Full Server First Kill Ch123

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 123: It’s Sleeping

Relying on his strong stats, Teest wandered around the camp.

Normally, he wasn’t the type to seek out danger for no reason. However, after a nighttime walk, he really needed to organize his thoughts—what better place for the Mad Monk than a camp full of lunatics?

Teest stopped beside two people eating air, watching them feed each other nothingness. He should immediately persuade Nol to go back.

Nol was right. Their condition was strange, and the reconnaissance mission was more dangerous than expected. To be honest, before Nol raised the question, Teest hadn’t considered the life or death of his companions—he was Nol’s knight, and his only duty was to protect Nol.

Upon seeing the state of the camp, Teest even planned an escape.

If the Demon King landed, so be it—the world wouldn’t explode in a second. If danger arose, he’d just grab Nol and run. Even if everyone else died here, what did it have to do with him?

Teest had no feud with the Demon King. He just wanted the truth, and the investigation wasn’t urgent. The Mad Monk was always like this, and Nol understood him, right?

No matter how he looked at it, he should decisively retreat. Damn it, why was he hesitating?

The pros and cons were clear, and he never hesitated in decision-making before. Teest never expected Nol to ask for his opinion.

“Save the people and go back” or “save people” and then track the Demon King. Nol gave him considerate options, so even if he wanted to retreat, he wouldn’t have to worry about conflicting with Nol’s principles.

“Ugh…” A tiny groan escaped Teest’s throat. He couldn’t help but step back and stealthily glance at the busy Nol in the camp.

Nol was still in Drake’s disguise, deliberately appearing cold and straightforward. But when he spoke to the Player siblings, a bit of warmth involuntarily showed in his eyes and brows.

Eugene, standing beside them, seemed oblivious. Teest thought disdainfully that the Investigation Knights were about to lose face.

Speaking of which, Nol must still be in pain. His Lord’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his body was somewhat tense. Nol’s movements were never this restricted. Teest knew his body should be more relaxed, his posture more…

“Hi.” A greeting suddenly came from behind Teest.

When had the Mad Monk ever been approached like this? Teest’s scalp tingled, and he instinctively jumped back, landing a few steps away with his waist arched, the “Betrayer” already unsheathed.

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Painter hurriedly raised his hands. “I didn’t expect you to be so focused… It’s just a greeting. Put the knife away!”

Teest raised the small hunting knife higher, his eyes circling around Painter’s throat.

“You might as well skip the threats. We both know you won’t attack me now.” Painter covered his neck, his face full of helplessness.

“That’s hard to say.” Teest raised his mouth corners. “Have you forgotten my nickname?”

“How could I! Your murderous intent is genuine… but I always feel you wouldn’t want to disappoint your Lord,” Painter responded with an infuriatingly pleasing smile.

Teest’s hand holding the knife stiffened slightly.

Painter’s smile deepened, and he sighed softly. “As I understand the Mad Monk, you should be on your way back now, but here you are. Look, a miracle.”

“No choice. I’ve bet my life on it,” Teest replied lightly.

“I see, I see.”

Painter made a somewhat exaggerated bow. “You’re just forced to obey him, not eager to please him. My mistake.”

Teest’s smile disappeared, and he glared at Painter with an unpleasant expression while his small hunting knife dug between his slender fingers.

The former Pope’s expression changed, and he suddenly bowed towards Teest’s back. “My apologies, Master of Paradise. Did you hear all that? I had no intention of speaking out of turn—”

Teest quickly turned back—where was Nol? Nol was still at his original spot, talking to the Player siblings. When he turned back, Mr. Painter had already run off.

…Godfrey Painter, truly a detestable person.

Teest irritably put away his knife. The two mad Players beside him had finished their air meal and were now gazing into each other’s eyes. Annoyed, Teest turned towards the base.

Indeed, investigating the Demon King’s situation sooner could save more people. Nol had an obsession with saving people and would certainly be at the forefront. If he was willing to fight alongside Nol, that guy would surely be happier.

Or was this the side effect of physical desire? Did he just want to attract Nol’s attention?

Hmm, “attracting attention” was more realistic. Let them go investigate together! Once the matter was resolved, he could confirm his question.

He was just curious about the answer, Teest firmly thought. For the Mad Monk, “wavering in thought” was a big taboo.

“Did you find the shadow?” Seeing Teest return to the camp with a grave face, Nol immediately asked.

“No,” Teest said seriously.

Nol used purification magic on Teest as a sort of baptism and then paused. [Just now, Hot Ash mentioned something very strange.]

[Hmm?] Teest responded listlessly. Ah, another serious matter.

[Everyone in this camp has received a mission named “The Corrupt False God”.] He showed Teest the interface—it was an abnormally displayed survival-type mission, and it was mandatory.

Nol didn’t realize what his knight was fussing about. He bundled the “Corrupt False God” quest with the description of his initial [Corrupted False God] skill and presented them both to Teest.

[%¥@# Mission: The Corrupt False God;

※Don’t leave? Don’t leave? Don’t leave?]

[The Corrupt False God: Fragile creation, crude rules, their world cannot survive.]

Teest snapped back to reality, his thoughts complicated. [These Players can’t leave?]

[Don’t worry. Theoretically, we can still retreat.]

Nol thought Teest was dissatisfied with the “unable to retreat” part and hurriedly explained, [We can transfer them to the foot of the mountain, at the very edge of the “Brick Shadow” map. After a few days pass, we can take them away.]

[Why are you in such a hurry? You didn’t even ask my choice.] Teest expressed his grievance. [I had made up my mind to follow you to investigate the Demon King.]

Nol was slightly startled. Beneath his hood, his eyes suddenly brightened—filled with surprise and joy, focusing intently on Teest as if nothing else in the world existed.

Teest instinctively covered his chest and abdomen. He suddenly realized that the cold, dull pain inside him had turned into a burning one, the tingling warmth spreading.

His face, stiffened by pain, relaxed, and a smile crept onto his lips, making him appear much lighter.

That joy had an inexplicable infectiousness. Just a second ago, Teest’s worries seemed to have dissipated—as if they weren’t about to venture into life-threatening danger but rather going on a garden date.

If it weren’t for his sudden urge to kiss the other, Teest almost convinced himself that “he wanted to make Nol happy”.

This puzzle was really too difficult.

[Since a decision has been made, you can discuss splitting into two groups.] Teest suppressed his smile, coughing twice in his heart.

Nol moved to block the view of others. He grabbed Teest’s hand, pressing a kiss into the palm of his knight. [Thank you, Teest.]

Teest watched him run off, covering his palm with his lips, still unable to suppress the smile on his face.

……

“I don’t agree with this grouping,” Eugene stated flatly.

“Why?” Nol was a bit surprised.

His strategy of splitting into two groups remained unchanged—

Abandon, Solo, Hot Ash, and Eugene were in one group, responsible for looking after the camp and guarding against that strange shadow. The undead knight they brought along was also temporarily staying there.

Teest, himself, Painter, Fischer, and Anakin were in the other group, responsible for investigating the Demon King upfront. Each force was represented on the surface so there was no need to worry about leaks in private.

Most importantly, he took away all the potential landmines that might trigger Eugene.

“Sir Eugene, the Saints have prestigious identities. Miss Anakin alone is enough for us. Her self-preservation ability is the strongest.” Nol tried to explain calmly. “We’ve already persuaded Mr. Hot Ash. He also thinks this is the most reasonable. If you’re worried about healing, Mr. Solo has brought enough supplies.”

“I…” Eugene, leaning on his long sword, stood up stubbornly. “I’ll replace that Fischer from Paradise. I want to go to the front lines.”

“To cause trouble?” Painter whispered loudly to Fischer, who stepped back several times.

“You know my oracle.”

Eugene narrowed his eyes, saying word by word. “The Saints received the mission of ‘The Corrupt False God’, and I’m the one who slays the False God… This is the will of the Goddess.”

“If it really was the Goddess’s will, we wouldn’t be here.”

Painter turned his head, his gaze subtly sweeping over Fischer and Teest. “Honestly, Mr. Eugene, it seems like you are being abused by Tilia—“

Whoosh!

Eugene raised his long sword, its tip pointing directly at Painter’s throat. The latter swallowed, his eyebrows drooping. “My neck is really having a rough time today.”

“Do not defile the name of the Goddess,” Eugene hissed.

Painter spoke softly, but his aura remained undiminished. His fighting spirit clashed head-on with Eugene’s, almost causing the weakened Mr. Eugene to lose grip of his sword.

Was this the confrontation between the former Pope and the future Pope? Nol watched with interest.

“Look,” Painter said, extending two fingers to casually push away the sword tip. “You can’t even harm a traitor with your ‘Sword of Faith’, let alone behead a False God. Take a step back; after all, you’re destined to slay a god, so why rush now?”

Nol could no longer watch this spectacle. So, the prophecy of Knight Eugene was to “behead a False God”? No wonder the Temple of Life valued him so much. Setting aside whether the Corrupt False God referred to the Demon King or not, Nol himself carried the [Breath of a False God]. He instantly understood Painter’s discomfort, feeling a chill around his neck.

At his side, Teest raised an eyebrow. [He’s so obsessed. I thought his oracle was to marry Tilia.] He seemed to think of something, glancing at Nol out of the corner of his eye with a soft “heh”.

“Mr. Drake’s grouping is quite reasonable.” Seeing the situation turning sour, Hot Ash stepped in to mediate. “Mr. Fischer is skinny and doesn’t look like a knight. Abandon and Solo are both support classes, unsuitable for defense… I alone as a knight am not enough. Didn’t you say you would protect us?”

Nol could understand his implication—”Drake” was nominally a magic swordsman, and Teest’s physique clearly indicated a combat class. With less than six people in the scouting team, there was no need for so many tanks.

Eugene looked around expressionlessly, then closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “Since Mr. Hot Ash has said so,” he said, trying to calm his voice, “let it be so. Fate will come regardless of time.”

Painter let out a sigh of relief in front of everyone. It was hard not to suspect it was deliberate—Eugene’s face had just softened when veins popped on his forehead again.

……

But it must be said, with Painter, the former Pope leading, their mission went quite smoothly. Painter’s profession was a “Saint”, a magic class with full-light attributes. The land he stepped on was cleared of corruption like avoiding a plague, revealing its brownish-yellow true form. Unfortunately, not long after they passed, the corruption surged back, turning everything dark again.

“Why did you provoke Eugene?”

With only their people around, Nol didn’t need to keep up his Drake act and walked curiously to Painter’s side.

“Teasing the zealot is my hobby.”

Painter smiled, glancing at Teest. “Besides, that Mr. Hot Ash isn’t a knight adept in holy light, right? ‘Night Ranger’ and ‘Ranger’ aren’t great at purification either. To ensure the base is safe, Eugene’s presence is essential.”

“Mr. Eugene must know this too. Young people are just too impulsive, forgetting everything upon hearing a keyword in their oracle.”

Teest removed his hood and untied his braid, reverting to his silver hair and golden eyes. “Then what’s your oracle, Chosen One of the Goddess?”

Painter turned back with a smile. “That’s my personal secret.”

“I bet it’s not very pleasant,” Teest replied with a smile.

“Are there any pleasant oracles in this world?” Painter blasphemed without hesitation. “What, Mr. Mad Monk, is your oracle ‘Come see how cute this human is?'”

Fischer and Anakin, walking behind, immediately looked up at the sky and down at the ground, respectively.

Nol: “…Pfft!”

Noticing Teest’s mournful gaze, Nol tried to keep a straight face, comforting internally. [It’s okay. Didn’t you say you believe in me? If you like, I can give you a ‘cute’ oracle.]

[…No need, honey.]

“Back to the topic.” Nol turned to Painter, holding back laughter to change the subject. “If you replace Eugene, the base can still hold. Eugene’s prophecy is special. Taking him is more advantageous. Why oppose it so much?”

He himself carried a [Breath of a False God] and preferred to stay away from Eugene. For Painter, just the mission “The Corrupt False God” should be enough reason for Eugene’s participation, right?

“Do you even need to ask?” Painter leisurely twirled his brush-like magic wand. “There’s more than one False God. Of course I want to reserve the beheading spot for the most dangerous one.”

“…More than one?”

The former Pope casually dropped a bombshell. Nol held his breath, and even Teest frowned. The idea of multiple False Gods, coming from the former Pope, was a significant revelation.

The common belief was that Painter left the temple due to “disliking its style”, but Nol always found it a thin reason. Painter must have discovered something during his tenure.

Who exactly were the “False Gods” Painter referred to—the Goddess of Life, the Eternal Son, or… both?

“Blasphemous fool!” Fischer reflexively shouted, his voice then slowly diminishing. “My God… My God… Uh, continue…”

“Ah, I don’t just say everything. This information is very valuable. Even ranking after ‘Dragon Clan secrets’.” Painter winked at Nol. “Some secrets, if revealed carelessly, can cause turmoil… I think you understand.”

Painter still couldn’t fully trust them. Not surprisingly, Nol thought, lowering his gaze. He hadn’t told Painter the true nature of Paradise, although this, uh, red-haired old fox might have guessed some of it.

Nol sighed inwardly, hoping that after this exploration, Painter would open up to them.

Brick Shadow, lying adjacent to the Brick Mountain Range, got its name from “the shadow of Brick Mountain”, indicative of its long, narrow terrain. Now as they crossed it to reach the Endless Sea, the journey wasn’t particularly long.

In less than two days, Nol sensed the smell of the sea in the air.

Their journey was eerily smooth, with none of the “corrupted monsters chasing day and night” that Eugene spoke of materializing. There was only one incident when Anakin strayed a few hundred meters from the group to gather herbs and was nearly bitten by a corrupted creature. After that, she stayed close to the main group.

As for the “strange shadows” that caused madness, they hadn’t encountered any. All around were endless withered trees, black mud, carcasses, and increasing corruption—but compared to the corruption near The Manor, it was much the same.

Far from relaxing, Nol became more tense. Unusual occurrences often hinted at something sinister. Their journey felt as if it were orchestrated.

Finally, at noon one day, they reached the end of the forest. The tree shadows thinned, and the sky turned a vivid red. The stinking black muck transformed into pale gravel, and the sound of the waves became faintly audible.

Teest suddenly halted, stretching an arm in front of Nol. Painter, leading the way, raised his magic wand, a white light flickering rapidly at its tip.

“What’s that?” Anakin raised her hand and said in a hoarse voice.

A shadowy figure stood at the end of the road. Dark, mist-like. It simply stood there, its outline wavering as if distorted by the hot summer air—roughly one and a half meters tall, unhealthily thin.

It raised its featureless face, staring intently at the group. A few seconds later, as if losing interest, it ran off like a child.

As the shadow departed, they saw the scene on the beach. For a moment, Nol felt numb from head to toe.

He had imagined every possible appearance for the Demon King, from “classic behemoth” and “Gothic humanoid monster” to “Cthulhu-like”. As for the Demon King’s corrupted domain, as someone in the gaming industry, he had envisioned countless conceptual scenes. But he hadn’t expected this. It was too…

[Too quiet.] Teest’s confused thoughts came through.

They faced a deformed giant. The creature was hollow and black all over. Its form was like a collapsed building, curled up like a baby. At a glance, it had a child’s body, a slightly larger head, and an abnormal number of arms. More details were unclear. Not only because it was curled up too tightly, but also because the “Demon King” was… sleeping on the beach.

There was no doubt it was the Demon King. Nol recognized it instantly. The corruption emanating from it was active, its aura suffocating. But it didn’t seem intentional—

The child-like “Demon King” curled at the intersection of the gray-black ocean and pale beach. The water defied gravity, flowing up along its body like a gray, thin blanket on a white bedsheet.

Countless black shadows ran from its head, playing on the beach—building nonexistent sandcastles, selling nonexistent ice cream, chasing and frolicking with each other.

There were no real living creatures, so none of the nonsensical chatter and laughter of the camp. Everything was eerily quiet, so quiet it made one want to sigh, with only the rustling sound of surging waves.

It was like a soft dream.


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

Midnight Owl Ch37

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 37: The End of the World

At half past eleven at night, four fully rested people, uniformly carrying the small backpacks they bought in the afternoon, took what they deemed useful and rule-abiding items and took a taxi to the Yellow River Estuary Scenic Area. Naturally, the scenic area had closed for the day, signifying no entry for visitors. The ticket booth area was deserted, with only dry leaves rustling in the night breeze.

The four found a concealed corner to wait for midnight.

Their target location was right at the scenic area’s ticket booth, meaning they were precisely on the mark.

However, as this was the designated coordinate, the absence of any “fellow competitors” even as 11:50 approached made them suspicious.

“Could we have gotten the wrong place?” Qian Ai wondered aloud, looking around. “Or are the other teams hiding somewhere out of sight?”

“Don’t bother. If they wanted to hide, you wouldn’t find them.” Xu Wang rubbed his sore eyes. He had been on alert, scanning the surroundings for the past twenty minutes; other than the faintly glowing flora under the moonlight, there was no one to be seen.

Kuang Jinxin pondered for a moment and speculated, “Could it be that when we were at the Endless Sea yesterday, the other eligible teams had already come and attempted this challenge, with the losers lagging behind and the successful ones moving forward, leaving us alone today?”

Qian Ai looked at his teammates. “I’ve noticed you always hope for the best in every situation…”

Wu Sheng looked towards the depths of the scenic area. “The checkpoint for this challenge is at a hospital. If the coordinate is indeed the hospital, then there’s no need for a hard escape…”

Hearing the implication in his words, Xu Wang said, “You mean, other teams might have gone to a place closer to the hospital to wait for midnight? Maybe inside the scenic area?”

“Or what ‘they think’ is closer to the hospital,” Wu Sheng added precisely.

