As Shen Xingsui looked at the message on his phone, a chill ran down his spine. Numerous thoughts raced through his mind, rapidly passing like a spinning lantern. His mind was filled with a jumble of thoughts to the point that he couldn't even hear what Shen Xingchen, sitting next to him, was saying.

Exasperated, Shen Xingchen raised his voice, "Xingsui, are you even listening to me?"

Shen Xingsui quickly gathered his thoughts, stammering, "Yes, I do have some."

"I believe you don’t." Shen Xingchen propped his chin with one hand, setting aside his soup. "So, what's the story with that song from Jian Zhi?"

Shen Xingsui put down his phone, taking a deep breath before answering, "I can confirm that the composition of that song is my original work. It's just been quite some time... I probably wrote it during my transition from high school to college. Back then, I was actively composing, and he had already made his debut. I had shared my compositions with him, but he constantly criticized them as mediocre. Being his younger brother, he advised me not to share them publicly to avoid embarrassing him."

Shen Xingchen's temper flared. He slammed his chopsticks onto the table, exclaiming, "That bastard Jian Zhi! Is he even human?"

After hearing this, Shen Xingsui pressed his lips together and managed a slight smile.

Shen Xingchen, hands on his hips, declared, "I'll address this immediately and let everyone know who copied whom!"

Seeing him reach for his phone, Shen Xingsui hurriedly intervened, "Wait, don’t."

Shen Xingchen looked at him quizzically, "What are you waiting for? Don’t you see they're all bashing you?"

Shen Xingsui sighed inwardly, explaining, "Back in my younger days, and never anticipating the current situation, I only had handwritten sheets for my compositions. Now, I lack any proof."

As he spoke about never anticipating the current situation, Shen Xingchen could almost see the heartbreak written across Shen Xingsui's face. No one could ever imagine being betrayed by a family member, having their hard work stolen, and then being falsely branded a thief.

Shen Xingchen inquired, "Where's the manuscript?"

Shen Xingsui replied, "It should be in my room. When I left home, relations were strained. I practically felt kicked out, unsure of my future and left with nothing."

A realization struck Shen Xingchen, "Going back now would be fruitless. That scoundrel Jian Zhi must've hidden it!"

Shen Xingsui nodded gently, "Most likely."

Shen Xingchen, always straightforward and not particularly cunning, was at a loss. He ruffled his hair in frustration, "So, what should we do?"

Shen Xingsui suggested, "First, delete that video. It’s on your account, and I don't want it to further implicate you. We should limit the spread of this rumor. Later, I'll call Jian Zhi and see if we can come to some agreement."

Shen Xingchen was initially resistant. He was eager to fight against the online trolls. But glancing at Shen Xingsui's worried, pleading eyes, he relented, not wanting to make it harder for his younger brother. He nodded, "Alright, I’ll do it."

The video was eventually deleted, but the incident was far from forgotten.

In fact, Shen Xingchen had underestimated the speed and power of online gossip. Within just eight minutes of posting, the video had been downloaded and re-shared tens of thousands of times, trending on Weibo.

#ShenXingsuiPlagiarism#

This hashtag quickly rose to the top. As a celebrity fresh off a popular show, especially with the video posted by the influential Shen Xingchen, coupled with the famous idol Jian Zhi, their combined influence fueled the Weibo trend.

The netizens expressed their shock:

"What? Claiming others' works as his own?"

"Can’t he produce anything original?"

"I’m so disappointed. I just became a fan of this 'original' artist a while ago."

“It seems this man was once his actual brother.”

Online, opinions were rampant, but most were pointing fingers at Shen Xingsui. No one believed that a singer who had been in the industry for years and had matured would plagiarize someone who had just debuted and once considered him a younger brother.

...

Shen family

Shen Xingsui returned to his room and settled into a chair, his emotions a mix of complexity and heaviness.

The phone began its “beep-beep-beep” dial tone in the room. It was the first time he had tried to contact Jian Zhi since that incident. Unexpectedly, the root cause of this call was their shared passion for music. From a young age, Shen Xingsui had idolized his brother, dreaming of becoming a singer. Yet, his brother never acknowledged his talent and even seemed reluctant to let him hear his compositions, almost as if harboring animosity towards him.

“Beep-beep-beep.”

As the repetitive ringing echoed in the room, Shen Xingsui felt a gradual calm enveloping him.

Finally, just before the call would auto-disconnect, it was answered. Jian Zhi's voice came through, “Hello?”

