#Jiang Xun's violent tendencies#

On the fifth day after Metamorphosis premiered, its view count passed three hundred million, and the bullet-comment feed had become a full-blown battlefield.

It started with a trending hashtag that appeared out of nowhere late at night: #Jiang Xun's violent tendencies#.

The pinned post under it was a compilation video posted by a clickbait account.

Slow motion of Jiang Xun kicking out Jiang Yu's front teeth, an HD close-up of him grabbing a vase and smashing it over the blue-haired guy's head, a frame-by-frame replay of him snatching Zhao Pengfei's lunchbox in the cafeteria, all paired with eerie filters and horror sound effects.

The title was blunt: "The long-lost young master of a wealthy family is a violent maniac? The worst guest in Metamorphosis history."

The video passed five million views in half an hour, and the top comments were a solid wall of abuse.

Then more accounts joined in.

Someone claiming to be a former servant of the Jiang family wrote a two-thousand-character post accusing Jiang Xun of "repeatedly insulting and beating servants while living at home, and once laughing after scalding the dishwashing lady's hand."

Another person claiming to be a caregiver at the orphanage said Jiang Xun had been "withdrawn and violent since childhood, and often bullied the other children."

Someone else posted a redacted "injury assessment report," claiming it was the medical report of a victim Jiang Xun had beaten badly enough to hospitalize.

The comment sections opened fire. Every allegation had tens of thousands of comments beneath it, so uniform they looked copied and pasted.

[Someone like this doesn't deserve to be on the show. Send him straight to juvenile detention.]

[I feel so bad for his stepmom, having to deal with a stepson like this every day.]

[Violent tendencies are an illness. His family should get him medical treatment.]

[Orphanage kids have no upbringing. A bastard is a bastard.]

The scattered comments defending Jiang Xun were downvoted into oblivion as soon as they appeared.

One comment read: "But wasn't Jiang Yu the one who brought people to block his door and call him a bastard in the preview? Jiang Xun only got physical after being provoked, right?"

Within three minutes, more than four hundred replies flooded in, accusing the commenter of "whitewashing a violent maniac," saying, "Hope your kid gets their teeth kicked out too," and asking, "How much do you get paid per comment? Let me in on it."

Soon, the comment had been downvoted to the very bottom and completely hidden.

The director set her phone facedown on the desk, her expression grim.

After eleven seasons, she had seen every kind of freak imaginable, but this was her first time seeing such a coordinated operation, with paid trolls so obvious they might as well have stamped "paid to do this" on their foreheads.

From the video's release to its rise to the top of the trending list to the takeover of the comment sections, the timing was too tight and the pacing too consistent. It was clearly the work of a professional PR firm.

"Look into these accounts." She turned to her assistant. "See if they're paid trolls."

The assistant paused. "Director, isn't this kind of publicity pretty good for the show's popularity?"

The look the director shot her was cold enough to make her swallow the rest of her words.

"I want authenticity, not to be used as someone's weapon."

The assistant ducked her head and hurried off to find the tech team.

But the public backlash spread far faster than anyone had expected.

Early the next morning, #Jiang Xun's violent tendencies# had climbed from tenth on the trending list into the top three, with a black-and-red "Explosive" tag beside it.

Clickbait accounts began digging through Jiang Xun's orphanage history, piecing together every scrap they could find into a narrative of a "born violent offender."

Relationship bloggers wrote lengthy analyses of Jiang Xun's psychological problems, while legal bloggers explained "what legal liability Jiang Xun might face if these acts are confirmed."

Even a medical education account used Jiang Xun as a case study to explain "what antisocial personality disorder is."

Overnight, Jiang Xun went from a rebellious young master of a wealthy family to the internet's public enemy.

The director's expression darkened as she studied the backend data.

Her assistant hurried back and held a tablet out to her. "We've got the results. These accounts are very likely paid trolls. Their IP addresses are concentrated at three PR firms, one of which has a record of working with the Jiang Group."