Xu Wang understood. Mao Qiping had mentioned that the city maps in 3/23 are fixed, but the real-world coordinates corresponding to those maps are slightly adjusted daily, either shifting or rotating clockwise or counterclockwise. So, even teams that have cleared this challenge before can’t be completely accurate based on memory.

But having experience should be advantageous. Only greenhorns like them, without any 3/23 experience, would naively stick to the given coordinates by the [Cheat Sheet].

Wait.

If there really were no other teams around… could it be that tonight’s challenge is filled with veterans and they are the only newbies?!

“Hoot, hoot—”

At midnight, the Owl hooted eerily.

The four felt as if they were freefalling from a plane. After falling at such a speed, their hearts were about to leap out of their chests before they landed on the cold ceramic floor tiles with a “thud”.

Under the dim light, the floor reflected a cool light, and the air was filled with the smell of disinfectant, creating a somber and oppressive atmosphere.

The high alertness induced by the “speedy zombies” didn’t allow them to delay; as soon as they landed, they sprung up, surveying their surroundings tensely.

Fortunately, it was a small place.

A men’s restroom.

“This respawn point is really…” Qian Ai couldn’t find the words as he looked at the urinals.

“Don’t be picky.” Xu Wang comforted him. “At least there are no zombies here, and the environment is somewhat familiar.”

“We were told there would be weapons, right?” Wu Sheng didn’t mind the setting. There was no audience anyway. In contrast, he was more concerned about tangible benefits.

“Could it be…” Kuang Jinxin pointed towards the end stall. “Those?”

The others looked and immediately understood Kuang Jinxin’s hesitation.

At the deepest part of the restroom, right in front of the last stall, were four squarely arranged metallic boxes, each about seventy to eighty centimeters tall. The silver boxes, adorned with antique patterns, were so tall that the top one nearly reached the ceiling.

“Are these weapons or armors…” Xu Wang looked up, feeling the weight of responsibility.

As the captain, he was the first to approach the box. Crouching down, he knocked on the side of the box like one would tap a watermelon, producing a thumping sound. It didn’t really give any clue, but it was more for psychological comfort. Seeing that nothing strange happened after the knocking, he reached out and gently slid the metal strip that was vertically placed on the upper part of the box wall facing him to the side.

The “box wall” was actually the door of the box, with the hinge on the bottom edge. The other three sides weren’t connected to the box body. Therefore, when he slid the metal strip away, the door of the box fell towards him, revealing the true contents inside.

An electric shaver.

“……” Xu Wang braced himself with his hands on the ground to keep from losing his balance while crouching.

A half-meter-tall box, and all it contained was a shaver?!

Don’t they know about eco-friendly packaging?!

“Captain?” Blocked by Xu Wang’s figure at the mouth of the box, the three teammates couldn’t see inside. They only noticed him suddenly freeze, so Kuang Jinxin voiced his concern with some worry.

“It’s fine.” Captain Xu waved his hand to his teammates while facing away, then picked up the shaver and stood up to enter the open compartment next to him. “You guys continue opening the boxes. I need to calm down for a bit.”

The three teammates stopped talking. They all saw the shaver in the captain’s hand and understood that what he needed most at that moment was not to “chat” but to have some “quiet time”.

Exchanging a glance to confirm their thoughts, Qian Ai was the next to go.

He was tall with long arms, so he directly climbed to the door of the compartment and opened the top metal box.

Click.

The box wall fell with a sound, revealing the same scenario as Captain Xu’s—a screwdriver.

Qian Ai, already mentally prepared, calmly took the screwdriver and jumped down from the door of the compartment.

Perhaps reaching his limit of endurance, as he landed, the door of the compartment suddenly slanted down with a “crack”. Qian Ai stood still for two seconds, then grasped the essence of this “weapon”.

He turned back, straightened the door, and tightened the screws again.

The scene was too comical, and the remaining two teammates couldn’t bear to watch, turning their attention back to the boxes.

“Sheng Ge, you go first.” Kuang Jinxin disliked making choices; he preferred the others pick first, leaving one for him.

Wu Sheng shrugged, walked over, and picked the second box from the top. Reaching up on tiptoes, he just touched the top edge of the box and lightly pushed it open. The box wall fell down.

A… scythe?

Wu Sheng reached out and felt it, only to see clearly that it was not a curved sword but a sickle, albeit with an extremely exaggerated design for the blade. The wooden handle was only thirty to forty centimeters long, while the blade itself was almost eighty centimeters long. It had a significant curvature, tapering down from the wide part at the connection with the handle and gradually narrowing towards the end, culminating in a sharp and pointed tip.

This top-heavy sickle was awkward to handle, and even more bizarrely, the wooden handle had a series of protruding rings, resembling bamboo joints.

Wu Sheng frowned, stepped back to create space, and swung the sickle forward vigorously.

He meant only to test the feel, but as he swung, the tip firmly embedded itself in the bottom of the box he had just opened.

“Clang—” A metallic sound rang out.

His arms, halted by the box bottom and unable to swing further, were left numb from the vibration.

Wu Sheng maintained his pose of swinging the sickle, looking astonished.

He had made enough space, theoretically not hitting the box, but as he swung down, the handle lengthened.

At the critical moment, Qian Ai, who had ducked into the bathroom compartment, peeked out. His heart was pounding, and he dared not shout, only managing to grit his teeth. “Next time you do something dangerous, could you at least warn us first—”

His teammate’s complaint snapped Wu Sheng back to reality. He retracted the “extendable sickle”, trying to shorten the handle back to its original length, but couldn’t push it back in.

Now the blade and handle were balanced, and the series of protrusions on the handle smoothed out, but it was even more inconvenient to hold. It was too big to be held like a spear due to its top-heaviness and too cumbersome to be slung or carried on the back like a regular blade.

With no other option, Wu Sheng had to carry the handle on his shoulder, letting the blade hang behind.

It was carried, sure, but such a weapon was essentially synonymous with “extremely inconvenient to use,” right?!

“So handsome…” On the other side, Captain Xu peeked out with eyes twinkling.

Advisor Wu, carrying the sickle, paused. “Huh?”

“Like Death’s scythe, it’s quite imposing.” The last part, “that even Death would look good”, Captain Xu kept to himself, savoring the thought.

“Really?” Despite saying it with disdain, Advisor Wu, carrying the sickle, elegantly twirled a full 360° to showcase the look.

“That’s enough. Don’t scrape us.” Qian Ai felt uneasy, even standing a meter away from the sickle. “Xiao Kuang, take your weapon—”

With time being of the essence, Wu Sheng hastily stopped spinning and stepped aside to give space to his teammate.

Only one box was left. Kuang Jinxin stepped forward to open it.

Inside was a bulging white plastic bag, like a takeout order.

Kuang Jinxin untied the plastic bag tied with a slipknot.

A bag full of colorful, candy-like, semi-transparent balls about the size of ping pong balls with a smooth and clear surface. Squeezing one lightly with his hand, it felt moderately soft and hard, similar to the texture of rubber.

The three teammates gathered around to look, squeeze, and smell.

Qian Ai: “Rubber balls?”

Wu Sheng: “You’d better not think about throwing them on the ground.”

Xu Wang looked at his advisor. “Did you notice anything?”

Wu Sheng confidently said, “The scent of gunpowder.”

Qian Ai hurriedly put the balls back into the plastic bag, fearing they might explode any second.

Xu Wang sniffed the balls again. With Wu Sheng’s hint, he seemed to really smell a bit of the gunpowder scent. Usually, gunpowder smells strong when it’s about to explode; this scent was faint. How did Wu Sheng discern it?

Seeing his question, Wu Sheng took the initiative to explain. “When I was a kid, I dismantled fireworks. They smelled like this.”

“Fireworks are meant to be set off.” Xu Wang looked at him puzzledly. “Why did you dismantle them?”

Wu Sheng said, “To study their structure.”

Xu Wang: “…….”

“So, is this a bag of mini explosive balls?!” Qian Ai looked at his teammate’s bag of “heavy artillery” and then at his own “screwdriver”, feeling a sudden surge of despair. They were teammates, fighting together. Did they have to be treated so differently?!

“Shave off your worries.” Captain Xu handed the electric shaver to his teammate, gripping it firmly. “I just tried it. It’s quite useful.”

Facing life’s unfairness, one should maintain a Buddhist-like calm and not only focus on oneself but also lead the teammates to the same mindset. — [Captain Xu’s Team Building Handbook]

Exiting the restroom, the four finally understood why they hadn’t encountered any zombies.

This was a fully enclosed mall, with locked entrances and exits. Security guards were patrolling each floor orderly and nervously. Customers, or rather refugees, had gathered on the first floor of the mall. From the messy bedding on the ground, they had been hiding here for quite some time.

The four men crossed past the sitting and lying refugees to the revolving door.

The tall revolving door was blocked, unable to be pushed from either inside or outside, and the side doors on both sides were tightly closed. The locks should have been engaged, but there were double safety chain locks tied on the door handles.

The clock in the mall showed that it was the afternoon. Outside the mall, there was a pedestrian street. Through the glass, one could see the row of shops opposite the street, each with its own style—some fresh and elegant, others fashionable and trendy, or clear and pragmatic. There were flower shops, gourmet food, cafes, and clothing stores located one next to the other, house by house, making it not difficult to imagine the hustle and bustle of the past.

But now, everything was in disarray.

The doors of the shops had been smashed open, the glass shattered, benches askew, awnings collapsed, walls splattered with blood, and limbs lying on the ground. There were neither living people nor zombies to be seen. The entire street was emptily quiet.

It was a clear evening, with not a single cloud in the sky. The setting sun generously spreads its light, casting a warm filter over this apocalyptic streetscape.


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

Midnight Owl Ch36

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 36: Treasure Chest

They initially thought there was no choice in the treasure chest, but upon opening it, they found four smaller, more exquisite chests inside. The four teammates exchanged looks and, in a harmonious motion, each took one.

Qian Ai closely examined the chest he picked up, his mind awash with nervousness, excitement, and apprehension. He knew that the anticipation before opening a prize is often the most delightful part, allowing one to fantasize about a beautiful new world.

Taking a gentle breath, he looked at his three teammates. “Who will open theirs first…”

Before he could finish, his words were cut off by a sudden flash of bright light.

The dazzling light was intense but brief, lasting only a moment.

As Qian Ai lowered his hand from shielding his eyes, he realized his teammates had already opened their chests, with such casual motions devoid of any ceremonial respect for the chests!

Their arms chimed with a “Ding-a-ling~” sound similar to when they handed in their papers—cheerful and crisp.

Simultaneously, the chests in their hands disappeared.

“Stationery?” Seeing his teammates all lifting their arms to check, Qian Ai guessed the nature of the reward, feeling a bit disappointed. “Didn’t Mao Qiping say there would be money too…?”

“This stationery seems a bit different.” Kuang Jinxin extended his arm to Qian Ai, seemingly unsure how to explain, and instead let him look directly.

[Stationery Box]: [(Defense) Candy House], [(Illusory) Calling a Deer a Horse*]]

*(指鹿为马) Idiom referring deliberately confusing right and wrong, misrepresenting things (AKA calling white, black).

These were Kuang Jinxin’s entire stationery. “Candy House” was the reward from the last level, which Qian Ai remembered, so obviously, the chest provided [Calling a Deer a Horse].

Qian Ai was about to ask what was so different about it, as they’ve had many tools named after idioms before, when he suddenly paused, leaned closer, and finally noticed that the prefix before [Calling a Deer a Horse]—(Illusory).

It wasn’t offense or defense…

“Illusory stationery?” It seemed the only way to call it but saying it out loud felt strange to Qian Ai. “What does that mean? Fantasy? Magic? Illusion*?”

*Clarity: The word is () which can mean fantasy, magical, illusionary… so it’s quite vague without further context.

“It’s probably a special category that can’t be simply classified as either defense or offense,” Wu Sheng pondered aloud.

Qian Ai was stunned. “You got an illusory stationery too?”

Wu Sheng looked at his teammates and slowly uttered in English, “Don’t Lie to Me.”

His voice was low, almost like a whisper. His face carried a smirk that seemed straight out of a luxury brand advertisement, mysterious and elegant. But Qian Ai just wanted to throw a treasure chest at him.

Their captain clearly empathized and nudged him with an elbow. “Speak human.”

Advisor Wu Sheng showed his arm in confusion. His eyes, which had just been electrified, were now filled with a pitiful look. “It’s just this name, [Don’t Lie to Me].”

Qian Ai, along with the captain, looked at the advisor’s [Stationery Box].

Ah, it was true.

[(Illusory) Don’t Lie to Me].

Such a high-class name was obviously tailored for their advisor. =_=

First encountering an illusionary stationery and then realizing stationeries could have English names, Qian Ai felt that there must be some surprise waiting in the captain’s chest, so he straightforwardly looked at Xu Wang, asking with his gaze.

Xu Wang shrugged. “I wasn’t as lucky as they were. What I got is just a regular weapon.”

Qian Ai observed him for a moment and straightforwardly said, “Captain, you’re enjoying this.”

[(Offense) Lightning Gun with Unerring Accuracy*]

*A hundred shots with a hundred hits (发百中) Idiom referring to archery or gun shooting accurately and hitting the target every time. Metaphorically, it could mean being fully confident in doing things.

As Captain Xu showed off his weapon to his teammates, he couldn’t contain his joy, feeling like he had obtained an ultimate divine weapon. His soul soared to the clouds and then burst into fireworks. “Unerring Accuracy! Isn’t this cool? I’m just asking you guys, isn’t this gun so cool?!”

When he saw Fair Face use the stun gun in the previous level, Xu Wang wondered when he would also acquire a weapon-type stationery. Not that he wanted to go on a rampage, but at least when other teams tried to mess with them, they would have to think twice seeing this equipment.

Moreover—

Compared to arms swinging fire and wind and looking up at the sky and repelling nails, a lightning gun with unerring accuracy would be invincible in battle—this is how props should be, filled with the aura of a conqueror! Who needs to see a bunch of grown men romantically flying to the moon!

“Captain.” Kuang Jin Xin hesitated for a long time but finally spoke up to interrupt his captain’s reverie. “Isn’t this stationery a bit too violent…”

As someone who had experienced it firsthand, Qian Ai also wanted to advocate for “world peace”. “Wielding a gun is too brutal. With every shot, how much psychological trauma will be sown? After I was shocked last time, now every time I charge my phone, I feel like wearing insulated gloves.”

Xu Wang: “……”

The saddest thing in the world is when no one can understand your happiness.

“Wu Sheng.” Captain Xu looked towards the last hope. “What do you think of this weapon?”

Wu Sheng nodded calmly. “It’s quite good.”

Xu Wang raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

After some thought, Wu Sheng added, “It’s just that the name is too simple and crude, lacking poetry. Look at my ‘Don’t Lie to Me’…”

“Lao Qian!” Xu Wang suddenly turned his head. “Quick, open your box!”

Qian Ai felt wronged. None of the three had supported the captain, so why did the captain suddenly drop the bomb on him!

Whether it was laughter or numerous twists and turns, everything dispersed cleanly at the moment Qian Ai opened his box. This Endless Sea journey had seen them use three stationery and now they had opened three more. Whether it was a gain or a loss depended on Qian Ai’s action.

The air in the treasure vault quieted down as all eight eyes focused on Qian Ai’s hands, waiting to be blinded by the golden light.

Qian Ai held his breath, mentally counting one, two, three!

Click.

The lid opened in response, but there was no golden light. Instead, a stack of hundred-yuan bills filled the small box to the brim.

Qian Ai took out the money, and the box disappeared instantly, just like the ones his teammates had opened earlier. There was no “ding-a-ling~” sound of stationery updates, but the weight of the money in his hands was real.

“Ahem.” Qian Ai cleared his throat as a sort of initiation ceremony, then held the money in one hand and started rubbing it with the other, activating his proficient “money counting skill”.

Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, and Kuang Jinxin all stayed quiet, leaving only the rhythmic and dense sound of money counting in the vast treasure vault.

Soon, Qian Ai finished counting and then looked seriously at his teammates. “Twenty thousand exactly.”

Xu Wang nodded. “Keep it. It’s your gain.”

“No.” Qian Ai frowned as if the money burnt his hands. “You all got stationery. Why am I the only one who got money? It’s too vulgar!”

Wu Sheng: “……”

Kuang Jin Xin: “……”

Xu Wang sighed meaningfully. “Lao Qian, just be happy. Holding it in is uncomfortable. Trust me, I have experienced it.”

Qian Ai’s frown deepened, his voice full of righteousness. “You can insult me, but not money!”

Xu Wang: “……”

Wu Sheng: “……”

Kuang Jinxin: “Qian Ge, you seem to have spoken your true thoughts.”

“The Qian Ai who views money as dirt” lived for a total of two minutes from its birth to demise.

Then, the maxed-out Classmate Qian finally cracked a wide grin.

After so much effort, they finally saw some gains! TAT

But as much as he wanted to celebrate, Qian Ai knew well the source of the money, so after enjoying his moment, he still resolutely handed the money to Xu Wang. “This isn’t my gain. It’s our team’s loot. It should go into the communal wallet.”

Xu Wang didn’t take it. “Our gain is stationery, yours is money. It’s fair and reasonable.”

Wu Sheng provided theoretical support. “If you want to put this money into the communal wallet, then we’d have to share the stationery as well. Otherwise, it’s still unfair.”

Kuang Jinxin, not one for grand statements, simply said, “Qian Ge, just keep it. Consider it stationery for your [Stationery Box].”

Qian Ai pondered for a while, then suddenly divided the money in half, pocketed one part, and looked up with determined eyes, holding the other half. “Fine, the money is mine, but I will donate 50%.”

If someone had told him before that he would give away money he had just received, he would have taken it as a vile curse. But now, he really wanted to do so and would be happy doing it. Anyone who stopped him might face his wrath.

