Midnight Owl Ch91

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 91: Manual

“Ding—”

The second alert sound interrupted the discussion on the other end, as did the eye contact here.

The five companions looked at their arms together. This time, the coordinates received were for 7/23.

“Chongqing.” After a few seconds of thought, Wu Sheng matched the location with the number.

“Hot pot, skewers, hot and sour noodles…” Qian Ai, already smelling the rich aroma, was lost in endless fantasies.

“And the sky train!” Kuang Jinxin had seen videos of the light rail train passing through the high altitudes of the mountain city. It was magical and cool!

“Chongqing…” Captain Xu, who was eager to return to Beijing, felt a bit complicated.

Chi Yingxue looked at Wu Sheng, who instantly determined the location, and the other three, who trusted his judgment without doubt, feeling even more complicated… Had he missed some step of verifying the location with stationery?

As time passed, most of those who wanted to pass the challenge gathered their teams and left the banquet hall. The ones remaining were either those like them, who didn’t need to pass the challenge, or those who couldn’t gather a team or find one.

Kuang Jinxin took some delicious-looking cakes from the dining table and shared them with his friends. When he offered one to Chi Yingxue, he was rejected.

“I hate sweets.” Chi Yingxue’s refusal was simple and direct.

“Oh.” People have their own preferences. Kuang Jinxin respected that and then gave the piece meant for Chi Yingxue to the eager Qian Ai.

Qian Ai devoured the cakes quickly, wiping his mouth afterwards, and educated Kuang Jinxin, “Remember next time, even the best things should be given to those who appreciate them.”

Kuang Jinxin earnestly remembered. “Next time there’s something tasty, I’ll give you double.”

Qian Ai patted his head with satisfaction.

Chi Yingxue, uninterested in watching the deep bond between his teammates, lowered his eyes and started to unwrap the bandage on his arm. His rough movements turned the bandage into a tight knot, increasing his frustration. In a forceful pull, he tore the bandage off, irritating the newly healed skin on his arm, leaving red marks.

In the low atmosphere, a pale-colored small square cake was handed to him.

Chi Yingxue frowned and looked up.

Kuang Jinxin seriously said, “I tried it. It’s not sweet.”

Chi Yingxue: “……”

From next door, another mischievous hand reached out.

Annoying.

“Snap—”

Qian Ai’s attempt to steal cake was thwarted, leaving him with a swollen hand from the slap. Holding his struck hand, he looked pained. “Do you need to be so harsh? Are we just playing around as comrades or settling deep-seated hatreds?!”

As if he hadn’t heard, Chi Yingxue took the small square and tossed it into his mouth.

Indeed, it wasn’t sweet. There was just a faint butter taste and a hint of some unknown fruity fragrance.

Licking the cake crumbs off his thumb, Chi Yingxue felt somewhat unsatisfied and wanted to talk more with Kuang Jinxin. But when he looked up, he saw Captain Xu and Advisor Wu’s faces in front of him—one with a bright smile showing a row of white teeth, and the other with a clear, wise gaze, subtly expressing a joy and anticipation of “I think we can sit down and do some research.”

Kuang Jinxin was already taken by Qian Ai to the long dining table, happily lost in a world of cupcakes, donuts, fruit salads, and sandwiches.

Chi Yingxue discreetly shifted his gaze away from the long dining table and raised an inquiring eyebrow to the two. “?”

Captain Xu gently started. “Xiao Xue…”

Chi Yingxue smiled. “Speak. What’s, the, matter?”

Realizing that acting cute wasn’t quite suitable for the new teammate, Captain Xu immediately switched to a more serious demeanor. “I want to talk to you again about the badges.”

Upon hearing this, Chi Yingxue understood and promptly replied, “I currently have five badges. Besides the castle badge, I also have badges from levels 1, 3, 4, and 8. Except for 8/23, if guys want to collect the others, I can lead the way.”

Xu Wang was surprised by his frankness.

Wu Sheng was more concerned about the implied information in the answer. “Does the hidden location of each level’s badge never change?”

Chi Yingxue hadn’t really thought about this question. When asked, his gaze gradually drifted to an unknown place, falling into memories.

After a while.

“Hard to say.” Chi Yingxue shook his head, giving the most truthful information he could. “I only found the badges from levels 3, 4, 6, and 8 once. Only the badge from level 1, I’ve found three times, with different teams. The location was the same for the first and third times, but it changed the second time.”

Captain Xu remarked, “You mentioned earlier that the badges are related to challenges after 13/23…”

“Something I overheard from a badge-seeking team I once followed.” Chi Yingxue half-joked, half-seriously sighed with a bit of regret. “If I knew it would be useful today, I should have listened more carefully.”

Captain Xu teased, “Was it really an accidental slip of the tongue, or did you intentionally eavesdrop?”

Chi Yingxue laughed, as if recalling something interesting. “I think it’s the former, but the other party firmly believes it’s the latter.”

“……” A team strictly guarding against newcomers and a newcomer who didn’t want to blend in at all, Xu Wang really didn’t know how to comment on this kind of inevitable tragedy.

At this point, the information was clear; the new teammate could only provide “related to after 13/23” and “location information of four badges”, with the latter not necessarily still valid.

Wu Sheng fell into deep thought.

Xu Wang, after pondering for a moment, flexibly switched to Plan B, scanning the entire banquet hall and, sure enough, caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd.

Chi Yingxue had been waiting for Xu Wang to ask a certain question since the beginning of the conversation. Seeing that Xu Wang was about to stand up, he couldn’t restrain himself and took the initiative. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

Xu Wang looked back at him.

[Except for 8/23, if guys want to collect the others, I can lead the way.]

These were the new teammate’s exact words.

The meaning was already clear. Xu Wang thought they had an unspoken understanding, but now it seemed that more communication was needed.

“It wasn’t you who was looking for that badge.” Xu Wang simply stated the facts without much emotional inclination.

This wasn’t the first time Chi Yingxue revealed his split personality to a new team, but this was indeed the first time he met such a calm captain.

Suddenly, he became curious. “If one day I disappear and he comes out, would you kick me out?”

Xu Wang had actually thought about this question. “If you had asked me yesterday, I might have hesitated, as the memories of the amusement park aren’t very pleasant.”

Chi Yingxue’s smile faded, asking lightly, “Changed your mind now?”

“Last night’s badge was obtained by both of you working together,” Xu Wang said softly and sincerely, looking directly into his eyes as if to see through to another soul. “From the moment he took action, he was already a member of this team.”

Chi Yingxue narrowed his eyes, observing for a long while, then understood. “He hasn’t woken up yet. He can’t hear you talking.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Xu Wang complained, glancing at him as if the affectionate captain just now was an illusion.

Chi Yingxue: “……”

This wasn’t the first time he had been honest about his split personality with a new team, but this was the first time he encountered a captain who was so proactive and already trying to connect with the other him…

“You guys continue talking. I’ll be right back.” Seeing the person Xu Wang had locked onto chatting happily with another incomplete team, looking ready to join, Xu Wang couldn’t wait any longer. He left this message and immediately stood up, to prevent the person from disappearing into a new team before he could ask his questions.

Chi Yingxue watched him stride quickly towards the mercenary named Wang Chuming, guessing his intention.

Turning back to Wu Sheng, who was still in front of him, he couldn’t figure out what there was to talk about with him.

Wu Sheng had already sorted out the clues about the badge and could finally close this matter for the time being, opening a second line of questioning. “Are you better at close combat or long-range attacks?”

Chi Yingxue: “Huh?”

Advisor Wu continued on his own. “I notice you don’t like using stationery often. Can you specify your preference for stationery?”

Chi Yingxue: “Preference?”

Wu Sheng: “Do you prefer defense, offense, or illusory stationery? Do you prefer attack or manipulative types?”

Chi Yingxue: “……”

Wu Sheng: “Don’t worry. I won’t devise any complex tactics for you. Understanding your preferences gives you more room to perform.”

Chi Yingxue: “……”

“What concerns do you have?” Wu Sheng couldn’t understand the other’s silence. “You did an excellent job with the badge-finding mission last night.” He patted his shoulder, trying to convey a reassuring strength with his determined gaze. “Keep it up. I will fulfill all your fantasies about battle.”

Chi Yingxue: “……”

……

Beijing time, Xu Wang finished his secret talk with Wang Chuming and gathered all his teammates in a safe corner to share the intelligence immediately.

“A badge manual?” Everyone, including Chi Yingxue, was hearing about this for the first time.

Xu Wang nodded, looked around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, and then spoke in a low voice. “Yes, this manual has hints for the badge locations of levels 1–13.”

“I knew it.” Qian Ai finally resolved his doubts. “Finding a small badge in such a large challenge, even if it can glow, you need to search for the right place. It’s not that easy to find each one.”

Wu Sheng asked, “How can we get this manual?”

Xu Wang replied, “Buy it.”

Kuang Jinxin, Qian Ai: “Buy?”

Xu Wang: “In any shop in any level in the Owl.”

Qian Ai: “With RMB?”

Xu Wang: “Yes.”

Qian Ai: “How much?”

Xu Wang: “One hundred thousand.”

Qian Ai: “…Actually, searching the ocean is also good, really.”

“Captain.” Kuang Jinxin remembered another question. “You just asked about such a secretive matter, and Wang Chuming answered?”

“I have to discuss this with you; due to the special circumstances, I used public funds,” Xu Wang said. “Intelligence fee, twenty thousand.”

Qian Ai: “Twenty thousand?!”

Xu Wang: “He hasn’t had business for a while. He’s relying on these two pieces of information for his New Year’s.”

Chi Yingxue: “Two pieces?”

Xu Wang paused, again ensuring there were no eavesdroppers, before slowly revealing the second piece of intelligence. “Thirteen badges are the key to unlocking the challenges after 13/23.”

Kuang Jinxin: “But no team has reached beyond 13/23, right?”

Xu Wang shook his head. “It’s not that no one has, but our current leaderboard only shows levels 1-13.”

Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin were both confused.

Chi Yingxue vaguely understood a bit, but it wasn’t entirely clear.

The always-quiet Wu Sheng spoke up. “High school and university.”

“Right.” Xu Wang knew his advisor would understand immediately. “The first 13 levels and the next 10 are like two completely different schools, and their report cards are independent of each other. Moreover, teams that have passed 13/23 never returned.”

“That explains why there are so many unfamiliar names on the speed rankings.” Wu Sheng finally resolved a long-standing puzzle. “Those teams that broke records might have given up later, but more likely, they’ve advanced to higher challenges.”

“If they never returned,” Qian Ai wondered, “where did Wang Chuming get his information?”

“From the endless sea.” Xu Wang sighed. “I heard it cost a pretty penny to buy.”

Qian Ai: “Definitely not cheap. He already scammed us out of twenty thousand.”

Xu Wang: “He was asking for fifty thousand.”

Qian Ai: “Captain, I knew I was right to trust you.”

Chi Yingxue: “……”

Now that the whole story was clear, Wu Sheng looked at Xu Wang, seeking the key point. “A shop? Payment?”

“Of course, I asked,” Xu Wang assured him with a look that said, “you can trust me with this matter”. “There’s a shop in this challenge, right below the banquet hall, and it accepts cash payments, but there’s an ATM.”

Kuang Jinxin: “We can withdraw money here?”

Xu Wang: “If Wang Chuming wasn’t lying.”

Qian Ai: “If he dares to take so much money and still give false information, I’ll chase him to the ends of the earth…”

Soon, the five of them arrived at the staircase leading to the basement level mentioned by Wang Chuming. It was an inconspicuous little door, which led to a dimly lit staircase extending downwards.

Xu Wang and Wu Sheng led the way, with Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin in the middle and Chi Yingxue at the back.

While descending, Chi Yingxue was still pondering how Xu Wang instantly grasped the whole picture from Wu Sheng’s simple words “A shop? Payment?” It wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred. Apart from carrying a passive-activated [(Illusory) Soul Understanding], Chi Yingxue couldn’t think of any other explanation…

Three minutes later, they reached the bottom of the stairs, where a very simple grocery store awaited them. It resembled a stall commonly seen in a vegetable market, with various items laid out haphazardly. A smiling old lady sat inside, welcoming them with her kind eyes as they appeared at the top of the stairs.

This so-called “basement level” was just a small area, enough for the grocery store and an ATM, leaving barely any room for the five of them.

“What would you like?” the old lady asked kindly. “Sugar? Fruits? Bread?”

Xu Wang stepped forward, saying clearly, “I would like to buy a badge manual.”

The old lady still smiled warmly. “Two hundred thousand. Please pay in cash.”

Xu Wang, Qian Ai: “……Wasn’t it one hundred thousand?!”

The old lady looked confused. “Hmm?”

The teammates unanimously turned to their team captain.

Captain Xu felt immense pressure. “Wang Chuming definitely said it was one hundred thousand, and it was bought in this challenge, but that was half a year ago. It’s possible that prices have soared since then…”

Qian Ai despaired. “Isn’t this price increase a bit too extreme…”

Wu Sheng sighed, asking the most practical question. “How much is left in the public funds?”

Xu Wang sighed even deeper. “I just spent twenty thousand, so there’s only one hundred and forty thousand left.”

They had been busy in the Endless Sea for a month, and this was all they had saved in the public wallet. They thought they were being economical, but now they were in debt overnight.

“Let’s pool our resources,” Qian Ai, heartbroken, suggested. “We need to buy it anyway, better sooner than later.” If they waited and the price increased further, he feared every time he saw the manual, his heart would ache.

Xu Wang: “That’s the only option.”

Fortunately, not all the cash from the Endless Sea’s treasure chest had been confiscated; some went to those who opened the chest.

Given the circumstances, they had to contribute as much as they could.

Xu Wang prepared to withdraw the public account funds from the ATM, inserting the card.

Just as he was about to insert the card, a hand suddenly appeared, blocking the slot.

Xu Wang followed the arm to its owner, Chi Yingxue. “What’s wrong?”

Chi Yingxue’s eyes held a faint question. “Public wallet?”

Xu Wang had only discussed emotions with the new teammate, planning to talk about money once their relationship was stable. Otherwise, if they disbanded tomorrow after paying today, it would be awkward to discuss refunds.

But since the new teammate brought it up, he took the opportunity to explain. “Yes, we set up a team public account for all team expenses on an AA* basis.”

*It’s a term basically meaning going Dutch (where everyone pays for their own expenses).

Chi Yingxue thought for a moment, then confirmed again. “There’s only one hundred and forty thousand left in the account?”

“Yes.” Now that they were on the topic, Xu Wang had nothing to hide.

Chi Yingxue pulled out a wallet from his pocket, inserted a card into the ATM. “I benefited from the intelligence. I’ll pay my share for the manual. It’s only fair that I contribute.”

Xu Wang was surprised by how swiftly he took action. Before he could say anything, Chi Yingxue was already entering his PIN.

The other four teammates instinctively turned away to avoid seeing the PIN.

For the next few minutes, they just heard the machine counting and dispensing money.

Finally, when everything quieted down, they turned back to see Chi Yingxue holding a stack of cash, which was quite a spectacle.

“Is that… forty thousand?” Qian Ai blinked hard, feeling his perception of money’s volume a bit blurred.

“One hundred thousand,” Chi Yingxue replied.

Xu Wang held his forehead, worried about his new teammate’s math skills. “Even adding the previous twenty thousand, the public wallet only has one hundred and sixty thousand. Each person should contribute forty thousand. Why are you taking out one hundred thousand?”

Chi Yingxue explained, “Forty thousand for tuition, sixty thousand as a transfer sponsorship fee.”

Kuang Jinxin: “Transfer?”

Qian Ai: “Sponsorship?”

Xu Wang looked at his new teammate with mixed feelings. “I just want to ask one question. How did such a shiny classmate like you end up with no school willing to take you in?”

Chi Yingxue slightly curled his lips. “Perhaps they still think that money is less important than life.”

Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, Qian Ai, Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Is this some kind of midnight horror story?!

“Alright, now that you’ve joined our team, even if you’re rich, you have to follow our rules,” Xu Wang said. “The cost of the badge manual will be split equally among us.”

The captain’s word was final—no objections allowed.

Under the supervision of his teammates, Chi Yingxue redeposited the extra money. While listening to the machine count the cash, he wondered if he was the first customer to use the machine’s “deposit” feature.

They handed over two hundred thousand in cash to the old lady, who counted it carefully. After she counted the last bill, all the money suddenly vanished.

At the same time, all five of them heard a “ding——”

Inside their [Stationery Box], in the hidden item compartment for storing badges, a new icon appeared in the bottom right corner. [Small Booklet].

Upon opening it, the hints for the hidden badges from levels 1–13 were revealed—

Bear’s Paw.

Land of Rampant Desire.

Waxing Crescent Moon.

Ghost in the Wall.

Water Lily.

Wu Sheng: “The hints for 4/23 and 6/23 don’t match the methods and locations where we found the badges.”

Xu Wang: “Wang Chuming said these hints change periodically as the corresponding badges are found.”

Qian Ai: “Can I apply to permanently skip the fifth level…”

Kuang Jinxin: “Qian Ge, don’t you love horror movies? Whether they’re Chinese, American, Japanese, Korean, Indian, or Thai.”

Qian Ai: “Just because I like watching them doesn’t mean I like digging into walls to find ghosts…”

“Did everyone receive the manual?” From behind the miscellaneous goods, the old lady’s caring voice came.

Xu Wang returned a painful but polite smile to the old lady. “Yes, we received it.”

Forty thousand per person!

“Good to hear.” The old lady was relieved, then reached out to an old-fashioned European-style cast iron bell next to her. “Now for the free gift.”

The teammates: “……Free gift?”

“Ding ding ding~~~”

As the bell rang out with an antique sound, the five friends felt a darkness before their eyes and their bodies lightened.

When they opened their eyes again, they were standing in front of a familiar European-style manor.

“Ding—”

[Cheat Sheet]: Welcome to the [Flying Island VIP Lounge].

“Ding—”

[Cheat Sheet]: Dear guests, I am the butler of this place, Xiao Feidao! I will guide you from now on, ensuring you are fully recharged before the next midnight arrives.

“Captain!” Kuang Jinxin looked at Xu Wang excitedly. “This is the Flying Island’s VIP Lounge!”

Qian Ai couldn’t help but pat their captain on the back. “We just saved on airfare! Haha!”

Wu Sheng was also satisfied. “Now we can focus on planning our tactics.”

Chi Yingxue was indifferent to food and accommodation, but resting comfortably was certainly better than being on the road.

Among all the teammates, only Captain Xu looked up at the sky in silence.

He wanted to return to Beijing!

This “accidental” transport to a faraway place like Chongqing—what kind of devil’s gift was this?!

……

Twenty-two hours later, the rare extended rest in Beijing time left the teammates more spirited than ever. Even the sulky Captain Xu, after a long sleep, had come to terms with it. After all, having waited ten years, another day and a half didn’t make much difference.

Regarding the challenge of 7/23, Chi Yingxue provided clear and simple information: it was a board game.

There was no map, no new world, no quest line—just each team selecting a representative to play a board game in a room with only one round table.

As for the content of the board game and whether there would be any other storylines or tasks interrupting the game, Chi Yingxue knew nothing. The only time he entered 7/23, just as he saw his team’s representative enter the game room, his body switched to his other self.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Midnight Owl Ch90

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 90: Treatment

7 a.m., Anyang City, a luxury suite in a hotel.

This was a spacious suite, large enough to host a small party. Seven hours earlier, Wang Duanran’s team of five was leisurely chatting here, discussing whether to help another team submit their task after obtaining the Castle Badge, to end the challenge early and come back for a rest.

At that time, none of the five could have imagined that they would welcome the sunrise in a state of physical and mental exhaustion.

The first to be hit by the sunlight was Jiang Dachuan, lying on the sofa near the window. He irritably covered his eyes, and after a while, feeling the heat, he slapped the sofa and sat up abruptly, finally erupting, “If we had given our all from the start, we could have definitely won!”

Kong Lizhe, lying on a nearby recliner and playing with a spare phone, didn’t take his eyes off it. “Being able to make others underestimate you is also a kind of strength.”

Jiang Dachuan was frustrated. If making the opponent underestimate them was a tactic, then the bizarre appearance of [Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea] was definitely crucial…

No, he felt uncomfortable just thinking about it. He wanted to report it!

Gu Nian closed the detective novel he had been unable to get into and looked up. He rarely had things he couldn’t understand, but this morning, the confusion lingering on his face was evident. “How exactly did they break the [Meng Po Soup]…”

At the same time, Anyang City, a standard double room in an ordinary hotel.

Chi Yingxue finally fell asleep after Kuang Jinxin experimentally gave him a second pillow.

Even though he was about the same height as Wu Sheng, around 187 or 188 cm, curled up, he didn’t take up much space. Lying there with a pillow under his head and hugging another, his expression was relaxed and even a bit lazy from exhaustion, but his body was tense, as if trying to curl into an invisible point.

The contrast between his defenseless sleeping face and his extremely guarded sleeping posture was stark and strange.

The four teammates squatting by the bed looked at each other, communicating silently through their eyes—

Xu Wang nodded slightly—He should be really asleep this time.

Kuang Jinxin let out a slight sigh of relief—Mm.

Wu Sheng curiously raised an eyebrow—How did you think to give him another pillow?

Kuang Jinxin tilted his head, hands cupped beneath his chin—Holding something while sleeping feels secure.

Qian Ai widened his eyes—What are you all even talking about?!

Ever since coming out from the Owl, Chi Yingxue had been in a state of confused consciousness. He was mumbling incoherently, not fully asleep, yet not fully awake. The four teammates, not knowing where he stayed the previous night, had to carry him back to their hotel.

Advisor Wu analyzed for the teammates the cause of this situation—memory loss from [Meng Po Soup] affecting a single personality, leading to the switch to a second personality, and the restoration of the first personality after breaking the [Meng Po Soup] spell, leading to a competition between the two personalities.

The teammates listened carefully and silently digested this for half a minute.

From the time they returned to the hotel, the four had been by the bed, not moving an inch, worrying about Chi Yingxue’s restlessness. Now, they could finally relax a bit and take a breather.

They were unaware of when the day had broken. Looking outside now, it was already bright and sunny.

“Buzz—”

The vibrating sound of a phone rang out in the quiet room.

The four teammates were startled, looking at each other with innocent faces, searching for the source of the sound, only to find it under the blanket on the bed, from the new teammate’s phone.

The recently asleep Chi Yingxue became restless again, seemingly annoyed by the sound, frowning and hugging the pillow tighter.

The vibration finally stopped.

But before the teammates could relax, the “buzzing” started again, relentless.

“Nn—” Chi Yingxue groaned uncomfortably, eyes still closed, but one hand, as if with its own consciousness, released the pillow, fumbled for the phone, digging it out of his trouser pocket, and threw it away.

The four teammates by the bed were completely unprepared for this action, instinctively dodging to avoid being hit in the face by the flying phone.

The poor phone landed onto the carpet with a thud, still vibrating.

The teammates: “……”

Wastefulness is the deadliest thing!

Chi Yingxue, now comfortable, turned over and continued sleeping.

On the other side, Xu Wang quickly picked up the innocent phone, noticing that although it landed on the carpet, the corner of the screen was still cracked.

Two missed calls on the phone—from Chi Zhuolin.

“Buzz—”

Great, the third call was coming in.

Xu Wang hesitated between answering and muting it, but on the bed, Chi Yingxue suddenly opened his eyes, clear and alert, devoid of any confusion or fatigue—a stark contrast to the pillow-loving person a second ago.

The three teammates by the bed were caught off guard, unsure how to greet him.

Chi Yingxue sat up, glanced at the bed, then at Xu Wang and the familiar phone in his hand, understanding the situation.

“You guys must have had a hard time because of me,” he said apologetically and calmly, with warmth. “I’m back.”

Those simple words carried a declaration of sovereignty.

When he was previously restless, the teammates even discussed that if the awakened personality was a different one, whether they would have to “welcome” him again or bring up the “grudges of the amusement park” and the “achievement of obtaining the badge”. Now, it seemed that none of those were necessary.

The awakened Chi Yingxue was the same as when they first met, distinct from the Chi Yingxue who was dressed in beach holiday style in the cold at the amusement park, making it hard to mistake him for anyone else.

Xu Wang quickly handed him the phone, wanting to explain that the screen was cracked by his own doing, but the fourth vibration came.

Chi Yingxue took the phone, not even looking at the cracked screen corner, pressed to answer, and got out of bed.

“Did you break your phone again—”

As soon as the call connected, this sentence sprang from the earpiece, carrying the impatience of the previous unanswered calls and an almost divinatory guess at the situation.

“Chi Zhuolin, it’s me.” Chi Yingxue pressed the phone to his ear, making the voice from the earpiece indistinct.

“Yes…”

“Henan…”

“Pretty good…”

“Who knows…”

As Chi Yingxue entered the bathroom and closed the door, the call was completely cut off.

From start to finish, the teammates only heard one sentence from the other end of the phone, but Chi Yingxue’s five sentences left them completely baffled.

“Chi Zhuolin?” Wu Sheng repeated the name just heard.

“Yes, Zhuo as in ‘outstanding’, Lin as in ‘to arrive’*.” Xu Wang was the only one who had seen how those few characters were written.

*Clarity: [Zhuo] (卓) from [zhuoyue] (卓越). [Lin] (临) from [Jianglin] (降临).

Kuang Jinxin asked, “Both are surnamed Chi. Is it a family member?”

Qian Ai frowned. “The way he’s calling non-stop, it sounds more like a debt collector.”

