Episode 11: The Trial of Shen Yao

These past few days, Shen Yao had been living as if in shadow. Ever since he received that photograph — only half of it — he had grown jumpy, afraid even to go out, always feeling that someone meant him harm, yet he dared not call the police: once what had happened to Yu Mengge came out into the open, their interests would suffer, and they would abandon him. He did not want to become a man everyone spat upon.

In that photograph, he, Fan Shiqi and Song Yiyi had all been circled in red pen, and Fang Jin had been marked with an × — but he was already dead. Shen Yao had become the next target of judgment, and he felt as if he had fallen into an abyss from which he could never climb out.

He barely dared to sleep.

At night, the moment he closed his eyes, he would see the look in Yu Mengge's eyes at the instant he fell — no accusation, no anger, only a light like the last flicker before a lamp goes out: cold, despairing, yet seeming to see right through him.

Several times he woke from his dreams drenched in cold sweat, his throat as dry as if he had swallowed ash.

But reality was more terrifying than any nightmare.

Shen Yao's scandals were flying everywhere, fiercer and more precise than a few days earlier.

On every major social platform there was even a collective crusade: [#RottenMangoUnspokenRules#], [#ShenYaoPreysOnMaleActors#], [#EntertainmentBlackMoneyFoodChain#]. The netizens would not let go, and within a few short hours, reposts had topped a million.

Netizens crowded downstairs from his home, shouting:

"Come out and apologize!"

"Beast!"

"You've harmed so many children!"

Some netizens, out of sheer malice, played pranks on him, piling funeral wreaths at his door until even the corridor was covered in white flowers. Neighbours were so frightened that they knocked on his door overnight to complain, and some cursed him outright: "You harm yourself and you harm us too — living next door to scum like you is eight lifetimes of bad luck!"

Shen Yao shut himself indoors, daring neither to speak nor to defend himself — because he knew that the more he said, the more flaws he would expose.

And what frightened him even more was this:

Those above him, the moment they sniffed a threat, would abandon him at once.

They would make him... disappear.

Netizens even wanted to collectively boycott his films and the Rotten Mango Awards he had founded — an operation built entirely on abusing power, on "unspoken rules" for male actors: anyone who refused would be bullied or frozen out, and made to drink with clients. And he was gay; whenever he met a handsome young man, he wanted to put him under his "unspoken rules" — even his young boyfriend wanted to get away from him, having been deceived by promises of many resources that all turned out to be lies.

Just as the netizens' siege of him was at its wildest, a new exposé video shot to the top of the trending list.

Its title was just four characters:

"The List Exposed"

In the video, a high-definition Excel spreadsheet was spread out before the camera —

Dozens of names were neatly arranged in it, in four columns:

Unspoken-rule targets, packaging price, investor assignment, resource exchange item.

Behind every row was a blurred silhouette of an artist; these artists were being auctioned off like "goods", their dignity trampled underfoot by capital, and in order to get resources they had no choice but to bargain with darkness and sell their souls.

In the top left corner of the list was a cold signature:

The Judge

The whole internet exploded once more.

People began matching the silhouettes, checking timelines, identifying the corresponding stars, and the entire entertainment industry fell into panic. Self-media hosts livestreamed their readings of the spreadsheet, column by column, and every detail of the stars' lives was magnified before the public, story after story dug out from behind the list.

On her evaluation column, in plain sight, were written the words:

"Responsible for selecting, packaging, and serving them up."

Song Yiyi instantly became the enemy of the people.

Song Yiyi had become a perpetrator: in the entertainment industry she scouted pretty, handsome young men, and she held a list of prey for the big investors to choose from, for power-for-sex deals — while these male and female actors became chips in their hands.

The comments section completely descended into hell.

Shen Yao became the object of everyone's rage, cursed without cease, with some even threatening to chop off his fingers —

Some cursed him as a "beast" and a "demon who steals dreams".

Some claimed they had nearly been "groped" by him.

Some said he had destroyed an entire generation of young actors.

Some even dug up his former young boyfriend — a handsome, delicate face — who cried on a livestream and said:

"He said he would give me resources... He said he loved me... But in the end I was just a toy."

The livestream room was instantly packed with a million viewers, and the curses were deafening.

"Boycott him, utterly!"

"This old monster has ruined so many young men!"

"He should be drowned in a pig cage!"

"He's worse than a beast!"

Watching these videos, Shen Yao felt as if he had been nailed to his chair, unable to breathe.

He wanted to explain —

He wanted to argue back —

He wanted to shout, "That's not how it was!"