“Xu Wang, if you don’t take it now, you’re not considering me as a teammate.” Qian Ai grabbed Xu Wang’s hand and forcibly stuffed the remaining half of the money into it. “An alumnus is making it big. He should donate to his alma mater…”

“Fine.”

“And I didn’t donate it all… Wait?” Qian Ai paused, suddenly realizing what was happening and staring at Xu Wang.

“Principal Xu” smoothly pocketed the money and then patted Qian Ai’s shoulder. “Classmate, your alma mater is proud of you.”

Qian Ai swallowed his prepared grand speech, managing to say with difficulty. “Principal, don’t you think you took the money a bit too quickly…”

[Owl: Congratulations on passing the Endless Sea. Let’s set the paddles and brave the waves! Dear, see you tomorrow~]

As if sensing their settled dust, a teasing congratulation played in their ears. Their Endless Sea journey for the night thus came to a close.

Mao Qiping had said, you enter the Endless Sea from where you came in and leave from the same place, so returning to the waiting hall didn’t surprise the four. What was unexpected was that instead of being ejected from the dome as they entered, they blinked and found themselves sitting in the chairs near the boarding gate.

This was exactly where they had been sitting earlier. Even their bags were placed as they were at midnight. If not for the smell of seawater on their clothes, not to mention the aches in their waists and arms, they would have believed the past few hours were just a dream.

Across from them, on the row of chairs, sat a hipster youth who was on the same flight as them. He had reacted most dramatically when they were sucked into the dome earlier, whistling and taking out his phone to record the event, making him quite memorable.

But now, the youth merely glanced over nonchalantly, then continued listening to his headphones, as if the four of them had been sitting there all along, never having left.

It was still raining.

The terminal at 2:30 a.m. was quiet and drowsy.

Kuang Jinxin had somehow gone out and brewed a thermos of tea, but none of his teammates took the offer, so he savored it alone.

“Be careful or you won’t be able to sleep,” Xu Wang warned, as their most important task now was to catch up on sleep and recover.

Kuang Jinxin had just poured a lid-full of tea and looked up at the mention. “It’s lotus seed and licorice tea. It soothes the mind and aids sleep.”

“Oh.” Captain Xu naturally extended his hand. “Then give me a cup too.”

A minute later, all four teammates each had a cup of tea, listening to the rain hit the glass. They sipped the tea while smelling the clear fragrance of lotus, breathed out a sigh of relief, and watched the rain, all enjoying the comfort akin to an early retirement. Nothing could be more beautiful than the warm and composed setting sun.

The stormy waves of the Endless Sea seemed like a distant affair, so far away it made them wish if it all could just end here, and they never had to enter that hellish “Owl” again.

All four of them thought more or less the same, yet all remained silently in agreement.

Because there were no ifs, and because the voice that had sent them out said, “See you tomorrow.”

The pleasure of listening to the rain turned into a gaze into the oppressive night amidst a hundred thoughts.

Qian Ai couldn’t take the silence and decided to break it. “I don’t get it. Why are your stationery so straightforward and effective, like using [Wind That Sweeps Away the Clouds] to blow away your opponents, or [Hit Me If You Dare] to repel attacks?”

Kuang Jinxin tilted his head in thought. “Your [A Single Leaf Blocks the Eyes] is also immediate in effect.”

“But that’s defensive! Think about [Words Like Pearls and Jade] or [Invincible Hot Wheels].” Qian Ai could almost write a complaint. “I mean, it’s exhausting. You can’t keep up without good stamina!”

“The duration of a stationery’s effectiveness should relate to its attribute and effect.” Wu Sheng noted. “Like your [Invincible Hot Wheels] and Xiao Kuang’s [Tears Like Rain]; they aren’t one-and-done stationery. They require continuous commands from the user to really bring out their destructive power, so these stationeries must be given a certain effective duration. Conversely, there are one-time use stationery.”

Qian Ai: “……”

Kuang Jin Xin: “……”

Both, in all honesty, found that Advisor Wu’s explanation wasn’t entirely gibberish and could grasp some of it, but it required time.

Xu Wang put down his teacup and put his hands on the shoulders of his two teammates.

All six eyes met.

“Stationery that can kill someone in one go, like [One Fell Swoop], is one-time use; it becomes invalid after use. Whether you can kill someone depends on how well you operate it, like [Tears Like Rain] or [Words Like Pearls and Jade], which are given a certain amount of time to use.”

Kuang Jinxin: “Captain…”

Qian Ai: “No wonder you were always praised for reading comprehension in our language class.”

Wu Sheng frowned, having tried hard to simplify his way of speaking and believing he had made some progress. Why couldn’t his teammates feel it?

Feeling oppressed and unwilling to accept defeat, Advisor Wu struck again. Of course, to avoid seeming too abrupt, he had to use some fashionable vocabulary that resonated seamlessly into the conversation. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. A weapon capable of delivering a fatal blow must be disposable. Otherwise, if one could capture everything in one fell swoop here and there, no one else would stand a chance. Everyone in the world would have to call them ‘Dad’.”

Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Qian Ai: “……”

Ah, Wu Sheng carefully observed his teammates’ faces, feeling a disconnect from what he expected.

Xu Wang sighed tiredly, looking sincerely into his advisor’s eyes. “When you’re with your laptop, just focus on your work, okay? Don’t surf the internet for random things…”

By 6 a.m., the rain had stopped.

By 8 a.m., the sun dispersed the last traces of haze, revealing a clear blue sky.

By 10 a.m., their delayed flight finally took off.

The four drank their tea and then lay on the chairs to sleep, from 3:30 a.m. to 9:00 a.m. They hastily ate breakfast and continued sleeping on the plane, undisturbed by meal and drink services, deeply asleep until they reached Dongying. In this way, they disembarked somewhat refreshed.

They agreed with Mao Qiping’s advice not to enter a new level too hastily, impulsively, or carelessly. However, as they had already bought their tickets and spent the money, they couldn’t just not use them and buy train tickets instead. So, this advice would have to wait for the next level.

The precise location of the new coordinates was at the Yellow River Estuary Scenic Area in Huanghekou Town, Dongying City.

Xu Wang always wonders why the “Owl” likes to set coordinates in scenic spots. Under normal circumstances, he would definitely think that the “Owl” has a ticket-sharing arrangement with these scenic spots, hence the effort to attract customers to the area. But the problem was that the “Owl” shouldn’t be short of money. The 20,000 yuan Qian Ai obtained, after ATM verification, was confirmed to be genuine.

It was only a forty-minute drive from the airport to Huanghekou Town. The three of them took a taxi directly to the town and found a hotel to settle down.

Four people, two standard rooms. It seemed there was already a default arrangement of who would stay with whom. When Xu Wang took out his ID card, Wu Sheng naturally took it and handed it to the reception desk along with his own.

After settling their luggage, it was time for lunch. Lao Qian, not wanting to be outdone, re-entered the world of live streaming.

Arriving in Shandong, naturally, they had to eat Shandong cuisine, and being near the river, freshwater delicacies were a must. Thus, today, Lao Qian Eats All Over China broadcast was particularly popular, with many new fans joining and old fans suspecting Streamer Qian had won a lottery. The recent live broadcast foods spanned from east to west; yesterday was Shaanxi’s Saozi noodles and basin mutton, and today it was sweet and sour carp and braised intestines. It was unpredictable and full of regional and novelty appeal.

They ate lunch until after three in the afternoon. Like in Shaanxi, while Lao Qian was live streaming, Wu Sheng was busy working on his laptop during meal breaks. Kuang Jinxin browsed his phone and occasionally chatted with classmates to inquire about the school situation. Bored, Xu Wang opened the memo app on his phone to study.

The memo, transferred from Wu Sheng’s phone, was packed with text about the third challenge they had acquired from Mao Qiping and were about to face.

3/23 Content:

Break through the zombie siege and escort the vaccine to the central city hospital.

3/23 Strategy:

  1. Find a car, or you won’t survive more than thirty minutes;
  2. The randomly distributed weapons are trash. Look for better ones in the city, or use stationery;
  3. Headshots or destroying the brain are the only ways to render zombies powerless;
  4. Once bitten and bleeding, you’re infected with the virus and will become an indiscriminate attacking zombie;
  5. Don’t trust experience; no route is absolutely safe as zombie distribution changes daily;
  6. Entering the hospital doesn’t mean all is well. The last obstacle is often the hardest, including but not limited to, zombies falling from the sky, collapsing grounds, flooded corridors, etc. Please be prepared both physically and mentally;
  7. The mission is only considered a success when all members reach the hospital and deliver the vaccine.

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

Suddenly Trending Ch43

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 43

In mid-October, Hengdian finally welcomed autumn. The remnants of the summer heat had faded, and the cold of winter was still far away. It was a time of clear skies and cool breezes.

Xi Ruohan had been with the crew for a month now.

Ran Lin had been avoiding her for about the same time. Unless a scene required them to act together, he kept his distance on set, avoiding appearing within the leading actress’ field of vision. It was obvious that she didn’t like him, and Ran Lin had no desire to throw himself into the line of fire.

Tang Xiaoyu saw this and teased him, saying, “When you play Fang Xian, you’re fearless, but why do you become timid when you return to Earth?”

Ran Lin always laughed it off.

If Xi Ruohan was just a difficult leading actress, Ran Lin wouldn’t have avoided her like this. There are always difficult stars on set, and if you don’t provoke them, they won’t always be out to get you. But the leading actress liked the leading actor. Unfortunately, Ran Lin, playing the second male lead, also liked the leading actor.

Ran Lin always felt that women in love, including those with unrequited love, were very perceptive. They would use high-precision scanning rays on everyone around the person they liked. Ran Lin didn’t think it was necessary to take such a risk.

Fortunately, Xi Ruohan had her own makeup room and was always accompanied by assistants, so she didn’t have much time to bother with him.

But that was before.

Starting tomorrow, the most important scenes between him and Xi Ruohan were about to be filmed.

Ran Lin put down the script he had been studying all night and sighed deeply, feeling an unprecedented pressure.

He could pour his heart out to an imaginary Zhao Buyao, loving until it hurt. But once the face in his mind switched to Xi Ruohan, his love would instantly vanish.

To put it bluntly, Xi Ruohan was like a rival in love for him.

Of course, this relationship was something he could only think about privately. After all, she had pursued Lu Yiyao, and he was still daydreaming here. But privately, they both liked the same man, and now he had to act with full affection towards her, which was both delicate and difficult.

Getting into character was easy to say, but hard to do.

Ran Lin went to the bathroom to wash his face, then returned to bed and picked up the script to read.

After a while, he threw the script onto the bed. The emotionally fluctuating “Fang Xian” began to confess to the void…

……

At the same time, in Lu Yiyao’s room.

Li Tong was packing his boss’s luggage—there was an extremely important event tomorrow, which had been scheduled a long time ago, so Yao Hong had requested leave for her artist in advance when preparing to join the crew.

Yao Hong, who had just arrived from Beijing that day, looked tired but still talked spiritedly with Lu Yiyao, as they hadn’t seen each other for half a month. After filming started, Yao Hong left first. As Lu Yiyao’s agent, she had many things to deal with and couldn’t stay away for the five-month shooting.

Li Tong kept her informed of everything happening on set. But hearing reports and communicating face-to-face with the person involved were different.

“Is Xi Ruohan really that honest?” This was Yao Hong’s most pressing concern.

Lu Yiyao smiled bitterly. “Really very honest. She gets up at five every morning to do makeup, doesn’t rest until eight at night, and sometimes even later. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t have the energy.”

“That’s good.” Yao Hong was, for the first time, happy with the high intensity of the set. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Lu Yiyao assured her naturally, “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

Lu Yiyao’s assurance didn’t comfort Yao Hong. Maybe because he answered too smoothly, she started to overthink.

After a moment of silence, she spoke again, more seriously than before. “Whether it’s Xi Ruohan or other female artists, your fans will find it hard to accept a relationship at this stage, so you must be very careful about romance.”

Lu Yiyao looked helplessly at his agent and hit the nail on the head. “Just say outright that I’m forbidden from dating.”

Yao Hong smiled. “I didn’t want to put it that way in case you found it offensive.”

“It’s indeed not pleasant to hear.” Lu Yiyao forced a smile, partly complaining but mostly understanding. “But I know the pros and cons, and I understand you’re thinking of my future.”

Yao Hong nodded with relief. “When your talent surpasses your popularity, I won’t even interfere if you get married tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao joked, “Yao Hong, I’m only twenty-five.”

Yao Hong was taken aback, then uncertainly asked, “Isn’t your birthday next week?”

Lu Yiyao’s birthday was something Yao Hong wouldn’t forget, as every year various fan groups and artists in the circle would send their blessings.

“Externally, I celebrate my solar birthday, but at home, we’re used to following the lunar calendar, so starting this week, I’m already twenty-five*,” Lu Yiyao explained, showing Yao Hong a photo of a beautiful cake on his phone.

*Clarity: Without going into too much detail, the solar (Gregorian) calendar is calculated as 365 days a year, while the lunar calendar is roughly about 354 days a year. Thus, going by the lunar calendar, one’s birthday date can vary each year (so it can be earlier or later than your solar birthday date).

It was a three-tiered fondant cake with a base of light macaron blue, decorated with classic but not overly complex lace, topped with a small house with a family of four standing in front, hand in hand, happy together.

“My sister made it herself,” Lu Yiyao said, with a hint of pride.

Yao Hong knew about Lu Yiyao’s family background. His parents were divorced, he had a sister, and both parents’ businesses were thriving. But she also knew Lu Yiyao didn’t like talking about his family, so the fact that he brought it up today meant he was in a rare good mood.

“It’s beautiful,” Yao Hong sincerely complimented. “Did she send it to the set?”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “No, she thought it would be too much trouble to transport and said it was enough for me to just see it.”

Yao Hong couldn’t help but chuckle. “What a good sister.”

Lu Yiyao put away his phone, slightly helpless but mostly doting. “Yeah.”

……

Ran Lin had a restless night. His dreams were filled with the tangled love and disputes between Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao. When he was woken up in the morning by his phone’s alarm, he found his blanket lying quietly on the floor, not knowing when he had kicked it off during the night.

Lu Yiyao had taken the day off, so the entire day was filled with scenes between Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan. Arriving on set, Ran Lin realized that the screenwriter, Song Mang, was there. This was his first time seeing the talented writer on set after a month of filming.

It had been over a month since their last meeting. Song Mang’s attire had shifted from summer to autumn wear. What remained unchanged was his love for bright colors. Last time it was colorful beach shorts, this time an orange baseball jacket. He sat in a corner of the set, easily noticeable.

After Ran Lin finished makeup and styling, while the lighting and sound were still being adjusted, he took the opportunity to greet the screenwriter: “Writer Song.”

This was also Song Mang’s first time seeing Ran Lin in full costume. He looked him up and down and seemed quite satisfied: “Not bad. You really do have a bit of Fang Xian’s charismatic aura.”

“Having filmed for a month, if I still couldn’t get the feel of it, I’d be letting you and Director Chen down,” Ran Lin responded politely, secretly pleased inside. After all, everyone loves to hear praises, but Director Chen was stingy with compliments. So, for Ran Lin, who was eager for affirmation, Song Mang seemed to shine brilliantly in front of him.

Song Mang wanted to say more, but as he opened his mouth, his eyes suddenly flickered and then fixed behind Ran Lin, followed by an almost inaudible sigh.

Ran Lin turned to follow his gaze, realizing that Xi Ruohan, now in costume, had appeared.

Ran Lin suddenly understood that the screenwriter was still resentful about being forced to intensify the romantic subplot. He also figured out why Song Mang was present today—although the romantic storyline was already set and he had modified the script himself, reluctant creative work always leaves one uneasy. Naturally, he wanted to see the final effect.

“How do you think these scenes are?” Song Mang suddenly asked.

Ran Lin knew the screenwriter was actually longing to hear a positive response; otherwise, he would only be more troubled. Ran Lin replied objectively, “Speaking of the romance, it’s actually quite touching. Moreover, it intensifies the conflict and emotional depth later between Fang Xian and Tang Jingyu.”

Song Mang raised an eyebrow. “So you also think the romantic storyline should be emphasized?”

After pondering, Ran Lin said, “There is no first in literature and no second in martial arts*. I quite agree with this saying. I don’t think there’s an absolute which line is better than another. <Sword of Fallen Flowers> itself is emotionally heavy, so whether it’s highlighting the romance or focusing on brotherhood, as long as we can bring out everything the script wants to express, we can definitely move the audience.”

*(文无第一,武无第二) Proverb that refers to in some area of life, like arts and literature, comparison and rankings aren’t as straightforward or meaningful as they are in sports or martial arts, where competition can clearly declare a winner.

Song Mang looked at him intently for a while, then suddenly remarked with a sigh. “This is the most comforting answer I’ve heard in a month.”

Ran Lin was surprised, thinking how many people the screenwriter must have complained to and sought comments from.

But a dedicated screenwriter is always particularly attached to their work. This, Ran Lin understood.

After a brief chat, Song Mang casually asked, “Today it’s all about you two. How’s the emotional development?”

Ran Lin was at a loss for words. This question hit right at the heart of the matter.

Fortunately, the director’s assistant came over to announce the start of filming, and Ran Lin quickly excused himself from the screenwriter and headed straight for the camera.

However, once filming actually started, Ran Lin realized he could avoid Song Mang’s question, but Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao’s performance under the camera couldn’t deceive anyone.

This was a scene where he confessed to Zhao Buyao and was rejected. However, it wasn’t the usual heart-wrenching confession followed by a tearful rejection. It was an extremely gentle scene—The spring breeze for ten miles isn’t as good as you*.