Shen Xingsui responded, “It's me.”

“I know.” Jian Zhi's tone seemed even more composed than his, “What is it?”

Without beating around the bush, Shen Xingsui inquired, “I wanted to ask about that song. Why does its chorus sound so much like mine?”

Jian Zhi scoffed, “Your song? Does it have your name on it? It’s my song. Are you holding a grudge because I once said your song was average and now you're purposely causing trouble?”

Shen Xingsui had never imagined Jian Zhi could be so brazen!

“You, you very well know it's my song!” An exasperated Shen Xingsui demanded, “Why are you doing this?”

Listening to Shen Xingsui's heartfelt query, Jian Zhi could almost envision his brother's current expression — undoubtedly heartbroken with a hint of grievance. As a child, when he was particularly upset, he would cry, appearing weak and naive, clueless and irritating.

And yet, so undeniably talented.

Utterly useless, but blessed with musical genius. Such a waste given his morose demeanor.

Why should Jian Zhi, with all his prowess, be overshadowed by a gloomy no-good's composition? After all, the song would be of little significance in Shen Xingsui’s hands. Wouldn't it be better if Jian Zhi used it?

Jian Zhi replied, “Xingsui, I don’t understand what you're getting at. What have I done?”

Shen Xingsui retorted sharply, “You know full well what you’ve done.”

“What do I know?” Jian Zhi sneered, “Xingsui, have you completely forgotten the two decades of upbringing the Jian family provided? Every meal you ate, the clothes you wore, the bed you slept in, weren’t they all provided by the family? Have I wronged you? Is this how you treat those who raised you?”

He was guilt-tripping him.

However, to Shen Xingsui, Jian Zhi’s words only sounded bitterly ironic. Taking a deep breath, all anger seemingly washed away, he calmly stated, “When I composed that song, if you had just once said it was good, or that you liked it, or even that you wanted it, I wouldn’t have hesitated to give it to you...because you're my brother.”

Jian Zhi was taken aback.

“I wouldn’t have asked for much…” Shen Xingsui's eyes grew misty, yet his voice remained serene, “All I wanted was a hint of affirmation from you.”

Taking another deep breath, Shen Xingsui asserted, “I'd rather you genuinely dislike me than face this reality. What I detest isn't your theft, but your deception. Do you understand?!”

Words that landed with impact were like weighty stones, hitting Jian Zhi's heart so profoundly that it took him a while to recover.

Shen Xing Sui tilted his face upwards. Waves of bitter sorrow surged in his heart, one after the other. But his resolve only grew stronger, his voice deep: "I want an apology."

Jian Zhi's eyes widened slightly.

"You owe me an apology, Jian Zhi." The voice on the other end of the phone came through, deliberate and stern: "Otherwise, I won't let this go."

It was as though in that very moment, the image in Jian Zhi's heart of the forever crying, foolish child shattered. That child had grown up, no longer willing to merely endure. He stood opposing Jian Zhi, ready to declare war.

...

The call ended, and silence filled both rooms.

Jian Zhi's manager approached from behind, asking, "How did the talk go?"

"Not well." Jian Zhi chuckled lightly, "He wants a public apology from me, or he won't let it rest."

The manager furrowed his brows, "All this fuss over a chorus? He used to be your brother! After all these years of raising him, he's truly ungrateful."

Jian Zhi walked to the couch and sat down, "I want to settle this privately."

The manager nodded, "The public sentiment online is largely in your favor. He doesn't have evidence, so he doesn't have the upper hand. Let me see if we can settle this with money. Don't agree to anything now, in case he's recording. Later, meet face to face, record everything, and then sign a contract. It'll be safer that way."

Jian Zhi murmured in agreement.

Seeing Jian Zhi's downcast spirit, the manager asked, "Are you feeling guilty or upset?"

Jian Zhi laughed softly, "In the half year since he left the Jian household, he's really grown and changed so much, I hardly recognize him anymore."

"People change," the manager mused as he flipped through some documents. "Growth isn't measured by time. After facing some storms, one can never go back to how they once were."

No going back.

As Jian Zhi leaned back into the couch, memories flooded his mind. Things he thought he didn't care about suddenly became vivid. He remembered how Shen Xing Sui loved to mention his name in front of classmates, flaunting their relationship. This often led to troubles, irritating Jian Zhi. One time, in a fit of anger, he forbade Shen Xing Sui from ever mentioning their relationship or engaging with his work.

