snapped the magazine shut and let it slide to the floor like discarded trash. She took the phone.
Her eyes raced.
Lines of text flickered across her pupils. Rumors. Pregnancy. One-night stand. Cover-ups. Names tangled together like snakes.
Her expression shifted in waves.
Displeasure.
Scorn.
Amusement.
Then laughter.
A bright, ringing laugh that cut clean through the spa's calm.
"So she really won't stay dead, huh?" Bai Lu said lightly, handing back the phone. "I already chased that woman off once. If she crawls out again and tries to cling to my man…" Her smile curved slowly. "I'll just push her back down harder."
Her friend leaned closer, eyes shiny with excitement. "Don't worry. Everyone hates her anyway. Even if she shows her face again, no one will welcome her. You're on a completely different level. That's why Big Brother chose you. That's why you're marrying into the Jin family, not her."
Bai Lu's smile lingered.
Then faded slightly.
"But I don't like one thing," she said softly.
"What?"
"People claiming Jin Yang got her pregnant."
Her friend burst into laughter. "Then slap a post online and shut them up. Tell everyone you're the only future Mrs.Jin"
Bai Lu's eyes lit up at that idea.
She laughed again, brighter this time. "You're right."
She returned the phone and reached for her own, perfectly manicured fingers already flying across the screen.
Across the city, inside an abandoned warehouse converted into a temporary studio, sweat slid down Jin Yang's neck in slow, sticky trails. The final beat of his latest music video faded from the speakers, leaving behind ringing silence and scattered crew movement.
"Cut!"
The dancers dispersed. Stylists rushed in. A towel was draped over his shoulders. A cold bottle of water was shoved into his palm.
Jin Yang twisted the cap off and drank like a man pulled from a desert, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed half the bottle in one go. He wiped his face with the towel, chest still rising fast from exertion.
He spotted his manager standing off to the side, phone pressed to his ear, brow knotted.
Jin Yang raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
Lin Dong didn't answer right away. He ended the call, stared at him for two full seconds, then said quietly, "Tell me the truth."
Jin Yang frowned. "About what?"
Lin Dong stepped closer, eyes sharp as he asked. "Did you make Elena Zhang pregnant?"
The silence that followed felt heavier than the warehouse walls.
Jin Yang's jaw dropped, widening his eyes. "What the hell did you just say?"
Lin Dong didn't blink. "Answer me."
"That's bullshit!" Jin Yang snapped. "Who spread that garbage?"
Lin Dong raised his phone and turned the screen toward him.
Jin Yang grabbed it.
His face changed three times in five seconds.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Pure outrage.
"What dating? What one-night stand? What pregnancy? What rape?" he exploded. "These people are insane! I never touched her! I didn't kiss her! Heck, I didn't even like her!"
Lin Dong crossed his arms. "You didn't deny that she followed you around."
"She did. And I avoided her every single time." Jin Yang jabbed a finger at his chest. "She's not my type!"
Lin Dong scoffed. "You don't exactly have a narrow type. You're a notorious playboy."
"That was before I got engaged!"
"Let's not pretend Bai Lu happened because of divine romance. You're marrying her because you feel guilty."
Jin Yang glared. "Watch your mouth."
"I'm just honest," Lin Dong said, unfazed. "You sleep around but still use protection, right? Funny how that failed with Bai Lu."
Jin Yang looked away and clicked his tongue. "Bastard."
"An honest one."
Jin Yang tossed the phone back at him and dug into his bag. "I'm ending this right now."
"With what?" Lin Dong asked.
"A statement."
"Let me read it before you post anything," Lin Dong said flatly.
Jin Yang snorted. "Fine."
He unlocked his phone.
And began typing.