*It’s an expression that has a romantic undertone, often used to express deep affection and admiration for someone. In this case, Fang Xian expressing his love for Zhao Buyao, referring to her as more precious and delightful than a cherished aspect of nature (spring breeze).

By a lakeside, with a green tree on the shore, Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan were carefully helped onto a thick tree branch, sitting side by side. Under the tree, outside of the camera’s view, thick crash pads were laid out.

As the clapperboard snapped shut, “Fang Xian” gently turned his head, secretly gazing at “Zhao Buyao”, who was looking into the distance.

A wind machine gently rustled the leaves, also lifting Zhao Buyao’s hair.

Ran Lin looked at Xi Ruohan’s profile, trying to make his gaze as soft as possible, and even softer…

“Cut!”

From a distance, the director, watching behind the monitor, used a walkie-talkie to explain to the second male lead why he called cut. “You need to look at Zhao Buyao tenderly, that’s fine, but in that tenderness, there needs to be affection, love. The camera will focus on your eyes. If you were sitting here, you’d see that your gaze is fixed, emotionless, not shimmering or surging…”

In fact, the moment the director called cut, Ran Lin knew where the problem lay, but he still listened attentively to the director’s words, memorizing every one.

He had expected Xi Ruohan to kick him while he was down, or at least give him a mocking look, but she kept her gaze fixed on the lake the whole time, appearing serious, as if too preoccupied with channeling Zhao Buyao’s feelings for Fang Xian to listen to the director’s guidance to the second male lead.

The clapperboard snapped again, starting the second take.

Ran Lin lowered his eyes, thinking about how he, if he were to sit next to Lu Yiyao, wanting but not daring to confess, would look at him secretly…

Gently lifting his eyelids, he stole another glance. In Fang Xian’s originally gentle gaze, complex emotions slowly surfaced.

There was liking, heart-fluttering, cherishing, and timidity…

“I wonder how Tang Jingyu is doing now.” The oblivious Zhao Buyao gazed into the distance, sighing softly. “I should have gone with him to the Bodhi Temple.”

“Abbot Hai Kong of the Bodhi Temple is highly skilled in martial arts. Jingyu won’t be in danger there,” Fang Xian replied casually.

Zhao Buyao turned back, looking anxious. “I’m worried that Tang Jingyu might be in danger on the way and not even make it to the Bodhi Temple. He was going to send a message; those in black won’t let him easily reach the temple.”

Zhao Buyao’s face showed only concern for Tang Jingyu.

But Fang Xian’s eyes were filled with complex emotions.

“Buyao.” Fang Xian suddenly called out softly.

Zhao Buyao was startled and looked at him, puzzled.

Fang Xian suddenly smiled gently, softly saying, “You like Jingyu, don’t you?”

Zhao Buyao looked into Fang Xian’s eyes, clearly feeling the sorrow there, and suddenly forgot her lines.

“Cut!”

The director, frustrated, called cut.

Xi Ruohan came back to her senses, still somewhat bewildered, but was the first to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

This was for the director and for the entire crew, whose time had been wasted.

Although Xi Ruohan’s reputation in personal relationships was complicated, her professionalism in her work was consistent. This was why numerous producers and directors were willing to work with her—she was good at her job, professional, didn’t delay the shooting schedule, and didn’t make unreasonable demands that could disrupt filming. Her personality might have been a bit difficult, but everyone was there to work, not to make friends. Delivering work on time and with quality was enough to relieve the producers and directors.

However, today, Xi Ruohan’s NGs were unusually frequent.

Just as Ran Lin’s emotions were getting into the groove, her feelings couldn’t be found.

The director, having no other choice, called for a half-hour break, letting the staff help the two actors down to rehearse their lines together and foster the right emotions. Fang Xian’s confession was an important turning point in the emotional storyline of the play. From this point on, Zhao Buyao would realize her feelings for Tang Jingyu, setting the tone for the development of the emotional storyline later on.

Such a crucial scene wasn’t something the director wanted to rush.

The wind blew by the lakeside, rustling the green grass.

Xi Ruohan’s light-colored gauze skirt was gently lifted by the breeze.

Xi Ruohan looked at the script with a heavy expression, as if what lay on the paper wasn’t a confession scene but a scene of sacrifice.

Ran Lin sighed and spoke up. “Stop looking at the script. Look at me.”

Xi Ruohan frowned and finally lifted her head from the script, her tone a bit irritable. “What’s so good about looking at you?”

Ran Lin knew this wasn’t directed at him personally, but rather Xi Ruohan was struggling with herself.

As a fellow actor, he understood the frustration of not being able to get into character.

“It’s not about looking at me. It’s about seeing Fang Xian. If you can’t see me as entirely Fang Xian, this scene won’t work.”

His direct words made Xi Ruohan struggle to save face. “I don’t need you to teach me how to act.”

Ran Lin calmly replied, “I’m not teaching you how to act. I’m asking you.”

Xi Ruohan was puzzled. “Asking me what?”

Ran Lin tilted his head to look at her. “Asking you to fall in love with me.”

Xi Ruohan frowned. “I love Tang Jingyu.”

Ran Lin: “But you also have to like Fang Xian—the pure friendship kind of liking. It’s because you like this friend that when you reject him, it’s hard for you.”

Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin quietly for two seconds, then let out a heavy sigh. “It’s really hard to get into character with you.”

Ran Lin nodded solemnly. “I understand. I feel the same.”

Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin incredulously, wondering if she had heard him wrong. She knew many colleagues talked about her behind her back, but Ran Lin was definitely the first to confront her face-to-face.

Then he continued to add fuel to the fire. “If I were Fang Xian, I wouldn’t fall in love with you. Xu Chongfei has good taste. Li’er is so quirky, gentle, and young…”

“Hey, that’s enough…” Xi Ruohan’s face darkened, unable to maintain her composure.

Ran Lin suddenly laughed, looking towards the lake with a distant gaze. At that moment, he wasn’t Ran Lin, but Fang Xian. “But you are brave, passionate, and pure. The first time I saw you at the righteous mansion, you were dressed in aqua, cold as the moon, yet fiery in temperament. I thought then, this girl has grown up too pretty, prickly and poisonous, untouchable.”

Xi Ruohan stared blankly at his profile, unable to distinguish who he was at that moment, and her own identity became muddled. “Then you still later…”

“Love is like that. The more you want to avoid it, the more you can’t escape. The more you want to stay away from someone, the more entangled you become.” Ran Lin turned back, looking at Xi Ruohan as if he were looking at someone else. “So I won’t run anymore. I accept it. I admit that I have fallen for you. No matter what response you give me, just being able to like you has made me very happy.”

The wind rose along the riverbank.

Not from a wind machine, but a real, gentle autumn breeze.

“I’m sorry.” Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin, her voice light and bitter. “I like Tang Jingyu…”

“It doesn’t matter who it is.” Ran Lin smiled softly, lightly touching her hair. “I just wish you happiness.”

Xi Ruohan’s eyes reddened.

At that moment, she couldn’t differentiate between the play and reality.

……

The half-hour of fostering feelings was surprisingly effective. Even the director hadn’t expected that after he called “action” again, the two actors would smoothly enter their character’s emotions.

Chen Qizheng remained stern but was inwardly satisfied.

This is what good actors are. They may not necessarily be exceptionally spirited, but having the right attitude, willing to work hard, and what’s more rare, being quick to understand and brighten up, making fast and accurate adjustments to problems.

Song Mang was even more pleasantly surprised.

He had come to observe these few emotional scenes with a resigned mindset, but, unexpectedly, he was moved, almost feeling the urge to go back to his hotel and write Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao into a relationship.

Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan’s delicacy in emotional expression and control over emotional tension far exceeded his expectations, making him look forward even more to the emotional scenes between Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao, as well as the scene where Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian become adversaries.

Alright, if he had to choose one, he was more looking forward to the adversarial scenes.

Ran Lin hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly later on. He was the first to get into character, but once in character, Xi Ruohan really did further drive the emotions of her counterpart, to the point that he almost couldn’t step out of being Fang Xian for the entire afternoon.

The leading actress was also unable to step out of character.

That night, back at the hotel, Xi Ruohan went online to watch an episode of <Yun Zhang>, choosing the scene where Lu Yiyao, playing the male lead, confessed to her, the female lead.

It was that day she fell in love with Lu Yiyao.

Even now, she still remembered the feelings from that scene.

But the problem was, she experienced the same feelings today.

If it weren’t for having to stick to the script, she might have impulsively agreed to Fang Xian.

Yes, she was sure that it was Fang Xian in the play she had fallen for, not Ran Lin, because she deliberately waited until Ran Lin had removed his makeup and found that the palpitations she felt towards Fang Xian had disappeared.

This realization brought her comfort, but also unrest.

Because she found that “Lu Yiyao” and “Yun Zhang”, the two images that had overlapped in her mind, were slowly separating.

Not only separating, but also an additional “Tang Jingyu” appeared out of nowhere.

Yet her feelings weren’t divided into three parts; they were still tied to “Yun Zhang”, gradually distancing from the two men, “Lu Yiyao” and “Tang Jingyu”.

……

[How was the scene with your scene partner today?]

[Everything went smoothly.]

Lu Yiyao, who had just finished a schedule and was on his way back on the high-speed train, looked at the WeChat message from his friend with a mix of belief and disbelief. When he and Ran Lin filmed their first scene together, they were already friends who frequently contacted each other through WeChat, and even then, it took them a while to find their rhythm. During the past month of filming, Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan had practically no interaction, and even if they appeared in the same scenes, it was mostly in group scenes. It seemed very likely they would struggle to find their state.

[I am masterful and dashing in the role. Just doing a confession scene, how hard can it be? 😎]

Lu Yiyao chuckled—[You’re overacting.]

Reading the message, Ran Lin could almost hear Lu Yiyao’s tone, and it made him feel a bit ticklish inside—[What time will you arrive?]

[It’ll probably be past midnight.]

[Can you get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow?]

[Don’t worry, I once managed with only two hours of sleep over three days.]

[And then you fainted and missed the Thailand curry trip.]

[A true hero doesn’t dwell on the past.]

Ran Lin, who was just drinking water, almost spat it out. He couldn’t even bother typing and directly sent a voice message. “What kind of hero is that!”

Lu Yiyao played it immediately, listening and laughing.

Yao Hong, sitting next to him, recognized the voice immediately. “Ran Lin?”

Lu Yiyao hummed in affirmation.

Yao Hong nodded but didn’t say much more.

Over the years she had managed Lu Yiyao, she rarely saw him truly make friends in the industry. Sometimes, when she saw other male artists showing off their friendships, boosting each other’s popularity, and attracting fans together, she wished Lu Yiyao could find one or two friends like that. But Lu Yiyao wasn’t the kind to warm up easily. Sometimes, when other male artists tried to get close to him and found his response lukewarm, they would also lose interest.

Her artist had seen too much of the industry, and when you see too much, things lose their excitement.

The night view outside the train window was a blur, making it hard to tell where they were. Yao Hong, bored, plugged in her headphones, intending to listen to some music. But she noticed a WeChat group message notification that had been there for half an hour. The message was from a colleague group that she often muted because it was too active. Sometimes she would check it out when she was free, but now someone in the group had mentioned her.

Yao Hong curiously clicked in and found the mention. It wasn’t just her being mentioned, but a whole string of people—basically two-thirds of the group members. Usually, this method meant someone was about to share gossip, calling out everyone to join the fun.

Colleagues in the industry were always eager for a juicy story.

There were three Weibo screenshots. The first was from a well-known marketing account with a sensational title: Shocking! Old high school photos of Zhang Beichen unearthed. His first love is also a handsome guy?!

The other two screenshots were zoomed-in photos. One showed two boys, arms over each other’s shoulders, grinning at the camera. In the other, they were still arm-in-arm, but one was pretending to kiss the other’s face, captured just before the kiss. The one being kissed was making a funny face at the camera, as if expecting the kiss but also seemingly unaware of it.

Zhang Beichen was the one making the funny face.

The photo quality wasn’t high, and it looked like a selfie taken with a phone. Both boys were still young, wearing high school uniforms.

In half an hour, hundreds of messages had flooded the group chat.

Most were speculating whether Zhang Beichen was gay, and a few were snickering that Wu Xuefeng would now have a headache.

Wu Xuefeng generally had a mixed reputation among his peers, often described as a smiling tiger with deep schemes.

In this industry, no agent was innocent; everyone had their ways and strategies, all hoping to push their artists to the pinnacle of success. But Wu Xuefeng was known for being more unscrupulous than others, hence his poor reputation.

Was Zhang Beichen really gay?

Yao Hong thought that these two photos alone weren’t enough proof.

Zhang Beichen’s team could easily dismiss it as youthful frivolity—just two good friends taking silly photos. Who hasn’t been young and reckless?

The real concern was if these photos were released by someone with an agenda, possibly with more to come.

Or, if the other person in the photos came forward to clarify.

Yao Hong opened Weibo and searched for Zhang Beichen. Sure enough, the photos were spreading like wildfire, with the narrative becoming more and more detailed, almost piecing together a tragic high school love story.

The comments were divided into three groups: pure fans who refused to believe and accused the marketing accounts of slandering their idol; onlookers who were just there for the drama, waiting for further developments; and a group, possibly fans or onlookers, who were keen detectives, analyzing even the micro-expressions in the photos, determined to uncover the truth behind them.

So far, Zhang Beichen hadn’t responded.

Someone was stirring the pot—Yao Hong glanced at the public opinion and the most forwarded posts, and she had her suspicions.

Maybe Zhang Beichen had offended someone, or perhaps he was blocking someone’s path, so someone wanted to target him.

This was all too common in the industry.

Some never recover from such a scandal, while others turn it around.

But these were not Yao Hong’s concerns.

She looked at Lu Yiyao, who seemed totally engrossed in his phone, probably chatting up a storm. Yao Hong sighed and gently pushed his phone screen down.

Lu Yiyao looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

Yao Hong asked directly, “What’s your relationship with Zhang Beichen?”

Lu Yiyao was puzzled and put down his phone for a moment. “Just so-so. Why suddenly ask this?”

Yao Hong didn’t answer directly but thought for a moment. “Isn’t he also filming in Hengdian now?”

“Yes,” Lu Yiyao replied. “We even had late-night snacks together when he first joined the crew.”

“Just the two of you?” Yao Hong frowned.

“No, it was with Ran Lin; the three of us ate together,” Lu Yiyao explained honestly. “After all, we were on a reality show together.”

Yao Hong asked, “Is Ran Lin on good terms with him?”

Lu Yiyao thought about the situation during the late-night snack they had together and said, “It’s alright, I guess. Better than with me, but I didn’t feel they were particularly close. Ran Lin gets along with everyone, so it looks like he’s good with everyone, but that’s not necessarily the case.”

Yao Hong was exasperated. “I was just asking casually. You don’t have to keep explaining for Ran Lin.”

Lu Yiyao spread his hands innocently. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just avoid meeting him for now,” Yao Hong advised cautiously.

Lu Yiyao felt a pang of concern. “Ran Lin? But we still have scenes together.”

Yao Hong held her forehead, almost grinding her teeth. “Zhang Beichen.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, squinting at Yao Hong. After a while, he asked softly, “Did he get into trouble?”

Originally, Yao Hong wouldn’t have shared the gossip with Lu Yiyao since it didn’t concern him, as each agency should only worry about its own artists. But after this series of questions, she couldn’t be at ease anymore and decided to show Lu Yiyao the Weibo post.

Lu Yiyao scrolled through several posts and read the comments carefully.

In the end, he looked up and said straightforwardly to Yao Hong, “Someone’s smearing him.”

“How can you be so sure?” Yao Hong, although she had the same judgment, was unsettled by Lu Yiyao’s definitive defense of Zhang Beichen. “Maybe he really is gay.”

Lu Yiyao realized Yao Hong had misunderstood him and smiled wryly. “I didn’t say he isn’t. Whether he is or not, this matter is someone targeting him. I don’t believe you can’t see that.”

Yao Hong rolled her eyes. “If I couldn’t see what you can, how would I manage you?”

Lu Yiyao looked at Weibo again and sighed. “Zhang Beichen must be in a mess right now.”

“If there’s no follow-up, it’s easier to handle.” Yao Hong pulled her phone back from Lu Yiyao. “Let’s see how Wu Xuefeng deals with it.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t speak, lost in thought as he looked out the window.

After pondering for a while, Yao Hong still asked softly, “Is Zhang Beichen really…?”

The question from his agent made Lu Yiyao recall the late-night snack they had. He felt Zhang Beichen’s sexual orientation was questionable, but there was still no concrete evidence, and intuition was always a mysterious thing.

“Hard to say.” Lu Yiyao finally gave a responsible answer.

……

Ran Lin only learned about Zhang Beichen’s trouble the next day at noon while scrolling through his phone during lunch. His first reaction was to call his agent, Wang Xi, to see if she knew the inside story, but to his surprise, she was unaware of Zhang Beichen’s situation. Ran Lin explained the situation to her, and Wang Xi’s reaction was indifferent, as it wasn’t her artist’s affair. She only advised Ran Lin to steer clear of Zhang Beichen for the time being, given the sensitive nature of the scandal.

Ran Lin, of course, understood the implications, but he couldn’t help but be curious about the situation.

The Weibo hot searches had already cycled through several rounds, but it was still the same two photos being circulated, and the direction and intensity of public opinion seemed abnormal.

Lu Yiyao, who had been observing the whole time, knew Ran Lin was concerned about his friend, but at such times, only Zhang Beichen’s team could help him. Ran Lin, despite his concern, was unable to assist.

By evening, worried that Ran Lin was still preoccupied with the matter, Lu Yiyao invited him and Tang Xiaoyu for dinner at a nearby restaurant.

Tang Xiaoyu had realized by then that Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin were genuinely good friends, and he was just tagging along. But since Lu Yiyao had invited him, he was happy to accompany them for a meal.