It was said in the heat of the moment, but while Jian Zhi sometimes resented his brother, he also enjoyed the admiration.

However, Shen Xing Sui took his words to heart, ceasing to speak of Jian Zhi or listen to his music. Instead, his adoration shifted to another artist, Fu Jin Xie. The growing collection of Fu Jin Xie's albums and posters in his room became glaringly evident. Shen Xing Sui even went as far as supporting Fu Jin Xie wholeheartedly, contributing songs and other efforts.

Why?

Wasn't Shen Xing Sui his own brother?

Even if he wasn't a fan of Jian Zhi, he shouldn't be supporting someone else!

To Jian Zhi's dismay, Fu Jin Xie's popularity in the industry began to surpass his own. Fans shifted allegiances, and many investors began favoring the Fu household. It was one thing to face challenges at work, but coming home to find that his brother was also a fan of his competitor was the last straw.

Driven by jealousy, Jian Zhi's patience with Shen Xing Sui wore thin. Their bond frayed until it was irreparably damaged. His memories of Shen Xing Sui halted at a time long past. But now, reflecting on it, he realized that in a corner unbeknownst to him, the young boy had grown up.

"No going back," Jian Zhi whispered, a bittersweet smile on his lips, as if speaking to himself, looking up at the ceiling, "Things have changed."

...

The controversy blew up that evening. Online, netizens massively mocked and criticized Shen Xing Sui for trying to take advantage of his elder brother and being ungrateful. Within two hours, Jian Zhi responded with a cryptic post: "Music is the soul's messenger, transcending time and place. Thank you all for loving my songs. I'm also glad others can perform them. I hope you all look forward to my upcoming works."

This post seems to say everything and nothing at the same time.

The basic sentiment seems to be, "It's my song, and it's alright if you perform it. I bear no grudge, and I've graciously forgiven you."

The comment section was full of praise:

"Such generosity from Brother Zhi."

"Those copycats are just despicable."

"Can't wait to follow more of Brother Zhi’s work in the future!"

With the release of this seemingly accusatory post, Shen Xingsui remained silent, which led fans to believe he was feeling guilty. Jian Zhi seemed to have gained the moral high ground. Shen Xingsui’s comments were swamped with criticism, looking like a chaotic swamp. But unexpectedly, Shen Xingsui broke his silence. Shortly after Jian Zhi's post, he tweeted, tagging @JianZhi:

"Music is the language of the soul. Every piece is unique, given life by its creator. I appreciate your fondness for my song, and I'm glad you shared it with the public before I did. I hope you can focus on your own compositions in the future."

This tweet was bold, oozing defiance.

Moreover, Shen Xingsui shared the latter part of that melody, played by himself, merging flawlessly with the previous section, sounding harmonious and beautiful.

The audience was dumbstruck:

"Wait, what does this mean?"

"Was it Shen Xingsui plagiarizing Jian Zhi?"

"Or did Jian Zhi copy from Shen Xingsui?"

"Such a twist! Incredible!"

The netizens were flabbergasted by this unexpected twist, especially given that the two were once brothers.

Shen Xingsui's fans, having previously been criticized and blamed for their idol's alleged plagiarism, felt vindicated by this turnaround. Their spirits lifted:

"I always knew Xingsui would never do such a thing."

"Xingsui has always been original. With his talent, why would he ever need to plagiarize?"

"He can compose a song in an afternoon for a child. Why would he need to copy?"

"Jian Zhi, how could you, as an elder brother, steal your younger sibling's work? Is this how the Jian family treats Xingsui?"

Most fans, of course, chose to stand with Shen Xingsui. They rallied behind their idol, even if they didn't want to engage in arguments. They believed that silence would paint them as easy targets.

However, having been a popular idol for years, Jian Zhi had a much larger and more dedicated fanbase than Shen Xingsui. They staunchly refused to believe their idol would plagiarize, responding aggressively to Shen Xingsui's tweet:

"How did this suddenly become your song?"

"So playing a sequel to a song makes it yours now?"

“That's hardly evidence.”

“Stop trying to tarnish our brother’s reputation!”

The fans of Jianzhi simply don't believe it. While most netizens are rational, some with a deeper understanding of music even took the time to compare Jianzhi's song to that of Shen Xingsui and the difference was evident:

“When compared, Shen Xingsui's version is truly delightful.”

“The chorus of Jianzhi’s song was my favorite part, but I felt the latter half was lacking.”

