In the early hours of the morning, a marketing account with over a million followers posted a scandalous video:

“HW Streamer Forces Girlfriend to Have an Abortion Just to Be with Top Donor Sugar Mommy.”

The video included screenshots of a viral post from Weibo and was narrated by an AI voice, instantly sparking an uproar among netizens. Whether by coincidence or intentional, the material used to illustrate the “sugar mommy” gifting extravagantly to the streamer was none other than the clip of Mu Wan sending gifts to O Lan as a way of explaining herself.

Misled viewers tracked the streamer’s username from the clip and flooded O Lan’s livestream with vicious curses and moral outrage.

At the time, O Lan was streaming late at night, hoping to earn some extra tips. The sudden wave of hate left him panicked. He scrambled to explain himself, but no one listened. Turning off messages from non-followers brought only brief relief. Soon even his fans began questioning him:

“I checked Weibo—whoa, some of the details actually match up with Ou Lan. Could this really be him?”
“So the sugar mommy mentioned in the post… is Wan?”
“Streamer, care to explain?”
“Wow, I used to think this guy was fun and tipped him a lot. Didn’t expect him to be such scum. Gross.”

O Lan hurriedly denied the allegations:
“It’s not true! I don’t even have a girlfriend, let alone hit anyone or force an abortion. I’ve never even met Wan in person. We’re just online friends.”

But the chat remained unconvinced:
“Celebrities always struggle like this before their scandals blow up. The bigger the hammer, the harder they fall.”
“Hold on—there’s no solid proof that it’s O Lan. The Weibo post didn’t explicitly name him, right?”
“This is just waiting for his apology.”
“OMG, this made the trending topics—#StreamerOLanAbuseAndViolence#.”
“What the heck, could it really be true?”
“Damn it, the Weibo account just confirmed it—it’s O Lan.”
“What the hell? I can’t believe I supported this jerk. Unfollowing now.”

In just a few minutes, O Lan lost thirty to forty thousand followers, and the wave of unfollows continued to grow.

—

The next morning, Mu Wan woke up, opened her phone, and was immediately greeted by a Weibo trending alert. The moment she saw the headline, she had a sinking feeling—and she was right.

O Lan had been doxxed. His photos, phone number, home address, his sister’s hospital—everything had been exposed.

“Fu—!” Mu Wan nearly cursed aloud. She jumped out of bed, quickly washed up, and immediately called O Lan, but as expected, he didn’t pick up.

Kuang Ye, having also seen the trending topic by this point, noticed Mu Wan rushing downstairs and grabbing her keys from the coffee table.

“I’ll go with you to the hospital,” he said.

Mu Wan hesitated. “Don’t you have a match this afternoon?”

“It’s fine. We’ll make it back in time.”

—

The two hurried to the hospital, only to find the once quiet room now overcrowded.

Countless internet influencers, armed with selfie sticks, crammed together in the chaos.

“Hello, everyone! I’m here at the hospital of the scumbag’s sister. Let’s ask her if she knows about her brother’s actions.”
“I’ve found out about his sister’s condition—she has a malignant brain tumor. Surgery costs hundreds of thousands of yuan. No wonder O Lan abandoned his ex-girlfriend to latch onto a sugar mommy.”
“Right, right! Her illness is just karma for him.”

Inside the ward, O Lan stood protectively in front of his sister, with hospital nurses also trying to keep the crowd at bay.

“What do you want? I’ve told you, the person mentioned on Weibo isn’t me!”

“Your ex-girlfriend already named you and even shared photos of you two together. Denying it now? Are you even a man?”
“You’re a vile scumbag! You ruined that girl’s life—she’ll never be able to have children again. You deserve to pay with your life!”
“Good thing your parents died early. If they were still alive, they’d be dying of shame now. Filthy man, you’ll never have a good end.”

[‘Well said, streamer! Let’s send a wave of gifts to show support.’]
“And his sister isn’t any better. Do you think she doesn’t know what her brother did? As a fellow woman, she’s unmoved? She deserves to rot in hell.”

The cameras felt like an arsenal of long rifles. Though devoid of gunpowder, they were capable of shattering both body and spirit.

O Ruo’s face turned ashen, and she shouted angrily:

“Get out! All of you, get out of here!”
“My brother is not like that! We’ve already called the police. Leave now!”

“The police will probably arrest your brother, that beast. Getting so hysterical—did we hit a nerve? Struck a sore spot?”

Overwhelmed with anger, O Ruo couldn’t form a response. Suddenly, she clutched her head in pain, her face pale, and collapsed on the spot.

“Jie!” O Lan’s expression instantly shifted to panic. He quickly lifted her in his arms, ready to rush for help, but the doorway was packed tight with people, leaving no way out.

“Move!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot, his face contorted with fury. Yet not a single camera moved away, and someone even sneered:

“She fainted just like that? Couldn’t be faking it, could she?”

Mu Wan’s patience finally snapped. She grabbed a selfie stick from one of the streamers and smashed it to the ground with a resounding crash, sending shards of glass from the livestreaming phone flying everywhere.

“You bunch of scum—get the hell out!”

“That’s my brand-new phone! What the hell are you doing?” The owner of the phone lunged at Mu Wan, ready to strike, but Kuang Ye stepped in, grabbing the man in a vice grip. His eyes gleamed coldly, radiating a chilling intensity.