The three male celebrities, although conspicuous, went out late at night when it was less noticeable.

Lu Yiyao chose a small restaurant near the hotel, within walking distance. It was a rare opportunity for the three of them to get together in the evening.

“Toasting with tea instead of wine, I first toast to my big brothers.” Tang Xiaoyu stood up to start the meal in the private room. “Soon we’ll be adversaries in the drama, so I’m here to ask for mercy in advance.”

Ran Lin laughed, raising his cup to clink with Tang Xiaoyu. “I’ll be using a sword.”

Lu Yiyao joined in. “Me too.”

Tang Xiaoyu was baffled. “It makes sense for Fang Xian to use a sword, but your weapon is a flying knife!”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head. “But later I used a flying sword.”

Tang Xiaoyu paused.

Ran Lin, trying not to laugh, reminded, “The Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual is not just any sword manual; it’s also a manual for hidden weapons. In the end, Tang Jingyu learns it.”

Tang Xiaoyu remembered, “In the final part of the script, you effortlessly decipher the secrets of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. In the final battle with the Liuhua Palace, you release a short sword from the shadows, eliminating the biggest villain.”

“Under the halo of the protagonist, I can only admire,” Tang Xiaoyu conceded and downed his drink.

The dinner started cheerfully.

Lu Yiyao thought it was wise to invite Tang Xiaoyu, but about a third of the way through their casual conversation, Tang Xiaoyu suddenly brought up, “Have you guys heard about Zhang Beichen’s situation?”

Lu Yiyao wished he could stuff a bun in his mouth.


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

Suddenly Trending Ch42

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 42

The intersection of actors and roles are two different matters.

In the play, Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao hadn’t been acquainted until they fought, forming a pair of joyous enemies. Although they didn’t end up as lovers, Zhao Buyao remained the cinnabar mole* in Fang Xian’s heart, and Fang Xian continued to be the only friend Zhao Buyao could speak to without any reservations.

*It’s a metaphorical way of saying how she remains a beautiful love in his heart forever, similar to how a cinnabar mole (a birthmark that is often associated with beauty) stays with you forever.

However, offstage, Ran Lin had just left the 18th-tier and was striving to climb to the 3rd or 4th-tier as a minor actor, while Xi Ruohan was a mid-level actress who only played leading female roles. It was difficult for the two to have any relationship.

Moreover, Xi Ruohan hadn’t shown her face since checking into the hotel, and the next day, she was taken to the set by a private car with an independent dressing and makeup room. So, it wasn’t until 10:30 in the morning, when the first scene with Zhao Buyao started shooting, that Ran Lin, who had been in makeup for two and a half hours, finally saw Xi Ruohan on set.

In the play, Zhao Buyao had been adopted by the master of Liuhua Palace since childhood. She was beautiful as an angel, stunning, but with the personality of a boy, loving to read and practice martial arts. Bored in the monotonous days in Liuhua Palace, she volunteered to go to Liuma Town to investigate the reappearance of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. The master of Liuhua Palace had no choice but to agree.

Today’s shooting was about Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, and Xu Chongfei, who had become sworn brothers, coming to the righteous inn in Liuma Town to find clues, but unexpectedly encountering Zhao Buyao, who was also there. It was also the first meeting of these four characters in the play.

Except for Xu Chongfei, who was just a spectator.

The rest of them, upon first sight, made a lifelong mistake.

When Xi Ruohan appeared, Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao, and Tang Xiaoyu were resting on chairs, with other supporting actors and extras moving around in twos and threes, while the crew members were busy setting up the scene and adjusting the lights.

The scene was chaotic, with people moving back and forth—modern and ancient costumes mixing together—creating a subtly disorienting feeling of being in a time warp.

Xi Ruohan, no, Zhao Buyao, made her way through the crowd, gracefully approaching.

Like described in the Book of Songs, her hands were soft, her skin like cream, her neck like a beautiful worm, her teeth like a melon’s seeds, her forehead like a moth’s brow, her mischievous smile enchanting, and her eyes full of longing.

That was Zhao Buyao in a water-colored dress.

Ran Lin stood up in awe, along with Lu Yiyao, while Tang Xiaoyu seemed to be so captivated that he remained motionless in his lounge chair.

Xi Ruohan didn’t pick on this third male lead.

To be exact, she didn’t even glance at Tang Xiaoyu and Ran Lin but walked straight to Lu Yiyao, smiling sweetly in the breeze that fluttered her hair.

“Yaoyao.”

Xi Ruohan’s voice was as clear as jade colliding—not loud, but clear to the ear, revealing her solid foundation in lines.

Lu Yiyao was accustomed to this, showing neither awe nor admiration, only a resigned “It’s still the same old you”. “Long time no see.”

Xi Ruohan glared at him, her eyes coquettishly angry. “Didn’t we just meet last night?”

Lu Yiyao was exasperated, not sure what to think, and subconsciously looked towards Ran Lin.

The latter, originally waiting to finish their conversation to greet the female lead, was startled by these words. Seeing Lu Yiyao looking back at him, he instinctively avoided eye contact and went straight to pull Tang Xiaoyu. “Classmate Xiaoyu*, snap out of it.”

*Clarity: He’s calling him by his nickname (Little Fish), not his first name. Given that in pinyin they literally are the same letters, it would be hard to distinguish this in translation, but generally, Ran Lin and others wouldn’t call him by just his first name (since they’re not super close). Just note, if you see just Xiaoyu by itself, it’s referring to his nickname.

Tang Xiaoyu was indeed distracted. He had seen many actresses in ancient costumes, but many, despite their beauty, still looked like modern people in ancient garb, with a beautiful appearance but lacking classical charm. Xi Ruohan was different; her ancient costume and every smile genuinely transported people back to an ancient, ink-painted world.

Alerted by Ran Lin, Tang Xiaoyu came back to his senses and immediately stood up, displaying the demeanor expected of a well-mannered third male lead.

However, his heart was still fluctuating because, before this, he had only seen Xi Ruohan in modern attire at certain events. While those modern styles were charming in their own way, perhaps due to Tang Xiaoyu’s personal preference, he felt they couldn’t compare to the Zhao Buyao before him.

Seeing Ran Lin not paying much attention and fearing making things worse, Lu Yiyao simply skipped the topic of that imaginative night-time meeting and went back to the original form of address. “Just call me Lu Yiyao.”

It wasn’t like this in the last crew. Lu Yiyao didn’t know how Xi Ruohan had developed this new way of addressing him during their time apart.

“That sounds too formal,” Xi Ruohan said innocently, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think Yaoyao is nice. Yaoyao, Yaoyao, Yaoyao…”

“That’s what my mom calls me at home.”

“Cough… cough cough…”

Xi Ruohan was caught off guard and choked on her own words.

The makeup artist nearby looked desperate and, as soon as the female lead stopped coughing, immediately came over to touch up her makeup.

Lu Yiyao tried to hold back his laughter, feeling clear and refreshed inside.

Tang Xiaoyu shook his head secretly, thinking the male lead was really bad.

Ran Lin couldn’t see through the two of them. It didn’t seem like they had a private affair, as Xi Ruohan wasn’t only enthusiastic but also spoke with hidden meanings; yet, Lu Yiyao was too calm, not seeming like it at all.

“Teachers.” The director’s assistant came running over, obviously trying to make the most of every minute. “We can start over there now.”

The four of them became serious, no longer joking, and quickly walked towards the center of the camera.

The scene they were about to shoot was set in a “righteous mansion*” and was a night scene.

*A temporary coffin depository where the coffins containing the cadavers of recently deceased people are temporarily stored while awaiting transport to the place of burial. Its literal meaning is “mansion of the righteous” and originally referred to any charitable organization. These charities were typically established by prominent families to promote their standing in the community. In later 19th century, it became a euphemism for “coffin home” or “morgue”.

The three swordsmen, having just sworn brotherhood, followed clues to the righteous mansion on the northern outskirts of Liuma Town, intending to find the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual, but were met with an unexpected turn of events.

In the vast “righteous mansion”, silent and eerie, moonlight shone through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows on the coffins like frost, giving off a chill.

Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, and Xu Chongfei stood still amidst it, not daring to make a move, and looked around cautiously.

“Are you sure the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual is here?” Fang Xian’s voice trembled, showing his awe of the supernatural. “Do we really have to go through every coffin?”

“Let’s search the walls, corners, and beams first. If not, I’m afraid we’ll have to check the coffins,” Tang Jingyu said, his eyes deep and alert, feeling that things weren’t simple.

Fang Xian swallowed and gently patted Xu Chongfei’s shoulder. “Third Brother*, such meticulous work like checking coffins is perfect for you.”

*[San Di] (三弟) Younger brother in this case. In groups of male friends, especially since these three have sworn brotherhood, they are sometimes addressed according to their rank (which can either be by age or social ranking within the group).

Xu Chongfei glanced at the young master of the Fang Clan, sincerely saying, “You really are my good Second Brother.”

Being only half a month younger, Xu Chongfei had become the ‘third brother’ and had to respect Fang Xian, this unserious ‘second brother’, according to the Confucian five relationships*, with no place to argue.

*Set of key relationships articulated by Confucius, known as the five cardinal relationships (ruler and subject, father and son, elder and younger brother, husband and wife, between friends).

“There’s someone!” Fang Xian, not good at handling coffins but sharp-eared, shouted.

Following his yell, a water-colored figure swiftly emerged from behind a coffin!

“Cut! Over—”

Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked at Xi Ruohan, standing a few meters away, getting her costume adjusted by the stylist, feeling a bit nervous.

The scene they had just rehearsed was only a warm-up. The next one, where he would really interact with Xi Ruohan, was the real deal.

Today’s shoot was all set in this “righteous mansion”. Setting up such a scene required significant resources, so once set up, all the indoor scenes had to be completed.

They were shooting the dialogue scenes in the morning, and in the afternoon, the action scene team would come to finish all the action sequences in this setting.

Like the scene where Zhao Buyao jumps out, naturally, Fang Xian would have to confront her, and that part was scheduled for the afternoon.

Next, they were to shoot the scene where Fang Xian, having subdued Zhao Buyao, and his brothers interrogate her about her identity. Naturally, the amorous Young Master Fang, of course, had to take the lead.

Ran Lin actually wanted to interact with Xi Ruohan before the scene, even just some small talk, but she hadn’t even glanced at him from start to finish, either looking at the script handed over by her assistant or at Lu Yiyao, which fit her reputation for being a “difficult young lady”.

“What are you thinking about?” Lu Yiyao, who had finished touching up his makeup, came over unnoticed and asked Ran Lin, who was standing in a quiet corner, lost in thought.

“Nothing.” Ran Lin quickly averted his gaze, as quickly as if he had been caught red-handed.

Following Ran Lin’s previous line of sight, Lu Yiyao’s eyes locked onto Xi Ruohan, his brow furrowing slightly, unsure of his feelings, and commented, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?”

Ran Lin turned abruptly, disbelievingly looking at Lu Yiyao, his first thought being that this man was about to declare a romance!

Seeing Ran Lin’s expression, Lu Yiyao quickly clarified in a low but fast voice. “There’s nothing between us.”

Ran Lin was genuinely confused; his usually quick mind always seemed to freeze when facing Lu Yiyao, unable to analyze the situation and just following along with this man’s various behaviors and statements.

But Teacher Lu’s behavior was very unstable, often unpredictable—maybe flirting one moment and then straight-laced the next. One moment he seemed ambiguous with the actress, and the next, he was a straightforward, upright young man. Ran Lin thought he was probably the only one who could keep up with Teacher Lu’s pace, as anyone else might have given up midway.

Wait a minute.

Ran Lin pursed his lips, realizing he had already decided to give up… When had he gotten back on track?

“Last night she brought me some local specialties. After all, it’s our second collaboration, so we had to break the ice beforehand.”

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“Actually, you don’t need to explain to me.”

“But your expression clearly showed you misunderstood.”

“It’s okay to misunderstand. You’re both single, and she really is beautiful.”

“It doesn’t matter if others misunderstand, but you’re my friend, and I need to clarify things with you.”

“……”

That’s it! This “you’re my friend, you’re important to me” attitude was trapping him in a world of unrequited love… Lu Yiyao, you fiend!!!

“You still don’t believe me?” Lu Yiyao looked at Ran Lin somewhat helplessly, feeling he couldn’t find more convincing words.

Ran Lin quickly shook his head. If nothing else, Lu Yiyao was absolutely a role model in sincerity towards friends. “No, I believe you.”

Lu Yiyao skeptically raised an eyebrow. “Then why does your expression look like you’re still cursing me?”

Ran Lin was embarrassed, quickly hiding his “it’s all your fault for my unrequited love” emotions and putting on a bright smile.

Lu Yiyao unconsciously stepped back, saying seriously, “You might as well scold me. A hidden knife in a smile is scarier.”

Amidst the joking, the set was ready, and the next scene was about to start shooting!

Zhao Buyao, defeated in the duel, was surrounded by the three men. As the director called action, Xi Ruohan suddenly raised her head, her eyes shooting angry glares straight at Ran Lin!

“A big man bullying a small woman like me—what kind of skill is that!”

Xi Ruohan’s anger was so genuine that Ran Lin felt as if he could be pierced by her gaze.

Distracted, he lost focus.

“Cut!” the director said discontentedly, poking his head out. “Fang Xian, say your lines!”

Ran Lin quickly apologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

There was no excuse for forgetting lines.

The director frowned and refocused on the monitor.

Turning back, Ran Lin met Xi Ruohan’s disdainful gaze.

This was different from the earlier anger; it was a disdain from a height—the real Xi Ruohan.

Unrelated to anything else, just the female lead’s gaze at the male second lead, especially when they were strangers off-screen, and the male second had just NG’d.

“<Swords of Fallen Flowers> Scene 98, Take 2…”

Click!

The moment the clapperboard closed, Xi Ruohan’s disdain suddenly flared into anger, as if Zhao Buyao’s soul had possessed her.

“A big man bullying a small woman like me—what kind of skill is that!”

“A small woman sneaking into a righteous mansion at night doesn’t sound easy to bully,” Fang Xian replied with a flirtatious undertone, casually making his entrance.

“Everyone’s here for the same thing. Playing dumb isn’t fun,” Fang Xian said, circling Zhao Buyao with a smug smile, his eyes filled with a romantic flair. “I guess… you’re Zhao Buyao.”

The woman looked up in surprise. “You know me?”

Xu Chongfei struggled to hold back laughter. Even Tang Jingyu’s icy demeanor softened, his gaze warming towards Zhao Buyao.

Fang Xian subtly warned his brothers with a glance, as if to say, “Don’t ruin my chances,” then turned to the girl, who was easily tricked into revealing the truth, changing from his previous flirtatious demeanor to a sincere and honest face, even his voice sounding like a decent young man. “I don’t know you, but I’ve heard that Zhao Buyao of Liuhua Palace can captivate a city with a smile and captivate a nation with another. I don’t believe there’s a second girl as beautiful as you, so you must be Zhao Buyao.”

The woman slowly recovered from her initial surprise, listening quietly to Fang Xian finish, then gently said, “My mother said, the more pleasant a man’s words, the more dangerous he is.”

Fang Xian stood frozen, more embarrassed than ever.

Xu Chongfei burst into laughter, no longer sparing his second brother any face.

Tang Jingyu also chuckled silently, his shoulders silently trembling.

Fang Xian took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, finally regaining the demeanor of the young master of the Fang Clan. He declared loudly, “Good, now we have one more person to help open the coffins.”

“Cut—”

After calling cut, Director Chen emerged from behind the monitor. The four actors didn’t dare to move, knowing that the director’s coming out meant he had something to say about the scene.

Indeed, Chen Qizheng, approaching them, got straight to the point. “Next, you’ll open the coffins in two groups. Fang Xian will follow Zhao Buyao to this side…”

As he spoke, the director walked over to the designated coffin.

The four actors immediately followed.

“Tang Jingyu and Xu Chongfei will open that side. In the end, after all the coffins are opened, in this coffin, Tang Jingyu will find the token and the identity of the deceased. When you pick up the token, the camera will zoom in for a close-up, so try not to shake your hand, keep it steady…”

Since the next scene’s movements were quite complex, the director walked them through it again after explaining.

Feeling it was about right, he returned behind the monitor.

The extras had already lain down in the coffins, and the crew was busy placing the lids on.

The lighting technicians were also busy, adjusting the lights shining on the corpses’ faces.

Lu Yiyao and Tang Xiaoyu went back to rest in their chairs outside after the director finished explaining. Ran Lin, wanting to familiarize himself with the movements, stood still, watching the extras lie down in the coffins and mentally rehearsing the movements.

As he was thinking, a voice suddenly appeared behind him. “Are you and Lu Yiyao close?”

Ran Lin, who was pondering the Young Master Fang’s reaction to being scared by a corpse, jumped in fright at the sudden question, almost turning around in horror.

Xi Ruohan frowned unhappily and said coldly, “What’s with that expression? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ran Lin glanced around subconsciously. The busy crew members didn’t pay attention to the interaction between the lead actress and the second male lead.

“I was just thinking about the scene and got a little scared,” Ran Lin explained politely.

Xi Ruohan seemed amused by his answer and sneered, “In my opinion, you really don’t need to put in so much effort. Just get through the scene without NG, and the director will be grateful.”

Ran Lin gave an awkward smile and didn’t respond.

This lady seemed intent on picking a fight. He couldn’t provoke her but could stay silent.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. What does your silence mean?”

Ran Lin sighed. Being a big star, she probably had a bit of a temper, was spoiled by the industry, and was adored by fans. It was rare to find someone as good-natured as Lu Yiyao, a real gem.

“I was thinking…” Unable to avoid, he braced himself. “What was the question that Teacher Xi just asked?”