“Yes, it’s like two different songs.”

“I always wanted to skip ahead, just to listen to the chorus.”

“Now, after hearing Shen Xingsui’s version, I feel satisfied. This is what a complete song should sound like!”

However, these are just the sentiments of rational netizens. Many still think this isn't definitive proof, especially Jianzhi's fans who vehemently defend their idol, hoping to clear his name.

...

Hengtong Building.

Early this morning, Shen Xingsui had an appointment with the music team of “Mountains and Rivers”. After a restless night, he sat by the moonlit window, jotting down notes. Considering the grandeur of the story, he finally penned down a song.

The expression on the music team's faces was peculiar when they saw him.

Shen Xingsui presented his composition and asked, “This is the general idea. Any suggestions or changes?”

The producer hesitated, “Xingsui, your composition is exceptional, but given our movie’s reputation and its unreleased status, if there's negative press about you, we might be hesitant to use your song.”

That’s the harsh reality.

People’s opinions can change overnight.

Shen Xingsui hesitated, “So, you’re saying you won’t be using my composition?”

“...I’m sorry.” The producer felt guilty, “But let’s keep the sheet music here. If there’s hope in the future, we’ll contact you?”

Although the producer tried to soften the blow, Shen Xingsui understood. Surprisingly calm, he accepted the decision.

“Thank you for your kindness,” Shen Xingsui bowed. “I wish you success.”

As he turned to leave, the producer wanted to say more. However, Shen Xingsui closed the door gently behind him, leaving without protest or further explanation.

Another team member remarked, “His version might have impressed the director. It's rare to find a composer as talented as him.”

The producer was torn.

In truth, he had no intention of refusing Shen Xingsui, but Jianzhi’s team had reached out. They proposed that if Shen Xingsui was rejected, Jianzhi’s younger brother An Ran could compose, and Jianzhi himself would sing the theme song for free, including promotions. It was an offer he found hard to refuse. Compared to the lesser-known Shen Xingsui, the more famous Jianzhi seemed the better option.

But...

As he looked at the closed door, a sense of regret swelled within him. It felt like he'd missed out on something truly precious.

Meanwhile, in another music room, a middle-aged man who had been sleeping with a hat on now lifted his head. He cast a glance at the production crew, a hint of mockery dancing in his eyes. Reflecting on the young man's music, his interest and curiosity grew. "Shen Xingsui? It might be worth collaborating with him."

Fenghua Entertainment.

After leaving Hengtong Building, Shen Xingsui returned to his management company. Inside the office, Wang Meican awaited him. The entire PR team was in full swing. The office hadn't been this lively in ages. Staff members were coming in and out, telephones ringing nonstop — it was abuzz with activity.

Shen Xingsui was taken aback, "What's going on?"

Wang Meican chuckled, "We're all handling your PR. We're suppressing negative press from Jian Zhi's side and publishing his approved articles, reaching out to influencers to build momentum. We're also coordinating with other PR firms to manage the public opinion. Everyone's hard at work."

Shen Xingsui, completely stunned, hesitated, "Is all of this... for me?"

"Who else? We're here to serve you, after all," Wang Meican shrugged, not showing any hint of the anger Shen Xingsui expected. Instead, she laughed, "Oh, we haven't been this busy in so long. Everyone's incredibly motivated. It's a nice change from getting paid for doing nothing. They're even more excited than you are."

Fu Jinxe's PR team is among the best in the industry.

They have mastered the art of controlling public opinion, devising PR strategies, and even the intricacies of crafting public personas.

Over the years, Fu, the movie star, has risen to such prominence that few media entities dare to challenge him. Coupled with Fu Jinxe's growing diplomatic demeanor, the team found themselves with little to do – immensely skilled but underutilized.

"Let them be busy," Wang Meican smiled. "They're excited about it."

Shen Xingsui had initially worried about causing inconvenience and burdening everyone. He had prepared himself to apologize upon arrival. But the scene before him took him by surprise. He felt relieved and moved, "Thank you..."

Wang Meican waved her hand dismissively, "There's no need to thank me. If you should be thanking anyone, it's Fu. This PR team was initially his private asset. But he specifically instructed us to give you the best resources and team, with no room for errors. He's more concerned about your affairs than even his own."

Something stirred within Shen Xingsui. He murmured, "Is that true?"

Wang Meican smiled gently, "Why would I lie? But Xingsui, I have to ask, regarding Jian Zhi plagiarizing your work, do you have any more evidence?"

