It's Settled

Logically speaking, eating late-night snacks every day should lead to weight gain, Chu Zhi pondered inwardly. But since the topic had come up, he responded, "I don't have much of an appetite."

Given his current circumstances, it was normal to lack an appetite. Su Shangbai didn't press further on the matter and instead said, "Over the past half month, I've gathered some information that might be useful to you, Brother Jiu."

Chu Zhi invited Su Shangbai inside, and they sat down to discuss in detail.

"Brother Jiu, no need to trouble yourself with pouring hot water for me. I'm not thirsty," Su Shangbai said as he placed a folder on the round table, opening it to reveal stacks of documents—photos and charts included.

"First, about the 'secret marriage for five years' claim. I've thoroughly examined the essay posted by that girl, Li Tingyu. She claimed to be a high school classmate." Su Shangbai pointed to the [Chongqing No. 37 High School Class Registry] and continued, "I checked with the school's administration office. In the years surrounding your time there, No. 37 High had no female student named Li Tingyu—including transfers and dropouts. So her claim of dating you during school is outright fabricated."

"Several details in her story also fall apart under scrutiny. For example, she mentioned checking into the Ritz-Carlton in Nanjing last August. Based on information from fan accounts and Kangfei Entertainment, you didn't even have time to visit Nanjing that month. There are multiple other points in her essay that can be debunked, and I've collected evidence for all of them." Su Shangbai added, "With this evidence, we can not only expose Li Tingyu but also sue her for defamation. I was worried she might argue that the 'five-year secret marriage' was because she was underage and couldn't legally register, but they were living together as a couple. So I made sure to preemptively block that line of defense."

His thoroughness was impressive—even preparing for potential nonsense rebuttals. Chu Zhi examined the documents, all obtained through legal channels and admissible as court evidence. They could easily send the secret wife who posted that essay to prison.

"Next is the sugar baby allegation. This is the hardest to disprove. Even though I've investigated and found that the woman in question is just a director at a listed company, going public now would make people think it's just a cover-up." Su Shangbai pulled out publicly available information about the female director. The sugar baby claim could be challenged on two fronts: first, her position couldn't possibly provide the level of industry resources alleged, and second, her assets were far less than what Chu Zhi used to earn from a single major brand endorsement.

"I approached the director, but she refused to cooperate in any way." Su Shangbai then shifted gears. "Actually, we've been conditioned wrong. When facing accusations, the burden of proof shouldn't be on the defendant to prove innocence—it should be on the accuser to prove guilt."

"The media outlet that broke the sugar baby story was [Belle Gate Gossip], a notorious paparazzi group. Their post relied on two key pieces of 'evidence': a photo of you hugging the director and another of you escorting her to a hotel. But I obtained surveillance footage proving you never entered the hotel." Su Shangbai continued, "I'll be blunt—letting photos of private dinners leak, allowing an artist to escort a client of the opposite sex to a hotel, and then staying silent without explanation—any one of these is incredibly unprofessional. I always assume the worst in situations like this, so I won't even comment on whether someone at Kangfei Entertainment sabotaged you."

His resourcefulness was astounding. Hotel surveillance footage is typically retained for only 15 days before being overwritten. Yet here he was, presenting footage from over two months ago. And as for the director's information being "publicly available"—who was he trying to fool?

"[Belle Gate Gossip] published unsubstantiated rumors, causing you significant reputational and financial damage. With the evidence we have, we can file a lawsuit and win. We'll force them to apologize and restore your reputation," Su Shangbai stated.

"Finally, I conducted a thorough investigation."

From the stack of documents, Su Shangbai pulled out a few pages—a survey commissioned from a data research firm targeting Gen Z, Millennials, and Gen X internet users. The questions were:

—"Why do you believe top celebrity Chu Zhi was a sugar baby?"

—"Under what circumstances would you believe Chu Zhi was framed?"

The answers were brutally honest:

"Obviously? You think he got this famous just with his looks? No way."

"I don't know about sugar baby stuff, but he's definitely been taken advantage of. With his looks and how messy the industry is, no way he's clean. Only fans would believe otherwise. The sugar baby thing is basically confirmed."

"Why wouldn't I believe it? Can you prove he wasn't a sugar baby?"

For the second question:

"If he had a couple of hit songs, maybe I'd believe he wasn't kept."

"Court ruling. Or if he actually had talent."

"I filtered out the more polite responses. Over 70% were like this," Su Shangbai explained, wanting Chu Zhi to understand the full picture.

Chu Zhi studied the answers carefully. It aligned with his own thoughts—once someone was smeared, the damage was done and irreversible.

This was why he had gone all-in on I Am a Singer instead of immediately gathering evidence to clear his name. He himself was the type to believe only what he wanted to believe.

I Am a Singer wouldn't crown him champion, so he used his original song "What I Miss" to advance to the finals. Even if he was eliminated afterward, he'd still have two or three recognizable tracks. Plus, the next episode in four days could win him more fans. During the finals, he'd then release irrefutable evidence and sue both the secret wife and the tabloids. Only then would his comeback make a resounding impact—if he was returning, the skies had to shake!

"Thank you, Xiaobai. This must have taken a lot of effort," Chu Zhi said, looking at the thick stack of documents with a deep sense of security.

Su Shangbai replied, "If you really want to thank me, then promise me one thing."

"He won't ask for something outrageous, will he?" The thought flashed through Chu Zhi's mind, but even if he did, this evidence was worth it. After a moment's consideration, he said, "Name it. If it's within my power."

"Eat more. You're too thin," Su Shangbai said.

The request caught Chu Zhi off guard. Why was this polished, elite-type guy so good to him? Even close friends wouldn't go this far.

"My metabolism makes it hard to gain weight. No matter how much I eat, it doesn't help," Chu Zhi explained.

"Just eat three proper meals a day. That's the payment I want—is that too much to ask?" Su Shangbai said seriously.

"Not at all. Barring any surprises, I promise," Chu Zhi agreed earnestly.

That evening, Chu Zhi treated Su Shangbai to dinner at the same hole-in-the-wall restaurant Wei Tongzi had taken him to before. The food was excellent, and Chu Zhi had remembered it.