Ran Lin smiled warmly, but Xi Ruohan frowned frequently, not answering his question initially, instead musing. “You really don’t resemble Fang Xian at all.”

This was her personal reflection, not needing Ran Lin’s input, so she immediately returned to her main concern, reiterating her most pressing question. “Are you and Lu Yiyao close?”

Ran Lin thought for a moment and cautiously replied, “It’s alright, I guess. After all, we’ve done a reality show together.”

“It’s more than just alright.” Xi Ruohan obviously doubted his answer. “I saw you two hiding in the corner and talking for a long time.”

Ran Lin was taken aback, not expecting the lead actress to have such insight.

“It was just about the scene, nothing else.” Ran Lin stuck to the work explanation, certainly not about to admit they were discussing her meeting with Lu Yiyao the previous night.

Xi Ruohan scrutinized him warily and, after a long moment, warned, “Lu Yiyao is kind of naive, with a low guard. I’m different. I can see through whatever you’re planning, so you better behave.”

Ran Lin faced her gaze with forced calmness but was internally breathless, his mind going blank.

Xi Ruohan, looking as if she already knew, whispered threateningly, “Listen, if you dare use him for publicity again, to ride on his popularity, I have a hundred ways to make sure you can’t stay in this crew.”

Ran Lin blinked slowly, regaining his breath. “Just… that?”

Xi Ruohan frowned, a bit baffled. “Isn’t that enough? What, do you want me to kick you out of the entertainment industry?”

“No.” Ran Lin hurried to clarify. “I mean, the warning you’re giving me… is just that? Riding on popularity?”

“Don’t play dumb. Airport dramas, climbing up through variety shows—I’m too familiar with your tactics. This time you’ve wormed your way into <Sword of Fallen Flowers> just to ride the popularity wave to the end, right?” Xi Ruohan leaned closer to Ran Lin, glaring down at him, her nostrils almost skyward. “I’m telling you, taking advantage of colleagues can backfire. Sometimes, if you overdo it, you’ll get stuck at the bottom of the pot, unable to get out for a lifetime, never able to turn things around.”

“……”

“What? Speechless because I hit the nail on the head?”

“No.” Ran Lin swallowed, sincerely saying, “I just think your metaphor is very vivid…”

Xi Ruohan: “Has anyone told you that being snarky when someone is serious can be particularly annoying?”

Ran Lin: “Has anyone told you that you and Lu Yiyao are really similar?”

Xi Ruohan froze, her cheeks blushing rapidly, as if with the touch of a beautifying filter.

“How are we… similar?” Any threat, disdain, or mockery gave way to shyness.

Ran Lin smiled, but his mood grew complex after.

This girl really liked Lu Yiyao.

Stripping away fame, temper, acting skills, and all attributes attached to Xi Ruohan, what was exposed was a girl who dared to love and hate. Just being able to openly express “like” was enough for Ran Lin to envy.

And in the aspect of “thinking she knows it all but actually being sweet and naive”, she and Lu Yiyao indeed shared similarities.

“Hey, I asked you a question!” Waiting in vain for further explanation, Xi Ruohan grew impatient again.

The set was ready for the next scene.

Xi Ruohan glanced at the waiting crew behind her, urging anxiously. “Hey—”

“Sweet.” Ran Lin smiled at her deliberately, his eyes curving, gentle as jade. “You both are quite sweet.”

Watching Ran Lin’s fluttering figure, Xi Ruohan suddenly felt that he did resemble Fang Xian a bit.

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers>, Scene 99, Take 1…”

Lu Yiyao, seeing Xi Ruohan’s face clearly wearing a silly smile, didn’t understand what made her so happy.

Fortunately, with a “click”, the angry Zhao Buyao returned.

……

The morning’s dialogue scenes at the righteous mansion went smoothly. The group of four decided to form a defensive and offensive alliance, as they all sought the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. It was agreed to collaborate first and deal with the manual later. However, when they opened the coffins, they found tokens from the Zhaixing Tower. Specifically, the corpses in the righteous manor weren’t villagers from Liuma Town but members of Zhaixing Tower, including the tower’s master.

Zhaixing Tower, a prestigious sect in the martial world known for accomplishing any task for the right price, even fetching stars from the sky*, was now in disarray.

*Clarity: Their name [Zhaixing] (摘星) means reach for the stars.

The discovery of their corpses in this inconspicuous village’s righteous mansion was chilling.

What surprised the four even more was finding an artifact from the Shengtian Sect at the scene. All clues pointed to the sect as the murderers. Just as they discovered this, a group of men in black burst in, attempting to snatch the artifact.

With time pressing and heavy scenes to film, the actors quickly had lunch, and the action scene team was ready to go. The setting was still the “righteous mansion”, but the scale was much larger than in the morning.

Ran Lin was excited to wear the wire harness for the first time.

Tang Xiaoyu, an experienced actor, commented with a knowing look. “You won’t be smiling for long.”

Ran Lin felt a bit tight in the wire harness but didn’t take Tang Xiaoyu’s words too seriously.

However, once on set and hoisted into the air, Ran Lin was shocked.

He couldn’t even control his expressions, let alone speak his lines. The only feeling he had was constriction.

This wasn’t just ordinary discomfort but a suffocating tightness, akin to the Evil Queen disguised as an old hag, cinching Snow White’s corset so tight that she nearly died.

The assistant director had to call a halt.

The martial arts director, a hot-tempered man, exploded in anger, berating Ran Lin and questioning his ability. He suggested using a stunt double instead of wasting everyone’s time.

Being a martial artist, even the director treated him with respect. With no experience of his own, Ran Lin could only accept the criticism quietly.

Compared to Ran Lin, Tang Xiaoyu’s scenes were simpler, and Xi Ruohan, with her experience, performed flawlessly.

Because of Ran Lin, a single scene dragged on for an entire hour.

The atmosphere on set grew tense, and the martial arts director’s face, already stormy, darkened further.

Despite his anger, the martial arts director diligently instructed Ran Lin on the movements, explained the essentials, and demonstrated the actions, though he struggled to keep his voice calm.

Finally, after another attempt, the assistant director grudgingly approved the scene.

Ran Lin knew his movements were still lacking, but the crew couldn’t wait for his continuous NGs, so they had to make do.

With the most challenging scene behind them, the remaining ones were relatively easier. With more people and group fighting, individual performance demands weren’t as high.

They worked until 9 p.m., finally completing all the action scenes at the righteous mansion—an hour later than scheduled.

When the assistant director called it a day, Ran Lin’s thighs were numb.

“You did well. My first time with wires wasn’t even as good as yours.” Tang Xiaoyu, noticing Ran Lin’s dejection, patted his shoulder before going to remove his makeup.

Ran Lin appreciated it but knew his performance was lacking, responding with a wry smile, “Don’t try to comfort me.”

Unexpectedly, Tang Xiaoyu earnestly replied, “Really, the first time I was hoisted, I screamed out loud. It wasn’t leg pain, but…” Tang Xiaoyu looked around to ensure privacy before whispering with a pained expression, “It was… egg pain, you know, like your balls being crushed…”

“That’s enough.” Ran Lin stopped him, feeling a wave of sympathetic pain. “I can imagine.”

“Are you two not going to remove your makeup?” Xi Ruohan, after speaking with the assistant director, was ready to leave and saw the two chatting.

“We’re going now,” Tang Xiaoyu hastily replied. “I was just sharing some wire-fighting tips with him.”

Xi Ruohan took a sip of the tea handed to her by her assistant, her eyes showing disdain. “You’re teaching him? You should improve your own movements first. They lack strength and look like mere posturing.”

Tang Xiaoyu was dumbfounded on the spot.

After the lead actress left, Tang Xiaoyu dared to speak. “What a diva.”

Ran Lin laughed, remembering something. “She just looks fierce.”

Tang Xiaoyu was surprised, doubtingly looking at Ran Lin’s smile, and whispered, “You’re not falling for her, are you?”

Ran Lin was exasperated, suspecting his fellow cast member was naïve. “I only acted with her for the first time today.”

“That’s common here,” Tang Xiaoyu said naturally. “Falling for each other while acting is pretty usual in this circle.”

Ran Lin suddenly remembered Tang Xiaoyu’s almost slipped mention of a girlfriend and had a lightbulb moment. “Is your girlfriend from the industry…”

“I’m off to remove my makeup. See you later!”

Xiaoyu hurried off.

Ran Lin laughed so hard he could finally feel the pain in his thighs.

……

“What a torture…”

In his hotel room, Ran Lin carefully removed his pants, revealing his pale thighs, then examined the bruising under the bright light.

The marks were from the wire harness, a large area of blood red, especially noticeable against Ran Lin’s fair skin, looking alarmingly stark.

“Who in their right mind invented this wire harness…”

Ran Lin knew this was a necessary hardship for filming martial arts scenes and had mentally prepared himself. Having endured through the day, he felt entitled to a private rant to ease his physical and mental strain.

Just touching the tender bruise on his inner thigh sent a sharp pain, causing Ran Lin to swiftly retract his hand, too scared to touch it again.

It really hurt.

Thinking about having to shower later filled him with dread.

At times like this, he couldn’t help but envy Lu Yiyao—Tang Jingyu, disabled since childhood, couldn’t perform qinggong or use inner force. He learned a few moves with Fang Xian but became formidable with hidden weapons he secretly learned. In the show, he never had to fly through the air, usually hiding and attacking from the shadows. Indeed, one could only envy the male lead who never had to take to the skies.

The direct result of this character design was that in the afternoon, while the three of them were filming the action scenes, Lu Yiyao didn’t need to come at all. His scenes of throwing hidden weapons from the shadows had already been filmed in the morning. The entire afternoon, he continued with the dialogue scenes in Group A under Director Chen’s guidance.

Ran Lin thought it was just as well that Lu Yiyao wasn’t there; otherwise, with all those NGs, he would have wanted to hide underground.

While lost in thought, a notification from WeChat rang out.

Opening it, he saw a message from Lu Yiyao—[Back at the hotel?]

Since the dialogue and action scenes wrapped at different times, Lu Yiyao must have been back for quite a while.

Too tired to speak, Ran Lin also sent a text in reply—[Yeah, just got back.]

[How did it feel hanging on wires? 😏]

Ran Lin knew Lu Yiyao was teasing him, but he really wasn’t in the mood for jokes and honestly replied—[Painful.]

Lu Yiyao was momentarily taken aback by the response on his screen.

He expected Ran Lin to joke about it, saying things like “Exciting,” “You should try it,” or “Like flying through the clouds like an immortal.”

But all Ran Lin replied was a single word.

The problem was, he could feel the pain just by reading the message.

Without much thought, Lu Yiyao called him directly.

Ran Lin was startled by the ringtone, regretting his honesty, and hesitated before answering.

Before he could speak, Lu Yiyao’s voice came through. “Are you alright?”

Ran Lin immediately tried to sound energetic. “I’m fine, just kidding.”

There was a pause on the other end before Lu Yiyao asked, “Where does it hurt?”

Ran Lin stubbornly denied. “I told you, I was joking. Can’t you take a joke…”

“If you don’t tell me, I’m coming down.” Lu Yiyao interrupted.

Ran Lin was confused. “Coming where?”

Lu Yiyao’s exasperation was audible. “Down to your floor to find you. Did hanging on wires make you stupid?”

Ran Lin hurriedly declined. “No need, no need. It’s just a bit tight wearing the harness all afternoon, but I’m fine now that I’ve taken it off, really!”

Lu Yiyao frowned, feeling something was off with Ran Lin.

It wasn’t a big deal to be hurt from hanging on wires, a common occurrence in filming. But it was precisely because it was trivial that Ran Lin’s hesitance made it suspicious.

“I’m going to shower. Let’s not talk for now,” Ran Lin excused himself.

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment and agreed.

After hanging up, Lu Yiyao sat on his bed, thinking for two minutes before calling Tang Xiaoyu.

Tang Xiaoyu, showering at the time, picked up the phone to see it was Lu Yiyao and immediately answered, “Brother*?”

*[Da Ge] (大哥) Term used for the eldest brother.

Lately, Tang Xiaoyu enjoyed using their character names, feeling more comfortable than “Teacher Lu”.

Lu Yiyao didn’t mind and asked with concern, “How did the afternoon shoot go?”

Tang Xiaoyu was surprised that Lu Yiyao had time to care about him, attributing it to the camaraderie they developed last week. He reported, “Not bad. The first scene was a bit rough, but the rest went well.”

Lu Yiyao casually asked, “What happened in the first scene?”

Tang Xiaoyu candidly explained, “It was Ran Lin’s time on wires, so he needed some time to adjust.” He and Ran Lin got along well, so they referred to each other by their names.

Lu Yiyao guessed some of it. “Did he NG many times?”

Tang Xiaoyu sighed. “Yeah, the martial arts director almost lost it. Luckily, it got better later.”

“It’s understandable. His first time on wires must have been hard.”

“Yeah, not just for Ran Lin. Even I, who am used to it, suffered.”

“Were the wires that tight?”

“Of course, my thighs were all red. You have to wear loose and soft pants, or it rubs and hurts.”

“I’ve never been on wires…”

“I know. I thought you couldn’t handle it… Uh, I spoke too fast without thinking. Can I take that back?”

Lu Yiyao laughed, reassuring, “No problem. I like honesty.”

Tang Xiaoyu, after a moment’s reflection, decided to apologize for his assumptions. “Sorry for my presumptions. But you kept it too well hidden. If it weren’t for that Disneyland episode, I wouldn’t have known you’re afraid of heights.”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “It’s a natural fear, can’t help it.”

“No.” Tang Xiaoyu genuinely envied. “It means you’re blessed. At least you don’t have to hang on wires.”

“Is it really that tough?”

“Why would I lie to you? Wait a moment…”

True to his word, Tang Xiaoyu took responsibility for his claims. He stepped out of the shower, snapped a close-up “bruise on skin” photo showing a large red mark, and sent it to Lu Yiyao via WeChat.

Though abstract, with no risk of exposure, the photo clearly showed a painful-looking bruise, evoking sympathy from viewers.

Upon seeing the photo, Lu Yiyao felt a pain in his own thigh.

He couldn’t help but think of Ran Lin’s fair skin, imagining the marks on him, which seemed almost cruel.

“See? What do you think?” Tang Xiaoyu waited for feedback.

“I see it,” Lu Yiyao earnestly said. “I should send a gift to the scriptwriter.”

Tang Xiaoyu laughed in agreement. “Absolutely. The script is filled with love for you!”

Lu Yiyao chuckled, chatting briefly before ending the call, knowing Tang Xiaoyu was still showering.

However, Tang Xiaoyu didn’t resume his shower immediately. Instead, he admired his photo, feeling it had artistic merit, and uploaded it to Weibo with the caption “How a hero is made.”

The image was abstract, but his fans, keen-eyed, quickly realized it was a wire-work bruise, given Tang Xiaoyu’s filming schedule, and showered him with sympathy.

Ran Lin, also showering cautiously at low temperature and pressure, received the bloody photo from Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin was taken aback, initially not understanding the image, full of red, which was rather unsettling.

[???]—Just sending three question marks, Ran Lin felt proud of his restraint.

The reply came quickly—[Tang Xiaoyu’s thigh.]

Ran Lin stared at the words for a full minute.

[Why did he send you his thigh photo?]

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. Shouldn’t the question be, “Why are you sending me this photo?”

But it didn’t matter. The response was more useful than he expected.

[To compare.]

Ran Lin frowned in confusion.

[Compare with whom?]

[You.]

[I’ve never sent you a photo of my thigh 💦.]

[You can send it now 😊.]

[……]

[?]

[Your tricks are too deep…]

[😳]

Ran Lin, looking at the blushing emoji, felt both annoyed and amused.

Although he ultimately didn’t send any weird photos, strangely enough, his thigh didn’t hurt as much anymore.


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

Midnight Owl Ch35

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 35: Climbing the Lighthouse

Just when the four thought that the obstacles were cleared and the path ahead was open, suddenly four figures rushed out from behind a small pile of broken reefs behind the lighthouse, swiftly skimming the base of the lighthouse like mudfish and slipping into the main entrance!

Xu Wang and his team, positioned diagonally in front of the lighthouse, could only watch helplessly as the opportunists emerged from behind the rocks and stole their victory in an instant!

The lighthouse was only about ten to twenty meters high, so reaching the top was a matter of minutes. Mao Qiping had said that it doesn’t matter who knocks down the lighthouse keeper; what is essential is entering the treasure vault—that is the ultimate goal. Those people choosing to hide behind the rocks at the back of the lighthouse clearly indicated their strategy of giving up a frontal assault for a more opportunistic approach.

“Shit—”

“Fuck—”

The curses from Wu Sheng and Qian Ai burst out simultaneously, creating a peculiar effect of Chinese-English comparison*. Taken aback, the two glanced at each other, and in the next moment, both leaped up and dashed toward the main entrance of the lighthouse at their top speed!

*Clarity: Shit was said in English.

Kuang Jinxin came to his senses after his two teammates had already chased off and hurriedly got up to follow.

But soon, he sensed something was off. Wu Sheng and Qian Ai had already reached the door of the lighthouse, and he himself was halfway there, but where was their captain?

Just as the question arose in his mind, he heard Xu Wang’s shout from behind. “You guys chase. I’ll block from above. We’ll encircle them front and back—”

Kuang Jin Xin paused. “Above?”

“Got it—” Running at the front, the advisor of the team didn’t slow down or turn his head but responded with confidence before sprinting into the lighthouse.

Upon hearing Xu Wang’s tactic, Qian Ai hesitated for a moment, obviously not as clear as Wu Sheng, but eventually, without asking further, he quickened his steps and followed in.

Kuang Jinxin finally reacted.