But his throat felt as if someone were squeezing it shut, and he could not force out a single word.

Because he knew...

That was indeed what he had done.

Only he had never imagined that one day it would all be dug up.

Just as his mind was on the verge of collapse... another anonymous parcel was delivered to his door.

There was no sender, no address.

Only a black stamp:

"Judgement phase 2: Fear."

Shen Yao's legs went so weak he could barely stand; he almost crawled to the door. With trembling hands, he opened the box and looked down inside.

Inside was an old-fashioned answering machine. He swallowed hard. He was afraid, but also curious, and could not resist listening to what was inside.

The moment he pressed the play button —

The whole house instantly turned as cold as if frost had formed, and time seemed to stop.

From the recording came a voice he would never forget.

Yu Mengge!

That gentle yet suppressed voice floated from the speaker, word by word: "Director... I will work hard, as long as you are willing to give me a chance..."

"I really... really love this song..."

"I will not give up..."

And then —

A dull thud, like a heavy object hitting the ground.

Shen Yao was so frightened that he flung the answering machine away and collapsed on the floor, trembling all over. Gasping for breath, he stared at the answering machine, his face deathly pale, his eyes unfocused. He could not cry out, and all around him was an eerie silence —

He covered his ears, but he could not block out the last line in the recording: "You... killed me."

Click —

The recording ended.

That night, his mind completely broke down. He left the lights off in the house and cowered trembling in a corner, like a beast driven by hunters to a dead end, with nowhere to run — all that awaited him was execution.

Outside the window, the wind stirred the curtains, making the room feel like a dark interrogation chamber, and every tick of the second hand on the wall clock meant that the time of judgment was drawing a little closer.

And on the rooftop of the building opposite, a dark figure stood silently.

The cold wind stirred his coat.

He looked down at Shen Yao's despairing figure inside the window, his eyes without the slightest flicker.

Fear.

Shame.

Cyberviolence.

Isolation.

Psychological pressure.

Every trap he had laid for his prey was finally beginning to take effect.

The dark figure spoke faintly:

"Almost there... Your crime does not yet earn you death."

"You must... first remember him."

Faced with all this, Shen Yao refused to simply be buried by it. He thought of a close friend who was like a sister to him — Tian Sirong.

They had shared a sister-like bond for over twenty years. In the past, whenever there was something he could not handle, it was she who smoothed it over for him. Perhaps this time she could help him calm the storm online; if this went on, his mind was about to break down completely.

In a panic, he fished his phone out from between the sofa cushions and dialled Tian Sirong's number, saying softly: "Sirong, this time you must help me. I'm afraid someone is deliberately out to get us..."

Before he could finish, she cut him off, her tone utterly arrogant and disdainful: "Shen Yao, this mess is of your own making. What does it have to do with me? Don't try to drag me into it. Yes, we have over twenty years of friendship, but I owe you nothing!"

Shen Yao's heart tightened, and in a hoarse voice he begged: "But we have over twenty years of sisterly friendship — would you really watch me die without lifting a finger?"

Tian Sirong burst out laughing: "Watch you die without lifting a finger? You're still alive, aren't you? It's your own hands that aren't clean — you left evidence for others to grab. Who else is there to blame?"

Shen Yao's face froze in shock, and deliberately raising his voice, he shouted: "Tian Sirong, do you think you can get away clean? Don't forget, back then, you were the organizer. If anything happens to me, you won't have it easy either. We're in the same boat — once you're on a pirate ship, do you think you can just get off?"

Tian Sirong dropped her smile, her tone stiff and cold: "You fat slob, don't go smearing me. Those things happened because you yourself are being cyberbullied. You've harmed so many people — aren't you afraid of retribution? Don't try to threaten me with what happened back then. It was you who pushed him down. You struck first. I did nothing at all!"

Shen Yao gripped his phone, furious and agitated: "You old monster, do you think you're clean? How much blood is on your hands? Don't think that just because your late husband left you tens of billions, all of it dirty money, you are somehow above everyone else. You're nothing but a pawn in their hands..."

Tian Sirong hung up on him, took a deep breath, and laughed coldly: "How childish. Now you've become a rat everyone wants to beat. I can't save you. May fortune favour you!"

Shen Yao was so angry that he smashed his phone straight onto the floor. Facing himself in the mirror, he suddenly grabbed a wine glass, drank a mouthful of wine, and hurled it at the mirror. Now he had nowhere left to turn. He picked up a shard of glass, wanting to kill himself. When he pressed the shard to his wrist, the cold glass sent a chill through him, and he was afraid again. He hesitated — he did not even have the courage to die —

He immediately threw the glass shard away. He did not even have the courage to cry. He could not admit defeat. There must still be a way. He thought of evidence left behind from back then: Song Yiyi had once filmed the whole incident on video. She had deleted it afterwards, but he had kept a backup copy.

