Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All-Chapter 804: Framing

"But I understand now," the old man whispered. "I was cruel. I was blinded by pride. And I have lost everything because of it."

He looked up again, and this time, his voice was firm.

"Fu Jian... if you are watching this, please forgive me. I’m sorry."

And with that, Old Master Fu lowered his head fully to the ground in a full bow.

The cameras captured every second.

It was the image that would go viral within minutes.

..........................

Back at the hospital

Yu Sicong sat frozen in front of the TV screen. Fu Jian stood behind him, stunned into silence.

"He..." Sicong said softly, "he really said it."

Fu Jian’s hand trembled slightly at his side.

"...I never thought I’d hear him say those words," he whispered.

There were no cheers. No applause. Just quiet, shocked stillness between them.

For the first time, the war between them didn’t feel like a war.

It felt like the end of one.

..............................

At first, there was silence.

But it didn’t last long.

Within an hour of Old Master Fu’s press conference, the internet exploded. News outlets clipped his apology. Social media sites ran the headline:

"Old Master Fu Breaks Down and Bows: Public Apology to Gay Grandson and CEO Yu Sicong."

For a moment, it felt like the world was shocked into sympathy. The image of an old, proud man kneeling in regret was powerful.

But then the comments started to change.

At first, they were mixed.

"Maybe he really regrets it. Maybe this is good."

"I didn’t expect him to say all that. Maybe he’s trying to change."

But soon, something darker crept in.

Underneath those comments were others.

"So Fu Jian is really gay? And with that Yu Sicong guy?""Disgusting. No wonder things went wrong in that family.""I feel bad for the old man. Imagine raising your grandson just to see this."

And then more came.

Angrier. Louder.

"He’s a traditional man. What do you expect? He was trying to protect his family name."

"I don’t blame him. I’d be heartbroken too if my grandson turned out like that."

"Why are we praising two guys for being gay? This is wrong."

Soon, the sympathy began to shift.

People started defending Old Master Fu, not for apologizing, but for being a "victim."

Some parents even began speaking out publicly.

"I understan,d Old Master Fu. It’s not easy to accept this kind of thing in your family. He was just doing what he thought was right."

"Society is going too far. Why should we celebrate this kind of relationship? I support Fu Jian, but not his choices."

Online forums buzzed with debates. Comment sections were filled with slurs and hate. Hashtags began trending:

#RespectTraditionalValues

#FuJianDisgusting

#YuSicongAgenda

Someone even shared a photo of Fu Jian and Yu Sicong holding hands. It went viral for all the wrong reasons.

People circled it, mocked it, and called it unnatural.

The press picked it up next.

Talk shows invited "family experts" who claimed Fu Jian was "confused by youthful rebellion" and that Yu Sicong had "led him astray."

One loud headline read:

"A Legacy Ruined: Can Fu Jian Still Inherit After Shaming His Family?"

Even some shareholders at Global Technologies started whispering about reputation damage.

The tide had turned.

.................................

Inside the hospital room...

Fu Jian sat on the edge of the bed, his face pale, his hands shaking slightly as he stared at his phone screen.

Every refresh brought new comments, new hate. His lips moved, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

"They’re calling us monsters... they think we’re disgusting. Like we’re some kind of disease."

Yu Sicong stepped closer and gently took the phone from Fu Jian’s hands.

"Hey," he said softly, placing a calming hand on Fu Jian’s back. "Breathe."

Fu Jian’s eyes were wide and glossy.

"We’re being punished, Sicong. The more we try to live freely, the more they spit on us. What did we do wrong?"

Yu Sicong looked into his eyes, firm but gentle.

"Nothing. We didn’t do anything wrong. And we’re not being punished—we’re just living in a world that hasn’t caught up yet."

Fu Jian’s voice cracked. "Then why does it feel like the world is tearing us apart?"

Sicong didn’t answer right away. He pulled Fu Jian into a hug, letting him lean against his chest for a moment.

"Because they’re loud," he said, "but that doesn’t mean they’re right. We’ll hold a press conference soon. We’ll tell our side. And this time... we won’t stay quiet."

Fu Jian took a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "Okay... okay."

But just as Sicong finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.

"Probably a nurse," Fu Jian said, trying to stand.