With the height of this lighthouse, one doesn’t need to run many stairs to reach the top. In such a short time, even if they chased inside the tower, the probability of catching or even stopping the opponents was minimal. The only way was if they could somehow reach the top first, all four storming the treasure vault together, or at least one of them arriving first to block the opponents at the door of the vault, buying time for the others.

The captain intended to be this blocker, as he had [Chang’e Flying to the Moon], which, as the name suggests, must include flying as one of its effects. The captain could then ignore the stairs and fly in from the outside, landing directly in front of the treasure vault!

Realizing this, Kuang Jin Xin, who had already reached the lighthouse’s door, still swiftly turned back for a glance, seeing only the seriousness on Xu Wang’s face and the determination in his eyes.

This wasn’t the Xu Wang he knew.

This was their captain.

In the next second, Xu Wang closed his eyes, seemingly in deep meditation.

Kuang Jinxin understood immediately that the captain was using [Chang’e Flying to the Moon], establishing a connection with the stationery.

The stationery in the “Owl” was generally of two types: one was like [Fishnado], [Jingle Bells], or [Wind That Sweeps Away the Clouds], which had immediate effects upon clicking; the other required the user to control. For the latter, after clicking, no clear textual instructions like “How to Use” would appear, but some “sense fragments” were released. The user had to focus, capture these fragments, and integrate them to figure out how to manipulate the stationery and to get a general direction of its effects.

This meant that the effectiveness of such stationery was directly linked to the depth of connection established between the user and the stationery. A deep connection allowed for thorough exploration and ease of use, doubling the effectiveness; a shallow connection significantly reduced the stationery’s power, like missing the “wind” effect of the [Invincible Hot Wheels].

[Chang’e Flying to the Moon] should be both beautiful and sharp.

“Captain, you can do it,” Kuang Jinxin whispered encouragingly, no longer distracted, and charged up the stairs!

As Kuang Jinxin burst through the lighthouse’s door, Xu Wang opened his eyes in astonishment.

Waiting to ascend through the clouds, he finally sensed the key information from the “fragments” released by the stationery… Was stationery meant for the opponent’s use?!

Shouldn’t he, the user of [Chang’e Flying to the Moon], be rising with the wind with his clothes fluttering like a stunning swan?!

He had so handsomely laid out the tactics for his teammates—a pincer movement from both ends. Soon his teammates would reach the top of the lighthouse, only to find that their captain was still desperately chasing behind!

Losing the dignity of a captain wasn’t important, but how would he face his teammates, who trust him so much, if they lost the treasure?

“Shit!”

Xu Wang cursed in English, driven by some inexplicable force, only to realize that it couldn’t fully express his frustration and anger.

“Fuck—”

With a curse, Captain Xu charged into the lighthouse.

From the outside, the lighthouse appeared bright and pristine, but inside it was dimly lit with walls and floors made of dark cyan stones, weathered and mottled, resembling an abandoned church or castle from the Middle Ages.

The spiral staircase was extremely narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Xu Wang dashed up, taking two steps at a time. But after just a few twists, the endless circling made him feel dizzy and his vision blurry, to the point where he thought he saw someone floating ahead…

Someone?!

Xu Wang suddenly snapped to attention and stopped abruptly, but the staircase was so narrow and his speed so fast that he, driven by momentum, still collided with the arm of the person ahead.

What happened next was nothing short of a miracle.

Upon collision, that person slowly floated upwards about ten centimeters and then, without any intention to turn, lightly touched his back against the wall.

Despite this, the person maintained a graceful pose, one hand stretched forward, the other back, knees slightly bent, as if a fairy was running futilely to the moon in a weightless universe.

Of course, this “fairy” was male, and his face bore a fierce expression completely at odds with his classical pose.

Their eyes met, and the man’s anger was unmistakable. However, contrary to his raging fury, his lips moved slowly and silently, with no sound reaching Xu Wang’s ears.

Xu Wang had to rely on lip-reading.

“I… Fuck… You… Forget it. You’re talking too slowly. See you!” Giving up on communication, Xu Wang stepped over this fellow classmate and continued climbing.

Just half a circle later, he encountered a group of three “fairies” huddled together. The entire members of the “Steal the Fruits of Victory Squad” were now assembled.

Unlike the previous one, these three, though also moving gracefully, weren’t purely floating but bouncing up and down. Each time their feet touched the ground, and they exerted a little force, they would spring up high until their heads touched the underside of the steps above, then slowly descend. The whole process was like a slow-motion scene, with every detail clearly visible.

The first fellow male classmate’s condition made Xu Wang think that [Chang’e Flying to the Moon] was a “fixed pose + weightless state”, but now he realized it wasn’t weightlessness but extremely low gravity, so low that it was hard to balance the body during motion, and a slight force could cause significant displacement, occasionally resulting in a floating state, with sound unable to propagate.

[(Offense) Chang’e Flying to the Moon], Chang’e referred to the opponent’s posture, and Flying to the Moon referred to the state of the opponent—that was, running gracefully on the moon.

Xu Wang quickly pushed past these three and continued upward, feeling the joy of being “The Flash” against the backdrop of his opponents.

So cool!

As Xu Wang disappeared into the depths of the stairs, the three, filled with anger and helplessness, could do nothing but watch.

They had no idea how to handle the lighthouse keeper, so they chose a dark spot to ambush, waiting for an easy victory. This kind of opportunism, even if it failed at the doorstep of the treasure vault, was acceptable.

But suddenly slowing down thirty-two times to pose and float? Had the user of this stationery ever considered the victim’s shame endurance?! Don’t they have any conscience?!

Xu Wang, completely untroubled by any conscience, continued with the joy of The Flash and the sense of victory over his enemies, reaching the top of the lighthouse in one go.

A lighthouse keeper with a bundle of long nails embedded in his chest lay at the corner under the square hole, with sunlight streaming in from outside right onto the door of the treasure vault and the faces of his three teammates who had been waiting for a long time.

“Captain!” Kuang Jinxin could hardly contain his excitement and admiration, giving a big thumbs-up. “[Chang’e Flying to the Moon] is so cool! A million times cooler than I imagined!”

Qian Ai nodded vigorously. “When Wu Sheng and I caught up with them, we were dumbfounded, thinking they were slowing down intentionally to pose for us. It took a while to realize they were actually ‘Flying to the Moon’ haha!” After a hearty laugh, he felt a twinge of sympathy. “It was a complete psychological crush, much more damaging than a front and rear pincer. They probably won’t dare to cut in line again. This shadow is like ink spilling over.”

Compared to the excitement of his two teammates, Wu Sheng was quite calm, simply stepping aside to reveal the door to the treasure vault, then smiling slightly at Xu Wang. “We’ve been waiting for you, my captain.”

Xu Wang took a deep breath, filled with unprecedented satisfaction.

He decided not to say any modest words, as it would ruin the composure he was trying to maintain. For the first time, feeling a true sense of mission to “uphold the dignity and image of a captain”, Xu Wang strode confidently to the door of the treasure vault.

He placed his hands on the left and right doors, looked back at his teammates deeply, then turned his gaze forward and pushed with all his might!

Nothing happened.

Except for a sudden stillness in the air.

Xu Wang maintained his pushing posture, seemingly motionless but secretly exerting force in every way he knew how.

The door remained firmly closed; not even a crack appeared.

“Cough, maybe we should try ramming it together…” Qian Ai, unable to bear the sight, offered a way out for the captain.

Turning back to face his teammates, Xu Wang went through a brief but intense internal struggle, finally deciding to accept his teammate’s kindness.

“I…” Just as he turned and said a word, Xu Wang suddenly felt a tightness around his legs. Looking down, he was met with the dark face of the lighthouse keeper.

“To enter the door, step over my corpse!” The keeper, strong as an ox and with a voice as deep as a bell, clung to Xu Wang’s leg.

Xu Wang was baffled and even began to doubt life itself. “Dude, you’re already a corpse!”

The keeper snorted coldly. “You think a few little steel nails can eliminate me? Haha.”

Xu Wang: “……”

He was being humiliated by an NPC?!

“Bang—”

A loud banging noise echoed in his ears.

It was Qian Ai.

“It’s no use. We really can’t break through.” Even as he said this, Qian Ai continued to ram the door stubbornly.

Seeing this, Kuang Jinxin hurriedly joined in to help.

Xu Wang looked at Wu Sheng somewhat confusedly. “We’re not really going to have to kill someone, are we?”

“Don’t worry, leave it to me,” Wu Sheng reassured with a confident look, then bowed his head to open his [Stationery Box].

Xu Wang watched his decisive actions, feeling that their advisor seemed to have a mysterious yearning for using the [Deep Gaze of Death].

Sensing the murderous intent, the lighthouse keeper clinging to his leg suddenly screamed, “If you kill me, the treasure will disappear—”

Xu Wang froze, unsure whether this was a bluff or true. If true, they really couldn’t kill…

“It’s false.” Wu Sheng remained unmoved. “He just said that to enter, you have to step over his body. If stepping over the body is the true condition, then his current statement must be false. Otherwise, it’s logically contradictory.”

With that, he immediately tapped the icon in the toolbox with a pair of deep, affectionate eyes drawn on it.

Xu Wang watched his actions, holding his breath unconsciously. The thought of seeing a “deeply affectionate gaze from Wu Sheng” made him nervous and, cough, a bit excited.

“How many nails have I shot at you—”

Just as Wu Sheng’s fingertip was about to touch the icon, the lighthouse keeper, with all his might, threw out a question.

Wu Sheng paused.

Xu Wang was completely baffled. Was this the time for a quiz in this life-and-death situation? Was he crazy?!

Qian Ai, who was still persistently ramming the door, couldn’t stand it anymore. “What bullshit is this? We’ve run all the way up here, and now we’re supposed to go back outside and count the nails for you?!”

The lighthouse keeper ignored him and repeated, “How many nails have I shot at you?”

The tone of the second question was more severe, silent yet sharp, with a hint of provocation.

Xu Wang’s heart skipped a beat, and his first reaction was to look at Wu Sheng!

Sure enough, their advisor slowly lowered his arm, his gaze falling as he stared back at the lighthouse keeper for the first time.

Xu Wang felt a sense of despair.

Who is Wu Sheng? The more unusual the question type, the more electrifying it feels for him.

Now, even if you forced him to use the stationery, he probably wouldn’t.

But—

How many nails were shot?

Is that something a normal person could answer? Forget the rapid speed of a nail gun; even at a slower pace, who could count the rain of nails accurately?!

“The Brain…” Kuang Jinxin muttered softly by the door.

Xu Wang turned to look at him. “Huh?”

Kuang Jinxin pointed at Wu Sheng, his voice getting even softer as if afraid to disturb him, cautiously whispering to Xu Wang, “I meant that Sheng Ge’s current state and aura are just like those geniuses in the ‘The Brain’ show on TV…”

Hearing this, Xu Wang turned his attention back to his advisor.

Wu Sheng had closed his eyes at some point, his brow slightly furrowed and his eyelashes trembling slightly, indicating that his brain was working at high speed, possibly calculating, recalling the scene, or something else.

As an ordinary person, Xu Wang didn’t delve deeper. But watching Wu Sheng like this, the doubts in his heart gradually diminished, and his anticipation slowly grew. From “maybe he can”, to “he should be able to”, to “he definitely can”—that trust bloomed vigorously.

“288.” Wu Sheng slowly opened his eyes and looked down at the lighthouse keeper. “If you count the few nails you shot earlier with the stones, then it’s exactly 300.”

The lighthouse keeper looked at him incredulously, his grip on Xu Wang’s arm gradually weakening.

Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin looked at each other and once again joined forces to ram the door of the treasure vault!

“Bang—”

The door swung open in response, and dazzling golden light instantly poured out!

Propelled by inertia, Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin plunged straight into the treasure vault. Xu Wang rushed over eagerly, but as he stepped into the vault, he paused and looked back to see Wu Sheng still standing in place.

Xu Wang sighed. After all, he was the greatest contributor this time, so he shouldn’t rush him and wait instead.

In the golden glow, Wu Sheng squatted down close to the resentful face of the lighthouse keeper and gently tapped his own head with a finger. “My arrows may miss, but this,” he pointed to his brain, “never does.”

The lighthouse keeper looked at him, confusion mixing with his resentment, as if asking, “What are you talking about?”

Wu Sheng never cared about these details. He stood up and brushed off the dust from his body, feeling satisfied and content.

Turning to enter the treasure vault, he found the captain leaning casually at the door, watching him leisurely.

Wu Sheng tilted his head, eyebrows slightly raised in inquiry.

Xu Wang, for once, didn’t make a sarcastic remark but instead gave him a brilliant smile. “So handsome.”

Wu Sheng also smiled. His eyes and brows relaxed, giving off a gentlemanly demeanor. “Yeah, I know.”

“…Come in, let’s open the chest.”

Captain Xu decisively turned around, offering the greatest tenderness he could to the hero of the day.

The door to the treasure vault slowly closed after Wu Sheng entered.

Before the four men, there were three treasure chests. Two were already open and empty, and only one remained untouched. The golden light was emanating from this last intact chest, casting a magnificent glow over the entire vault.


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

Midnight Owl Ch34

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 34: Coming Ashore

Qian Ai stood on the mast, some ten meters above the deck. His feet were braced on a horizontal bar, and his back was leaning against the main mast. His arms swung in wide circles, creating a fiery spectacle that seemed to open a circular portal of time and space at the mast’s tip!

In the roaring flames, the wind began to stir.

The sails were blown taut with the wind, and the ship’s pace instantly shifted from “leisurely” to “cutting through waves” in this new era of sailing!

Qian Ai thought they might have left the sea monsters behind, but he didn’t have time to check.

Others might throw punches in a fight; he was doing the same, but it felt like he needed a vernier caliper for precision. He had to generate wind, maintain balance, swing his arms with all his might, keep the wind on course, and, most importantly, ensure the flames didn’t catch the sails.

Is this a fight or scientific research?!

“Lao Qian, Lao Qian, great job! You’re the best—”

The cheering from teammate surnamed Kuang below gave Qian Ai a subtle feeling like he was back in kindergarten, where if he swung his arms well, the auntie would give him a cookie as a reward.

Kuang Jinxin, closely observing the “flaming teammate” above, confirmed the lack of encouragement. “Captain, Qian Ge doesn’t seem to like my support.”

Xu Wang clapped his shoulder. “You’re young, so you don’t understand people’s heart.”

Releasing Kuang Jinxin, Captain Xu looked up and shouted, “Lao Qian, Lao Qian, make easy money—”

There was no response from the mast.

In the bright flames, that good wish dispersed into the sea mist.

“Whoosh—”

The flames at the top of the mast surged several meters high. The arms with strong biceps rotated so fast they were nearly invisible. The fierce wind howled in the fire, carrying the momentum of thousands of horses!

As the great wind picked up, the sails soared, and the wooden ship turned into a speedboat, cutting through wave after wave.

Kuang Jinxin clung to his spyglass, facing the oncoming gale as if riding a dark motorcycle.

Xu Wang watched the entangled sea monsters shrink into a small wave on the horizon, finally able to relax.

In the cockpit, Wu Sheng, not fully understanding the situation, gripped the helm, contentedly enjoying the thrill of “sailing”, occasionally closing his eyes to imagine beautiful lines of code refreshing before him. He took a deep breath and felt refreshed—one breath bringing clarity, two making him invincible.

About eleven minutes later, a sailboat with the soul of a speedboat rushed onto the shore of West Treasure Beach. The speed was so great that it continued another dozen meters on the sand before finally stopping, completely beached.

Two minutes later, four people disembarked from the ship, three buoyant and spirited, one with dangling arms and a vacant gaze.

“Lao Qian, cheer up!”

“You can’t ask that of a man who’s lost both arms.”

“I guarantee, with my 20/20 vision, your arms are still there.”

“But they’ve lost their soul.”

When a teammate turned into a poet, it was best to let them have some quiet time. — [Captain Xu’s Team Building Handbook]

The dark clouds hadn’t reached this small island. Under the bright blue sky, the beach shimmered with silvery light on the white sand.

Standing on this soft sand, facing the sea, one could easily feel a sense of peaceful, easy years.

However, for the four companions who had fought through wind and waves, their eyes were only fixed on the lighthouse atop a distant rock.

“We need to move quickly,” Xu Wang said, scanning the surroundings. “This island might not be just ours. Standing here on the beach is too conspicuous and unsafe.”

Wu Sheng looked back at the beached sailboat, aptly reminding him, “Considering our flashy landing, thinking about being low-key now might be a bit late.”

Xu Wang glared at him. “Can’t you say something positive?”

Wu Sheng wasn’t intentionally trying to disturb the morale of the team. He believed in realism. “Up until now, only one treasure chest has been opened, and we’ve already landed on the island. Unless something unexpected happens, we’ll definitely get a chance at the chest.”

Before he could finish what he was saying, another “ding” echoed across the Endless Sea.

[Cheat Sheet: West Treasure Beach (2/3). The second treasure vault has been opened.]

Another team or individual had reached the top of the tower.

Right as they hadn’t yet left the beach.

One spot remained.

Looking at the message scrolling on their arms, Wu Sheng pondered for two seconds, then looked up apologetically. “The unexpected came a bit too quickly.”

Xu Wang looked earnestly at him. “From now on, please just be a quiet, handsome man.”

The reef piled a few dozen meters away was the highest point on the island, and the lighthouse of Treasure Beach West was situated on top of the reef pile. The lighthouse was completely white but glinted golden in the sunlight. On closer inspection, it turned out that there were gold stripes painted at intervals, but the lines were so fine that they could only be seen clearly up close.

Much like the lighthouse on the Flying Island topped with a winged sailboat sculpture, the Treasure Beach lighthouse was crowned with a chest symbolizing its identity—antique in design and mysterious in aura—even the keyhole gleamed golden.