The gossip was brief, as Chi Yingxue ended the call and came out of the bathroom.

Before his teammates could ask, he explained directly. “Chi Zhuolin,” pausing for a moment before adding, “is my brother.”

The four teammates: “…Oh.”

Guessing he was a relative, and with the teammate being upfront about it, there seemed little else to respond with other than nodding.

“It’s nothing. I’m always running around outside every day, so it’s just a routine check-in.” Chi Yingxue put his phone back in his pocket.

This further explanation dispelled any doubts the four might have had. It was a private matter, after all, and basic communication sufficed.

“Where are you staying?” Xu Wang asked. “Are you going back to rest, or are you checking out and moving over to join us?”

Chi Yingxue pondered for a moment, sensing the implication of victory in the question, and raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You submitted the papers?”

“Yes.” Xu Wang was about to ask if he still had amnesia, but then realized that at the moment of obtaining the badge, it wasn’t the Chi Yingxue in front of him and hurriedly corrected himself. “Both the badge and the submission were successfully completed.”

Having a teammate with dual personalities was useful, but it could be exhausting…

Chi Yingxue tilted his head slightly, looking over his four teammates with a bit of surprise. “Those few with good strength, not bad.”

He knew he was capable of obtaining the badge, even if it required the other him to step in, but he didn’t expect the remaining four to also complete the submission.

The new teammate’s recognition left the team in an awkward silence.

After a while.

Wu Sheng patted their team captain on the shoulder. “Let it be.”

Xu Wang nodded. “Building a sense of team belonging takes time.”

Qian Ai brainwashed himself. “Just focus on combat ability, yes, combat ability.”

Kuang Jinxin shook his head in resignation, then turned to look at Chi Yingxue’s arm, which was slightly stained red through the bandage. “You should change that dressing.”

“……” Chi Yingxue felt like their words all translated to the same thing—there will be time in the future. I don’t have the same opinion as you now.

In the end, Chi Yingxue didn’t change the dressing and went back to his own hotel. Fortunately, he had a bit of team spirit left and said he would pack up his stuff and check out to join them in the evening for the “Owl”.

Watching Chi Yingxue get into a taxi, Qian Ai couldn’t help but mutter, “Does he not know what pain is?”

No one spoke.

That question could only be answered by Chi Yingxue himself.

Back in their room, the four teammates each took a nap. Wu Sheng fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down. The battles of the night had been as exhausting as three nights combined, and now he didn’t want to move even a finger, letting both his body and mind recharge.

Xu Wang was also tired and lay on the bed, but he couldn’t fall asleep.

He had been worried about Chi Yingxue before and hadn’t had time to think about anything else. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, the letters that had been lurking at the bottom of his heart started to stir, making him restless.

His biggest regret now was not bringing those letters with him.

How heavy could a few pieces of paper be? Could they earn interest hidden at home?!

If he could use a stationery item, he would immediately use an [(Illusory) Out-of-Body Experience] to rush back to Beijing. But reality was that his teammates were looking forward to the next day’s rewards and the day after’s new challenges. He couldn’t just suddenly say he wanted to go back to Beijing, could he?

Of course, if there was a valid reason, he believed his teammates wouldn’t mind accompanying him back once. But could he tell them? Could he say, “I think there might be an unsolved code from ten years ago, and now I want to go back and take another look, to study it”?

…Why did he have to like Wu Sheng so much! If he liked a simple and sweet person, he might already be in the seven-year itch phase by now!

Wu Sheng woke up in the afternoon. Opening his eyes, he saw his team captain sleeping on the other bed, turned towards him, with furrowed brows and a tight grip on the blanket, looking angry as if fighting someone in his dreams.

He thought the other must be dreaming about the challenge. After watching quietly for a while, he couldn’t resist reaching over to gently smooth the furrow on his team captain’s brow.

Only when Xu Wang’s brow relaxed did Wu Sheng get up satisfied, refreshed, and went to the bathroom to start a new day!

In the evening, the fully reunited team of five had their first meal together in full force at a hotel nearby.

During the meal, Xu Wang, on behalf of the whole team, extended a warm and friendly welcome to the new teammate, Classmate Chi. The latter seemed not quite used to such a team-building atmosphere and was initially a bit uncomfortable. However, when Qian Ai started live streaming, the other members naturally dispersed, leaving the camera to the host for a solo shot. Amidst phrases like “Thanks to Brother XX for the yacht” and “What? It’s a sister, haha,” he continued to eat and drink with ease. After this, Chi Yingxue didn’t have any more issues adapting…

Like the “[Mirage] plan” from the night before, it was better not to overthink it and just go with the flow.

Another midnight arrived, and the small team, no longer needing to complete challenges, refreshed in the banquet hall.

As soon as they stood still, they received the reward notification—

Xu Wang’s [Stationery Box]: Received [(Defense) Slipping Hands], [(Offense) Voodoo Doll], [(Illusory) Don’t Want to Grow Up].

Wu Sheng’s [Stationery Box]: Received [(Defense) Poison Immunity], [(Offense) Travel Hammer], [(Illusory) I’m Really Scared].

Qian Ai’s [Stationery Box]: Received [(Defense) Cloak of Invisibility, [(Offense) Gemini Jumping Machine], [(Illusory) Ah, Dropped Money]

Kuang Jinxin’s [Stationery Box]: Received [(Defense) Lost in a Five-Mile Fog], [(Offense) Whose Hand is Brushing Your Black Hair, Whose Hand], [(Illusory) Reincarnate of Hua Tuo*].

*Hua Tao was a Chinese physician famous for his medical skills, so this stationery is basically saying someone as skilled (in medicine) as Hua Tao (thus his reincarnation).

Chi Yingxue’s [Stationery Box]: Received [(Defense) Mr. Thirteen of the Middle Ring], [(Offense) Romantic Afternoon Tea], [(Illusory) I Advise You to Be Kind].

The five teammates found a secluded corner to check the rewards and naturally shared with each other.

Xu Wang: “Lao Qian, your illusory stationery [Ah, Dropped Money] won’t backfire on the teammates, right?”

Qian Ai: “As the team captain, shouldn’t you be more concerned about the user, me?!”

Kuang Jinxin: “Sheng Ge, what does your illusory stationery [I’m Really Scared] mean?”

Wu Sheng: “I’ll tell you once I’ve figured it out.”

Qian Ai: “Hey, Xiao Xue, I’m familiar with [Mr. Thirteen of the Middle Ring]!”

Chi Yingxue: “Xiao… Xue?”

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Reincarnate of Huo Tuo] on you~~]

Chi Yingxue’s dangerous gaze, brewing due to the new nickname, dissipated cleanly amidst the sudden prompt sound.

The nail injury under the arm bandage and various bruises from the physical fight with Jiang Dachuan were all healed in an instant, as good as new.

Those pains he didn’t care about, but were real, disappeared without a trace.

Only he could hear this prompt; Wu Sheng, Xu Wang, and Qian Ai were still discussing the uses of the new stationery, leaving Kuang Jinxin, who was staring at him, as if waiting for the effect.

Their eyes met, and the user asked uncertainly. “Is it okay now?”

Chi Yingxue nodded lightly. “Yes, full status.”

Kuang Jinxin sighed in relief; his expression seemed to say, That’s good.

Chi Yingxue smiled faintly. “Actually, it wasn’t necessary.”

Kuang Jinxin asked, “Does he also not fear pain?”

Chi Yingxue paused, and after a while, he realized who was being asked about and laughed. “Being overly sentimental” was a very novel experience for him—uncomfortable, but interesting.

“He does. He fears pain terribly.” His tone rose, carrying pleasure and schadenfreude.

Kuang Jinxin slightly frowned, feeling that the answer had a bit of intentional provocation.

“Hey.” Chi Yingxue suddenly leaned in close with a smile on his lips, but his eyes were cold. “Is this illusory stationery for me, or for him?”

Kuang Jinxin didn’t dodge, looking straight into his eyes. “For my teammate.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Midnight Owl Ch89

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 89: Victory

In mid-air, the cloud, finally neutralized by stationery from the effect of [Rising From the Ground], descended back to its original height.

A few meters away, the egrets were lined up in a row.

Xu Wang and his team didn’t dare to move rashly. Attacking from above wasn’t a winning strategy and going down to support Chi Yingxue risked being ambushed from behind by the cloud freed from [Rising From the Ground].

So, they firmly stuck to the original plan, one “dragging” and one “blocking”—dragging out time for Chi Yingxue to fight and blocking the cloud from the periphery.

However, they still couldn’t prevent what happened next. Kuang Jinxin, responsible for monitoring Chi Yingxue, was the first to report: “Captain, something’s wrong with him!”

All four looked down and saw Jiang Dachuan climbing up, with Chi Yingxue below, holding his foot but clearly enduring immense pain!

It was at this moment that the cloud descended to the same height as the egrets.

Chen Guan shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “It’s clear you’re determined to keep us away from the tree, so we won’t insist. But don’t be naive enough to think that we can’t attack just because we’re not close.

“Chi Yingxue—” Xu Wang didn’t bother with this provocation and directly asked his teammate below. “What’s the name of the stationery—”

There was no response.

Their newly frenzied teammate had blocked out everything around him. In his world, there was only Jiang Dachuan—he wouldn’t stop until Jiang Dachuan died!

Xu Wang felt conflicted; dealing with a teammate who went berserk at a moment’s notice was tough!

Without knowing the name of the stationery, the four of them couldn’t even begin to help from a distance!

“It looks like his heart is being stabbed,” Qian Ai offered his assistance. “I’ve experienced it. Everyone looks like this after being pierced!”

Xu Wang: “……”

[Owl: Someone used [(Defense) Heart of Steel*] on you~~]

*A man’s heart is as firm as steel/iron.

The stabbing pain in Chi Yingxue’s heart slowly faded away with the notification sound.

He took a light breath and smiled faintly at Jiang Dachuan above.

Jiang Dachuan, with one foot in his opponent’s hand, had been watching closely the whole time, and this smile sent chills down his spine.

He was going to lose.

Jiang Dachuan had a clear premonition.

He had faced many opponents and fought countless close-combat battles, but this was the first time he felt “fear” from an opponent.

This fear wasn’t about the opponent’s incredible combat strength, but something in his bones—something not human.

His ankle, now held by a recovered Chi Yingxue, was suddenly yanked!

Jiang Dachuan was pulled down from the tree trunk!

He managed to punch Chi Yingxue squarely in the chin, but Chi Yingxue returned a fierce kick to Jiang Dachuan’s calf with enough force that it could fracture his fragile body!

Jiang Dachuan went down and, in the last moment of his slide, wrapped his arms around a branch, barely hanging on without falling into the sea!

Chi Yingxue frowned slightly, seemingly dissatisfied that it wasn’t a fatal blow.

Jiang Dachuan prepared for his fingers to be broken or stepped on, but that move was actually very low. It wasn’t about looking good or bad, but because it had too many flaws. As long as Chi Yingxue dared to come close, he was confident he could pull him down first!

“You’re overthinking,” Chi Yingxue suddenly said, his voice carrying a certain pleasure and joy, matching his shining eyes. “I’m not interested in your fingers.”

He lightly jumped onto a nearby branch and then looked at the base of the branch holding Jiang Dachuan, eyes slightly narrowing, and raised his leg to kick!

Jiang Dachuan gasped.

Chi Yingxue wasn’t going to kick him; he was aiming to break the entire branch!

Jiang Dachuan had no doubt that Chi Yingxue had the strength to do it!

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Meng Po Soup*] on you~~]

*This comes from Chinese folklore, where you’re fed this soup once you die and transverse the underworld. The soup makes you forget everything, so you can reincarnate when you reach the Naihe Bridge.

Just as Chi Yingxue’s foot was about to touch the branch’s base, he heard the notification in his ear.

Then, Chi Yingxue froze.

Maintaining the kicking pose, he stood there, looking at the tree, then at his own foot, and then at Jiang Dachuan, utterly bewildered.

……

In Room 1639.

Zou Jun: “What’s happening?”

Zhu Mo: “Some kind of stationery forcing love and peace, or amnesia, perhaps.”

Feng Rang: “Why be the vanguard when you can be played to death like this…”

Wei Menghan: “……”

Zhu Mo: “Teacher Wei?”

Wei Menghan: “The outcome is decided. But they’ve already done well to last this long.”

Zhu Mo understood his team leader’s point. Psychic control-type illusory stationeries were almost unsolvable unless you happened to have the one or two stationeries that could counter them.

He looked up at the few people on the egret. From the team captain to the team members, their eyes all showed more or less a hint of panic. Clearly, they had no solution to this illusory stationery.

But—

Zhu Mo’s gaze fell on the only calm face among them.

He didn’t know his name, but if he remembered correctly, this should be the advisor. And now, in his eyes, he saw an astonishing composure and confidence.

“They might not lose.” Zhu Mo paused, then shook his head. “No, they will win.”.

……

Mid-air.

Xu Wang made a decision and looked at Wu Sheng.

However, the latter gently shook his head.

Unable to hold back, Xu Wang blurted out in urgency, “Are we still waiting?”

Wu Sheng remained silent, but his attitude was clear.

Xu Wang anxiously looked down. Jiang Dachuan was about to climb onto a branch. Now, Chi Yingxue seemed like an innocent and naive girl who could be easily pushed off without using force.

They held the trump card but delayed until now. If they failed, they would vomit three pounds of blood!

“We can’t break the illusion,” Xu Wang said, not fearing being overheard by the opponents. The priority was to remind his own advisor.

“I know.” Wu Sheng also watched below. Every second now could affect the battle. “But don’t forget, he’s not fighting alone.”

Xu Wang instantly understood his intention and said in disbelief, “Are you betting on this at such a time?”

“It’s not a bet, but maximizing the potential of variables,” Wu Sheng replied, looking at Xu Wang. “That is, if you really want to integrate him into our combat system.”

Xu Wang looked at his advisor and finally made up his mind. “Okay, I’ll listen to you.”

Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Qian Ai: “……”

What did the leaders discuss? They couldn’t understand at all!

On the opposite cloud.

Kong Lize: “They…”

Gu Nian: “Are using us…”

Chen Guan: “To adapt?”

“Dachuan!” Wang Duan suddenly exclaimed with worry and disbelief.

Everyone immediately looked down!

But it was too late.

Jiang Dachuan, who had just managed to climb back onto the branch due to the opponent’s memory loss, fell into the sea along with his branch.

His face showed disbelief as he fell.

While Chi Yingxue, seemingly indifferent, reached a higher position, not even glancing at the broken branch, as if he knew Jiang Dachuan had no way back.

He easily picked a shiny badge.

[Owl: Congratulations on finding the Castle Badge of 6/23!]

Everything happened in a flash—too fast for Jiang Dachuan to react and too unexpected for the four on the cloud!

Even Kuang Jinxin and Qian Ai were baffled, while Wu Sheng just shrugged at Xu Wang. “I told you, I would improve.”

Xu Wang wanted to rush at him with the egret. “How can you be so cool!”

……

An hour ago, after returning safely from the oil painting, on the way to tell the truth to the girl with braids in 1829.

A secret conversation among the team leaders happened.

Xu Wang: “Chi Yingxue won’t cooperate with our tactics. He likes freedom.”

Wu Sheng: “Not even a little hope?”

Xu Wang: “No.”

Wu Sheng: “Understood, I will improve.”

Xu Wang: “You will improve?”

Wu Sheng: “A mature combat system must accommodate all variables. If it can maximize the utility of variables, it will approach perfection.”

Xu Wang: “Well, don’t overdo it. If it’s perfect, what else is there to pursue in life?”

Wu Sheng: “God level.”

Xu Wang: “…Go ahead, strive for it, as long as you’re happy.”

……

Wang Duan didn’t want to hear the opponents complimenting each other, nor could he accept the outcome.

He looked at Chi Yingxue incredulously below. “When did you break the illusion?”

Chi Yingxue, pushing away annoying branches blocking his view, looked innocently at him. “Why break something I never fell for?”

Not only Wang Duan, but all four on the cloud were stunned.

Chi Yingxue sighed, saying earnestly, “Next time you try to control me, please use a double portion.” As he said this, his gaze shifted from their faces to their clothes, frowning. “Your taste and combat ability don’t match. These are the ugliest coats I’ve ever seen.”

Wang Duan, Chen Guan, Gu Nian, Kong Lize: “…”

Chi Yingxue gasped in pain, as if realizing it for the first time, and checked his bandaged arm, the bruises on his chest, and the soreness on his chin. Each injury he found deepened his frown, not in pain but simple unhappiness.

[Your only task is the badge.]

Wu Sheng’s mission echoed in his mind.

It must be Wu Sheng.

Throughout the battle, this mission, like a brand, was repeatedly emphasized in his mind by that person, almost brainwashing.

He couldn’t ignore it, even if he wanted to.

Chi Yingxue looked down at his chest, as if, through it, he could see someone else.

He hadn’t cooperated with his other self for many years, especially in the last two, almost becoming enemies. He never expected that they would cooperate again, especially for a team they joined only hours ago.

At least for the near future, he shouldn’t be kicked out. Chi Yingxue thought, not too sure.

On the clouds, all four pairs of eyes darkened, and even the usually calm Gu Nian showed a faint killing intent.

Xu Wang could feel it, and so could the onlookers like Han Buting and Wei Menghan.

In Room 1024.

“They’re serious now,” Han Buting said quietly.

Li Zijin didn’t understand. “Weren’t they serious before?”

Han Buting shook his head, no longer speaking.

It wasn’t just about being unserious; from the beginning, those on the clouds didn’t take their opponents seriously. Just like their team during the ambush in the amusement park, they thought it was easy, but the result was the same as today’s cloud team.

This fundamental mindset acted like a ceiling, unconsciously limiting their combat ability.

Even though they were irritated and hindered just now, they still thought it was within their control. This “contempt” was the main reason they lost the badge.

Now, with all goals gone, those on the clouds finally showed their true combat spirit.

On the clouds.

Chen Guan stared at Xu Wang and his team, asking without turning his head, “How much longer for the pause button?”

Kong Lize answered, “Six minutes.”

Chen Guan nodded. “Enough.”

Xu Wang frowned. “You still want to fight even without the badge?”

Wang Duan said, “From the moment you provoked us, you should have been prepared to go home early.”

Xu Wang was speechless. “It was you who provoked us first!”

Wang Duan replied, “But you ended up getting the badge.”

Xu Wang: “…That’s true.”

Wang Duan’s curly hair was almost dry from anger. “So since you got the badge, don’t just leave. It can’t be that you get all the benefits so easily.”

Xu Wang sighed and moved slightly out of the way on the white egret.

Advisor Wu calmly stepped forward. “You might not know, but our team’s principle is to have fun in challenges.”

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Time Flies] on you~~]

The four on the cloud were stunned. The shock of this moment surpassed all they had faced that night!

How is that possible?

How could it be?

Holding such an illusory stationery, fighting with them for so long, and using up so many stationeries, what for?!

Before the question could be asked, everyone—whether in battle or spectating—heard a notification sound that belonged to them.

[Owl: Dear~ I’m giving you an early holiday. Sending you home.]

[Owl: Congratulations on passing the 6/23 test and handing in your papers! See you tomorrow~~]

The latter sentence was the belated happiness for Xu Wang’s small team.

……

In a very remote part of Anyang city, under a sky covered with dark clouds blocking the moonlight, the darkness was eerily silent.

In the overgrown grass, where a person drenched and sullen was already standing, nine more appeared out of thin air after a while.

One of them appeared close to him, while the remaining eight were a few meters apart, facing each other in two groups of four.

Jiang Dachuan, full of pent-up anger and nowhere to vent, found his target of blame appearing right before him.

He didn’t even stop to think why the battle ended so quickly, but immediately bent down, grabbed Chi Yingxue by the collar, and yanked him up.

As he was about to deliver a retaliatory punch, Jiang Dachuan suddenly stopped.

The guy who had tormented him not long ago now had his eyes tightly closed, his eyebrows furrowed, sweat on his forehead, and was mumbling something like “get away”, “give it back”, “it’s not yours—”

Jiang Dachuan swallowed and felt a chill run down his spine.

This was even scarier than a ghost grabbing his foot!

“Hey, you… Don’t think you can get away with pretending to be possessed…”

“Let go of that young man!” Suddenly, a voice of justice roared nearby.

Before Jiang Dachuan could react, the person he was holding was snatched away by Qian Ai.

Qian Ai turned around, handed Chi Yingxue to Kuang Jinxin, who came with him, then took out his phone, weighing it in his hand while threatening, “We’re back in a lawful society. Do you still want to fight? Don’t think I won’t start a live broadcast right here!”

Jiang Dachuan: “……”

On the other side, Wang Duanran’s team didn’t make a move, but after being beaten, they needed an explanation.

“Why didn’t you use it from the start?”

Since they had the [Time Flies] stationery, they could have used it to submit immediately during the “Pause” effect, avoiding the subsequent entanglement and tough battle.

“We did plan to use it initially, but unfortunately, your attitude was poor.” Xu Wang looked towards Wu Sheng with a sigh. “So our advisor had to adjust the battle plan.”

Wu Sheng slightly tilted his head upwards, looking towards the dark clouds with a gaze as if admiring the moon, lost in thought. “I never thought of such double happiness. It’s all destiny pushing us forward.”

Wang Duanran, Chen Guan, Kong Lizhe: “……”

Such anti-human dialogue, such a provoking demeanor…

Gu Nian: “Let’s exchange names.”

Xu Wang, Wu Sheng: “Goodbye.”

……

Not far away, in the grass.

Wei Menghan’s team, lying hidden, watched Xu Wang and Wu Sheng turn around to join their other two teammates, picking up their fifth unconscious teammate, shoulder to shoulder, striding away with style.

Then… they walked faster and faster, disappearing into the vast night with a strong desire to survive.

The other team also didn’t stay long, eventually leaving silently in the opposite direction.

Heading back to the city center should be in the same direction, but the fact that the other team chose the other end, avoiding the usual path, was intriguing.

“They’re probably afraid of not being able to control themselves from fighting.” Zou Jun saw through it, hitting the nail on the head.

“However, anyone who loses so thoroughly would feel devastated.” Feng Rang felt a bit sympathetic towards the other team. “From the start, they were bound to win, ready to submit anytime if things went south.”

Zhu Mo sighed lightly, both in reflection and admiration. “But in the end, they still managed to earn the badge.”

Wei Menghan flipped over, lying on his back, looking up at the sky. The dark night matched his mood. “When we met in the Moonlight Maze, we were still acting experienced and teaching others.”

Zhu Mo patted his shoulder to comfort him. “Anyway, they are indeed a team of newcomers.”

Wei Menghan shook his head and remained silent.

Newcomers indeed, but they weren’t rookies. Clearly, they were a bunch of young phoenixes!

Once they gain experience and fully spread their wings, becoming immortal phoenixes, anyone who encounters them will be burnt to ashes…

……

Much later.

Behind a mound.

“Captain?” Li Xia looked worriedly at Han Buting, who had been silent since they emerged, and now that almost all challengers had dispersed, only their team remained in this desolate wilderness.

“It’s okay.” Han Buting rubbed his temples, turned his head, and asked Li Xia and Li Zijin, “What do you think?”

Li Zijin pouted reluctantly and grumbled, “What else can we think? If it were us today, we’d be obliterated in three minutes.”

Han Buting asked, “Replace us with which team?”

Li Zijin fell silent for a moment before saying, “It doesn’t matter which team.”

“They have changed since 3/23.” Li Xia looked at his captain. “We’re still in the same place, no, even worse.”

“Yes.” Han Buting pushed back his hair from his forehead, exhaling. “If we want to keep moving forward, we can’t keep wandering like this.”

Li Xia and Li Zijin knew that once their captain got this way, he had a plan.

“First step, solidify the team.” In the quiet night, Han Buting led his team to stand on the starting line once again.


The author has something to say:

A tough battle. Congratulations to Xu Wang’s small team for advancing from Bronze to Silver~~ (~ ̄▽ ̄)~


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Midnight Owl Ch88

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 88: A Bitter Battle

High above, on the [Paper airplane].

“I told you there’s no need for you guys to interfere. I’ll handle it myself.” Chen Guan deliberately slowed down the last few words, emphasizing them.

Kong Lizhe and Gu Nian, who were already preparing to make a move, rolled their eyes upward upon hearing this, while the latter sought confirmation from Wang Duan with a glance.

“First, grab the badge.” Wang Duan looked at Chen Guan. “Once we have it, you can play however you like.”

Chen Guan fell silent for a few seconds, then directly asked Gu Nian, “Can we break their defense?”

Gu Nian knew his colleague had calmed down.

Eating from someone softens the mouth, taking from someone shortens the hand*. For mercenaries, Wang Duanran, a young master, was definitely a very generous boss. As long as it didn’t interfere with serious matters, he usually didn’t care about what you do.

*Proverb referring to if you take advantage of others, you will deliberately give in to them, even if they have shortcomings, thus potentially compromising your independence or ability to speak and act freely.

A generous boss means the employees shouldn’t be too willful, right?

“The effect of [(Defense) Nothing at All] is ‘disappearance’, not ‘hiding’. We don’t have any stationery that can counteract it yet,” Gu Nian analyzed calmly. “But its duration should be almost up.”

“Let’s not wait,” Chen Guan said. “Just deal with the person using the stationery.”

Gu Nian agreed, “That’s possible.”