The topic weighed heavily on Shen Xingsui.

He never doubted his brother, so he had no guard against him. Leaving Jian's house, he never imagined returning to the entertainment circle. Hence, he left empty-handed, leaving all manuscripts behind.

"I've always seen myself as ordinary, mediocre," Shen Xingsui whispered. "To me, those manuscripts are music, but they might be worthless to others."

Shen Xingsui continued, "When I left the Jian family, I was uncertain about my future. I didn't dare dream of chasing my music passion, so I took nothing with me."

Realizing his secondary role in this drama and freshly reborn, he merely wished to live peacefully. He hadn't anticipated the current situation due to his past oversights.

Wang Meican sighed, "So, you have no evidence left? Was there only one copy of that manuscript? You never showed it to anyone, nor made backups?"

Shen Xingsui, not having many friends, had never shared his work. He was about to nod when a thought made him pause.

Wang Meican, noticing his subtle reaction, quickly asked, "Did you remember something?"

Shen Xingsui's eyes darted nervously, struggling to find words.

Indeed, he remembered. While the manuscripts were unique, and he hadn't shown them to friends, he had indeed sent them to one person — Fu Jinxe.

Back then, he was just a little fan. Disapproved by his family, used by friends, and unrecognized by society, Fu Jinxiao was his beacon of hope and light. He'd spend days writing songs for him. In a bold move, he once secretly sent song sheets to Fu Jinxiao’s Weibo account through a pseudonymous account.

It’s been several years; he's unsure if those chat logs still exist or if he even remembers the login details for that alias account.

But he assumes that Fu Jinxiao probably didn't see it. With a sea of fans and countless daily messages, his message would surely have drowned in the flood.

Wang Meican curiously inquired, "Sui Sui? What's on your mind?"

Snapping back, Shen Xingsui hesitated for a moment before admitting, “I might have a way to find some evidence. I had an alias account that could contain it. May I try accessing it?”

Wang Meican naturally agreed, nodding, “Sure, any lead is good. Try it out, but don’t stress too much. If it doesn’t work, that’s okay.”

Shen Xingsui nodded in acknowledgment.

A whirlwind of events had unfolded since then. He could no longer indulge in long stints of fan-girling on that account. The emergence of An Ran disrupted his life, and that account became dormant and forgotten.

However, time hadn’t eroded his memory of the password. When the login succeeded, a whirl of complex emotions enveloped him. Once again, he saw the familiar ID: "Lady Fu Jinxiao."

...

Shen Xingsui chuckled at the username.

When he had first become a fan, everyone claimed to be Fu Jinxiao's "wife." He registered multiple nicknames, all taken. To attract his idol’s attention, he settled on this audacious ID. Its usage continued because he was too lazy to change it. Being an old fan, he organized many support campaigns, gaining some fame.

Upon logging in, he was greeted with a flood of private messages.

"Madam, you're online!"

"Ahh! You've finally returned!"

"I thought you'd left the fandom!"

"We've all been waiting for you!"

"Is everything alright?"

These were messages from devoted fans, some of whom he had closely interacted with in the past.

Warmed by their messages, Shen Xingsui was about to reply when Wang Meican said, “Which of these aliases is yours? We should be aware of celebrities' pseudonyms to prevent potential issues.”

Shen Xingsui's hand shook, flustered, “What? You want to know my pseudonym too?”

Wang Meican, taken aback by his response, laughed, “Of course! It's for your own good. Usually, we only monitor a bit but won’t interfere with your freedom. Just tell me the nickname, I'll look it up.”

"..."

Shen Xingsui fell silent.

This was the first time Wang Meican saw this well-behaved young man not immediately respond. Curious, she asked, “What's the matter? Is your username too revealing?”

Shen Xingsui's face flushed crimson, visibly embarrassed. He didn’t want to disclose his fangirl identity, mumbling, “My username and ID might be a tad... inappropriate.”

"How inappropriate can it be?" Wang Meican chuckled, "It's not something anti-social, is it?"

Upon hearing that, Shen Xingsui shook his head, "Not exactly."

Wang Meican seemed oblivious to his unease and waved dismissively, "Then there's no issue. Relax, I've seen it all. No matter how odd your username might be, it won't phase me. So, out with it."

Shen Xingsui: "..."

Oh, Wang Meican, you might be in for a surprise.

Author's note: Wang Meican: Shocked for the whole family.