If you won't help me, then we'll all go down together! His mind had already lost control. He rummaged through drawers and boxes, and among a pile of old phones found one he no longer used, and then a power cable. His expression turned strange...

And their phone call had long since been in the hands of "the Judge", who now had his next plan. When it came to life and death, these people, for their own interests, would all abandon so-called friendship — nothing but a pack of inhuman monsters... Now all that remained was to wait for each of them to expose a weakness, one by one.

In the darkness, a light suddenly flashed, the room filled with smoke, and Shen Yao was knocked out by a cloud of smoke. The judgment game had begun —

Shen Yao's eyes snapped open to find himself trapped in a transparent glass chamber, with no door anywhere and no exit.

The walls were covered in screens, each one reflecting his terrified face. He stared around in horror, his mind reeling, and shouted: "I know I was wrong! Don't kill me!"

From above came a cold, merciless electronically synthesized voice:

"Shen Yao, the judgment begins."

Immediately, a notification popped up simultaneously on all the major livestreaming platforms:

"[#TruthJudgmentChamber#] Live broadcast — Crime and Confession."

Tens of millions of viewers flooded into the livestream room.

The bullet comments poured down like a storm:

"What kind of prank show is this?"

"Is that Shen Yao himself?!"

"This scumbag deserves to die!"

The camera moved in close. Shen Yao trembled all over, his hands bound in chains, and he heard an electronic prompt —

"If you want to live, answer the Judge's questions truthfully. If the audience chooses 'unforgiven', your judgment will be carried out at once."

A countdown lit up on the wall.

[10 minutes to the truth revealed]

The screen went black, and the next moment, a recording began to play on the screens —

A dim underground car park, the sounds of an argument, and images of blood spraying, covered by mosaics — yet every frame was revealing a fact that had been buried for years.

The Judge's voice sounded once more:

"Three years ago, you took part in the murder of Yu Mengge. You were not the mastermind, but you did the deed for others and destroyed the body and the evidence. You thought no one would remember."

Shen Yao jerked his head up, tense, his face deathly pale: "I, I was only following orders... I didn't know he would really die!"

"But you took part. You are one of the murderers, are you not?"

His breathing quickened, sweat slid down from his temples, and biting his lower lip nervously, he gazed at his own terrified face on the screens all around him and went on: "Those were orders! They were — those people — one of the seventeen! I was just — a lackey!"

The livestream room fell into a deathly silence.

Then the bullet comments exploded.

"He killed someone???"

"A lackey deserves to die too!!!"

"Covering up for villains is villainy itself!"

"Seventeen people? They're a gang?"

"He killed Yu Mengge!"

The voting interface on the screens lit up:

"[Do you forgive Shen Yao?]"

☑ Yes (3%)

☒ No (97%)

The countdown was still flashing, cold light dancing across Shen Yao's face, as he shouted in breakdown:

"I was wrong! I just wanted to survive! What do you people know? No one in this industry is clean!"

"You watch the show, chase stars, idolize celebrities — but do you know what kind of hell lies behind them?"

His voice grew sharp and torn —

It was the frantic struggle of someone caught between fear and rage.

"I'm just a pawn who went along with the rules!"

The Judge's voice fell coldly over him:

"Yu Mengge, he wanted to live too. Did you ever give him a chance?"

Shen Yao's voice grew hurried, his throat hoarse, as he struggled and said:

"I know I was wrong! I confess! I was already wrong..." He cried out, but he could no longer undo the ending. He muttered to himself: "I was wrong! Forgive me!"

The Judge's icy voice replied once more:

"Precisely because you went along, evil was allowed to grow. Today, it is not I who am judging you, but all living beings."

The votes dropped to zero.

As the screens flickered, Shen Yao's cries were gradually muted.

The camera slowly pulled back, leaving only those words hanging in the centre of the screen —

"The judgment is over. The truth is spreading."

The livestream ended, and the whole internet sank into shock and fear.

No one knew where that livestream had come from, nor did anyone know who "the Judge" was.

But from that day on, no one in the entertainment industry dared to mention Yu Mengge's name ever again —

As if it were a taboo burned to ashes by the fire of judgment.

And online, netizens, in order to trace Yu Mengge's past, began little by little to search for the footprints he had left behind, lighting up that dark world.