“Then let’s start.” Kong Lizhe looked down at the tree, now a small green dot below, warming up by rotating his shoulders. “Dachuan is probably itching to kick the tree by now.”

“Whoosh—”

Before the four could act, a huge bucket of water fell from the sky, drenching them from head to toe!

Wang Duan was the most affected. His curly hair was now sticking to his scalp, losing its previously cute fluffiness.

[Owl: Someone has used [(Offense) Wet Temptation] on you~~]

Wang Duan, Chen Guan, Kong Lizhe, Gu Nian: “……”

Since joining the “Owl”, this was the first time they felt that the extremely annoying tone of the alert sounded like the original voice of the user.

Room 1024.

Han Buting’s eyes darkened slightly. “That team is getting serious now.”

“That doesn’t guarantee their absolute victory.” Li Xia looked towards the balloon house. “Those guys are tougher than when they were in the amusement park.”

Han Buting shook his head. “In a real team battle, they’re bound to lose.”

Li Xia tilted his head, pondering, and then understood. “Five against five already requires some luck. Four against five makes it slim.”

“Four against five?” Li Zijin was puzzled. “Chi Yingxue’s team isn’t missing anyone.”

“With Chi Yingxue there, it’s like being one person short,” Li Xia stated indifferently, without any emotional bias. “His combat ability is fine for one-on-one against a weaker team, but in a team battle requiring coordination, it’s iffy.”

“……” Li Zijin finally understood and had no words to reply.

More than iffy, it’s a blessing if he doesn’t sabotage his own team. He still remembers a former teammate’s “slip of the foot” on the Ferris wheel. If the subsequent madness was an uncontrollable virus, then that first act was clearly a “die together” move, utterly despairing.

“This isn’t someone who can fight in a team battle.” Han Buting looked towards the soon-to-be fierce battlefield, suddenly feeling a trace of sympathy for his former opponent. The other four’s combat ability and coordination had grown at an astonishing rate. The fifth member didn’t need to be outstanding, just adequate, but unfortunately, they chose someone who does as they please.

The battlefield outside the window was filled with a repressive quietness, a harbinger of an impending fierce battle, like the thick clouds accumulating before a storm.

This atmosphere suddenly made Li Zijin feel a sense of familiarity and nostalgia.

During league matches in the past, facing tough opponents, the team atmosphere before the battle was the same.

Along with the nostalgia, memories also surged.

They came suddenly, but vividly.

“Our team once had a substitute.” Li Zijin gazed out at the battlefield, but what appeared before his eyes were scenes of battles from game maps. “He never followed the pre-match tactics and would go crazy as soon as the fight started, acting recklessly. Sometimes a one-man show could decide the victory, but more often, he was like an undercover agent, ruining even the best situations beyond recognition…”

“The team didn’t want him anymore. Just when another club wanted to poach, my boss didn’t even raise the price and transfer him for half the fees…”

“And then?” If Han Buting had missed the point of what his teammate was getting at, he should retire as captain. “Did he suddenly reform in the new team?”

“How could he?” Li Zijin laughed, but the amusement faded quickly. “In the new team, he still couldn’t cooperate, became a substitute again, and eventually, retired.”

Han Buting expected a dramatic twist, but it turned out to be such an ordinary ending.

Li Zijin himself wasn’t sure what he was trying to express. He only knew that in one-on-one situations, almost no one could match that person, who had sharp skills that even he envied. But just like that, he faded away.

Would things have been different if he had been in a team that knew how to use him? Li Zijin didn’t know. And there wasn’t time to think about it anymore—the battle outside had begun.

Wang Duan and the others weren’t the only ones hit by [Wet Temptation]. The paper airplane beneath their feet was too. The huge origami got soaked through, immediately wilting and wobbling as it fell!

But the moment they were hit, they guessed the opponent’s intention and immediately deployed [(Defense) Rainbow Clouds]. The paper airplane was quickly replaced by floating clouds, catching the four as they landed safely on them.

Now, they were right above the balloon house, close enough to touch it.

Wang Duan vigorously shook his curly hair, mentally chanting “don’t get angry” to avoid being overwhelmed by “hatred value”.

The moment Chen Guan landed on the clouds, he activated [(Offense) Look Up to See Joy]!

In an instant, a rain of sharp “knives” fell straight down towards the [Balloon House]!

“If you dare, use [Mirage] again.” Chen Guan gazed at the face peeking out of the [Balloon House] below, speaking softly.

Captain Xu only saw the lip movement, not hearing the words.

Because the next second, countless knives pierced the balloon, and with a “bang—” it exploded into pieces!

The four watched the [Balloon House] plummet straight down, feeling slightly relieved, but they wouldn’t trip over the stone of “blind confidence” a second time.

[Owl: Someone has used [(Offense) Poison Gas Bomb] on you~~]

[Owl: Someone has used [(Defense) A Piece of Floral Cloth] on you~~]

The wheel of fortune turned, and the continuous use of stationery finally landed on Xu Wang’s small team.

The [Poison Gas Bomb] smashed through the roof and fell inside. Before the companions could react, a huge floral cloth descended from the sky, enveloping the entire wooden house like a net!

The cabin darkened instantly. Whether it was Xu Wang at the door or the companions inside, none could see each other, communicating only by voice.

“Don’t breathe—” Wu Sheng warned immediately.

Xu Wang covered his mouth and nose and shouted loudly, “Are we there yet—”

Without needing to call names, Qian Ai, using [(Defense) A Pair of Wise Eyes], automatically reported, “We are in position!”

No longer needing to delay, Captain Xu immediately deactivated one of his defense stationeries and shouted, “Xiao Kuang, Plan P!”

Kuang Jinxin: “Understood!”

Just as he was wondering, the rapidly falling wooden house wrapped in floral cloth suddenly sprouted a pair of huge wings on the outside of the cloth, as if the floral-cloth house had turned into an angel. The wings flapped powerfully upwards, and the huge air currents they created gradually slowed down the descent of the house!

The four on the cloud watched this bizarre scene, hesitating between taking action and observing.

Kong Lizhe: “Should we strike?”

Gu Nian: “In a sealed environment, the [Poison Gas Bomb] can send them home within a minute. Acting now might break the already sealed poisonous environment.”

Chen Guan: “They don’t know about the poison gas bomb being released? Even if they don’t die from the fall, they’ll still be poisoned to death.”

Wang Duanran: “Don’t you think these wings are flapping… a bit laboriously?”

The wings were wide, measuring about two meters. They spread out as they fluttered, turning the floral cloth-covered wooden house into a whimsical, winged floral bag.

The only problem was that the flapping of the wings was erratic, barely stabilizing the wooden house. No matter how varied or vigorous the flapping, the house remained stationary, with a tendency to continue descending very slowly.

Kong Lize: “What kind of rubbish armor is this?”

Gu Nian: “Flapping wings… but unable to fly?”

Chen Guan, Kong Lize, Wang Duanran: “……”

While they spoke, another dozen seconds passed.

The four of them silently counted down in their hearts. One minute left, thirty seconds, twenty seconds, fifteen seconds…

“Rip—”

“Rip—”

The sound of tearing fabric came unexpectedly!

The floral cloth covering the wooden house tore in several places, and from each tear, a black and sharp beak, resembling that of a bird, protruded!

“Not good,” Gu Nian realized. “Plan P, PAO. They’re trying to escape.”

Before the three companions could digest this almost divine deduction, several large, snow-white birds emerged from the torn fabric!

On each bird sat a person, and the whole team, riding their mounts, soared straight into the sky in a column formation!

Kong Lize: “Can’t they have some normal stationery? What is this?!”

Gu Nian: “A line of egrets… rising to the heavens?”

Chen Guan: “……”

Wang Duanran: “Gu Nian, your understanding of them makes me anxious…”

Gu Nian didn’t hear his employer’s complaint because he noticed a problem—there were only four egrets in the sky.

Chen Guan, Kong Lize, Wang Duanran realized this a half-second later than him, but almost simultaneously, the same words came to their minds—a feint to the east, attack from the west*!

*(东击西) Idiom where you make an attack in one direction to divert attention from where the real attack is to be made.

No wonder only one person spoke from inside the house, and despite being trapped by poison gas, they dragged it out for half a minute. When the illusion of [Mirage] was dispelled and the [Balloon House] reappeared, one of them had already used invisible stationery and stealthily moved elsewhere!

The tree.

Jiang Dachuan had shifted several branches and, although his buttocks were inevitably numb, was relieved to finally see his teammates getting serious.

[Picking Leaves and Flying Petals] + [A Piece of Floral Cloth] + [Poison Gas Bomb]. A triple strike.

They should have done this from the start, no need for wasted words.

But the opponents weren’t as weak as he thought. Breaking through the floral cloth and riding big white birds into the sky had some impact.

In his view, however, this was just a matter of getting home a minute earlier or later.

Jiang Dachuan didn’t count the number of egrets. With all four teammates serious, he was especially relaxed, entering a mode of “watching the battle without using his brain”.

Yet, his combat instincts were still active.

Moreover, the murderous intent from behind was almost unmasked.

The moment a snake-like arm wrapped around his neck from behind, Jiang Dachuan grabbed the assailant’s wrist and pulled them close for an elbow strike!

Invisible? No matter. He was a hundred percent sure he hit the chest hard!

“Invisible sneak attack?” Jiang Dachuan sneered. “Those are the leftovers from playing.” With that, he released the wrist and pushed hard!

“Thump—”

The invisible person fell into the seawater beneath the tree, and when they reemerged a few seconds later. The invisibility had worn off.

Chi Yingxue swallowed the salty seawater in his mouth and looked up at Jiang Dachuan from the waves with a slowly emerging, strange excitement and anticipation in his eyes.

“Don’t disappoint me,” he said lightly, then quickly sank into the water, making no further sound.

Jiang Dachuan in the tree branch: “……”

What kind of parting threat was that? Shouldn’t it be something like, “Just you wait!”

While he was speechless, a flicker suddenly caught the corner of Jiang Dachuan’s eye—a badge!

Jiang Dachuan looked up sharply, and sure enough, about two meters above his head in the dense branches, the flash of the badge was faint but clear!

The person using the stationery hadn’t been sent home yet, still fleeing on a white bird.

That left only one reason—the stationery had expired.

A sad story indeed.

Jiang Dachuan sympathized with the opponent, who had resisted to the end, swiftly got up, hugged the main trunk of the tree, and climbed nimbly upward!

But just after climbing a bit, his ankle suddenly felt heavy. He held onto the tree trunk, frowned, and looked down. The next second, his heart skipped a beat.

A disheveled auntie with a face as white as a wall and eye sockets as black as holes—no, they were holes because she had no eyes. Her mouth was blood-red, grinning, revealing uneven teeth, eerie and ferocious!

[Owl: Someone used [(Offense) Ghost Grabbing Foot] on you~~]

“Mwah.” The auntie, with a radiant smile, even blew a kiss.

Jiang Dachuan: “……”

Whoever created this stationery, come out! I promise not to format you!!!

“Rustle—”

The sound of leaves rubbing came from above.

Jiang Dachuan cursed inwardly and immediately looked up. As expected, Chi Yingxue had already climbed above him. At that height, he could reach the badge with a stretch!

Jiang Dachuan kicked at the ghost while grabbing Chi Yingxue in full swing!

However, the ghost auntie seemed to have taken a liking to him and wouldn’t let go!

Jiang Dachuan jumped to the side, hooked a branch with one arm, dangled the ghost auntie with one leg, and quickly tapped out a stationery with the other hand—[(Offense) Grafting*]!

*Grafting flowers onto trees (移花接木) It’s an idiom referring to joining ranches or buds of one kind of flower or tree to another. Metaphorically, it means to covert replacement by means of means.

Chi Yingxue’s target wasn’t the badge, but when he climbed up, the badge’s light appeared.

However, the reaction from below was quick, and with a stationery thrown, the branch carrying the badge moved to a higher spot on the trunk!

Clearly, the person below couldn’t reach it and wasn’t about to let him have it cheap.

“Thud—”

A huge, dull thud sounded from above their heads—to be precise, above the tree. The noise was so loud that the tree shook.

Jiang Dachuan and Chi Yingxue looked up together. A colorful cloud carrying four people had hit some transparent barrier about half a meter above the treetop. The three on the cloud had dark faces, and one frowned.

The four egrets, not far from them, lined up by size, with Xu Wang leading. He lifted his arm to kindly advise: “[(Defense) Glass Safe], I advise you not to hit it hard. You might not care about yourselves, but at least spare a thought for the cloud.”

Chen Guan, enduring the pain in his elbow from the recent collision with the glass cover, gritted his teeth at the sight of the four bird-riders. “I was about to let you off since the badge appeared, but it seems you’re eagerly seeking death.”

“Frankly, our chances of winning are indeed not high,” Advisor Wu, always pragmatic, remarked. “But holding out until the pause button’s effect wears off doesn’t seem too difficult.”

Xu Wang leaned in, asking seriously, “Should be almost time, right?”

Wu Sheng nodded vigorously. “Yeah, similar power illusions don’t last long—just a minute or two.”

Chen Guan, Gu Nian, Kong Lize: “……”

Wang Duanran: “Could your cooperation be any more exaggerated…”

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Pause Button] on you~~]

The familiar notification echoed once more in the ears of Xu Wang’s small team.

The four riders on the egrets were startled.

Kong Lize also lifted his arm in emulation of Xu Wang. “Sorry, the effect is indeed about to expire, so let me add one more thing.”

“T—” Xu Wang suddenly shouted.

The four on the cloud instinctively braced themselves!

All four egrets flapped their wings and swiftly retreated!

Wang, Chen, Kong, Gu: “…”

Such obvious actions, why use codenames? Why not just shout “retreat” outright!

Retreating to a safe distance, Xu Wang turned serious and called out loudly to the opposite side. “The situation now is that you can’t get into the glass safe, nor can you let us in, so it’s all down to the result in the tree, one-on-one, whoever gets the badge…”

Before he could finish, a huge diamond suddenly appeared mid-air, dazzling in the sunlight!

Xu Wang’s declaration was abruptly cut off.

The diamond “clanged” against the transparent glass cover, then began to cut downwards with its sharpest point.

On the previously invisible [Glass Safe], a clear scratch mark appeared—not a straight line but a circular arc!

In the blink of an eye, a circular piece of glass was cut out and “plopped” into the sea!

“Who told you we couldn’t get in? Who’s going one-on-one or getting the badge…” Chen Guan’s irritation grew as he spoke, his tone rising. “Hey, I’m curious, how weak were the opponents you’ve faced before that gave you such miraculous confidence?”

1024: “……”

1639: “……”

“Help?” Feng Rang asked Wei Menghan.

Although there was no absolute reason to help, weighing between calling them “weak” and the “potential financial clients” they had once shared drinks with, Feng Gu’s priorities were clear.

“They’re wearing stationery,” Zhu Mo answered, casually throwing a goose feather pen from the table, which halfway through its flight, seemed to hit something and fell limply.

Feng Rang and Zou Jun were surprised; they didn’t expect the badge-seeking team to pull such a trick.

“The fight began with them wearing it,” Wei Menghan said. “They cut off the possibility of being ambushed from the start.”

Feng Rang and Zou Jun fell silent.

From the beginning, it had been a fair one-on-one, one team against another.

Outside the window, by the tree, the cloud had calmly entered the broken hole in the [Glass Safe].

The four distant egrets remained motionless.

But the moment the cloud floated in, it suddenly returned the way it came, leaving the glass cover and continuing to ascend rapidly!

[Owl: Someone used [(Offense) Rising From the Ground*] on you~~]

*(拔地而起) Idiom referring to something rising abruptly towering above the ground.

Wang Duanran, Kong Lize, Gu Nian: “……”

Chen Guan: “Damn, I’m almost forgetting the original meanings of these idioms…”

“Dachuan might not be able to hold him off.” Gu Nian observed while ascending rapidly, glancing down. “That Most Beautiful is very formidable.”

In the tree, their teammate was entangled with the Most Beautiful among the branches. The Most Beautiful was tightly gripping Jiang Dachuan’s arm, giving him no chance to use his stationery. Similarly, Jiang Dachuan was counterattacking; both men seemed evenly matched for the moment!

But a closer look revealed Jiang Dachuan’s eyes betraying a struggle, while the Most Beautiful’s eyes shone even brighter than before, radiating brilliance!

The cloud continued to rise!

Wang Duanran directly raised his arm, targeting the person in the tree, and activated a piece an offense stationery!

In the tree, Chi Yingxue had gained the upper hand, pressing Jiang Dachuan against the trunk, hand on his throat, almost ready to send him home. Suddenly, Chi Yingxue felt a needle-like pain in his heart!

Chi Yingxue could endure physical pain, but this kind of sharp mental agony momentarily distracted him!

Jiang Dachuan seized this opportunity, quickly disengaging and leaping to a nearby branch!

Chi Yingxue wanted to pursue, but his heart ached again—a pain he had never experienced before—bearable physically but unbearable mentally!

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Heart Piercing Pain*] on you~~]

*A pain that feels as if needles were pricking one’s heart.

Chi Yingxue held onto the trunk with one hand, his chest with the other, gently gasping for breath, sweat appearing on his forehead for the first time.

Jiang Dachuan knew his teammates must be helping, but without stopping to finish off his opponent, he climbed upwards, prioritizing the badge!

But his ankle was grabbed again!

Jiang Dachuan was close to madness. Did the ghost have to be so persistent?

Glaring down, the curse on Jiang Dachuan’s lips halted.

The one holding him was Chi Yingxue, his face and lips deathly pale, both hands tightly gripping his foot.

“What the fuck…” Jiang Dachuan didn’t know what else to say.

His own teammates weren’t known for holding back; this stationery was undoubtedly heart-wrenching.

To endure such pain and still hold onto him—how much salary could make someone so dedicated?!


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch81

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 81

An actor can make or break a show.

The crew had been halted for two days.

The producer and director were extremely anxious, while the rest of the staff and actors could only wait in confusion.

“So there’s no way we can wrap up by the end of July,” Ran Lin said to his agent on the phone, his voice carrying the same worry as the director’s. “Even if we find a replacement actress in these two days, we’ll probably have to shoot until mid-August.”

“It would be best to finish by mid-August,” Wang Xi replied. “Any later would be really difficult.”

Ran Lin was surprised. He was set to start filming <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> on August 8th, and per his contract, even a day’s delay would mean paying a fine. He was prepared for a severe reprimand, but all he got was this response?

As if reading his mind, Wang Xi continued, “I’ve already negotiated with the <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> crew. They’ve agreed to postpone your scenes, but they can only wait for you until August 18th. You must join them by then.”

“Xi Jie, you really are…” Ran Lin couldn’t find the right words to describe her. Wang Xi’s thoughtfulness and efficiency exceeded all praises he could think of.

Wang Xi waited for a description that never came, amused yet focused on the matter at hand. “Any leads on the actress?”

Ran Lin sighed. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Director He has high standards for quality. He won’t settle for less,” Wang Xi said, her voice filled with concern. “But good actors are always busy. It’s rare to find someone who can commit immediately.”

Ran Lin explained, “The last actress was recommended by an acquaintance, so the director hesitated so long before terminating the contract. Now we’re wary of recommendations. After being burned once, we insist the new actress must come to the set for a trial shoot before signing any contract.”

“Having been through such a disappointment, it’s understandable the crew is being cautious,” Wang Xi replied. “But this makes it even harder to find a suitable actress. They come to help out and have to audition first.”

“……” The more his agent spoke, the bleaker Ran Lin felt about the future.

“Don’t worry,” Wang Xi reassured, sensing her artist’s despair. “In the worst case, the crew can disband temporarily. In a few months, once they find a suitable actress and everyone’s schedules align, they can reassemble and continue shooting.”

Ran Lin was struck by a sense of déjà vu at her description. Then it dawned on him. “Didn’t Director He’s last project end up doing something similar?”

Wang Xi had mentioned it offhandedly; such occurrences, while not common in the entertainment industry, do happen. But reminded by Ran Lin, she realized that indeed, it seemed to be the same director…

A long, quiet moment passed.

Finally, Wang Xi sighed. “Pursuing art always requires some sacrifice.”

Ran Lin was left speechless, wishing he could just cry in frustration.

After hanging up with his agent, Ran Lin nervously checked the new message in the crew’s group chat, fearing the worst news like “the crew disbanding temporarily”.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case—

[Dear crew members, we urgently need a female actress around 25 years old (not a strict requirement, apparent suitability is enough). Please help spread the word. Suitable candidates can immediately come for a screen test, and the payment will be generous.]

The message was from the assistant director, but naturally, it was at the director’s behest. Having been burned by a recommendation before, the director was probably at his wit’s end to issue such a notice. Everyone understood they were seeking a replacement for Jiang Xiaoxiao, so no further details were revealed in the notice.

Without hesitation, Ran Lin shared the notice in his WeChat moments, only to realize after posting that his feed was filled with the same call for actors, all copied and pasted by his fellow crew members.

After a moment’s thought, Ran Lin also reached out privately to two female artists he had good relations with. The private messages were less formal, starting with a casual “Hello, anyone there?” emoticon, followed by the main text—

[I’m currently filming Director He Guan’s <Dyeing Fire>, a realism-themed, suspenseful, and stark movie. The crew urgently needs a female actress for the only female role (a positive character) in the movie, which is roughly the third lead. Due to the tight schedule, we need someone who can join immediately. As for the payment, although the director says it’s generous, it might be negligible compared to your usual fees 😅. It’s a rescue mission like putting out a fire. If you’re interested or know someone suitable, please contact me or help spread the word🌹.]

Xi Ruohan was the first to reply.

Ran Lin messaged at 4 p.m., and she responded within an hour—[I can’t help with the role, as I’m starting a TV series next week, but I’ve shared your post in my moments 🤏.]

Ran Lin smiled and thanked her, only to be teased for being too formal with friends.

Jiang Yi replied after Xi Ruohan, around 6 p.m.—[How long is the shooting period?]

Having been turned down by Xi Ruohan, Ran Lin had almost given up hope. Jiang Yi, who had stopped doing TV series and was picky about film roles, especially after her recent high-budget film <Chronicles of Winter>, had her market value significantly increased. Although she had expressed interest in modern dramas, she had plenty of lead roles to choose from; there was no need to turn back for a supporting role.

Because he didn’t expect much, Ran Lin was pleasantly surprised by her reply and responded quickly—[About two months.]

After asking, he realized she might not be considering the role herself; she might just want clearer information to help spread the word.

People are like that; the closer to a surprise, the more they fear disappointment.

Fortunately, Jiang Yi didn’t leave him hanging too long—[I’d like to try for the role, but my schedule is only free until July 25th, and I can’t commit after that.]

If she started filming immediately, it would mean she had less than fifty days available.

Ran Lin pursed his lips in thought before typing—[I’m not sure if 48 days is enough for the shooting. I need to ask the director. But are you sure you’ll take the role if the schedule works? Maybe you should discuss it with your agent first?]

Jiang Yi—[This is Director He! If my agent knew my first modern film is with Director He, she’d carry me around the world in circles 😭.]

Ran Lin—[But it’s a third lead, a supporting role.]

Jiang Yi—[Isn’t there only one female role in this film?]

Ran Lin—[Yes, a screen full of rough men, you’ll definitely stand out beautifully.]

Jiang Yi—[😏 Hurry up and ask the director for me, if 48 days is enough.]

Ran Lin—[48 days]

Jiang Yi—[If the director thinks I’m suitable, I can join the crew the day after tomorrow.]

Ran Lin—[Wonder Woman.jpg]

Exiting WeChat, Ran Lin immediately called Director He.

It seemed Director He was outside, as the call was filled with noisy street sounds. “Hello?”

“Director He, it’s Ran Lin.”

“Yes, what’s up?”

“I have a friend who wants to try out for Jiang Xiaoxiao, but she only has 48 days available. Is that enough time?”

“What films has your friend been in? Do I know any of them? Or what’s her appearance and temperament like, and how about her acting skills? Please give me an objective assessment. I can’t afford another Qi Luoluo situation; the producer would go mad.”

Director He’s frustration was palpable through the phone.

The production crew was halted, leaving the producer the most anxious as money drains away daily. The cause of this situation was an actor introduced by the director’s acquaintance, making the producer’s distress evident.

“She’s Jiang Yi, the lead actress I just finished <Chronicles of Winter> with. You should remember her; her last film <Broken Bridge> was a big hit.”

“I know Jiang Yi…” Director He pondered with hesitation.

Worried the director might misunderstand, Ran Lin quickly spoke for his friend. “Director He, rest assured, she’s not the diva the internet claims. We had a smooth collaboration, and her acting intuition is great…”

“It’s not her attitude I’m worried about.” Director He found a quieter corner as the background noise lessened. “Her reputation in the industry is quite good. I’d welcome her, but you know the budget constraints. The pay we can offer is just a fraction of her usual fee, and the role is a very minor one. Are you sure she’ll come?”

“The moment she heard it was your film, she didn’t even ask about the pay. If you think we can wrap up in 48 days, she’ll join the day after tomorrow,” Ran Lin said with a suppressed laugh. “Director, you underestimate your own charm.”

There was a long silence on the other end before a deep sigh. “Ran Lin, if Jiang Yi really comes, that would solve a huge problem for me.”

“If that’s the case, it’s because you gave me the chance to play Di Jiangtao,” Ran Lin sincerely replied.

“Then we should both thank Gu Jie,” Director He admitted. “Without his strong recommendation, we might not have had this opportunity.”