Sicong moved ahead instead. "I’ll get it."

He opened the door—and everything changed in an instant.

Three men and one woman burst in, their faces twisted in fury. Before anyone could react, one of them threw a punch toward Sicong.

Fu Jian screamed, but before the blow could land properly, Yu Sicong had already moved.

Years of self-defense training kicked in.

With quick, sharp movements, he blocked the strike, twisted the man’s wrist, and threw him down.

Another attacker lunged, but Sicong sidestepped and kicked his leg out from under him. In seconds, the attackers were on the ground, groaning in pain.

But they weren’t done.

Lying on the floor, bruised and winded, one of them still spat out venom.

"You two are filth! You’re disgusting! You shouldn’t even be alive!"

"People like you are a burden on this earth!"

Another sneered, blood on his lip. "You call this love? You’re just perversion in a suit!"

Sicong’s jaw tightened. He stood tall, his chest rising and falling, but his voice was cool—ice sharp.

"You broke into a hospital room, attacked a patient, and called us a burden? You’re not brave. You’re cowards. And your hate? It doesn’t scare me."

He walked toward them, glaring down. "The world’s changing. And no matter how much you scream, you won’t stop it." fгeewebnovёl.com

Suddenly, there was another knock—then the door flew open.

A swarm of reporters pushed in, camera lights flashing.

"Mr. Yu Sicong! Why did you attack these people?"

"What happened here?!"

The attackers, still on the floor, changed instantly. Their expressions turned innocent, and tears filled their eyes.

"We were just here to support Mr. Yu," one of them sobbed. "We’re part of the LGBT community. We looked up to him... and this is how he treats us."

"He hit us. Said he didn’t want our kind around."

"He told us we were embarrassing him."

The cameras zoomed in on them, catching their bruises, their fake tears. Then someone gasped.

"Wait... aren’t they famous gay influencers from the ’Pride & Voice’ campaign?"

Another reporter nodded quickly. "Yes! That’s Owen Ren and Alicia Ke, they’re huge in the LGBTQ+ scene!"

The room buzzed in shock. Someone screamed, "Get this on the livestream!"

And before Sicong could speak, the livestream chat exploded with comments:

"OMG... Yu Sicong attacked his own people?"

"This is why I never trusted him."

"What a disgrace. Fu Jian’s no better!"

"Cancel them both!"

"I thought they were heroes. They’re monsters."

The wave of hate rolled in—bigger and louder than before.

Fu Jian, still shaking, looked up at Sicong in disbelief. "They’re lying... they’re lying! Why is everyone believing them?!"

Sicong didn’t move. His fists were clenched. His face calm, but his eyes burned with quiet fury.

"They set us up," he said. "And it’s working."

.......................................

Elsewhere, in a grand study filled with silence...

Old Master Fu sat in his usual leather chair, his wrinkled fingers wrapped around a crystal glass of water.

He stared at the muted television in front of him—the news still rolling in, the headlines now flashing with "Yu Sicong Assault Scandal" and "Fu Jian’s Fall from Grace."

Then his phone rang.

He answered it slowly, voice calm. "Yes?"

A familiar voice replied, smooth but hesitant. "Master Fu... I saw the news. Seems like things are shifting."

Old Master Fu raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Zhao. I thought we had nothing left to talk about."

"I changed my mind," Zhao said quickly. "I want to move forward with that joint tech project again. I believe now is the right time. And... of course, we’ll go with your price."

Old Master Fu’s eyes glinted.

"The price," he said, setting the glass down, "has increased."

There was a pause. Then a sigh. "Fine. We’ll accept the new terms."

With a click, the call ended.

He leaned back and chuckled softly. But he wasn’t alone.

In the far corner of the study, a woman in a long black cloak stood with her back to the window. Her face remained hidden in the shadows.

"You were right," Old Master Fu said, turning toward her.

"They’re drowning. The internet hates them now. My apology made me the victim. People feel sorry for me.

My influence is returning. That little punk Sicong—he thought he won. Now look at him."

His shoulders shook with laughter.

"I should call him," he said suddenly, his hand drifting toward his phone. "Just to see how he’s holding up. Or maybe I’ll post a message about how I was right and how these brats were wrong all along. Of course, I will try to be subtle."

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