Starting as the President of a Billionaire Group Chapter 1118: 1093: The Brightest Star in the Night Sky

Indeed, before such a massive crowd, Chen Yifan had confused a fan with another individual, rendering the moment unbearably embarrassing.

Recalling the recent mishap, he desperately wished to burrow into a hole and disappear.

Those individuals were far from easy to deal with; they certainly wouldn't overlook it. Furthermore, a nosy person had shared the footage of Chen Yifan cursing earlier.

The title read “Chen Yifan Acts Like a Big Shot and Insults the Wrong Fan — Awkward Scene.”

In no time, the Weibo post spread rapidly, and the comments section erupted in chaos.

“How could Chen Yifan behave this way? I'm deeply disappointed; I quit being his fan.”

“So what if he's handsome? Acting like a diva ruins it all.”

“What sort of conduct is that? Speaking so crudely in public — zero respect for his star persona.”

“Chen Yifan lacks any real talent in acting, relying solely on his face — what a waste.”

Criticism overwhelmed the entire comment area.

Beyond that, the fans he had offended moments ago refused to drop the matter.

“Are you an idiot? Check how much better-looking the man in the picture is compared to you.”

“Who permitted you to grab our phones?”

“Examine it closely; the person in the photo isn't you at all.”

Their remarks left Chen Yifan utterly at a loss for words. Originally, those snapping pictures had come for him, the ultimate traffic star, yet the image featured someone else entirely.

This marked the first occasion he'd faced such humiliation. He was accustomed to being the center of worship, the shining star amid the camera flashes.

Any photo taken ought to capture him, not some random guy.

Chen Yifan shot a swift glance to verify it truly wasn't his image.

Now confirmed, the fans showed no intention of forgiving him. After all, having phones yanked away abruptly would infuriate anybody.

Without security stepping in to restore order, Chen Yifan couldn't have escaped the scene.

Naturally, while some comments slammed Chen Yifan, others rushed to his defense.

Chen Yifan remained a top traffic star after all — not matching Ye Chen's handsomeness, but still leading among young idols.

Plenty of fangirls and loyal supporters stood firmly by him.

A fierce fan battle ignited online.

“Our Fan is perfect; why are you attacking him?”

“Fan is my eternal idol; I won't tolerate such insults.”

“Yifan is youthful and stunning, far superior to other idols.”

“Fan is my one true love — handsome, perfect body, the ideal man.”

Ye Chen never dreamed that his presence would spark nearly physical clashes at the event and across the internet.

Already fuming, Chen Yifan stormed into the dressing room and vented, “Why assign me this trashy dressing room? I'm a traffic star, and this is how you treat me? I wouldn't have shown up if I'd known.”

The event staff, upon hearing Chen Yifan's complaints, had no choice but to placate him, given his celebrity status and surging fame.

Arguing back was impossible; if he stormed off in rage, the annual meeting would collapse.

“Mr. Chen, our deepest apologies for the inconvenience. We'll make it better next time,” a staff member hastily promised.

Chen Yifan rarely backed down. He pressed on, “Next time? Hurry up and arrange a proper spot for me to prepare, and swap out this makeup artist — I want a different one.”

He understood perfectly: the more diva-like he acted toward the organizers, the more they'd pamper him as a genuine A-lister.

Joining a few more events like this would boost his popularity sky-high, flooding him with endorsement deals and roles.

“Mr. Chen, time is tight right now; please endure it a bit,” the organizers pleaded swiftly.

With a pointed glance at the staff, he implied they better pamper him well, or face dire consequences if they upset him.

Right as Chen Yifan was on the verge of exploding, his assistant dashed in holding a phone.

“What's the hurry? Spit it out,” Chen Yifan snapped irritably.

“Yifan, check out this Weibo buzz about you,” the assistant gasped, breathless.

The instant Chen Yifan spotted the headline, his complexion drained to ashen, a sight so frightening it stunned the assistant.

Confronted by the mocking remarks flooding the comments, Chen Yifan lost control and hurled the phone down.

“I merely mixed up a fan — is that such a crime? Fame really brings endless headaches,” he fumed.

Watching the new phone shatter on the ground pained the assistant deeply — he'd just purchased it.

Still, Chen Yifan shrugged off the online backlash, noting the abundance of defenders in his corner.

“Any idea who that photographed guy is?” he quizzed his assistant.

Braving the risk, the assistant noted only one strikingly handsome male celeb attended this gala, with no announcements of others. How did this occur?

His curiosity burned to uncover who'd eclipsed his shine.

Chen Yifan had graced innumerable events and galas, forever the brightest light.

He couldn't abide another stealing his glory.

“I looked into it; this fellow isn't an entertainer — he's a regular attendee in the VIP section, so he must boast serious connections,” the assistant reported truthfully.

After all, VIP seats demand more than cash; such guests wield real influence.

Regular folk avoid tangling with them, typically giving wide berth.

Even sans the assistant's nudge, Chen Yifan grasped this reality fully.

Upon exiting the bathroom, Ye Chen noticed a cluster of girls loitering by the door.

Their gazes sent chills down his spine, resembling starved wolves eyeing fresh meat.

“Hey, handsome, you're incredibly attractive — let's be friends,” one cooed.

“I adore you already. I've dumped Chen Yifan as my fave and am switching to you,” another declared.

“Would you sign an autograph for me?”

Faced with their fervor, Ye Chen developed a throbbing headache. Handsomeness surely invited endless woes.

“Sorry, I'm no celeb; you've mistaken me,” he quickly responded.

“Not a star, yet handsomer than any — godlike beauty, I'm smitten!” a girl exclaimed suddenly.

Ye Chen awkwardly wove through the excited group and reclaimed his seat.

“Ye Chen, why are you drenched in sweat?” Song Xiaoxiao inquired, puzzled.

“It's nothing, probably just the heat,” Ye Chen fibbed.

He omitted the horde of girls mobbing him, wary of sparking jealousy in Xiaoxiao.

“That was a narrow escape; nearly got devoured out there,” Ye Chen mused inwardly, still shaken.

Truth be told, despite the venue's dim lights, Ye Chen shone brilliantly from his spot, akin to the most radiant star piercing the night sky.