Ran Lin paused, then smiled knowingly. He always felt that Gu Jie had put in a good word for him to land a role in <Dyeing Fire>, yet Gu Jie merely claimed to have “connected” them, suggesting that the director, in his urgency to find actors, would consider anyone and the final decision lay with him, not related to Gu Jie at all.

The “strong recommendation” mentioned by Director He was never in Gu Jie’s narrative.

Yet, Ran Lin had always harbored doubts, and today the director confirmed them.

But now wasn’t the time for celebrating friendship. Ran Lin revisited the most pressing concern. “Director He, will 48 days be enough?”

Without hesitation, Director He replied, “If her acting is no issue, I can make it work in 38 days!”

Ran Lin: “……”

Director He: “Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration.”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but chuckle. Director He was always so straightforward. “Okay, then I’ll go talk to Jiang Yi right away.”

“Right, I await your confirmation,” Director He said seriously.

Upon hearing that 48 days would suffice, Jiang Yi immediately contacted her agent. By just after 7:00 p.m., she had replied, asking Ran Lin to send her the address; she would be there the day after tomorrow.

Ran Lin wouldn’t let the “rescue heroine” find her own way; he quickly relayed the good news to the director and soon had the production life coordinator arrange a pickup vehicle.

Everything was settled by 8:00 p.m.

Looking at the date on his phone, Ran Lin mused that June 6th, a date with double sixes, was indeed auspicious*.

*Clarity: In Chinese culture, the number 6 [liu] () is considered auspicious because its pronunciation is similar to the word to flow [liu] (), which implies that everything will proceed smoothly.

Just as he was about to share the good news with Gu Jie, who seemed more worried than the director these days, the crew’s group chat suddenly buzzed with a new post—a link to a Weibo post: [Insider exposes Gu Jie bullying a new female actress in the crew… [from the Weibo of Entertainment Detective]]

Soon the group chat was flooded with exclamations and confusion. Ran Lin hurriedly clicked in to find that the post included five pictures: the first a screenshot of a notice in the <Dyeing Fire> WeChat group about needing a new actress for the role of Jiang Xiaoxiao, indicating a day’s halt in production. All potential identifiers were obscured, leaving only the group name and notice content; the second was a screenshot of Qi Luoluo’s Weibo, the third and fourth were photos of Gu Jie and Qi Luoluo, and the fifth a blurry photo of the crew at work, apparently taken surreptitiously.

In essence, aside from the notice confirming the replacement of the actress playing Jiang Xiaoxiao and Qi Luoluo’s “seemingly sentimental Weibo post”, there was no substantial evidence linking to the content of the post.

However, the sensationalism of the marketing account’s Weibo post painted a dramatic picture. The full article read like an in-depth report, alleging that Gu Jie had made life difficult for a female newcomer in the crew, causing her to be fired after only ten days on set to appease the leading actor. With no background to defend her, the actress had no choice but to swallow the injustice. Yet, the day the production announced a halt, she also posted a sad message on Weibo, seemingly meaningful when paired with the incident.

The sensational Weibo post by the marketing account referred to the actress as a “newcomer female actress” throughout, but the accompanying pictures already hinted at her identity to the netizens.

Ran Lin first visited Qi Luoluo’s Weibo, whose ID was “Actress Qi Luoluo”. The most popular post on her page was from the evening of June 4th, the night the director spoke to her, posted at 11:30 p.m.—[A dream that ends. Can’t change the world, only learning to be strong.]

There were no pictures or emojis, just that sentence.

However, as the marketing account suggested, it was profoundly meaningful.

Opening the post, most comments were from sightseeing netizens and Gu Jie’s fans.

The general attitude of the sightseeing netizens ranged from curious to sympathetic—

[What could make a male star bully a newcomer female actress? Just curious, want to ask. 🤔]

[Signed a contract, joined the crew, started shooting, and then got fired. I feel sorry for you, but instead of posting these vague posts, why not speak out all your grievances?]

[This male actor bullying a female actress scenario is quite fresh. What exactly happened?]

[I feel there will be a plot twist. Not taking sides yet, just watching.]

[I’m a bit worried you’ll be blacklisted, but still hope you can speak up.]

Meanwhile, Gu Jie’s fans had a startlingly unified response, all saying—[If you slander, I’ll unfollow. Waiting!]

As Ran Lin scrolled down, the sheer number of similar comments was overwhelming.

When he finally checked Gu Jie’s Weibo homepage, he understood the power of role models.

Just half an hour before, despite the marketing account stirring up momentum, and even before the lighting assistant posted the link in the WeChat group, Gu Jie had already responded with a post on Weibo—

[Heard I bullied a female actress? Seeking evidence; recordings, photos, videos, chat histories are all acceptable. Provide evidence, and I’ll apologize! @Entertainment Detective @Entertainment Seven Princesses @Insider News @Domestic Sun Newspaper @Double Zero Dog Gossip Studio @Entertainment Super Informer @Melon Eating Association @Divine Entertainment Reporter]

Although most celebrity Weibos are half managed by their teams, especially during PR crises when the team takes over entirely, Ran Lin felt that the tone of the post and the determination to tag all the marketing accounts indicated it was Gu Jie himself.

No longer looking at the screen, Ran Lin, still in his slippers and holding his room card, went to knock on Gu Jie’s door.

“Coming—” A voice from inside responded.

Soon after, the door opened to reveal Gu Jie in gray sweatpants and a black tank top, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“Still working out… Achoo!” Ran Lin began, but before he could finish his sentence, he sneezed due to the spicy scent in the air.

“No, just eating instant noodles,” Gu Jie replied.

Ran Lin, noticing the half-eaten spicy noodles and the prominently labeled “Extra Spicy” packet, understood where all the sweat came from.

“Carry on, don’t mind me.” Ran Lin gestured towards the noodles, allowing Gu Jie to continue eating.

Gu Jie seemed about to resume eating but then looked up, sensing something amiss, and asked Ran Lin, “Did you come just to watch me eat noodles?”

“I came to comfort you.” Ran Lin rolled his eyes. “But seeing you’re still in the mood for noodles, you probably aren’t too affected.”

“How can I not be affected?” Gu Jie replied, frustrated and furrowing his brows. “I’ve done a hundred push-ups and eaten two packs of noodles. Sure, I’ve sweated it out, but here…” He tapped his chest. “It still feels tight.”

“You clearly haven’t been wronged much,” Ran Lin remarked as he settled into a single sofa chair by a small coffee table. “I was on the hot search a few days ago—you saw it. That was a real mess. Qi Luoluo’s tactics are nothing compared to Han Ze.”

“But she accused me of bullying women,” Gu Jie protested, both angry and aggrieved. “Doesn’t she know why she was fired? Instead of focusing on the right things, she spends her days plotting mischief. And when leaving, she throws dirt on others; what was she thinking!”

From his debut to now, Gu Jie had always maintained a low-profile and earnest approach, not overly cultivating a public persona or fan base, and never seriously involved in any public disputes. Suddenly being thrust into the fray, he felt out of place and uncomfortable; he would rather have a straightforward fight than deal with this.

“I saw your Weibo post,” Ran Lin offered some comfort. “It’s good. If you’re innocent, let those who talk bring out the evidence.”

Gu Jie nodded. “Qiang Ge wanted to act on it, but I stopped him. These baseless rumors aren’t worth our attention.”

Ran Lin paused. “Qiang…Ge?”

“My agent,” Gu Jie replied, finally picking up his fork to continue with the noodles.

Ran Lin had only met Gu Jie’s agent once during “Drifting Stories”, briefly and without much interaction or even knowing his name. Now hearing Gu Jie refer to him as “Qiang Ge” and recalling the robust middle-aged man, he seemed even more formidable.

As Gu Jie ate, Ran Lin shared Gu Jie’s Weibo post, simply forwarding it without additional comments but clearly taking a stand.

Perhaps due to his recent involvement in controversies, as soon as he reposted it, his comments flooded with dozens of concerned messages from fans—

[Male God, be careful. You just got out of a scandal, don’t attract more trouble…]

[Can’t we just stay low and peaceful? 🤲]

[I know you and Gu Jie are close, but maybe don’t pick sides in this kind of situation…]

[It seems to be a tough period; why do all my idol’s recent films have issues?]

Seeing his fans so worried softened Ran Lin’s expression.

He didn’t linger on the comments but returned to WeChat, where the work group had quieted down. Although everyone had their thoughts on the matter, aside from the initial shock, there was no further discussion.

“Oh right.” Ran Lin remembered as he saw Gu Jie finish his noodles. “We’ve found a replacement actress, Jiang Yi.”

Gu Jie, disposing of the noodle bowl, looked surprised. “The one you acted with in <Chronicles of Winter>?”

Ran Lin nodded. “She’ll join the day after tomorrow.”

Gu Jie asked, “Is the salary settled?”

Ran Lin replied, “She said the pay doesn’t matter, she just wants to act in a modern drama.”

Gu Jie remarked, “You must have quite the influence then…”

Ran Lin: “People came here specifically for Director He.”

They chatted casually until after ten. When both felt sleepy, they decided to rest.

Gu Jie’s gloom mainly stemmed from being slandered for no reason, but he wasn’t overly worried about the negative impact it might cause. Although there were marketing accounts stirring the pot, Qi Luoluo wasn’t Han Ze, who could have made the incident dominate the trending searches. At the height of the public’s attention in the evening, it was only ninth or tenth on the trending list. By the time Ran Lin checked Weibo before going to bed, it had fallen to the thirties. Given Gu Jie’s straightforward attitude and Qi Luoluo not speaking out, Ran Lin could almost foresee that by the next morning, the issue would have blown over.

After all, there are too many celebrities making statements every day, whether it’s real fights or fake hype, it’s only exciting when they are equally matched. For a minor figure like Qi Luoluo, unless a major scandal breaks out, it’s hard to sustain attention.

The next day, Ran Lin woke up naturally. When he opened his eyes, the sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft brightness in the room.

Jiang Yi wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, so it was destined to be another day without work.

Bored, Ran Lin called Gu Jie to see if he wanted to go downtown for a stroll. Gu Jie, having nothing better to do, readily agreed.

So the two set out lightly dressed, wearing hats and sunglasses.

Wuhan is a city with a distinct flavor, carrying a sense of retro desolation with the pace of modern rapid change. Sitting in the car, watching the high-rise buildings and the mottled storefronts on both sides of the street, they felt a sense of traveling through the past and future.

Despite having spent months in Wuhan, they had never really explored it, so they thoroughly enjoyed their day out. If it weren’t for a call from Gu Jie’s agent, they might have even headed to the food street that evening.

As the call came in, the sky was darkening, and the streetlights were just coming on.

Standing by the bustling street, Ran Lin listened to his friend on the phone, aimlessly watching the passing vehicles. When he looked back, his friend’s face was even darker than the night.

Ran Lin didn’t hear what Gu Jie said, but he had a vague sense of foreboding. “What’s wrong?”

Gu Jie shook his head and said, “Let’s go back to the hotel and talk.”

Since they were just wandering, they hadn’t used the crew’s car and had been taking taxis. Now, conveniently by the roadside, they hailed a cab.

Curiosity held in check, Ran Lin thought since Gu Jie said to go back to the hotel, they’d wait and ask there. But on the way, Director He called Gu Jie, and as soon as they arrived at the hotel, Gu Jie rushed to Director He’s room.

Ran Lin’s unease grew stronger.

Back in his room, he first checked the work group on WeChat, but the last message was still from yesterday’s “shock”. The group had always been lively since its creation, with members joking around frequently, but the silence from yesterday to today was unsettling.

Exiting WeChat and pondering for a moment, Ran Lin was about to open Weibo when his phone rang. It was Wang Xi.

“Xi Jie?” Ran Lin knew his agent wouldn’t call without reason, and it was likely something urgent.

“What are you doing?” Instead of asking about the situation, the agent started with small talk.

“Just got back from outside…” The more circuitous the agent was, the more anxious Ran Lin became. “The crew stopped working, so I went out for a stroll.”

Wang Xi: “Alone?”

Ran Lin: “With Gu Jie.”

Wang Xi: “…”

Ran Lin: “Xi Jie, just tell me what’s going on. If it’s another problem, just say it. I’m used to it and can handle it.”

Wang Xi laughed briefly before getting to the point. “It’s not you, it’s Gu Jie. Who found that actress anyway, and why is she causing so much drama?”

The calls from Gu Jie’s agent, Director He, and his own agent connected the dots for Ran Lin. “Did Qi Luoluo respond?”

Wang Xi sighed: “Yes, and she responded with a bombshell.”

“What do you mean?” Ran Lin didn’t understand. “Isn’t it just about Gu Jie harassing her?”

Wang Xi explained, “That’s the apparent outcome. But why would Gu Jie bully her? The actress claims it was because Gu Jie harassed her, and she rejected him righteously, leading Gu Jie to retaliate during filming, which ultimately got her kicked out of the crew.”

Ran Lin had heard of fabricating stories, but this was far-fetched.

Furthermore, those who slander others seem to have something in common. Han Ze stole his drama <Chronicles of Winter>, then claimed Wang Xi was biased. Now Qi Luoluo was accused of harassing Gu Jie, but she was saying it’s the other way around. It seemed popular to accuse the accuser.

Ran Lin suppressed his rising emotions and asked his agent, “Do you believe Gu Jie harassed the actress?”

Wang Xi rolled her eyes, saying dismissively, “With his personality, it’s more like he’d be the one harassed.”

Ran Lin: “……”

His agent wasn’t just astute, but almost prophetic.

“But this kind of thing is troublesome.” Wang Xi’s voice grew serious. “Gu Jie can’t provide evidence of ‘I didn’t harass’ because such evidence doesn’t exist. Qi Luoluo might also lack evidence or might use fabricated chats or something as spurious proof. But either way, the public tends to believe the woman in these situations. Because it’s hard to clarify, and Qi Luoluo did get fired from the crew, any reason given now will seem like covering up for Gu Jie. Even if Gu Jie takes legal action or other measures to cool down the situation, his image will be severely damaged.”

Ran Lin was trembling with anger, more upset than when he was slandered. “So there’s no way to stop Qi Luoluo from spreading rumors?”

“There is,” Wang Xi said. “Start with Qi Luoluo, work behind the scenes to get her to clarify voluntarily, but it’s almost impossible.”

Ran Lin’s mood plummeted with his agent’s analysis. Getting Qi Luoluo to apologize, essentially admitting her wrongdoing, seemed less likely than hacking her account and making the apology seem to come from her.

Wang Xi understood Ran Lin’s feelings and knew that the suggestion she made was virtually pointless, falling silent as well.

After a while, Ran Lin realized he hadn’t yet informed his agent of the truth and immediately said, “Actually, it’s not Gu Jie who harassed her, but she harassed Gu Jie. The shooting schedule was severely delayed because of her, and the director had no choice but to terminate her contract, having already been more than fair to her.”

“Some people don’t think about what they’ve gained but only what they’ve lost,” Wang Xi said. “And by stirring up this drama, she’s made a name for herself too. It’s killing two birds with one stone, not a bad deal.”

Ran Lin asked, “Isn’t she afraid of offending Director He?”

“Even if she hadn’t done this, it’s unlikely she would ever deal with a director of Director He’s caliber in her lifetime. Besides, the entertainment industry is vast; Director He can’t cover the sky with one hand. There will always be crews willing to hire her. Put simply, an actor like her fears nothing but obscurity, so she’ll grasp at any opportunity that might make her famous. And…” Wang Xi paused for two seconds before continuing, “She definitely has a team behind her.”

Ran Lin frowned. “So this isn’t revenge but carefully planned hype?”

“There’s an element of revenge,” Wang Xi said, “But the way she posted that pitiful Weibo the day she was fired, let the marketing accounts lead with ‘bullying female actress’ yesterday, and waited until today to formally accuse harassment shows a too methodical approach. The steps are too clear.”

Ran Lin’s mind was in turmoil. He had only heard his agent’s account and hadn’t actually gone to Weibo to see the extent of the situation. But just from what Wang Xi described, he already felt helpless.

This was different from Han Ze slandering him over a role; they could counter with audition footage. But how do you counter an accusation of harassment from Qi Luoluo?

Ran Lin shook off his troubling thoughts, putting aside the question of “how to help Gu Jie” to think about something else. “Xi Jie, you didn’t call just to analyze the impact and strategy for this incident, did you?”

Of course not.

Although frustrated for Gu Jie, who has his own team to handle things, the first thing that came to Wang Xi’s mind when she saw the trending topic was the post Ran Lin shared yesterday. There were already mocking comments under that post, saying how quickly taking sides could backfire. But since the issue hadn’t escalated much yesterday, she didn’t say anything, knowing well the relationship between Ran Lin and Gu Jie.

But today was different. “The victim herself claiming harassment” and “marketing accounts ambiguously saying the actress was bullied” are two entirely different things. She feared Ran Lin, in a moment of passion, might support Gu Jie and attract unnecessary criticism.

However, as the conversation progressed, Ran Lin was eager to find a way to help Gu Jie throughout. Wang Xi could tell, so the typical advice of “don’t post anything and stay prudent” felt somewhat awkward to say.

On Weibo, everyone was watching, with no one daring to openly support Gu Jie yet. Maybe there were private messages or calls offering comfort, but publicly, no one wanted to get involved in the controversy.

But actually, a hundred private words of comfort don’t equate to one public post of support, especially at a time when public opinion is most fervent. Because the real battlefield is out in the open, anyone who steps forward is effectively shielding the involved party from the storm. Suddenly having someone stand by your side and put an arm around your shoulder feels entirely different from receiving a secret message of support.

“It’s okay. I just called to see how you were feeling.” Wang Xi finally didn’t mention her concerns.

Ran Lin might take a stand, or he might not, but as his agent and friend, she decided neither to encourage nor to stop him.

She had been warmed by Ran Lin’s popularity before; she knew how important it is to receive support when in need. If possible, she wanted to be the one guarding that warmth, not making her artist as calculating and detached as herself.

After hanging up with his agent, Ran Lin still felt something was off.

But without time to dwell on it, he quickly opened Weibo, where Gu Jie and Qi Luoluo had both topped the trending list.

Ran Lin went straight to Qi Luoluo’s Weibo to see her long-awaited response: a nearly two-thousand-word post titled “I Am Just a Minor Actress”.

It depicted her in the weakest light, detailing how happy she was to receive the invitation to the crew, how hard she worked after joining, and how she was harassed by Gu Jie, subtly refused him, and then was sabotaged, bullied, and eventually, the crew, having no other choice to protect the male lead, had to let her go—a tale more tragic than Qin Xianglian*.

*A character from Bao Zheng’s Trials of a Hundred Legal Cases, she was married to Chen Shimei, who’s a heartless and unfaithful man. Often portrayed in Peking opera, her tragic tale involves suffering from injustice. She is often portrayed as a symbol of enduring virtue and resilience, despite the extreme hardship she faces.

Most incriminating was the hotel surveillance footage she posted. The video was sped up, with clear dates and times, showing Gu Jie entering her room and leaving about twenty minutes later. The camera angle only showed half the corridor leading to Qi Luoluo’s room, not including Ran Lin’s side, and ended as Gu Jie closed the door, so any aftermath was omitted.

The entire video lacked context, making it seem like Gu Jie went to Qi Luoluo’s room on his own, stayed for twenty minutes, and then left.

Ran Lin knew what Gu Jie had done; if he remembered correctly, his friend said he went in to rehearse lines, and then Qi Luoluo started crying and throwing herself at him.

But the public didn’t know what really happened inside, and the surveillance footage, combined with Qi Luoluo’s lengthy post, seemed to confirm the harassment accusation.

Under Qi Luoluo’s post, there were no visible comments from Gu Jie’s fans or the usual onlookers; it was filled with sympathizers and justice warriors.

As Wang Xi said, Qi Luoluo’s post seemed professionally done, criticizing Gu Jie while subtly placing the crew and the director in a “misinformed” and “reluctantly accommodating the male lead” light, offending no one but Gu Jie.

It was Director He who decided to terminate her contract after discussing with Gu Jie, and Qi Luoluo must have anticipated that Gu Jie would mention her behavior to the director. Yet, she restrained herself to only target Gu Jie, not implicating Director He at all. Minor actors might be sensitive, but major directors are untouchable, at least openly. The careful balancing of stakes and precision in her accusations made Ran Lin skeptical that it was all Qi Luoluo’s doing.

Disturbed by Qi Luoluo’s post, Ran Lin turned to Gu Jie’s page, only to find that a few minutes ago, Gu Jie had updated his Weibo—

[I don’t look for trouble, but I am not afraid of it.]

A seemingly fragile statement that appeared as if it could be blown away with a gust of wind.

Without opening it, Ran Lin could imagine the mockery below because, without evidence or rebuttal, it was just an empty slogan.

Yet, Ran Lin felt as if he could hear his friend’s resolute and firm voice beside him—Gu Jie had pinned that post.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch80

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 80

The premiere press conference of <Chronicles of Winter> barely made any splash online because from the night of the press conference until June 3rd, when the drama officially aired simultaneously on two satellite TV channels, the internet was flooded with the names of Han Ze, Cui Yanyan, and Xiao Tianyu.

Xiao Tianyu had been filming in the far northwest for the past year and had long been out of sight. It was said that the filming conditions there were very harsh, with daily wind and sand; it was also said that Xiao Tianyu was in a bad mood after learning about the incident, speaking little to those around him except for acting; and it was rumored that Xiao Tianyu sent a message privately the next day of the incident, unilaterally breaking up with Cui Yanyan. In short, countless rumors flew about, but Xiao Tianyu, as the cuckolded party, remained silent.

He probably hadn’t even logged onto Weibo because netizens could still find many of his low-key, cryptic, but love-filled posts, occasionally even referring to a “wife”, clearly headed toward marriage. Now, looking back, it made people feel even more sympathy.

The more they sympathized with Xiao Tianyu, naturally, the more they resented Cui Yanyan for cheating despite having a boyfriend and the indiscreet Han Ze.

More importantly, the video’s imagery was too impactful. Probably thinking they were in a blind spot of the underground parking lot’s surveillance, the two didn’t avoid much, with kissing and touching, entangling for several minutes before finally entering the elevator together.

However, the angle chosen by the paparazzo was very professional. Although the distance was somewhat far, all the actions of the two were clearly captured. The video even added subtitles explaining the filming date as two days ago and the location as Han Ze’s underground parking lot.

The two returning together to the man’s home late at night left little to the imagination, and the video didn’t need to spell it out, as dedicated paparazzi camped out all night and finally captured Cui Yanyan leaving Han Ze’s place in the early morning.

The evidence was complete, leaving no room for the parties involved to wriggle out of it.

Both Cui Yanyan’s and Han Ze’s social media became a massive scene of fans jumping ship.

The reason for Cui Yanyan’s fan loss was clear—while love is free, cheating is intolerable. Even without escalating it to a moral critique, just days ago, she was celebrating her boyfriend’s birthday on Weibo, and then she was caught kissing someone else, a stark contrast that made such a fickle idol hard to support.

The reasons for Han Ze’s fan loss were more diverse—firstly, if it was true love, it might be excusable to fight for love if both are single, but engaging in a heated affair knowing the other party hasn’t broken up with their boyfriend should be morally condemned; secondly, if it wasn’t true love but just a fling, it was even more shameful, leaving no room for redemption; thirdly, the sordid scene in the underground parking lot completely destroyed the warm man persona he had built up, and nothing hurts more than realizing you’ve been supporting a fake idol.

The waves of ridicule, fan abandonment, and mockery continued unabated, and like Xiao Tianyu, both Han Ze and Cui Yanyan remained silent.

It’s understandable that Han Ze wouldn’t respond, as his primary concern was his crumbling public image. Regardless of whether his relationship with Cui Yanyan was true love or whether Cui Yanyan had broken up with Xiao Tianyu, nothing could whitewash him now. But Cui Yanyan’s silence was intriguing.

Typically, she should have immediately issued a statement clarifying that she had already broken up with Xiao Tianyu. If they hadn’t coordinated privately and she was worried about being contradicted by Xiao Tianyu, then her management should have quietly smeared Xiao Tianyu, creating a narrative that he wasn’t such a good man either, diverting attention and blurring the original nature of the incident.

But Cui Yanyan made no move.

Perhaps she still had feelings for Xiao Tianyu and didn’t want to drag him down at this point, or maybe Xiao Tianyu had some leverage over her, and making a fuss would only make things worse.

In any case, the armchair analysts had a field day, while fellow artists of Han Ze and Cui Yanyan remained conspicuously silent on the matter—no one wanted to get burned at this point.

Only Han Ze’s official fan club posted on Weibo—[Please focus more on his works and keep away from his private life.]

But it was immediately countered with—[When you were promoting your daily life to build your persona and gather fans, why didn’t you say to keep away from private lives? Either you should have never sold your persona and always relied on your works to speak for you—there are many such talented artists in the entertainment industry. But you took shortcuts to gain fans, and when problems arise, you blame the fans for focusing too much on their personal lives and not on the works. That’s very double standard.]

Due to the heavy mockery, the fan club later deleted the post, replacing it with a still of Han Ze from <Chronicles of Winter> and a bland inspirational quote.

In fact, “no response” is also a public relations strategy. Although somewhat passive, in situations prone to “the more you explain, the worse it gets”, not responding often leads to the public’s frustrated feeling of punching cotton. Over time, the fervor dies down.

However, the effect of “no response” requires time to ferment, and neither Han Ze nor Cui Yanyan had that kind of time—as the buzz was just about to decline, the drama version of <Chronicles of Winter> officially premiered.