The director swiped the screen twice, her lips pressed into a cold, hard line.

Liu Wanying really was ruthless. She was out to destroy him completely.

"Director," the assistant lowered her voice, "Liu Wanying's people called again. They asked if we could cooperate by releasing some footage of Jiang Xun refusing to follow instructions in the village. They said it would give the show something more to get people talking."

"Does she pay your salary, or do I?" The director slapped the tablet facedown on the desk.

The assistant shrank back and did not dare say another word.

After so many years in the industry, the director knew all too well what public opinion could grind a person into.

"Tell the entire crew," she said firmly, "not one word of that online garbage is to be mentioned in front of Jiang Xun. Anyone who lets it slip can pack their things and leave."

The assistant acknowledged her and turned to go, only to be called back.

"And have our official account issue a statement."

"What kind of statement?"

"Say that the Metamorphosis production team firmly opposes all forms of cyberbullying and urges viewers to watch rationally and refrain from personal attacks against underage guests. Make the wording firm. Don't name names, but make sure the people who need to understand it do."

The assistant hurried off to handle it.

The director sat back down in front of the monitor. On the screen, Jiang Xun was still sound asleep in bed, completely unaware that people had spent the entire night hurling abuse at him on the trending page.

She looked at that beautiful, peacefully sleeping face on the screen and sighed.

The kid had a sharp tongue and did not know his own strength, but in all these days of filming him, she had never once seen him pick on anyone who had not provoked him.

Instead, the people calling him a violent maniac were treating a seventeen-year-old child in the most violent way.

The statement went up on the official Metamorphosis account at eight that morning, right on time. Its wording was neither meek nor aggressive, naming no names and pointing no fingers.

Yet within half an hour, the comment section had fallen. Some accused the production team of chasing clout, others accused the director of taking the Jiang family's money, and still others said, "Wasn't the trailer your own production team edited designed to get people to attack Jiang Xun?"

Since the statement went up, the director's phone had vibrated countless times. The station head's office landline, his secretary's mobile, and his personal number bombarded her in turn. She answered none of them.

A production assistant hurried in, wearing an expression like someone who had been constipated for three days. "Director, Duan Qizhao's been crying in the house for almost an hour."

"...What's he crying about?"

"He's hungry."

The director: "..."

It was not just hunger. Duan Qizhao felt he was probably going to die in this lousy place.

He had spent the entire night tossing and turning on the three-legged wooden bench in the main room, unable to sleep, his backside aching from the hard surface.

He had not eaten a single grain of rice since yesterday. His stomach rumbled like thunder, and stars had long since started dancing before his eyes.

He, Duan Qizhao, had never begged anyone for anything in his life. Back in Capital City, when his father called him unruly and defiant, he had said, so what if he was? His family had money anyway. He would never have to bow his head to anyone in his life.

But now he was about to starve to death.

"Hey." He climbed off the bench and followed Shen Wangjing, clearing his throat. "I'm hungry."

Shen Wangjing pushed in the last piece of firewood, shut the stove's iron door, then stood and dusted the ash off his hands.

"The food's on the table."

"That greenish crap on the table is food?!" Duan Qizhao could hardly believe it.

He had glanced at it on his way past and thought it was pig feed. "Is that fit for human consumption? Do you have any idea what I usually eat-"

Shen Wangjing walked past him, hoisted the hoe leaning against the base of the wall onto his shoulder, and said flatly, "Then go hungry."

Duan Qizhao stood there with his mouth open, watching that figure step through the courtyard gate and disappear down the mountain path, one steady step at a time.

The more Duan Qizhao thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt, until his eyes reddened.

But he refused to admit he had cried.

He was a grown man. What were a couple of missed meals? Even if he starved to death, even if he jumped off this lousy house, he, Duan Qizhao, would never eat that bowl of pig feed!