On June 3rd, due to Qi Luoluo’s emotional breakdown after being NG’d repeatedly by the director, leading to tears on set, the director, feeling helpless, had to wrap up early.

Saying it was early, but by the time Ran Lin returned to the hotel, it was almost 8:30 p.m.—due to the serious delays in filming, wrapping up at midnight had become the default schedule.

The first thing Ran Lin did upon returning to his room was turn on the TV to the channel airing <Chronicles of Winter>.

The scandal in the underground parking lot was unexpected for Ran Lin, and it was only after asking Wang Xi that he learned it was likely a maneuver by the movie version’s backers.

The incident was a massive blow to Han Ze. If the drama version of <Chronicles of Winter> didn’t excel, then Han Ze might never recover.

When he switched to the channel, the first episode of <Chronicles of Winter> had just finished airing, and it was now in the only commercial break between the two episodes.

Catching the only commercial break by chance, Ran Lin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He wondered if he and the drama version of <Chronicles of Winter> were simply not fated, as from the beginning to now, he had continuously missed it.

Having the drama version’s contract snatched away by Han Ze felt like a distant memory now, with so many other things happening afterward, like losing <Mint Green> to Zhang Beichen, getting the movie version of <Chronicles of Winter>, and even serendipitously landing <Dyeing Fire>. Now, even the movie version of <Chronicles of Winter> had finished filming, while the drama version, the original cause of all the fuss, had just started airing.

It felt like time had looped, with the end point returning to the beginning.

Honestly, Ran Lin was quite curious about the outcome of the drama version. Without any particular bias or emotion, he was simply curious, even if none of Han Ze’s messy incidents had occurred. He would have turned on the TV to see what the project he missed had turned into.

Finally, the commercial ended, and the theme song started.

The drama version’s opening was quite beautifully done, not using any songs but pure music with an ancient charm. Paired with the edited clips from the drama and attractive font design, the overall feel was naturally fresh and even a bit ethereal.

Finally, the words “Episode Two” appeared slowly with the ending notes of the theme song.

Then the screen shifted, and the main drama began.

“Xiao Shitou—”

A call, melodious and rich in emotion, full of innocence and liveliness. But the expression on the face of “Ah Jin” who appeared on the screen, was gentler than lively, causing a slight dissonance with the voice.

Ran Lin immediately recognized that it wasn’t Cui Yanyan’s original voice but was dubbed by a voice actor.

Before he could ponder further, the camera gradually zoomed out to show Ah Jin running excitedly towards the cave she and Xiao Shitou often played in, holding some sweet dandelions she had secretly plucked.

In the original novel, the surrounding mountains of the village should be listless under the scorching sun, with even the leaves curled from the heat. But the drama’s mountains, due to overly bright color correction, appeared lush and vibrant, quite the opposite of the intended depiction.

Soon, the scene switched inside the cave, where Han Ze’s Xiao Shitou was fiddling with the “sweet dandelions” he had previously plucked, exploring the secrets of the herb that the village had cultivated for generations. This was a secret activity between him and Ah Jin.

Although Han Ze’s appearance wasn’t exactly youthful, he was still handsome and proud, looking like someone who would contend with the heavens.

After watching the episode, although it was different from Ran Lin’s imagined <Chronicles of Winter>, besides the overly bright coloring and some crude special effects in larger scenes, it wasn’t too bad. Perhaps because he was thoroughly familiar with the original story, it didn’t strike him as stunning but merely adequate.

By the end of the closing song, Ran Lin scrolled through the comments on the episode on Weibo, finding them overwhelmingly critical.

Some critiques were specific to the drama—

[Mediocre script, acting, visuals, and cheap special effects = dropping the show.]

[If you’ve chosen actors around 25, don’t try to make them act like they’re 15. Trying to look younger is really awkward.]

[It has all the shortcomings typical of domestic fantasy dramas—not terrible, but somewhat boring, which is worse than being hilariously bad, as at least that could provide meme material.]

[I just want to ask the post-production team: What’s with the obsession with color correction? Can’t the visuals be fresh and elegant instead of garishly colorful?]

[Although I know the plot hasn’t unfolded in the first two episodes, is the pacing too slow? I really don’t feel like continuing.]

Others combined their comments with the previous negative impressions, sparing no mercy—

[Fans, don’t call for focusing on the work and staying away from personal lives when the work itself is not up to par!]

[How many people, like me, can’t continue watching Han Ze and Cui Yanyan pretend to be childhood sweethearts of pure innocence?]

[No, I just can’t. Every time they appear together, I’m reminded of the underground parking lot scandal.]

[There are actually people following this drama? I don’t even want to watch it.]

[Those pairing Xiao Shitou and Ah Jing as perfect; have you considered Xiao Tianyu’s feelings? 😔]

Whether it was specific critiques or overall reviews, the comments were mostly from casual viewers, with fans seemingly rare. It’s unclear if this was because most had already jumped ship or they were keeping a low profile during this controversial time, silently supporting.

Ran Lin exited Weibo, not quite sure what to feel; it was a mix of emotions, some complex, some reflective.

Staring blankly at the TV commercials, his stomach suddenly protested with a grumble.

Ran Lin came back to his senses, realizing he hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

These days, with the hectic schedule bringing him back to the hotel at midnight, his dinners usually consisted of quickly nibbling on some bread or, more often, skipping it altogether.

Today, with some rare free time and it being only 9:40 p.m., Ran Lin decided to go out for a proper hot meal.

Within minutes, Ran Lin was ready and leaving his room.

Just as he closed the door and turned around, he heard another door opening down the hallway. Instinctively looking over, he saw Gu Jie stepping out from a room, closing the door behind him.

From a distance, Ran Lin couldn’t make out Gu Jie’s expression, but the sound of the door closing wasn’t small; in the enclosed corridor, it was clearly audible and lingered for a while.

It wasn’t exactly a door slam, but it wasn’t a gentle close either—more of a slightly forceful shut.

Ran Lin stood frozen, unsure whether to call out to his friend, as the room Gu Jie had just exited was Qi Luoluo’s.

“Ran Lin?” Gu Jie was the first to notice him and immediately walked over.

As Gu Jie approached, Ran Lin could see he was dressed in casual shorts and a tank top, just the relaxed attire he usually wore after wrapping up for the day, but his mood seemed agitated, with a lingering trace of irritation between his brows.

Well, that settled any hesitation about greeting him. Ran Lin offered a sheepish smile. “Have you eaten yet?”

Gu Jie naturally nodded. “I ate when I got back.”

“Oh.” Ran Lin felt a bit disappointed. “I was planning to go out for something to eat and thought if you hadn’t, we could go together.”

“I’ve already eaten, but I can still go out for a snack,” Gu Jie said without hesitation, scratching his head. “I was actually thinking of going out for a walk anyway.”

Without waiting for Ran Lin to respond, he slung an arm around Ran Lin’s neck and casually strolled toward the elevator.

Although Ran Lin’s body followed his friend’s pace, his mind was somewhat in a whirl.

Gu Jie didn’t seem to be acting like a guilty thief; he didn’t even ask, “When did you come out?” which was in line with his typically straightforward nature. But the way he closed the door, not too gently nor too forcefully, along with his tone and demeanor at the moment, seemed to radiate an air of annoyance rather than one of being in a good mood.

As Gu Jie released him and pressed the elevator button, Ran Lin shook his head, telling himself not to overthink, and decided to directly ask Gu Jie what was going on once they got to a suitable place for conversation. He figured the answer might come faster that way.

But as clear as he was about this, his brain had other ideas. Watching the elevator numbers descend, Ran Lin couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on between Gu Jie and Qi Luoluo.

The past few days of filming had been the same, aside from Qi Luoluo’s consistent NGs as the queen of retakes. If there was anything different today, it was that the continuous days of shooting pressure had mounted on everyone, leading to today’s NGs. The director got a bit impatient, and Qi Luoluo even broke down in tears on the spot, but ultimately, the director didn’t lose his temper and just decided to wrap up early.

Was Gu Jie specifically going to comfort Qi Luoluo?

That didn’t seem like something Gu Jie would typically do.

And if it was indeed comfort, why did Gu Jie emerge looking annoyed? It didn’t make sense.

Unable to figure it out, Ran Lin felt frustrated. He had been too engrossed in the alternate world of Weibo lately, so much so that he was completely oblivious to the subtle changes happening in the real world around him.

As the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors slid open, Ran Lin finally shut down his “detective mode” and stopped his wild speculations.

It was nearly 10 p.m.—not too late but not too early either. The two found a small eatery nearby and ordered a few dishes. Ran Lin went for a bowl of noodles, and Gu Jie opted for a beer.

The eatery was small but bustling. Most customers chose to sit outside at the outdoor tables for their late-night meals, while Ran Lin and Gu Jie opted for the only private room available. After ordering, once the waiter left and the door closed behind him, turning on the air conditioning isolated all the heat and noise outside.

Soon, the temperature in the small room dropped to a comfortable coolness, but the atmosphere, much like the temperature, was slightly chilly.

Gu Jie stared at the empty table, seemingly lost in thought, and judging from his pursed lips, it probably wasn’t something pleasant.

Ran Lin, propping his chin with his hand, hesitated for a long time before gently speaking up. “I saw you coming out of Qi Luoluo’s room just now.”

Gu Jie looked up in surprise, asking reflexively. “You saw that?”

His friend’s question was too sincere, causing Ran Lin to doubt for a moment. He repeatedly recalled the scene before confirming he hadn’t mistaken, then looked back at his friend with disbelief. “When you looked up, wasn’t I right there? Of course, I saw it.”

Gu Jie exhaled a long sigh of relief, as if unloading a great burden. “I was worried about whether I should tell you. If I don’t, it feels suffocating, but talking about it feels like gossiping, which isn’t very manly.”

Desire for gossip is universal, but Gu Jie’s last half-sentence made Ran Lin slightly ashamed of his own curiosity.

Finally, getting serious, Ran Lin said, “If you want to tell it, I’ll keep quiet and listen, and I promise not to spread it. If you don’t want to talk about it, we’ll pretend it never happened.”

Gu Jie rolled his eyes. “After all that, you’re just going to leave me hanging? Are you trying to suffocate me to death?”

Ran Lin laughed, about to speak, when the waiter entered with their order, setting down the beer, noodles, and dishes in one go.

Gu Jie couldn’t be bothered to fetch a bottle opener and used his chopsticks to pry open the bottle cap, pouring himself a full glass and drinking half of it in one gulp, the cool liquid refreshing him.

Once the waiter had left and the door was closed again, Ran Lin slurped up a mouthful of noodles, then looked at Gu Jie with an “I’m all ears” expression.

Gu Jie put down his glass, not touching the food, furrowing his brow as if thinking about how to start.

Ran Lin continued eating his noodles, patiently waiting.

Gu Jie wasn’t particularly eloquent, especially compared to many other artists in the entertainment industry; he was more about blunt truths. Plus, his thoughts were simple, without too many twists and turns, so in his early years, he often fell into traps laid by journalists. Eventually, he learned to keep quiet when in doubt, gradually decreasing the frequency of his gaffes.

But with friends, Gu Jie had fewer reservations. The hesitation to speak now was purely because the matter at hand was somewhat delicate…

“She called me over,” Gu Jie finally began, “saying she wanted to go over some scenes from the day that couldn’t be shot due to NGs.”

“And you went?” Ran Lin couldn’t predict what happened next but had a bad feeling.

“She asked for help with rehearsing, and I couldn’t refuse,” Gu Jie stated matter-of-factly. “It’s just lending a hand, and if it helps her performance, leading to a successful shoot tomorrow, that’s good for the entire crew.”

Ran Lin sighed helplessly. “But did you consider how it would look to go to a female actor’s room late at night if someone saw you?”

“Of course, I considered it,” Gu Jie said. “Which is why I planned to keep the door open the entire time.”

Ran Lin frowned. “Then why did I hear the door closing?”

Gu Jie explained, “Because later in the rehearsal, she suddenly closed the door.”

“……” Ran Lin’s mind raced with all sorts of unsuitable-for-children scenarios.

Ignoring his friend’s ambiguous silence, Gu Jie massaged his aching head and continued, “After she closed the door, she started crying, saying how serious and hardworking she is in acting, how many of the NGs could have been okayed, and that the director’s demands were too harsh…”

Ran Lin guessed the gist. “So she was hoping you would talk to the director on her behalf?”

Gu Jie corrected him, “She was crying and trying to snuggle into my arms while saying all that.”

“……” Ran Lin had anticipated the ending, but not the process.

“If she was genuinely crying, really feeling unappreciated and unjust, I could have comforted her as a brother,” Gu Jie expressed his frustration. “But she wasn’t. She was crying, and at the same time…”

Ran Lin leaned in eagerly, his ears practically antennas.

Alas, his friend skipped over the details and concluded, “Anyway, I felt her intentions weren’t pure, so I just left.”

Ran Lin tilted his head in thought and said, “Strictly speaking, you were harassed, but at least you didn’t suffer much. Don’t be upset about it.”

“I’m not upset about that. I’m a grown man; what harm could I have suffered?” Gu Jie responded, “I’m frustrated because if she knows there’s a problem with her acting, she should work on it and overcome it through diligence, not resort to underhanded tactics.”

Ran Lin nodded, understanding Gu Jie’s feelings now. They were the ones who had the most scenes with Qi Luoluo, so they knew best what she was like.

After more than ten days of working together, Qi Luoluo’s constant NGs had been a stumbling block, and while she seemed receptive to criticism, she never seemed to improve. The director repeatedly pointed out the same issues, yet she would repeat the same mistakes in different scenes the next day, indicating a lack of effort on her part. If she had put in even a little effort, the difference would have been noticeable. Just as Gu Jie said, diligence can compensate for deficiencies.

With this new development and having to continue acting opposite her tomorrow, Gu Jie’s frustration was understandable.

“Let’s not think about it anymore.” Gu Jie finished his half cup of remaining beer and poured a second one, clinking it against Ran Lin’s bowl of noodles in a toast-like gesture before downing it in one gulp.

Seeing his usually carefree friend so troubled, Ran Lin couldn’t help but feel concerned.

The next day, on the set of <Dyeing Fire>, Ran Lin’s concerns were realized.

Qi Luoluo continued her streak of NGs, and today, Gu Jie joined her in the struggle.

Gu Jie’s personality was such that it was obvious when something was bothering him, and the excess thoughts also interfered with his performance. After the director called “cut” a few times, sensing something amiss, he pulled Gu Jie aside for a private talk outside the shooting area.

The crew, crammed in the rental house’s “living room”, looked at each other, puzzled at why the usually consistent Gu Jie was suddenly making as many mistakes as Qi Luoluo.

The makeup artist took the opportunity to touch up Qi Luoluo’s makeup, carefully blotting the sweat from her forehead before reapplying powder.

Ran Lin’s side was much simpler; a quick wipe of sweat was all he needed, as he was practically half in makeup.

As the crew enjoyed a rare break, chatting in small groups, Ran Lin headed to the “bedroom”, where a just-retouched Qi Luoluo was taking refuge from the heat in the air-conditioned room.

“It’s pretty hot today,” Ran Lin said as he entered, attempting to strike up a casual conversation.

“Yeah.” The girl smiled back at him, neither too intimately nor too distantly, just friendly.

Ran Lin finally realized what felt odd about Qi Luoluo from the night before. The Qi Luoluo he knew was always quite natural and comfortable, so the girl Gu Jie described didn’t seem to fit with the “Qi Luoluo” he knew.

But perhaps he hadn’t really understood her, Ran Lin thought, because ever since Qi Luoluo joined the crew, Han Ze’s side had been restless, so aside from focusing on acting, his remaining attention was diverted there, leaving no room for deeper interactions with Qi Luoluo.

“I’ve been holding back the progress of the crew.” Qi Luoluo suddenly spoke up in a low, disheartened voice. “Ran Ge, you must be mad at me too.”

Ran Lin involuntarily frowned. He wasn’t expecting Qi Luoluo to bring up this sensitive topic, and then there was…

“Why ‘too’?” He followed up on her wording.

Qi Luoluo looked up with a touch of sadness in her delicately arched brows. “Because Gu Ge is already mad at me, and today he deliberately NG’d.”

The word “deliberately” surprised Ran Lin, as Gu Jie was the least likely to do such a thing. But what intrigued him more was her use of the term “mad”.

She clearly knew why Gu Jie was upset but mentioning it to a “third party” like him seemed risky.

“Why would Gu Jie be mad at you?” Ran Lin still asked.

Qi Luoluo looked at him puzzledly, saying, “Didn’t I just say it? Because I’ve been holding back the progress of the crew.”

Ran Lin blinked, taken aback, before realizing Qi Luoluo wasn’t admitting to anything about harassing Gu Jie the previous night.

On one hand, he berated himself for jumping to conclusions, and on the other, he was amazed at Qi Luoluo’s composure. Perhaps she thought he and Gu Jie weren’t close enough for Gu Jie to tell him about the incident, so she was utterly composed now.

“Ran Ge?” Qi Luoluo blinked in confusion. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Oh,” Ran Lin snapped back to reality and said, “I was thinking about the script.”

“You’re really good at acting,” Qi Luoluo said earnestly, then glanced cautiously towards the door as if ensuring it was safe, before whispering, “Actually, I’ve always thought you should be the male lead. Compared to your acting, Gu Ge is still lacking.”

“……” Ran Lin was at a loss for words.

“Don’t tell Gu Ge what I said, okay?” Qi Luoluo playfully stuck out her tongue, looking playful and cute.

But Ran Lin couldn’t appreciate her charm objectively anymore. His feelings were indescribably mixed.

After making an excuse to end the conversation, Ran Lin returned to the “living room” and buried himself in the script for a long time. Just as he was settling down, the director and Gu Jie returned, announcing a change in the shooting schedule. Due to Gu Jie’s poor condition, they wouldn’t shoot interior scenes today but would instead switch to exterior long shots, which required little dialogue or acting, just the presence of the actors.

When the decision was announced, Director He’s expression was unreadable, as usual.

But Ran Lin felt a storm brewing behind his eyes, unsure of what exactly had transpired between him and Gu Jie.

As for Gu Jie, he was visibly downcast, likely upset about his lack of focus. After all, he was someone who would rather work through the night than delay the progress of the crew.

As the director commanded, the crew had to move, so everyone headed to the outskirts of Wuhan to shoot some long shots and back views. However, none of these scenes required Jiang Xiaoxiao’s appearance, so when the crew headed out to the suburbs, the director asked Qi Luoluo to return to the hotel first.

By 7 p.m., Ran Lin followed the crew’s car back to the hotel and saw that Gu Jie was still in low spirits. He tried to take him out for dinner and drinks, but his friend declined.

“I don’t feel like going out today,” Gu Jie refused simply.

Ran Lin sighed and considerately asked, “So do you want to stay alone in the room, or would you like some company to chat with?” Implying he was fine with either, whether Gu Jie wanted to be alone or needed someone to talk to, he was ready to oblige.

Gu Jie chose neither but proposed option C instead.

So, ten minutes later, Ran Lin was timing him, watching how many push-ups he could do in a minute. It was more about Gu Jie venting his frustration than exercising, from yesterday’s “accident” to today’s NG. For someone who usually goes about life carefree, these setbacks were troubling.

After a round of push-ups, Gu Jie’s muscles seemed even more defined.

Ran Lin pondered whether he should also start working out more seriously while casually asking, “What did you and Director He talk about for so long, and why did it lead to changing to outdoor scenes?”

Gu Jie despairingly replied, “It wasn’t talking; it was more like intense interrogation.”

Ran Lin swallowed hard. “Did the director… hit you?”

“Almost,” Gu Jie said, defeated, wiping his face with the hem of his tank top, “if I didn’t tell the truth.”

Despite always finding Director He to be a good-tempered person, Ran Lin realized that perhaps the director was less polite with Gu Jie, possibly due to their familiarity and the director’s direct nature. If he was set on clarifying something, cornering Gu Jie and pressuring him was a possibility, especially given Gu Jie’s unusual behavior today.

The only actress had already been a letdown, and with the male lead acting out of character, the director was probably desperate to resolve the issues, preferring clarity over leaving things unsettled.

“So the director now knows about Qi Luoluo seeking you out?” Ran Lin didn’t really need to ask to confirm.

Sure enough, Gu Jie nodded helplessly.

They discussed what Gu Jie intended to do about it, as Qi Luoluo hadn’t really done anything offensive, and he had already rejected her. But he hadn’t expected to be so off today that the director noticed something was amiss.

“I know you’re feeling conflicted,” Ran Lin pointed out, “like you’ve snitched, right?”

Gu Jie looked up in surprise. “Exactly!”

Ran Lin sighed and analyzed, “The core issue is the serious delay in shooting progress. The director and the producer are worried about it. Even if it wasn’t for the issue between you and Qi Luoluo, her NGs would have eventually brought up other problems. The shooting can’t go on like this.”

Before Gu Jie could respond, his phone rang. After a brief “hello,” the conversation was mostly from the other side. It ended quickly, and Gu Jie hung up.

Ran Lin raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

Gu Jie straightforwardly replied, “Director He has called Qi Luoluo for a talk.”

Perhaps due to the shadow left by Gu Jie’s incident, Ran Lin’s first reaction was, “Called to his own room? Just the two of them?”

“No,” Gu Jie said. “Director He’s assistant was also there.”

Ran Lin realized belatedly that his worries were completely unnecessary.

After all, Director He had been in the entertainment industry for so many years. He wasn’t just any individual but a truly sage figure, having experienced more pitfalls than they had trodden paths. By now, he was well-guarded and invulnerable.

“Hold on.” Ran Lin suddenly remembered something. “Who called you?”

“My assistant,” Gu Jie said.

Ran Lin frowned. “Why would your assistant keep an eye on every move of Director He?”

“I asked him to,” Gu Jie replied, placing his phone back on the table. “I had a feeling that Director He would take some action today.”

Ran Lin prodded, “Then guess what Director He might say to Qi Luoluo.”

Gu Jie responded with a frustrated tone, “If I could read his mind, I would be the director…”

The two chatted desultorily until they were too tired to continue and didn’t come to any conclusive result, eventually going to sleep.

The next day, they both woke up to a notification—the crew was halting production for a day. The notice was sent to a WeChat group, meaning every crew member received it, and it wasn’t just a blunt announcement of a halt but rather a tactful explanation of the reason—the need to find a new actress to play Jiang Xiaoxiao.

This tactful approach didn’t outright say the crew had terminated the contract with Qi Luoluo but given the size of the crew and their awareness of the shooting conditions over the past few days, it wasn’t just about the delayed schedule. It was also about the quality of the scenes that barely made it through, which were not up to the director’s high standards. Everyone could see that even the scenes that were passed were reluctantly approved, and those that couldn’t pass were far from even being marginally acceptable. Director He was famous for his pursuit of quality, leading to private discussions about a potential change in cast. Now that it had happened, it wasn’t surprising.

However, the director didn’t have the power to directly fire the actress. Everyone had to adhere to the contract and terminating the contract with Qi Luoluo meant paying a penalty fee. Nevertheless, the director and producer decided to go through with it, likely seeing it as a lesser of two evils. They probably reasoned that finding a reliable new actress would only push back the wrap-up date by a month or so, which was preferable to facing an impossible situation at the end.

On June 5th, all members of the <Dyeing Fire> crew were idly in the hotel, and most of them felt that the “one-day halt” was optimistic. If finding a suitable emergency replacement actress was that easy, the director wouldn’t have been so distressed initially, resorting to casting a newcomer recommended by an acquaintance.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Suddenly Trending Ch79

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 79

When he clicked on the video, it was quiet, with only a past version of himself holding a green frog plushie, motionless. If it weren’t for the progress bar moving forward, one might think someone had pressed the pause button.

“Bell!”

The sudden shout from the speakers startled Ran Lin.

He didn’t remember being so heart-wrenchingly loud at the time!

In the video, Ran Lin wasn’t disturbed by the outside world; he was like frozen in a moment belonging only to “Xiao Shitou”—no past or future, no distinction between in-character and out-of-character—only the present, only the “Bell” in his arms…

“Don’t leave me.”

His fair and handsome face slowly lifted with his choked words, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Initially, there was only one drop.

Then gradually, they flowed like a spring.

In the video, Ran Lin suddenly hugged the “green frog” tightly, crying intensely yet silently, the sorrow nearly spilling out of the screen.

The real Ran Lin, holding his phone, was moved by the performance, feeling bitter and sour, his eyes becoming hot again; he almost fell in love with that version of himself, completely immersed in the role.

Long after the video had ended, the warmth in Ran Lin’s eyes slowly subsided, and then he clicked on the video comments with great anticipation—

[Beishan’s Blue Cloud: Hahahahahahahahahahaha]

[Eggie18748: Hahahahahahahahahahaha]

[Shepherd Pointing to Putian Village: Hahahahahahahahahahaha]

[Aessle: Hahahahahahahahahahaha]

Holding the knife in his chest, Ran Lin bravely scrolled down, finally seeing a warm comment—

[First Nine Night Sleepless: How can you all laugh at such a touching scene! Doesn’t your conscience hurt? Have you considered Bell’s feelings… No, I can’t hold it in anymore hahahaha…]

Ran Lin felt like he was about to cough up blood.

This lesson taught him to read all comments before getting moved.

However, although every visitor or fan started with a dozen laughs, after the laughter, they still gave positive feedback, even many with surprise and admiration—

[Deputy Commissioner Yabe Kenzo: This is acting. I didn’t even laugh, and I felt a hint of sadness?]

[Yulin Bell: Why did the poster only give full marks? I want to give one hundred and one, the extra point is not for my idol to get proud! Lalala ❤️]

[NanaNANA: Am I the only one scared throughout that the plushie might be revived by ‘true love’s tears’? This acting is simply witchcraft!! 😨]

[Yaozhi Not Snow: I think it’s already difficult not to break character laughing, yet he managed to cry, and the crying was incredibly moving. I’d choose Ran Lin as a director too, no doubt. 👍]

[Lin’s Family Burning Noodles: At the first and second watch, I was laughing, but after the third and fourth watch, I was moved, my heart felt heavy 😔. I liked my idol from the variety show, fell deeply in love because of Fallen Flowers, and now I’m utterly addicted to his acting. Do you understand the feeling of thinking you’re picking up a silver ingot, but inside is gold, diamonds, jade, and emerald 😆. Finally, super looking forward to the movie’s release! Wishing it a blockbuster success!! 🧸 🧸]

[Love Yao For Life: Feelings too complex, don’t know what to say, just sneakily leave a like… 🏃‍♀️]

Nothing is more pleasing than having one’s skills affirmed, and by the end, Ran Lin was already full of energy and fighting spirit, inside and out. Looking back at those laughs, he couldn’t help but grin.

There were passersby enjoying the spectacle, fans spamming support, and analysts seeing through the phenomena—

[This Is a Water Army* User: Am I the only one who thinks releasing Ran Lin’s audition clip at this time is to slap Han Ze’s face? 🐶]

*It refers to a group of internet users who are paid to manipulate public opinion on social media platforms. This manipulation can include positing positive comments to boost the image of a product or person, creating artificial hype or buzz, or posting negative or defamatory content against a competitor.

[Don’t Make Pancakes Spicy: The drama version can hype itself. Why pull the movie version to take the fall, now getting counterblasted all around.]

[Chujiu Month Like Frost: This is Han Ze stirring up his own mess. The drama version’s official Weibo has been silent from the beginning and initially didn’t drag in <Chronicles of Winter> movie. It was all about Han Ze changing agents, then it escalated to the movie vs drama version, Han Ze’s fans claiming Ran Lin got the movie because of agent favoritism, and if not, Han Ze would have been the movie lead, resulting in the movie side being displeased. They first issued a statement, then leaked the audition clip, obviously countering Han Ze’s claims.]

[Iceberg’s White Lotus*: Agree with the analysis in the hot comments. If it was drama version hyping, only a fool would hype “Han Ze missing out on Chronicles of Winter movie”. That would imply the drama version is inferior, right? So, from beginning to end, it was Han Ze’s own doing. Drama version Chronicles of Winter took the hit, and Ran Lin was even more unlucky, stabbed in the back by a fellow company artist. The comments under his Weibo the past few days are unwatchable, all insults.]

*Refers to a person who appears innocent and pure but is actually deceitful and manipulative. This comes from the way the white lotus (on the surface) looks beautiful but is contrasted by the murky environment where its roots lie.

[Han Meimei_Childhood Memory: I just want to ask who is still looking forward to the drama version. I’m ready to wait directly for the movie version. Not to mention the hype, just for Ran Lin’s acting, it’s worth looking forward to. 😎]

[Domestic 001: The drama version’s investors must be crying at home. Out of all the people, they had to pick such a drama queen… 😥]

Exiting the hot searches and returning to his homepage, his private messages were overflowing again.

Although there were still many malicious messages from Han Ze’s fans, encouragement, confessions, and even apologies made up a significant portion.

The internet is the most direct and uninhibited platform. Typing a long message is just a few keystrokes, so people can express freely, whether they hate or praise. People’s emotions always fluctuate with the ever-changing events.

Just as he was about to log off Weibo, Ran Lin inadvertently saw a repost from Gu Jie—

[Instantly became a film emperor 🤣 //@Lu Yiyao: Tang Jingyu doesn’t want to talk and throws a flying knife at you 👋 //@Tang Xiaoyu: You all are late to know. I’ve already experienced the fear of being dominated by his crying scenes in Fallen Flowers. Once he cries, everyone cries 😓 //@Xia Xinran: Hahahahaha //@Xiaogua Watching Movies: <Chronicles of Winter> audition footage leaked. Ran Lin VS Bell, showcasing what true acting is! This crying scene is definitely top-notch, but all I want to do is 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣 [Video link]]

Ran Lin watched the whole thing twice, from beginning to end, and felt that he wasn’t looking at a Weibo post but a sweet potato vine. A few digs into the soil, and he pulled out a string of sweet potatoes.

With such a clear direction pointed out, Ran Lin simply browsed the comments under the Weibo posts of these few friends.

Under Xia Xinran and Gu Jie’s posts, the theme was pretty much the same—laughing so unrestrainedly, they must be true friends!

Under Tang Xiaoyu and Lu Yiyao’s posts, the style was more diverse: some expressed admiration for their respective idols, some praised the drama “Falling Flowers”, others envied their friendship, and of course, there were those who were seeing the video for the first time due to their idols’ repost and were praising Ran Lin’s acting.

All in all, it was filled with positive and uplifting energy.

After hesitating for a moment, Ran Lin logged out of his main Weibo account and switched to his alternate account. In the vast sea of comments under Lu Yiyao’s post, he left a heart.

Suddenly, his phone dinged with a drop sound.

Ran Lin jumped, thinking he had been caught snooping with his alternate account, but it turned out to be a message from Lu Yiyao asking if he had finished work for the day.

It was already past eight in the evening.

Today was one of the rare days he had finished early; Ran Lin remembered it was just past six when he returned, and he was surprised that just a few scrolls on Weibo had passed two hours.

He replied, “Finished work. At the hotel,” and immediately, a video call invitation from his lover came through. Ran Lin, thinking he hadn’t eaten dinner yet, answered the call, and to Lu Yiyao, it appeared as if his lover was deep in thought with a serious expression.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Yiyao instinctively worried.

Ran Lin couldn’t very well say he was thinking about what to eat, so he simply said, “I was scrolling through Weibo just now.”

Lu Yiyao, a bit disappointed that he couldn’t be the bearer of good news, was more puzzled. “And you look like that after scrolling?”

“I was thinking…” Ran Lin drew out the word until he saw the curiosity in his lover’s eyes peak, then he let out the rest, “about how good my acting is.”

“…” Lu Yiyao felt incredibly naive for getting his hopes up.

Seeing Lu Yiyao’s exasperated expression, Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh, finally composing himself to say, “I told you Xi Jie would have a way. I didn’t lie to you.”

“Mm,” Lu Yiyao responded softly.

Although he seemed a bit absent-minded, he was actually quite surprised at how quickly and impressively Wang Xi had turned the situation around.

It wasn’t just about silencing those questioning Ran Lin’s opportunity to star in the movie version; it also managed to boost Ran Lin’s acting credibility and likability, all the while dragging Han Ze into a murky mess. The drama version was set to air on June 3rd, meaning it would start broadcasting in a little over a week. According to usual practice, widespread promotion was expected, and it was foreseeable how much ridicule Han Ze would face. His botched attempt at hype didn’t just affect him but implicated the entire drama crew. As for the movie version, releasing the audition clip showed a firm stance against Han Ze, and if the movie investors were the vindictive type, Han Ze might as well forget about working with them ever again.

It was killing three birds with one stone—not something every agent could pull off.

Lu Yiyao was mulling over this when he heard the voice from the screen say, “I also saw the Weibo you reposted.”

Lu Yiyao felt embarrassed. “You really did a thorough scroll.”

“Actually, I saw Gu Jie’s first,” Ran Lin confessed, “and then I saw the whole string of your reposts.”

“Yeah, once the video came out, we all helped to repost,” Lu Yiyao said with a hint of jealousy. “You’re quite the heartthrob.”

Ran Lin chuckled. “Are you jealous of friendship too?”

Lu Yiyao shrugged. “Who knows if it’s pure friendship between you guys.”

“The others are thousands of miles away from me. The only one I see every day is Gu Jie.” Ran Lin leaned closer to the screen. “Are you sure you want to question my friendship with Gu Jie?”

“…” Lu Yiyao let his imagination run wild for a moment, then realized it was still all blue skies and fresh air. “Okay, I apologize to him.”

Ran Lin, amused, eventually remembered to ask about his lover’s recent work. “Is filming going smoothly?”

“Pretty smooth,” Lu Yiyao said. “The actors are reliable, and the atmosphere in the crew is good.”

Ran Lin sighed faintly, barely audible. “That’s good.”

Although the sigh was soft, Lu Yiyao still caught it. “What’s wrong? Are things not going smoothly on your end?”

“It’s not exactly rough.” Ran Lin, sitting cross-legged on the bed, placed his phone aside, grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the bedside table, took a big gulp, and then said, “But you know, a new actress joined the crew a few days ago, right? She can’t seem to get a grip on her character, so whenever she’s in a scene, we end up shooting several takes. The director has to explain the scene over and over, and it barely passes, so the filming schedule has slowed down these past few days, and the director is quite anxious.”

Lu Yiyao hadn’t worked with He Guan but had heard of his high demands for actors, so he understood what Ran Lin was saying. Not getting the right feel for a scene meant multiple takes, not just settling for mediocrity like some directors might. But because it was He Guan, Lu Yiyao was puzzled. “How did such an actor join the crew? Didn’t she audition?”

“She did,” Ran Lin said. “But the audition was a bit rushed. The director wasn’t completely satisfied but didn’t find it terrible either, and it was a recommendation from someone they knew, so they probably thought it’d be fine. Plus, she was kind of a last-minute addition; the character was supposed to join at the beginning of the month.”

“I bet He Guan is regretting it now.” Lu Yiyao sighed. “That’s not saving the day, that’s adding chaos.”

“You can’t say that.” Ran Lin, putting aside the acting part, had a relatively positive impression of Qi Luoluo. “She’s not deliberately acting poorly. She’s also anxious with each NG, and her attitude has always been very good, almost apologetic from start to finish, which is quite pitiful.”

“It’s a job.” Lu Yiyao, not knowing Qi Luoluo or even what she looked like, could only look at the matter very calmly and objectively. “A good attitude doesn’t compensate for the loss caused by low work efficiency. If it were me, I’d rather choose an actor who’s difficult and temperamental but gets it right after the clapperboard hits once.”

Ran Lin immediately thought of a former co-star who fit the description. “Xi Ruohan, for instance?”

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. “I mentioned actors, not actresses, so the fact that you immediately mentioned her name makes me think we need to discuss the deeper reasons.”

Ran Lin: “……”

Why are you jealous of a female actress in front of a gay guy!

The “lovers’ video time” that evening didn’t last too long because Ran Lin accidentally let slip that he hadn’t eaten dinner yet. As a result, the strict Teacher Lu ordered him to go eat immediately and ruthlessly ended the video call.

Ran Lin pouted at his suddenly blank phone screen, glanced at the time, and sadly realized it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet.

That meant they had only talked for just over half an hour!

Feeling unsatisfied but helpless, Ran Lin could only pocket his phone, get up, and put on his shoes. Fortunately, he hadn’t changed out of his clothes since he returned to the hotel and started browsing Weibo, so now he just put on his shoes, pulled out his room card, and went out to find something to eat.

……

While Ran Lin went out for dinner, Lu Yiyao picked up the script for tomorrow’s filming, and in the Dream Without Limits office building in Beijing, all areas were dark except for two still brightly lit—the publicity department and the president’s office.

Since the movie version of <Chronicles of Winter> crew’s announcement hit the hot searches at noon, Deng Minru had plunged into the publicity director’s office, discussing PR strategies. By evening, when the audition video was leaked, Wang Xi, who had been preparing to leave work, was summoned into the president’s office.

In fact, when the rumors about Han Ze missing out on the movie version started yesterday, Deng Minru and Wang Xi had both been “invited” for a “heart-to-heart” in the president’s office.

Wang Xi didn’t know what was discussed with Deng Minru, but according to the president, the “heart-to-heart” with Deng Minru involved her being heavily criticized.

While the president’s words might have been exaggerated, the criticism was definite. Regardless of how things had developed, the instigators were Deng Minru and Han Ze. The company might turn a blind eye to some extent, but there’s a limit to what’s acceptable. After all, both Han Ze and Ran Lin are the company’s artists, and they don’t want to lose any of them.

Yesterday, the president’s “heart-to-heart” with Wang Xi mainly focused on “soothing” and repeatedly emphasized taking care of Ran Lin’s emotions, not to let him openly tear into his fellow artists.

After the initial “dissatisfaction,” “injustice,” and “resentment,” Wang Xi was gradually “convinced” by the boss, so the latter half was all about being sensible with “yes, yes, yes” and “okay, okay, okay,” a model employee, to the president’s satisfaction. After letting her go, he focused on crisis PR in the publicity department, hoping to control the direction of public opinion as much as possible and prevent the subtle insinuation about Han Ze missing out on the movie from fermenting.

The effect was naturally limited.

But nothing could compare to today’s double whammy—announcement + audition video.

While Deng Minru was already frazzled in the publicity department, Wang Xi, who had just tidied up her desk to leave, was pulled into the president’s office for the second time.

When she saw the announcement at noon, Wang Xi was surprised by the speed of Shi Jiuting’s action. But when the audition video came out just now, she was genuinely impressed by his tactics.

Only directors typically have actors’ audition videos, and usually, once auditioned, it’s done; no one looks back. Wang Xi had never thought of using the release of the video to quell doubts about Ran Lin’s acting. Shi Jiuting not only thought of it but also managed to boost Ran Lin’s popularity and garner him more fans after successfully vindicating him.

She was impressed by this move. But amidst her surprise, she also anticipated that the president would want to speak with her.

Until yesterday, the development of the situation followed the pattern of “Han Ze hypes—public opinion ferments—fans concentrate their sympathy on the movie vs. drama version casting—viciously attack and slander Ran Lin—public opinion nearly uncontrollable.” So, apart from Deng Minru, who might suspect her involvement without proof, everyone else would see her and Ran Lin as victims.

The president thought the same, hence the talk about already having criticized Deng Minru and the directive to soothe Ran Lin’s feelings.

But with today’s double strike, the president might need to rethink. Suspicion was almost inevitable.

Because when Wang Xi walked into the office, her face was perfectly clueless and flawless.

The president’s expression was grim. As soon as the office door closed, he began accusatorily, “Didn’t I tell you yesterday that this matter should end here, and I’ve already spoken to Minru about it? What’s the meaning of releasing an announcement and a video today?”

Wang Xi looked genuinely bewildered and almost blurted out, “What announcement and video?”

“Don’t play dumb with me…” The president had already decided it was Wang Xi’s doing, as she was known for her resourcefulness. But upon seeing the woman’s genuinely puzzled face, he was slightly taken aback, and even though his words still carried force, they had lost some conviction.

Wang Xi sat down across the president’s desk, looking directly at him without evasion. “What’s going on? Can you please not speak in riddles?”

Dominance in a confrontation is like a game of tug-of-war; once one side gains the upper hand, it’s hard to reverse it.

“The movie version of <Chronicles of Winter> crew released an announcement at noon, stating that the casting was fair and considered, and just now, they released a video of Ran Lin’s audition, clearly targeting Han Ze.” The certainty in the president’s eyes turned to doubt. “You didn’t do it?”

Wang Xi blinked a few times, then, with an innocent sigh, said, “How could I have such influence to command an official production crew? You’re flattering me.” Then, as if realizing something, she mused aloud, “Could it be the movie side got angry because the public opinion wasn’t suppressed and made all these moves?”

The president narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing every slight expression on his employee’s face.

Wang Xi let him look, occasionally showing a flicker of hurt at not being trusted.

After a long while, the president leaned back in his chair and sighed with a headache. “Now that it’s become such a mess, how do we wrap it up?”

“Is it… very serious?” Wang Xi earnestly asked while pulling her phone from her pocket. “Since you instructed me yesterday to leave everything to the publicity department, I haven’t really scrolled through Weibo much. Otherwise, seeing those slandering Ran Lin would make me upset…”

Ultimately, for Ran Lin, this was an unwarranted disaster, so the president momentarily set aside her suspicions and waited patiently for Wang Xi to check for herself. Wang Xi browsed very conscientiously, searching almost every key term related to the issue.

The president observed carefully, gradually easing his doubts. Like Wang Xi said, Dream Without Limits and Ran Lin didn’t have such influence, and it seemed more likely that the movie version had lashed out today because it was dragged into the negative event and wanted to clarify things immediately.

Finally, Wang Xi put down her phone and looked up, but remained silent. The president had to break the silence. “Saw everything?”

Wang Xi sighed and nodded.

It seemed sighs were contagious; the president also sighed lightly and took a sip of her now lukewarm tea.

After pondering for a while, when Wang Xi finally spoke, her eyes were full of a complex mixture of emotions. “I might be speaking after the fact now, but if I were Deng Minru, I wouldn’t have used Ran Lin to stir things up from the start. Both Ran Lin and Han Ze are Dream Without Limits artists—hurting either doesn’t benefit the company. Stirring me up is one thing. I can’t take Han Ze away. It’s his freedom to change agents but involving Ran Lin—that’s just too much. Ran Lin has been diligently working for the company these past years—you know that. He never made any demands on the company, even after ‘Fallen Flowers’ made him popular. He might have been a bit whimsical in choosing scripts, but he still took <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> because he knows the company made him what he is. He’s grateful…”

Perhaps the president was also tired from worrying over the past few days; he tiredly set down his cup and rarely agreed. “Ran Lin is indeed one of the more worry-free ones.”

“Sometimes I really feel sorry for him.” Wang Xi continued, “Take the instance of Han Ze’s set visit, for example. Ran Lin could have refused it. The movie version had such a big investment, and there was bound to be enough publicity, so there was no need for the actors to create stunts for hype. To put it bluntly, Han Ze’s visit was just to create a topic, to drag him along for the hype, but when I mentioned it, Ran Lin agreed right away because he saw Han Ze as one of his own, and of course, you help your own. But look at what Minru did with the drama version about to air. She brought up the change of agents for Han Ze and even claimed it was because of my partiality in allocating resources. You know my past relationship with Han Ze. Even if I were partial, whom do you think I would favor…”

“The release of the change of agents was explained to me by Minru already. Indeed, it wasn’t related to them,” the president interrupted Wang Xi. “But as the issue heated up, Minru thought instead of being passively hyped, better take charge themselves, even use the opportunity to promote the new drama. No one expected it to develop into this.”

“So, who has Ran Lin offended?” Wang Xi didn’t argue with the president about the origin of the issue; at this point, playing the victim was more effective than arguing over right and wrong. “He was just acting in the drama, and this came out of nowhere.”

Wang Xi’s words made the president feel sorry for Ran Lin as well, so he reiterated his command for Wang Xi to take good care of Ran Lin’s feelings.

It was supposed to be a reprimand, yet it turned into a session filled with guilt and comfort; the president himself couldn’t understand how it happened but felt it was natural. He rubbed his temples, ended the “lecture,” and allowed Wang Xi to leave work.

……

Ran Lin’s audition video circulated on Weibo for about two days, gradually cooling off, and as attention waned, the saga that started with “Han Ze changes agents” finally came to a widely welcomed conclusion after several reversals and face-slappings.

Han Ze’s post “Grateful for the past, looking forward to the unknown future” still hung on Weibo. It was now a sightseeing spot for “face-slapping tours”, with a mix of widespread mockery in the comments alongside those who still declared support and love for him, creating a somewhat absurd scene.

However, Han Ze ultimately couldn’t delete the post; doing so would be an admission of defeat, so he had no choice but to tough it out.

Fortunately, the uproar subsided on May 28th. The drama version of <Chronicles of Winter> officially released posters and behind-the-scenes footage, sparking the actual pre-broadcast promotion.

Han Ze quickly reposted it, and within a couple of days, his homepage was almost entirely filled with promotional messages for the drama version of <Chronicles of Winter> with the previous implicating post now rarely seen.

With limited investment in the drama version, there wasn’t a grand premiere ceremony, just a launch press conference.

The press conference was in Beijing, but Deng Minru still went to Han Ze’s apartment, picked him up after the stylist had finished his makeup, and then rushed together to the press conference venue.

This was the first meeting between the two since Deng Minru returned to the company to handle the PR crisis with the publicity department.

Without having time to establish any rapport, they were thrown into this mess. Deng Minru was frustrated, especially seeing Han Ze dressed smartly and looking unaffected, which made her even more depressed.

Deng Minru and Wang Xi were quite different. If Wang Xi was openly assertive, then Deng Minru was like a needle hidden in cotton. At first glance, she seemed gentle as water but was actually meticulous and not necessarily easier to deal with than Wang Xi; her methods of showing anger were just different.

“You look good.” Deng Minru smiled at him, but a closer look would reveal that the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Han Ze wasn’t overly sharp but wasn’t foolish either; a glance was enough to understand the implied meaning, so he returned it with a bitter smile. “For the first airing press conference, I can’t exactly show up looking gloomy.”

“Since you’ve learned your lesson this time, be obedient in the future,” Deng Minru said lightly. “I am your agent and won’t harm you.”

Han Ze lowered his eyes, pondered for a moment, then softly said, “Thank you, Minru Jie.”

Artists being this compliant was a relief for Deng Minru, but she still said, “It would’ve been better if it was like this from the start. The set visit was a good opportunity for publicity. It could’ve been hyped again these days, but now it’s no longer usable. I told you, risky publicity is prone to problems.”

“I’m sorry.” Han Ze wasn’t stingy with apologies.

Deng Minru sighed. “Let it be.”

She also made mistakes in this matter. She didn’t like Wang Xi’s arrogant demeanor, so even though Han Ze’s proposal was risky, she impulsively agreed, thinking it would be good for Wang Xi to face some hardship, but it ended up backfiring on her. Honestly, Wang Xi indeed had some skills.

But Deng Minru couldn’t think highly of an agent who was foolish enough to get romantically involved with their own artist. Moreover, this artist was an ingrate who turned around and told everything to her, implying that it was Wang Xi who pursued him aggressively, and he agreed out of helplessness. Then, once Ran Lin came along, Wang Xi shifted her attention to the new handsome guy.

Deng Minru really wanted to open up Wang Xi’s head to see if it was filled with tofu. However, as much of a scumbag Han Ze might be as a man, as an artist, he was pretty good—good-looking, ambitious, and, in some ways, quite gullible, making him relatively easy to manage.

While Deng Minru was pondering over Han Ze, he was also thinking about her. It wasn’t hard to guess Deng Minru’s feelings towards Wang Xi. His new agent clearly didn’t like Wang Xi, not because of personal or character issues but simply because there isn’t room for two tigers on one mountain. Deng Minru obviously wanted to be the head of the brokerage department, so even if Wang Xi were the embodiment of truth, goodness, and beauty, she wouldn’t like her.

He exploited this fact, so he brought up the publicity stunt proposal. Sabotaging Wang Xi was secondary; he wanted to sabotage Ran Lin. Just as Deng Minru disliked Wang Xi, he also disliked Ran Lin. A company can’t have two heads of the brokerage department, nor two top male stars.

The first airing press conference went smoothly. In the gaps of waiting for Han Ze, Deng Minru already had several whitewashing plans in mind, intending to minimize the negative impact of the previous publicity as quickly as possible.

Whitewashing essentially involves creating a likable public persona and works. This persona can be a warm man, quirky, a foodie, or a fashionista. With the right approach, they can subtly erase much of the previous negative impression, especially with the bonus of good works, doubling the effectiveness.

Creating a persona has many methods and isn’t hard; the challenge lies in finding good works. Without works to back up the persona, whitewashing can never be complete. Only excellent roles are the true foundation for an actor to gain a good reputation.

Deng Minru only hoped that the drama version of <Chronicles of Winter> could bring such a positive effect for Han Ze.

In the backstage lounge, while waiting for the press conference to end, Deng Minru thought about various things, occasionally scrolling through her phone to pass the time. Then, twenty minutes before the press conference was to end, she suddenly saw a combination of Han Ze and another female artist’s name—Han Ze + Cui Yanyan—in the real-time scrolling hot search keywords on Weibo!

Deng Minru’s first reaction wasn’t good. When she clicked directly into the search, her screen was filled with marketing accounts’ posts with exploded comments and share reposts—

[99 Entertainment: Han Ze’s late-night rendezvous with Cui Yanyan! Continuous passionate kissing in the underground parking lot! <Chronicles of Winter> hasn’t aired, but the lead actors have already put on a passionate drama! There are many fairy-tale couples in the entertainment industry that fell in love on set, but before sending blessings, netizens want to ask for the opinion of Cui Yanyan’s official boyfriend, Xiao Tianyu… [Video link] [Read full article]]

Deng Minru was initially petrified in front of her phone, then exploded in anger…

Han Ze had never mentioned such a thing to her. Fine, an artist’s private life is their own, but he should have the brains to know what to do and what not to do, or at least where to do it safely!!!

……

Wang Xi had just come out of the shower and cut up a bowl of cucumber slices for a bit of natural beauty treatment when her phone rang. It was Wu Xia.

“Xi Jie, there’s trouble!” As soon as the call connected, the young girl was frantic.

Wang Xi’s heart sank, and she carelessly put the bowl on the table. “Calm down, tell me slowly, what’s happened?”

Wu Xia: “Han Ze and Cui Yanyan were caught kissing passionately in a parking lot. It’s already trending!”

“…” Wang Xi thought something had happened to Ran Lin, but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, the mention of Cui Yanyan tensed her up again.

She was all too familiar with this female artist, so familiar that just hearing her name brought up the words “old hag” she had once seen in Han Ze’s WeChat. Among the women Han Ze had ambiguous relationships with, Cui Yanyan was the least courteous towards her.

“Xi Jie?” Wu Xia said, puzzled by the silence.

Wang Xi snapped back to reality. “What exactly happened?”

Wu Xia explained, “The video is spreading like wildfire, full of people condemning the dog and the bitch. Xiao Tianyu hasn’t responded yet, but he’s definitely wearing the green hat* now. But…”

*Idiom referring to a man has been cheated on by his wife or girlfriend (basically, he’s been cuckold).

Wang Xi: “But what?”

Wu Xia: “The timing of this video’s release is too coincidental. Today is the premiere press conference for the drama version of <Chronicles of Winter>. With the male and female leads caught in a cheating scandal, will anyone still watch this show?”

Wang Xi was silent for a moment, then asked, “Is there any mention of when the video was taken?”

Wu Xia: “The initial whistleblower’s Weibo post said it was two days ago. Xi Jie, do you think someone’s out to get him?”

“I’ll check Weibo to see what’s happening.” Wang Xi didn’t directly answer, only saying, “Since it’s unrelated to Ran Lin, we don’t have to do anything.”

Wu Xia: “Okay.”

Hanging up the phone, Wang Xi looked down at the bowl of fresh cucumber slices, lost in thought.

Many pieces of information jumbled in her mind, and after a lengthy process of recollection and selection, she recalled a sentence once said by Shi Jiuting—

[But now, foreseeing that the drama version will flop, there’s a strategy for flops just as there is for hits. I would rather it tank completely, making it easier for the movie version to shine by comparison and win acclaim.]

It had been just a week since he said that.

Those words were still ringing in her ears.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Midnight Owl Ch87

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 87: Pretending

The collapse of the sky and the earth shrouded the entire Castle Hotel in deep darkness.

A few hotel rooms with their lights on became the only faint glimmers of light in this inky darkness.

In room 1024, Han Buting and Li Xia stood at the window, while Li Zijin stuck his head out to look around, but the battlefield was so dark they could hardly see their hands in front of their faces.

For Han Buting’s team, their luck was really bad today. Coupled with their own coordination issues, they lost two teammates early and entered the “retirement phase” prematurely. They thought the rest of their time would be spent summarizing lessons and passing time, but unexpectedly, the outside world had turned dark.

“What exactly does that team want to find? And, has the stationery battle escalated this much?” Li Zijin, who usually used stationery recklessly, even wanted to rush over and ask them to calm down.

Such destructive stationery—was it just used without blinking an eye?

Did they not consider the feelings of those who were poor in stationery resources?!

“It’s not exactly a ‘battle’.” Li Xia corrected, speaking in his usual gloomy and indifferent tone. “Both times were instant kills.”

Li Zijin was used to it; he would be scared if Li Xia ever became enthusiastic.

“Yeah.” He sighed with some deflation. “There’s always someone better than you.”

Chi Yingxue’s team had instantly killed the excavator team, and then they were instantly killed by the disc team.

If he connected this with the amusement park battle and yesterday’s oil painting incident, he should be applauding the disc team, but he just couldn’t feel happy, even feeling a bit down.

The team that was annihilated had once defeated his own team. Ignoring their clever maneuvers and just based on sheer strength, they weren’t weak, yet they were easily taken down in one move.

If his team had encountered the disc team, would the outcome be any different?

No.

“Captain.” Li Zijin looked towards Han Buting, who had been silent. “Do you remember the question you asked me when I first joined the team? You asked what’s the difference between a gaming enthusiast who plays day and night and a professional player?”

“You glared at me and said you didn’t want to explain.” Han Buting not only remembered but also probably guessed what Li Zijin was about to say.

The sky that had collapsed outside slowly rose again. The dark clouds dispersed, and sunlight returned.

The four people on the disc were calm and composed, while the one on the tree branch was leisurely and comfortable.

The pit in the front yard deepened, bottomless, like an eternal black hole.

Li Zijin looked at the deep pit devoid of any figures and quietly said, “This is the difference between amateurs and professionals.”

At the same time, in room 1639.

Also having lost the chance to submit their papers early and also gathered at the window, Wei Menghan, Zou Jun, Feng Rang, and Zhu Mo had one more surviving teammate than Han Buting’s team.

“No chance. They’re not at the same level.” Zou Jun fiddled with the flowers in the vase on the windowsill, arranging them into a fan shape and then into a staggered height pattern, but was never quite satisfied.

Feng Rang was annoyed by his fussing. “Come on, with just those few stems, can you make Cleopatra?”

Wei Menghan stroked his chin and stared unblinkingly at the battlefield that had regained sunlight, muttering in confusion, “If they were instantly killed, why hasn’t the badge’s flash appeared yet?”

From the moment that team appeared, not directly taking action but negotiating with Xu Wang’s team, Wei Menghan guessed their goal wasn’t to submit papers but for the badge.

Zhu Mo opened the window completely, widening his view.

In the cool breeze, his voice carried a light smile. “Teacher Wei, I’m looking forward to the next part of the story.”

By the tree, on the disc.

Messy Haired Chen Guan yawned and closed his [Stationery Box]. He knew there must be eyes watching the battlefield from the surrounding windows, but it didn’t matter. The more people who watch, the better. It was best if they clearly remembered the faces of their five-member team, so in the future, they would walk around them from afar and not end up like the team underground, who took a perfectly good chance to submit their papers and lost it through their own doing.

Wang Duanran vigorously scratched his curly hair, to no avail, and yawned along with Chen Guan, extremely annoyed. “Can’t you sleep properly during the day? Yawning is contagious.”

“You could have let me take action earlier, and it would have been over.” Chen Guan wiped the moisture from the corner of his eye from the yawn, grumbling, “The longer it takes, the sleepier I get.”

“At first glance, they look like rookies. Our goals don’t conflict, so there’s no fun in bullying them too harshly,” Wang Duanran said.

Chen Guan lazily raised his eyebrows. “Then why did you change your mind?”

Wang Duanran tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Cute rookies are those who know their place.”

Kong Lizhe, who had been lying down and playing on his phone, laughed at this. He continued tapping on his phone while saying, “You only act tough with rookies. When we met Fan Peiyang last time, why didn’t you let us fight?”

Wang Duanran narrowed his eyes, glancing over lightly. “You don’t want a new phone anymore, right?”

Kong Lizhe immediately shut up, as quiet as a passerby.

“Money is the root of all evil.” Gu Nian picked up the book he had been forced to put down due to the darkness and started reading again.

Kong Lizhe’s hand slipped, causing the character on his phone screen to lose all its health. Just as he was about to take his anger out on Gu Nian, something suddenly flashed through his mind.

He maintained the posture of holding his phone and closed his eyes in confusion, probing for a certain sensation…

A few seconds later.

“The pause button is still effective,” Kong Lizhe opened his eyes and said solemnly.

Jiang Dachuan, who had just stood up to start searching for the flash again, stopped in his tracks, leaning on his sore back, and looked over in disbelief. “What did you say?”

Chen Guan and Wang Duanran also looked towards Kong Lizhe.

The illusory stationery still affecting the other party indicated that the affected party hadn’t been ejected back to reality.

Everyone understood this logic, and that’s why it was incredible.

Kong Lizhe was also surprised, but as the user of [(Offense) The Collapse of Heaven and Earth], the sensation transmitted by the stationery was irrefutable. “They are still here.”

Chen Guan narrowed his eyes, his drowsy pupils shining brightly for the first time that night. “Where?”

Kong Lizhe said, “Inside the ‘earth collapse’.”

Plop.

Sounds like bubbles echoed from the bottomless pit.

At first, it was a distant, faint sound.

Then—

Plop plop.

Plop Plop Plop.

Splash.

Plop plop plop…

The five people watched as water slowly rose from the bottom of the pit, turning the deep hole into a small puddle, then a larger one, until the water level was even with the edge of the huge pit!

All this happened in an instant. The hotel’s front hall turned into a vast ocean!

“Splash, splash, splash—”

The sound of water breaking approached from a distance, like a small motorboat was moving through water.

The five people looked towards the sound and saw a familiar group of people wading through the water!

The two teams at the window were equally stunned—

1024, Han Buting: “Turning the pit into a sea and then surfacing. That’s a neat trick.”

1639, Wei Menghan: “To choose the right tool for escape in the midst of [The Collapse of Heaven and Earth] shows remarkable calmness.”

1024: “……”

1639: “……”

1024 and 1639: “Can’t they just use a rowboat properly?!”

On the “sea level”, Xu Wang’s small team made a triumphant return, walking on water with different tools!

Xu Wang, using a gourd as a boat and an iron staff as a paddle—simple and reliable!

Wu Sheng, using a long sword as a boat, glided on the water surface—as graceful as an immortal!

Kuang Jinxin, sitting in a flower basket, bravely moved forward—full of childlike innocence!

Chi Yingxue, standing on a flute, was gracefully floating. As the water entered the flute, it created ancient melodies!

Qian Ai, riding a donkey backwards, content, occasionally splashing as the waves rose!

The group stopped about ten meters away from the tree. The sea surface instantly became calm, reflecting the ancient castle.

“Thankfully, [The Collapse of Heaven and Earth] is a one-time use tool.” Xu Wang hugged his gourd, looking up with lingering fear. “And thank you for underestimating us and not using a second move.”

Chen Guan brushed his messy hair from his forehead, as if to clear his vision, and after observing for two seconds, he slightly raised his voice. “[(Offense) The Sea is Full of Water]?”

Xu Wang nodded. “Worthy of a team that has been on the leaderboard.”

This remark surprised the four on the disc and the one on the tree.

Even Gu Nian put down his book to glance down at the “newbies”, and upon seeing their “nautical tools”, he was so thunderstruck that he forgot the shock of his identity being recognized a second ago.

“Chen Guan, Gu Nian, Jiang Dachuan, Kong Lizhe, Wang Duanran.” Wu Sheng stood on the long sword, repeating a string of names from his memory. “I hope you haven’t changed members recently in the past fifty days. It’s still the strongest lineup,” Xu Wang sincerely said. “Otherwise, our victory wouldn’t be honorable.”

Wang Duanran laughed at this, feeling a particularly comical sense, and just as he was about to instruct Chen Guan, the latter preempted him. “Leave it to me.”

Wang Duanran said, “I know, what I meant was…”

“No need to pay extra,” Chen Guan interrupted again, his gaze fixed on Xu Wang, no longer lazy. “Not only no extra charge, I’ll give you a free pass for tonight’s work.”

Wang Duanran frowned. “Conditions?”

There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

Chen Guan repeated. “Leave them to me. No one else gets involved.”

Wang Duanran: “……”

There’s no free lunch in this world, unless Chen Guan is angry.

“Is the ‘Pause Button’ yours?” Xu Wang asked, but discreetly deactivated a stationery.

Kong Lizhe glanced down at him. “Mine, any objections?”

Xu Wang looked at him earnestly. “Then you must protect yourself well. Don’t let the illusory stationery lose its effect.”

Kong Lizhe: “……”

“At least, until we get the badge.” Xu Wang smiled and nodded sincerely. “Please!”

Kong Lizhe took a deep breath, restraining the urge to crush his phone, and slowly looked towards Chen Guan. “If you don’t act now, we can’t be friends anymore.”

Chen Guan was already itching to jump into a physical fight, but he asked one last question. “What stationery?”

With those words, Captain Xu understood immediately. “[(Defense) Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea*].”

*Ground of legendary immortals in Chinese mythology. One of the tales about time, which has art depicting this, is about them crossing the sea to attend the Conference of the Magical Peach.

Chen Guan: “……”

Xu Wang: “Surprised? Sadly, we only have five people, so we couldn’t use all the crossing tools…”

[Owl: Someone used [(Offense) Wrath of Poseidon] on you~~]

That was Chen Guan’s response.

On the mirror-like sea surface, suddenly huge waves arose!

All five companions, regardless of their tools, were equally thrown into the sea!

The salty sea water blocked their senses, and after struggling for nearly ten seconds, they were lifted out of the sea by their tools!

But another giant wave was fast approaching!

The tool Xu Wang had deactivated earlier finally found the perfect moment to activate—

[Owl: Someone used [(Offense) Frozen for Thousands of Miles] on you~~]

He knew the open sea wasn’t safe!

In an instant, extreme cold spread throughout the entire water area, and the approaching giant wave instantly froze in mid-air. The water surface below the five, along with their impressive watercraft, was also frozen in ice!

“Xiao Kuang—” Amidst the frozen expanse, Xu Wang called out loudly.

Kuang Jinxin didn’t hesitate and immediately activated a defense stationery!

[Owl: Someone used [(Defense) Balloon House] on you~~]

The moment the alert sounded, a small wooden house tied to a giant hydrogen balloon appeared above the heads of the five companions. They jumped up, climbed onto the house, and the balloon swiftly rose, lifting them to the same height as the disc, transitioning from “naval battle” to “aerial combat” seamlessly!

However, in room 1639, Zou Jun and Feng Rang were slapping the windowsill in frustration, as if they had made the blunder themselves. “Damn, isn’t this just asking for trouble!”

At least [Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea] allows for flexible movement and quick dispersal, but gathering in a fragile balloon house and flying so high? They’re just waiting to be easy targets, ready to be wiped out in one fell swoop!

The moment the balloon house appeared, Chen Guan couldn’t help but laugh, leisurely waiting until the balloon house reached a fatal height before unleashing his deadly stationery.

[Owl: Someone used [(Offense) A Thousand Arrows Released] on you~~]

Just as Xu Wang and his team breathed a sigh of relief, countless arrows flew towards them from the sky!

“Quick, dodge!” Qian Ai shouted.

Kuang Jinxin was even more anxious. “I know!”

He closed his eyes, concentrating hard, and moved the balloon house as quickly as possible.

In the nick of time, the hydrogen balloon barely moved away, with the closest arrowheads almost grazing its edge!

But before the companions could relax, they suddenly heard a noise from behind.

Turning around, they found that the missed arrows had circled back towards them!

This time, there was no escape.

All the arrows pierced the hydrogen balloon, and some even thunked into the wooden house!

The hydrogen balloon exploded with a “bang”, and the wooden house plummeted at a high speed!

Qian Ai panicked. “Below us is ice!!!”

Xu Wang, of course, knew, and at the last moment, he deactivated [(Offense) Frozen for Thousands of Miles]!

“Splash—”

The balloon house fell heavily into the water, causing a huge splash!

But before the first wave could settle, the entire surface of the water froze again into thick ice!

The world was suddenly silent.

“It’s not only you who have [Frozen for Thousands of Miles],'” Chen Guan sighed towards the bright ice surface, turned to look at the mere spectators, Kong Lizhe and Gu Nian, and frowned slightly. “I think I overestimated them.”

Gu Nian remained non-committal.

Kong Lizhe closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Sorry, the pause button is still active.”

Chen Guan was stunned. “……”

Kong Lizhe closed and then reopened his eyes. “I now understand the magic mirror’s feelings in ‘Snow White’.”

Gu Nian sighed softly. “Repeatedly telling the queen that she’s not the most beautiful—it is indeed quite cruel.”

Chen Guan’s face darkened on one side. “Hey—”

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Mirage] on you~~]

The sudden prompt in their ears made the four on the disc freeze, instinctively turning around.

Jiang Dachuan, who was watching the battle from the tree, was also astonished, obviously hearing the prompt too.

This illusory tool affected all five of them.

But why [Mirage]?

When Kong Lizhe mentioned that “Pause Button” was still effective, Chen Guan immediately prepared to face those guys breaking out of the ice.

Can [Mirage] break the ice?

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Scuttle the Boats*] on you~~]

*(破釜沉舟) Idiom referring to leaving no escape route and acting decisively. This comes from the Battle of Julu, where Xiang Yu ordered his men to sink their boats and destroy all but three days’ worth of rations in order to force his men to choose between prevailing against overwhelming odds within three days, or die trapped before the walls of the city with no supplies or any hope of escape.

Wang Duanran and the rest looked at each other in confusion. Like [Mirage], [Scuttle the Boats] was a stationery they had never possessed. Predicting the exact use of new stationery wasn’t easy, especially since some stationery’s names were misleading!

Another important question was, where exactly were those guys hiding!

Before they could clear their doubts, Chen Guan suddenly slapped the disc hard! The sound of his hand hitting the porcelain was deafening, obviously hitting with full force!

“What are you doing?” Wang Duanran was baffled.

Before Chen Guan could answer, Kong Lizhe also slammed his phone onto the disc!

The porcelain cracked, and the phone screen shattered!

“Damn, I just bought it a week ago!” Kong Lizhe was breathless with distress.

Wang Duanran was about to explode with anger when their disc suddenly plummeted at high speed!

“Gu Nian?!” Wang Duanran was shocked. The disc was controlled by Gu Nian, who never joked around.

“The illusory stationery is controlling my mind…” Gu Nian furrowed his brow, calmly stating, “It wants the disc to crash.”

Wang Duanran: “……”

Chen Guan: “……”

Kong Lizhe: “……”

Jiang Dachuan: “……”

[Scuttle the Boats]—destroying the caldrons and sinking the boats*, leaving no way out, a do-or-die battle.

*Note: This is reflecting Xiang Yu’s action of destroying their food supply and the boats (as explained above).

But they didn’t intend to smash the disc for a do-or-die battle. Was there a misunderstanding in the stationery’s interpretation of its own meaning?

At this moment, no one cared about Chen Guan’s statement of “leaving it to himself”. Jiang Dachuan immediately took action—[(Defense) Soft Landing]!

The defense stationery finally activated just before the disc hit the ground.

The disc landed on a cushioned layer, wobbling and then stabilizing.

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Resurrection Cycle*] on you~~]

*(周而复生) Idiom referring to going around and around in an endless cycle.

The timing of the stationery’s prompt was impeccable.

If they couldn’t recognize by now that those guys were hiding in the dark, then they were indeed naive.

But the immediate concern was, first, where were they? Second, what exactly was [Resurrection Cycle]?

Why were all their stationery named after four-character idioms?

“Slap—”

“Bang—”

Chen Guan slapped the disc hard again!

Kong Lizhe picked up the remnants of his phone, mercilessly smashing it a second time. The cracks in the disc were becoming significantly more apparent!

Gu Nian realized. “This illusory stationery makes a person repeat their previous action.”

Wang Duanran immediately looked up at the tree. “Dachuan, break the illusion!”

Jiang Dachuan couldn’t leave the tree in case they were ambushed, but he was ready to act decisively—

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Awakening from a Dream*] on you~~]

*One sentence awakens you from a dream (一语惊醒梦中人) Idiom referring to a simple or brief remark can provide enlightenment, especially if one was confused or unaware before.

The effects of [Scuttle the Boats] and [Resurrection Cycle] disappeared simultaneously. Chen Guan’s palm was already bruised, and Kong Lizhe’s phone was now just debris, painful to even look at.

In mid-air, behind the original position of the hovering disc, a perfectly intact balloon house slowly appeared.

The mirage also broke.

Chen Guan finally understood. The one bombarded with arrows, plunged into the deep sea, trapped in miles of ice, were all but illusions.

“Sorry.” Captain Xu’s head finally popped out of the crack in the door of the small wooden house, where no one could be seen. “For wasting your [A Thousand Arrows Released] and [Frozen for Thousands of Miles].”

Chen Guan hadn’t been this angry in a long time.

And his anger was something Wang Duan, Gu Nian, and Kong Lizhe could clearly feel—when the usually talkative Chen Guan became quiet, he was unhappy. If he fell completely silent, he was thoroughly enraged.

As teammates, they didn’t really want to provoke Chen Guan at this time.

However, those in the balloon house continued to pour fuel on the fire beautifully—

[Owl: Someone has used [(Offense) Misery and Destruction*] on you~~]

*(生灵涂炭) Idiom referring to a situation where people are suffering immensely.

The ground beneath the four on the ice turned into a swamp in an instant. The mud bound their feet like chains. At the same time, flames erupted on the ice surface!

Chen Guan deactivated [Frozen for Thousands of Miles], and in the moment the swamp and flames were swallowed by the sea, he activated [(Defense) Paper Airplane]. A huge origami airplane swept across the sky, picking up the four and taking them back to high altitude.

So high that the little wooden house below was just a speck.

“They want to delay time.” Kong Lizhe hit the nail on the head. “Delay until the ‘pause button’ expires, and they win.”

Wang Duan: “They still want to get the badge.”

Kong Lizhe: “Hah, you believe them? How will they get it? Just blindly stacking up stationery?”

Gu Nian: “Quite an interesting team.”

Chen Guan: “What do you mean?”

Gu Nian: “What were the last three stationery items they used?”

“[Scuttle the Boats], [Resurrection Cycle], [Misery and Destruction]?” Wang Duan replied uncertainly, then suddenly understood—every curly hair on his head turned into a black line. “They must be crazy…”

Facing a team that plays idiom charades with stationery, their feelings were complex that it was difficult to describe.

……

Room 1639, by the window.

Zhu Mo: “What exactly are they waiting for?”

Zou Jun: “Ah? Aren’t they struggling hard?”

Zhu Mo: “Those stationery items can’t truly be decisive in victory. They should be clear about that.”

Feng Rang: “They want to drag it out until the illusory stationery expires. An illusory stationery that can pause the submission won’t last too long.”

Zhu Mo: “I always feel there’s something else…”

Wei Menghan: “Hasn’t anyone reflected on the [Mirage]?”

Zou Jun: “They used the [Mirage] to make the balloon house disappear?”

Wei Menghan: “Isn’t it obvious?”

Note 1: Mirage, illusory. Can hide oneself and create visual illusions in front of the enemy. However, all contents of the illusion are live broadcasts of the actual situation hidden in the dark.

Note 2: Teacher Wei’s team once used this stationery in a certain level. Due to their poor acting skills, they were seen through by the opponent.

Teacher Wei’s rhetorical question made the atmosphere in Room 1639 subtly heavy.

The four people replayed the scene of Xu Wang’s small team using [Mirage] in their minds—

As the arrows flew, Qian Ai shouted desperately to dodge, his voice strained and changed.

Kuang Jinxin, controlling the [Balloon House], responded eagerly, “I know,” every drop of sweat on his forehead seething with anxiety.

The balloon house was pierced and started falling. Qian Ai, terrified, shouted that below was ice.

The wooden house hit the water, and the last frame had five faces of despair.

End of review.

Four companions: “……”

A drama king is indeed a form of strength, so yesterday they also acted against each other, deceiving each other on the task line.

But—they didn’t need to burn their lives for their acting skills!


The author has something to say:

There’s actually three choices left for [Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea].

[Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea], they actually left three choices for Qian, which were the Lotus (He Xiangu), the Jade Tablet (Cao Guojiu), and the Donkey (Zhang Guolao). Then, I chose the one that best suited Qian’s temperament… (~ ̄▽ ̄)~


Kinky Thoughts:

And Best Actor(s) goes to…


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Midnight Owl Ch86

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 86: Disc

As the tree leaves rustled gently again, Xu Wang knew that the love line had reached a satisfying conclusion.

Sure enough, a playful congratulation rode on the light breeze—

[Owl: Congratulations on passing the 6/23 test!]

Among the five companions, Xu Wang anticipated this, and Qian Ai was pleasantly surprised by the notification. But no matter who, they all let out a sigh of relief in unison. However, their relief was cut short by the abrupt end of the message.

Successfully submitted?

What about the paper? And the usual “See you tomorrow~~”?

Everyone instinctively looked at their teammates, then realized that they were not alone in their confusion.

Had they really submitted? They shouldn’t have. Otherwise, they would be back in reality by now. But why wouldn’t it count as having been submitted? They had clearly completed the task line!

“Stationery.” Chi Yingxue, or rather, his sharp combat intuition, was the first to react.

As if to confirm his words, a belated attack notification lazily arrived—

[Owl: Someone used [(Illusory) Pause Button] on you~~]

A huge shadow, along with the notification, descended.

The five took a few steps back and looked up to see a flying disc hovering above the tree, carrying five people.

The disc resembled a shallow white porcelain plate used for serving dishes but was enlarged dozens of times. The five co-travelers on it were either sitting cross-legged or half-lying, treating it as their own sofa, relaxed and comfortable.

The moment Xu Wang saw the disc, he naturally concluded that the illusory stationery was theirs. But seeing the lazy postures of the people on the disc, he hesitated. This wasn’t a posture preparing for battle.

“We’re not here to interfere with your task or submission, so don’t be so tense.” The first to speak from the disc was the most relaxed looking among them, a man in his late twenties with messy hair, looking as if he had just woken up. He yawned while speaking, half-lying there, not at all looking like the one in charge of communication.

Xu Wang thought that perhaps this person was just pulled in to fill in last minute. Otherwise, it was hard to explain such an antagonistic opening.

At least he, the “communicated party”, felt no respect at all.

“You’re thinking too much. We’re not tense.” Xu Wang looked at him calmly, his face unflinching. “As for whether we’ll be angry, that depends on your explanation.”

This response was somewhat confrontational, but the people in the disc seemed not to notice, casually glanced at their companions, and then back at them, offering an even more casual explanation. “Looking for something.”

Combining this with the previous “We’re not doing tasks or submitting,” Xu Wang guessed they meant, “We’re looking for something, and once we find it, we’ll cancel the illusory stationery, and you can continue with your submission.” But the way it was delivered was minimalistic, both in expression and tone, utterly perfunctory.

The disc suddenly descended to a position just touching the treetop.

The teammate, who was just casually glanced at, instantly switched from lazy to active, picking a thicker branch to land on, and then began to search the branches with focused attention.

They were indeed searching for something.

Xu Wang pursed his lips, realizing that they weren’t looking for trouble with them—no, more accurately, they were too lazy to bother with them.

From beginning to end, the other party remained as relaxed as if they were on a spring outing, not because their goals didn’t conflict. In fact, even if their goals didn’t conflict, they might still cause trouble that harms others without benefiting themselves. The root of their composure and ease was that their own team wasn’t even worth the attention of the others; the others didn’t even bother to lie or be on guard.

“Please tell me that the humiliation of being looked down upon just now was an illusion,” Qian Ai said, looking at the five uninvited guests above, his chest heaving slightly.

Xu Wang sighed. “I can’t promise that as captain.”

“What exactly are they looking for?” Kuang Jinxin was puzzled. “There’s only the epiphyte flower on the tree, but they don’t even seem to look at it.”

“It’s definitely unrelated to the task line.” Wu Sheng narrowed his eyes, his gaze turning sharp. “Otherwise, such a big move would have triggered a plot by now.”

“Maybe they’re just looking in the wrong place, or the plot is about peacefully searching.” With one foot over the finish line but the other being firmly held back, Qian Ai was in agony.

“Badges.” Chi Yingxue spoke in a low voice, not out of fear of being overheard but as if deliberately suppressing some emotion. “They are looking for badges.”

The four companions were stunned. Xu Wang was the first to reveal his hidden stationery box, showing the [Moonlight Labyrinth Badge] to Chi Yingxue. “This one?”

“Yes,” Chi Yingxue responded softly, then noticed that Xu Wang’s hidden item column had only one icon.

He immediately understood the information progression of the new team from this empty interface. Without waiting to be asked, he explained, “Each level has several hidden badges scattered in different corners. Finding one is enough.”

“Find?” Xu Wang was surprised. “Aren’t badges rewards for breaking records in a single level?”

Chi Yingxue explained, “That’s just relying on luck. Generally, teams search for them within the levels.”

Xu Wang: “How do you find them?”

Chi Yingxue: “Places with badges will emit a faint light at irregular intervals. Teams focused on finding them can spot it.”

Wu Sheng asked, “What happens if all are found?”

“Not sure.” Chi Yingxue tilted his head, finally fishing out some information from his intermittent memories. “Seems to be related to the levels after 13/23.”

After 13/23?! 

For Xu Wang and the others, this was a huge shock.

Mao Qiping had mentioned that the best-performing team had only reached the thirteenth level, and the only time the speed of submission leaderboard was opened, the record was 12/23. This implied that no one had submitted past 13/23, corroborating Mao Qiping’s statement.

So how could these people, who had never broken through 13/23, claim that badges were related to later levels?

Or did they receive secret hints from the [Cheat Sheet]?

Four pairs of eyes focused intently on Chi Yingxue.

Chi Yingxue, uncomfortable with such intense scrutiny, clarified immediately, “That’s all I know. If you don’t believe me, you can interrogate me with an illusory stationery.”

Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, Qian Ai, Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Interrogating a priest, torturing oneself for answers… Why does every suggestion from the new teammate sound like a villain’s plan?!

“Do you want them?” Chi Yingxue suddenly asked.

The four companions were stunned, not understanding at first.

“Although I’m not sure of the exact use of the badges, they must be useful.” Chi Yingxue leaned slightly forward, closer to his four teammates. His voice and the corners of his mouth rose slightly. The suppressed emotion in his eyes showed a dark, expectant light. “If you want them, I can help you snatch them.”

His voice was very gentle, like a devil luring the good.

Xu Wang asked, “Do you have the badge for this level?”

Chi Yingxue paused, then shook his head. “No.”

Qian Ai was speechless. “Then this is called ‘let’s rob them together’, understand?”

“……” Chi Yingxue didn’t understand why these people were so fixated on “us” versus “them”. Was it important?

“You just want an excuse to fight, right?” Xu Wang raised his eyebrows at him. “You want to flip that disc and wipe out those people.”

Chi Yingxue was taken aback, genuinely surprised this time.

Kuang Jinxin looked at him, sighed, and shook his head. “Your murderous intent is too recognizable.”

Qian Ai glanced at him. “You get excited at the thought of a fight. I’ve figured out the pattern.”

Xu Wang patted his shoulder, showing a trusting smile. “Your request is approved.”

Turning around, Xu Wang asked Wu Sheng, “How much longer can you hold on?”

Advisor Wu shrugged. “Until you win.”

Chi Yingxue saw a clue in this “everything is under control” demeanor. “Are you using stationery?”

No wonder the other party has found nothing so far.

In fact, once the range was locked, the badge wouldn’t be too difficult to find. Just now, when they were eager to fight, he was worried that the other party would succeed before they even started.

“They want to find something, so they use illusory stationery against us to stop us from submitting our papers.” Wu Sheng looked up at the busy figure in the tree. “A defense stationery in return is not too much.”

Chi Yingxue was puzzled. “Didn’t he hear the alert for the defense stationery?”

Wu Sheng said, “Of course, it’s for the one in the tree, [(Defense) Nothing At All*].”

*(一无所有) Idiom referring to having nothing (assets, money, achievements, knowledge).

Chi Yingxue: “……”

Tactics should be left to the meticulous.

“Have you guys finally decided how to fight?” Messy Hair was lying at the edge of the plate with his hands propping up his face which was full of impatience. “You’ve thrown away a defense stationery. What else is there to dawdle about?”

The five companions were momentarily stunned.

There was both a horizontal distance and a vertical height between them, and such low whispering, like a mosquito’s buzz, could not possibly have been heard. How did Messy Hair know about the defense stationery?

While they were confused, a green sticky note suddenly flew up from the grass under the feet of the five, completely blending with the green of the grass, fluttering back into the plate, into the hands of a the curly-haired youth.

“[(Defense) Eavesdropping Sticky Notes],” Messy Hair announced the answer, sitting up leisurely and smiling. “One must always be wary of others.”

“Dachuan, stop searching.” Curly Hair had just collected the sticky note, reminded his teammate in the treetop. “They’re wearing defense stationery.”

Jiang Dachuan, tired and sore, became angry when he heard this. “Who the hell is making trouble for no reason!”

Wang Duanran—Curly Hair—nodded towards the opposite side. “The most handsome one.”

Jiang Dachuan looked down angrily, locking eyes with Wu Sheng. “Are you full and idle? In a hurry to go home?”

Wu Sheng: “……”

Xu Wang, Qian Ai, Chi Yingxue, and Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Qian Ai: “This way of recognizing people…”

“Is there a problem?” Curly Hair looked unhappy at being questioned, pointing at Wu Sheng “The most handsome”, pointing at Chi Yingxue, “The most beautiful”, pointing at Kuang Jinxin, “The cutest”, pointing at Xu Wang, “The most cunning”, pointing at Qian Ai, “The strongest”.

“Very convenient,” he concluded.

“…” Five silent companions had two completely different moods.

Jiang Dachuan sat on the tree branch and stopped working, urging his teammate on the disc. “Quick battle, quick victory.”

Chen Guan—Messy Hair—stretched lazily and sat up straight. Wang Duanran didn’t move, but his gaze was on Xu Wang and his group. As for the other two, they looked at the sky and enjoyed the breeze, not lifting an eyelid.

Xu Wang swallowed and tensed up subconsciously, feeling the “difference in level” for the first time.

It was an intuition honed from dealing with danger in nearly fifty days of battling in the “Owl”.

“Boom!”

A sound like mountains collapsing and the earth splitting open exploded above their heads!

In an instant, the whole sky turned black at a visible speed, accompanied by huge falling rocks!

The only lawn under their feet also started to shake violently and cracked!

Chi Yingxue summoned the magic bean, and its leaves quickly lifted all five of them into the air!

Just as they took off, the only lawn collapsed, leaving only a small circle as thick as a tree trunk, barely keeping the tree!

This series of events happened in just a few seconds that Xu Wang and the others didn’t even see who used the stationery!

[Owl: Someone used [(Offense) The Collapse of Heaven and Earth] on you~~]

The announcement finally came.

The familiar name made the five of them stunned; they had just used this stationery to get rid of a team, and now the retribution came so fast!

The last bit of light disappeared, and the sky turned completely dark, as if dyed with ink.

In the darkness, where no one could see each other, Chi Yingxue’s voice suddenly rang out. “Not right.”

Xu Wang quickly asked, “What’s not right?”

Chi Yingxue: “With [The Collapse of Heaven and Earth] how can the [Magic Bean] take root?”

Xu Wang: “……”

Wu Sheng: “……”

Qian Ai: “……”

Kuang Jinxin: “……”

The leaves under their feet suddenly lost their support, and the five companions, along with the [Magic Bean], fell into the dark abyss!


The author has something to say:

Every time I write about a battle, I get excited. Am I possessed by Chi Yingxue?…_(:з」∠)_


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Full Server First Kill Ch130

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 130: A New Crisis

As he gathered his breath, Nol took a detailed look at his attribute window after a long absence—

[Demon King[?] – Lv.105]

[HP: 100/100 [Permanently Locked] | MP: 100/100 [Permanently Locked]]

[Strength: 89,327 [-99.35%] | Agility: 42,361 [-99.35%] | Intelligence: 562,610 [+260%] | Physical Defense: 70,884 [-99.35%] | Magic Defense: 107,964 [-99.35%]]

[Status: Curse “Physical Destruction [Indissoluble]” permanently effective; “Staff of Sacrifice” is in effect; “Guardian Oath” skill is in effect; Transcendence of the Law[?]]

Nol took a loud, deep breath.

He finally made it through.

Aside from the intelligence that wasn’t diminished by the curse, which was absurdly high, and his permanently locked health and mana, his other attributes were nearly identical to those of a prime young dragon—balancing strengths and weaknesses, his panel was on par with, if not superior to, the dragon leader Subelbot.

At the same time, he truly realized how merciful those three compatriots had been… even in their delirious and weakened state. If they had fought this battle with a full intent to kill, the chances of him and Teest winning were slim to none.

Nol sighed, leaning his head back against Teest’s bare chest. The latter blinked and also brought up his own attribute window.

[Doom Knight[?] – Lv.105]

[HP: 6,890,051/6,890,051 | MP: 415,213/415,213]

[Strength: 92,215 [+30%] | Agility: 82,667 [+30%] | Intelligence: 18,816 [+30%] | Physical Defense: 185,643 [+30%] | Magic Defense: 80,546 [+30%]]

[Status: Curse “God’s Forsaken [Indissoluble]” permanently effective; “Betrayal Overture” skill is in effect; Transcendence of the Law[?]]

Nol tensed up. “Your name…?”

“Gone, as you can see.” Teest’s arms wrapped around Nol’s waist. “Congratulate me, honey. The system has marked me as a ‘monster’. I’m completely yours now.”

Nol’s gaze lingered on the “?” provided by the system for a few seconds. Indeed, it offered no additional explanation. Previously, he thought the question mark in his “Dracolich[?]” title was due to his unique personal situation. Now Teest had become the same…

His fingertips brushed over the words “Transcendence of the Law” in the status bar.

Kando had said, the system is the absolute law of this world, and even the so-called gods must yield a bit. Now that they both had obtained professions not existing within the system, that inexplicable “god-like” pressure might be related to this status.

A pressure similar to that of the gods…

Thinking of this, Nol suddenly realized something. He quickly fiddled with the skill bar, finding that one skill that had never been activated—

[Breath of a False God: You possess the authority above all beings, invoking the innate fear of all species.]

It was somehow activated. The original note “Your power has not reached the standard. This skill is a weakened version adapted to you.” had disappeared without a trace.

Nol: “……”

He tentatively used the skill, and sure enough, that peculiar pressure could be turned on and off.

“How did you do it?” Teest tightened his grip in surprise when he noticed Nol’s pressure dissipated instantaneously.

“…It’s a long story,” Nol said dryly. “How about you? How do you control it?”

“Controlling technique is similar to controlling killing intent.” Teest shrugged. “And my aura isn’t as strong as yours.”

Nol grunted twice, deciding to swallow back the words, “It seems we’ve turned into some sort of strange False Gods.” After all, he didn’t yet know what the system defined “False God” and “God” as.

He turned around, deciding to change the subject. “The [Breath of a False God] has leveled up. I just turned it off. What about you? Does the Doom Knight have any special moves?”

“It’s rare for you to ask me.” Teest took the opportunity to bite Nol’s earlobe with considerable force. “I’ve retained all the Death Knight’s skills. There’s only one more… um, I don’t know if it’s magic—the system didn’t explain at all.”

Nol forgot to rub his ear, staring intently at Teest.

The latter stretched out his hand, and thick darkness oozed from his skin, climbing and entwining along his fingers. It emitted a rich scent of decay, and the temperature slowly dropped.

The Demon King’s corruption.

…Wasn’t it supposed to have disappeared?

“I’m as surprised as you are. Let’s talk while getting dressed.”

With one hand playing with the corruption and the other taking out two sets of new clothes—including the succubus costume and “Drake’s” specific outfit—placing them on the sandy ground.

Nol nodded seriously, then casually made a gesture to remove the soundproof spell near the backpack. He fumbled in the bag for a bit, pulling out the candle, which was in perfect condition yet rolling its eyes.

“I’m blind.” Seeing the two undressed, it sent a friendly greeting. “Fuck, I knew this day would come. Tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk.”

“You can close your eyes. Just listen to what’s next,” Nol responded just as kindly.

Kando looked at them warily, its gaze as if looking at a pervert.

“I mean, the origin of this thing.”

Nol helplessly pulled Teest’s hand over, showing the corruption to Kando, whose eyes quickly squinted. Its tears crinkled into a ball, as if its eyes were stung by the stench of a foul-smelling toilet.

“I might as well listen,” it said reluctantly.

Five minutes passed.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Kando said with disdain.

Nol resisted the urge to pinch its tears. “How so?”

“From what you’ve described, the system has assimilated the authority of the Demon King. The system’s power has strengthened, but the unique power traits of that Demon King have disappeared. It’s like how pigs eat wheat, but what grows is pork, not wheat on their bodies.”

Kando sneered coldly. “That Demon King’s traits were very precious. Before reclaiming its authority, the system allowed that kid to steal a bit of the loop, as a way to keep a sample… The system has found a successor for the ‘Power of Destruction’.”

“Why me?” Teest raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t the system prefer its own dear dad?”

“Because that one has already become a pig and planting it in the ground won’t turn it into wheat.” Kando glanced quickly at Nol.

A vein throbbed on Nol’s forehead.

The black candle had been “soundproofed” for most of the night, and it clearly had a lot of grievances saved up, so its mouth was even fouler than before.

“You don’t seem too surprised about these things.” Facing a friendly party, Nol still chose to be tolerant. “Your erudition surprises me more and more.”

Kando averted its gaze. “Can’t help it. Who made it my mission to assist you?”

After saying this, it flicked its tears, quickly crawled back into the backpack, and even considerately pulled the drawstring closed. As soon as the topic deepened, it would slip away. This guy was really cautious in situations that might “breach the contract”.

Nol watched the bulging backpack, both annoyed and amused.

…Although Kando spoke unpleasantly and obscurely, the ideas it provides are indeed very interesting. Nol couldn’t really muster any hostility towards this creature that was like a foul-mouthed college roommate.

…He just hoped that the “mysterious existence” he was dealing with and the four eyeballs in the sky had nothing to do with each other.

Nol fastened the last button of his cloak and brushed off the fine white sand.

“Let’s go, Teest.” He hesitated for two seconds, but still bent down and kissed the top of the knight’s hair. “It’s time to meet up.”

……

Not long ago, at a nearby elite group camp.

Eugene didn’t see those four eyes.

When the anomaly appeared, the pressure was terrifyingly strong, comparable to the divine might projected by the Goddess of Life. Eugene, skilled in sacrifice, naturally knew how to handle it at this moment.

One absolutely couldn’t look directly.

If such high-level beings bore no malice, one might barely keep their life after peering. But if they were unbridled, those who were rude could only expect a brutal death.

The moment the corruption disappeared, Eugene kneeled on one knee. He bowed deeply, kissing the ring that bore the holy symbol, praying devoutly to the Supreme Goddess of Life.

He was somewhat surprised by the outcome, but not shocked.

The mysterious origin of Drake aside, Painter was lured here from miles away—well-known, this rebellious former Pope who defected was most skilled in purification magic. Had Painter not defected in his prime, he would have been in charge of suppressing the Demon King’s front.

The Goddess guided him here. This meant his destiny must have been arranged.

Near Eugene, Abandon and Solo dared not lift their heads.

They didn’t understand the intricacies of the sacrifice, but the power that was cast down was strong, cold, and full of malice—if one carelessly looked at something dirty, they might get hit with some mysterious negative effect—”instant death” being a possibility.

Since arriving in Tahe, Abandon had never felt such a terrifying pressure. He was like a small animal when a ferocious beast passed by, only able to lie on the ground and play dead, pretending to be nonexistent.

Eugene consciously deployed a protective shield, covering the two Players crouching on the ground. He himself continued to pray with a composed expression.

Abandon glanced at Eugene from the corner of his eye.

It was hard for anyone to truly dislike Knight Eugene, who had never slackened in protecting the Players along the way, and his demeanor was never haughty. If this guy wasn’t a zealot certified by the Temple, Abandon might almost feel a brotherly affection for him.

He tried to observe Eugene’s armor—when the filthy moonlight on that armor disappeared, they could lift their heads again.

In the murky moonlight, the young and handsome knight murmured praise, his voice warm and soothing. It was like some kind of calming magic. As Abandon listened to it, his heartbeat calmed down involuntarily.

This thought lasted from dark until dawn.

As the dawn light shone, the evil moonlight, like miasma, was dispersed by the morning breeze. Without the Demon King’s corruption, Brick Shadow recovered its usual appearance—cold in tone, dark in environment, yet possessing its own kind of withering beauty.

Lying in the mud all night, trembling, Abandon felt as if a road roller had run over his back; the pain almost made him want to scream. Noticing Abandon wriggling in the mud, Eugene ended his prayer, gracefully stood up, and extended his hand towards Abandon.

Abandon felt a sense of tragedy. God knows how Mr. Eugene managed to kneel and pray all night long. Weren’t his legs numb?

Just as he was about to reach for that hand, the notification of [Demon King Subjugation] hit his head.

Abandon’s hand froze, instinctively looking at Solo. Solo looked even more shocked than him. Eugene’s gaze swept between the two, and a smile appeared on his face. “Another ‘server-wide announcement’, or a unified new quest?”

“No worries. You don’t have to tell me. Stand up first.”

Solo had been following Hermitage, and Abandon was a fringe member of the Saints Guild, so neither knew how to deal with the higher-ups of the Temple. They were at a loss for whether to speak or remain silent, which only made the awkward air freeze to the point of solidifying. Until—

“Why are there only a few of you left?” Anakin’s voice came from not far away.

A group of five, not one less. They looked each weak in their own way, but fortunately, all were whole.

“Sister—!” Solo dashed forward. Anakin looked like she wanted to dodge, but in the end, she forcibly stayed in place, catching the family member who threw himself at her.

Abandon quickly glanced at Eugene, seeing that he didn’t intend to speak, he stepped forward. “Uh, everyone suddenly stopped moving earlier, and Hot Ash… I mean, Mr. Hot Ash took the whole group out of Brick Shadow.”

“We stayed here to meet up with you all. That’s about it.”

After saying that, he proudly pulled over the undead knight. “Look! It’s still in good shape, no damage at all!”

“You’ve worked hard. I’ll write it in the mission report.” Anakin nodded.

Abandon clenched his fist, silently making a celebratory gesture. Was this the legendary victory by lying down? The process was thrilling enough… Speaking of the process…

He stole another glance at Eugene, hesitating to speak. “About that Demon King…”

He didn’t receive team experience points. Presumably, it wasn’t Anakin who had taken action, being a healer.

That left only the possibility of the Master of Paradise and his succubus, Fischer from Paradise, and that “Mr. Painter” whom he roughly guessed who it was but refused to think too deeply about.

All were NPCs from Tahe.

Judging by the numbers, was it Paradise that made the move? It seemed quite reasonable, given they were the first organization to issue a server-wide announcement to start a new main quest.

As soon as the keyword was mentioned, Eugene’s gaze shot over like an arrow.

“If it were said to be the doing of This Villain, the mercenary business would be much better, wouldn’t it?” Painter said cheerfully. He shifted slightly, blocking Eugene’s line of sight. “How about Sir Eugene help to promote it?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. If it were you, your oracle wouldn’t be so simple.” Facing the traitor, Eugene’s voice suddenly turned icy.

“Why do you always bring up such disheartening matters?” Painter shook his head.

Eugene’s gaze moved past him, once again looking at the remaining three. His eyes scanned the two Paradise members covered in cloaks, finally settling on “Drake”.

“…Perhaps it was a certain hero who inherited dragon’s blood, fulfilling the legacy of their ancestors,” he implied meaningfully.

Nol faced Eugene’s scrutiny head-on—having formally ascended to Demon King, his attributes could easily overpower Eugene. It’s said that “all fear comes from insufficient firepower”. His confidence now needed no pretense.

“I’ve only preliminarily fulfilled my ancestor’s wish, not yet their legacy.” Nol spoke the truth, emphasizing each word. “After all, new enemies have emerged. I believe you know.”

Eugene smiled faintly. It was hard to tell if he believed or not.

“I see.” He casually changed the subject. “Speaking of which, Paradise is stronger than I imagined.”

The two cloaked figures, tall and short, had never revealed their true faces in front of him. Without the Players’ immortality privilege, their ability to survive the Demon King battle spoke of their strength.

“Thank you for your acknowledgment, all for my Lord.”

Fischer stepped forward, taking the initiative to bow to Eugene, deliberately revealing a bit of siren fine scales on the back of his hand.

The High Priest’s speech lacked the wavering sorrow and confusion of before, sounding effortless. His acting had returned to how Nol first met him.

“Now that everyone has safely returned, we too are relieved.” Eugene stopped there, stepping back twice. “What plans do you have next?”

Anakin sensed the tension in the air and quickly stepped forward. “Haha, now that the corruption is gone, we need to complete the quest.”

“I understand. Then please allow me to go back alone.” Eugene smiled.

……

At the quest’s end.

“Eugene is quite polite, knowing his presence makes everyone uncomfortable.” Abandon gazed at the glittering sea surface.

The sun had fully risen, and the sky was bright and clear. The blue water churned like silk satin, desolate yet beautiful. Abandon almost forgot about the dark red, filthy environment.

Painter glanced at Abandon, showing a look of pity as if listening to a child’s babble. He sighed quietly, saying nothing.

The undead knight slowly walked to the seaside. The foamy sea water covered his metal boots. He still carried that comical umbrella, casting a long shadow.

The quest was about to be completed. As long as it sank into the endless sea, everything would end.

“Wait.” Nol suddenly spoke up.

The undead knight turned around stiffly.

Nol pulled out Kando, immediately creating a rift. His figure disappeared for a moment, and when he reappeared, he had a small ghost by his side.

The ghost appeared very weak, looking like a boy under ten years old. On his semi-transparent head, he wore an oversized crown.

The blue fire in the knight’s eyes shook violently and became much more powerful.

After death, everything would only fade slowly.

Knowing the past of these brothers, Nol made a special trip back to the War King’s dungeon the night before they set off. Using most of his knowledge about undead monsters, he successfully turned the dead giant monster into a ghost.

Similar to the knight’s situation, during the two hundred years of struggle, the War King also lost most of his sanity. His memories were fragmented, with only a tiny, fragile part of his humanity remaining, able to appear only in such a form.

The thin ghost looked up at the knight. After a brief moment of confusion, it smiled, letting go of Nol’s hand—it directly floated towards the knight, flying onto the knight’s shoulder.

It happily sat there, taking the somewhat miniature umbrella from the knight’s hand, shielding against the brilliant sunlight.

The knight turned solemnly, giving Nol an awkward knightly salute. The ghost’s face peeked out from under the umbrella, looking towards the blazing sun.

A few seconds later, it smiled and hugged the knight’s skull. The knight took steady steps, slowly walking towards the depths of the Endless Sea.

The sea gradually swallowed the crimson cloak. It floated on the water surface, first like a bloodstain, then sinking deeper and deeper. In the end, the ghost’s small hand emerged from the sea surface, waving at them.

Sunlight cast fragmented gold on the sea surface.

[You’ve done this too.] Teest poked Nol mentally.

[Being alone isn’t pleasant. They should rest together.] Nol looked towards the calm and vast sea—recently, it had also swallowed his three compatriots.

“It will take some time before the knight is completely sunk.” Painter coughed twice. “Just waiting is not ideal. I have something to say.”

“Please.” Nol anticipated this—they had only paid Painter for the [Ancient Knight’s Last Wish], and incidentally defeated a Demon King; the former Pope probably wanted to renegotiate the payment.

It seemed quite reasonable, Nol was just waiting for the other party to name his price.

Unexpectedly, when Painter spoke again, it was a completely different matter.

“By now, Eugene has definitely reported the situation.” He frowned and shook his finger. “The Temple of Life will surely search extensively for the ‘heroic team’.”

“Have you all thought about how to conceal your identities?”


The author has something to say:

Here we go!!! Starting a new arc, focusing on the gods! (???


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