The group, except for Qian Ai, who relied solely on his feet, used hands and feet to climb to the top of the rocks, surprisingly encountering no competitors. From a distance, the area appeared flat, but it was actually littered with rocks of various sizes, as if someone had tossed a basket of irregular stones onto a basketball court-sized clearing and then built a tower amidst the rubble.

The lighthouse, with its white and gold motif, had only one door at the base and a square hole near the top. Other than that, it was entirely sealed.

The four didn’t dare to approach the lighthouse rashly, instead hiding behind a large rock about seven or eight meters away, stealthily spying on the square hole at the top that suspiciously resembled a machine gun’s muzzle.

“Mao Qiping said,” Kuang Jinxin whispered, “the lighthouse guard might engage in close combat inside the door or attack from a distance from the top of the lighthouse.”

“The door and that hole above are in a straight line,” Xu Wang confirmed. “It’s for long-range attacks.”

“Is it going to be a barrage of machine guns or a volley of arrows?” Qian Ai asked.

“Let’s find out,” Wu Sheng said, picking up a pebble and hurling it with all his might toward the lighthouse door.

The pebble hit the ground with a crisp sound and then rolled forward. There was a flash of cold light from the hole at the top of the tower, and the group saw something emerge but couldn’t make it out as it was too fast, followed by the sound of rapid, piercing gunfire!

The momentary chaos soon returned to calm. In the salty sea breeze, they focused their gaze on where the pebble had rolled to find a row of long nails deeply embedded in the rock, leaving seven or eight inches sticking out. The pebble that had rolled was now pulverized under one of the nails, virtually untraceable.

“Nail gun.” Wu Sheng accurately named the “weapon” they were facing and added, “But the size of the nails is quite fierce.”

The three companions looked at the nine-inch nails and simultaneously felt a pang in their chests.

It wasn’t just fierce; these were the size of stakes used for vampires!

“Let’s give up,” Qian Ai, seeing no hope of victory and foreseeing a bloodbath, suggested. “We won’t make it far before we’re turned into sieves.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Kuang Jinxin, physically smaller than his teammates but with an optimistic fighting spirit that dwarfed them all, encouraged. “If bare hands won’t do, we can use stationery.”

“There’s no need to force our way in.” Wu Sheng suddenly stood up and reached out to Qian Ai. “Bow and arrows.”

Ever since he had successfully shot a sea monster with an arrow, Qian Ai had kept the bow and quiver strapped to his back and waist, never leaving them even when climbing up the mast to make wind. It wasn’t like he had any grand plans, but having an extra weapon made him feel more secure.

Surprised and delighted when Wu Sheng asked for them, he quickly handed over the bow. “You know how to use this? Why didn’t you say so earlier!”

“Just played with it.” Wu Sheng took the bow, pulled an arrow from Qian Ai’s quiver, and nocked it. “Let’s give it a try.”

With an arrow aimed at the tower’s top, Wu Sheng gracefully and composedly drew the bow, staring intently at the dark, square opening with a calm and sharp gaze. Xu Wang’s face remained unchanged, but his eyes saw nothing other than Wu Sheng. It was as if he had returned to those high school days when he would steal glances at this person during class. Back then, Wu Sheng would sit by the window, and whenever Xu Wang stole a look, it felt like the world consisted only of Wu Sheng and the bright, cheerful sunshine.

Finally, Wu Sheng released the arrow, and it zoomed towards the hole with a powerful twang!

Xu Wang and Kuang Jinxin held their breaths, and Qian Ai, who had just regained some feeling in his arms, clenched his fists involuntarily.

“Splat—”

The arrow struck the tower wall a considerable distance from the hole and then skewed and fell, landing haphazardly on the ground.

“It’s okay. It’s been a while since you played, so you’re a bit rusty. A few tries and you’ll get better,” Xu Wang encouraged, both for his teammates and his beloved. “Lao Qian, another arrow!”

“No need.” Wu Sheng, without waiting for Qian Ai to retrieve another arrow, handed back the bow. “Apparently, I’m still no good.”

Xu Wang frowned. “Giving up so easily isn’t like you.”

Wu Sheng shook his head. “I’ve always missed when I played before. This is normal for me.”

Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Qian Ai: “……”

Xu Wang: “…Then why were you trying to act so cool just now?!”

Ignoring their grumbling advisor, who insisted on trying, “just in case it works this time”, Captain Xu made a decisive call. “Use stationery.”

They hadn’t even reached the next challenge yet and had already used the [Invincible Hot Wheel]. Xu Wang didn’t want to deplete their stationery further, but they had come so far. If they were overtaken at the last moment and lost the final spot, he could vomit blood.

“Defense or offense?” Kuang Jinxin quickly responded to the captain’s call.

“Offense.” Xu Wang looked up at the top of the tower, his brows furrowing. “Defense might get us into the tower, but we still have to face the tower guard head-on. Better to use offense and finish him off once and for all.”

“That leaves me out then. I only have defense left.” Qian Ai closed his eyes, attempting to summon a flame, then shook his head after opening them. “The [Invincible Hot Wheels] has also expired.”

Xu Wang stared at his stationery box and pursed his lips. [Cao Chong Weighing the Elephant] was untested and might not even activate, and while [Chang’e Flying to the Moon] seemed like it might offer flight, before they could even reach the sky, they would probably be nailed back down to the ground.

Their hopes rested on Wu Sheng and Kuang Jinxin.

Xu Wang looked up at his teammates. Wu Sheng stepped forward. “Just get me up there, and I can use [Deep Gaze of Death] on him.”

Kuang Jinxin followed suit. “[Hit Me If You Dare] sounds pretty arrogant. Maybe it’ll work against the nail gun!”

Xu Wang grasped Kuang Jinxin’s hand without a second of hesitation. “I’m relying on you.”

Kuang Jinxin nodded firmly. “Don’t worry, captain, I’ll definitely take him down!”

Exiting his own [Stationery Box], Advisor Wu felt a tinge of melancholy.

Hiding behind a large rock, Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, and Qian Ai slightly retreated, giving their teammate enough space to maneuver.

Kuang Jinxin took a deep breath and solemnly pressed the little grimacing icon in his [Stationery Box] — [(Offense) Hit Me If You Dare].

The moment his fingertip touched his skin, a layer of crystal-clear membrane rose from the ground at Kuang Jinxin’s feet, gradually enveloping his entire body along his contours and finally closed at the top of his head. The membrane, like jelly, slightly swayed with the sea breeze and occasionally refracted a bit of rainbow light under the sun.

Before the three companions had time to speak, the membrane suddenly disappeared.

Like a soap bubble bursting in sunlight, it vanished without a trace.

The onlooking friends were a bit baffled, but Kuang Jinxin’s gaze was resolute. “Captain, I’m ready.”

Who knows what effects these stationaries will give? Since Kuang Jinxin said so, Xu Wang chose to believe.

“Be careful.”

“Got it.”

Kuang Jinxin slowly stepped out from behind the rock, advancing toward the lighthouse door. His steps weren’t fast, but each one was firm.

The three companions stood still. Although they trusted their teammate, they couldn’t help but feel a tug at their hearts thinking of those long nails resembling wooden stakes.

A flash of cold light!

Far more nails than before shot out from the muzzle, whistling through the air, heading straight for Kuang Jinxin’s face!

The three companions instinctively held their breath!

Halfway there, Kuang Jinxin suddenly stopped, abruptly looking up as if to face the incoming nails!

In a flash, the torrential rain of nails reached him. From the perspective of the three friends behind the rock, the tip of the nail almost touched Kuang Jinxin’s forehead!

But the unexpected happened.

The nails didn’t continue forward but inexplicably stopped right in front of Kuang Jinxin’s forehead, the tip almost touching his skin but not moving a millimeter further, as if it had flown over ten or twenty meters just to give Kuang Jinxin a “mosquito bite”.

The subsequent dense nails, just like their “predecessor”, halted at the last moment, as if they were under a “freeze spell”.

The nails were halted, but not Kuang Jinxin.

He patiently waited until the last nail stopped, then took a deep breath and charged towards the “nail rain”, or rather, towards the dark mouth of the lighthouse tower aligned in a diagonal line with them and roared. “Ahhhhhh—”

Although the roar sounded more like a scream, the nails, as if bewitched, turned around in the roar and rushed back towards the lighthouse muzzle with even faster and sharper speed than before!

“Bam, bam, bam—”

Numerous nails densely embedded into the walls around the muzzle, and the central part of the curtain-like nail rain, without missing a single one, shot right into the muzzle!

“Urgh…”

A painful moan came from the muzzle, and then, silence.

The three companions behind the big rock finally realized that [Hit Me If You Dare] was a rebound of damage!

“Captain!” Kuang Jinxin ran back, beaming with joy, nowhere near as imposing as before. “It’s done!”

Xu Wang was stunned. Rebounding damage was indeed powerful, but it wouldn’t instantly kill, right?

“Are you sure?” Qian Ai asked, half-doubtful.

Clearly, it wasn’t just Captain Xu who was unsure.

Without asking, Wu Sheng picked up another stone and threw it with force. The stone landed next to the initial row of nails, rolling out again, but this time it rolled far, and there was no movement from the lighthouse’s muzzle.

“Actions speak louder than words.” Advisor Wu certified the teammate’s achievement.

The dust had settled.

Even the sea breeze became calm and serene.


The author has something to say:

Invincible Hot Wheels: The whole process is scalding hot and swinging your arms until broken.

Hit Me If You Dare: Shout out loud, accurate kill.

Qian Ai laments: The user experience varies so much with all these reward stationaries. It’s simply a distortion of human nature and a loss of morality! TAT


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

Midnight Owl Ch33

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 33: Sea Monsters

The ship had long set sail, and no one spoke on the deck. The gray-white fog blanketed the vast sea, shrouding the hearts of those aboard as well.

Everything in the world is multi-dimensional.

They see one side, while others see another.

They thought they were hard-pressed, but it turns out they should be grateful—grateful to be free from worries, still young and vigorous, able to let go and set off whenever they wish.

“What’s with the long faces?” Wu Sheng, having steadied the helm in the right direction, came out of the cockpit and saw his three teammates enveloped in gloom. “What did Mao Qiping say? Is there a surprise in this route?”

Immediately guessing it had something to do with Mao Qiping was a testament to Classmate Wu’s exceptional wisdom. As for the completely off-target conclusion, it was typical for Advisor Wu, who rarely followed conventional thought patterns.

Xu Wang couldn’t help but look at his classmate, who didn’t understand the atmosphere of the duck at all.

Wu Sheng looked back at him, his head tilted in a confused frown, which suddenly made him seem adorably clueless.

The gray fog in Xu Wang’s heart suddenly lifted.

He realized for the first time that having Wu Sheng, who always stayed in his own channel, was actually quite nice. He was rational and pragmatic, focused on the matter at hand without wandering into pointless ponderings. His gaze was always on the peak ahead, making you unconsciously focus along with him, ready and eager to proceed.

“Is the course alright now?” Xu Wang skipped the topic of Mao Qiping and threw a new question.

This question hit right at Wu Sheng’s interests. He immediately smiled slightly, his eyes beaming with an “I have the world in my grasp” reflected in them. “Of course, leave the steering to me, and…”

“Xiao Kuang—” Xu Wang suddenly turned and called out to Kuang Jinxin. “This spyglass is yours. Report anything unusual at any time.”

Kuang Jinxin stood at attention. “Roger!”

As Kuang Jinxin dashed to the stern, Wu Sheng felt mixed emotions. “It’s polite to let people finish talking.”

Xu Wang turned back to him. “Proceed. Just omit the self-praise.”

Wu Sheng: “……”

After a wordless two seconds, Advisor Wu, deprived of his only pleasure, turned and went back to the cockpit dispiritedly.

Qian Ai, who had been watching the whole process, finally found the opportunity to express his feelings. “How the tables have turned. Back in high school, he had you under his thumb, and now it’s the other way around.”

Xu Wang doubted they experienced the same three years. “Back then, I was at least a bit taller than him, wasn’t I? Not to mention, I can beat two of him. At least we were evenly matched.”

Qian Ai shook his head in disagreement. “You can’t just count physical strength. You have to include intelligence.”

Xu Wang: “……”

Qian Ai, completely unaware of undermining his captain’s self-esteem, suddenly looked around, puzzled. “Is it getting darker?”

Xu Wang paused, then looked up. Indeed.

The dense fog already made visibility and light poor, but when they met Mao Qiping, it was still a “not very bright day”. Now, however, dark clouds covered the sky. In the moments they looked up, the dark clouds turned to black, barely letting through any light. The surrounding fog was absorbed into this darkness, leaving the sea a vast expanse of blackness.

“Xiao Kuang, can you still see the lighthouse?” Wu Sheng’s inquiry came from the cockpit.

“I can,” Kuang Jinxin replied, peering through the telescope. “The lighthouse is lit. It’s actually more visible now.”

“Good, keep an eye on it—”

“No problem. It can’t escape!”

With one at the helm and the other on lookout, the two had become a team in sync.

Xu Wang and Qian Ai glanced at each other, and without a word, each took a position on one side of the deck railing.

As the four companions settled into their roles, the sea became even quieter, with only the sound of the ship cutting through the water as the backdrop.

Suddenly, a light, warm and conspicuous, rose on the deck, brightening in the increasingly dark sky.

Xu Wang, Wu Sheng, and Kuang Jinxin, keeping watch, all turned simultaneously from their respective positions to see Qian Ai raising one arm like the Statue of Liberty. Instead of a torch, he clenched his fist, and a small fireball appeared.

“Can you control the size of the flame too?” Xu Wang had thought the [Invincible Hot Wheels] meant being engulfed in flames.

“More than size, I can control the intensity!” Qian Ai actually just discovered this himself and enthusiastically demonstrated it for his teammates. “Look, the fire’s big now, and now it’s small. What do you prefer—a bonfire party atmosphere or the ambiance of a candlelight dinner? Just ask—”

Xu Wang: “……”

Wu Sheng: “……”

Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Watching their teammate play with the flame, growing and shrinking it joyfully, the three felt neither the warmth of a bonfire nor the romance of candlelight. The only thing that came to mind was a gas stove, particularly one with an unstable gas supply.

Suddenly, a song floated over the night sea, low and melodic.

It was as if a woman was humming and singing in a foreign language. The notes pierced through the thick, dark fog to reach the ship and the ears of the voyagers, carrying the smell of seawater and the mistiness of the fog.

Qian Ai quickly extinguished the fire.

The ship then blended into the protective color of the darkness.

The four companions, steadfast at their posts, gathered their spirits and became alert.

[First head due north, and when encountering the first sea monster, sail straight towards the lighthouse.]

This was the strategy given by Mao Qiping, and now, having sailed due north for a considerable time, they were due to encounter the first sea monster.

The boat moved slowly forward, and the gentle lapping of the waves grew clearer and more enchanting with a low hum and singing.

The tension in each of the four companions stretched to its limit.

Being suddenly attacked isn’t terrifying; what’s terrifying is knowing a ghost will appear but not knowing when it will spring forth—that anxious and unbearable waiting.

Qian Ai was getting antsy. He grabbed the railing with one hand and clutched the spear inherited from Wu Sheng with the other. His palms were soaked with sweat.

When scared, he tended to talk, like walking alone in a dark stairwell and wanting to play some divine music on his phone for courage. “Have you guys seen Pirates of the Caribbean? There’s one with mermaids that use this kind of singing to lure and kill sailors.”

The suffocating silence was broken. Xu Wang, who was facing away from him, also briefly exhaled, relaxing the hand that had become somewhat numb from gripping the ax. “Are you suggesting this sea monster is a mermaid?”

“Or a water nymph.” Qian Ai considered all possibilities. “Like those exceptionally beautiful female sirens—tender, mysterious, dangerous, slowly kissing you while killing you in the midst of caresses and entanglements…”

Xu Wang: “……”

Despite the brutal nature of the act, why did it sound like a kink activity when his teammate described it? =_=

“There’s light ahead!” Kuang Jinxin, responsible for the lookout, mostly kept his eyes on the lighthouse but occasionally scanned the surroundings. This time, he spotted a faint light amidst the fog.

Xu Wang and Qian Ai rushed to the bow and looked ahead.

In the direction of the boat’s advance, about a dozen meters away, a dim, warm light illuminated a palm-sized area.

“A lantern-carrying siren.” Qian Ai, gazing ahead, was very certain. “Japanese ghost stories always have such specters—a beauty in a kimono on a snowy night, carrying a lantern, knocking on doors in the countryside to ask for shelter.”

“……” Captain Xu didn’t know how to respond to his teammate’s broad knowledge.

“If it’s really a beauty, tell me, should I burn her or not?” Qian Ai was genuinely distressed.

Xu Wang, in the darkness, rolled his eyes skyward. “If you don’t burn her, she’ll kill you.”

Qian Ai knew the logic but lamented, “I can’t bring myself to do it—”

As they spoke, the boat drew closer to the light, close enough to make out the glowing object.

It was indeed a delicate little lantern.

The top of the lantern extended into a thin, curved line, as if someone was carrying the lantern on this single hard thread. The other end of the thread, along with whoever was holding it, was hidden in the darkness.

The boat was now less than ten meters from the lantern.

“Qian Ai,” Xu Wang suddenly said. “Light up.”

Whoosh—the flames leaped up.

The “Statue of Liberty” reappeared.

The fire, many times more powerful than the faint glow, illuminated the whole boat and the surrounding area of ten meters.

The other end of the lantern, finally under the scrutiny of the four, revealed its true form.

A five-meter-long fish monster, half above water, half below, with a large head and bulging eyes. A line sprouted from its forehead, holding up the lantern. The delicate lantern contrasted sharply with the creature’s roughness.

“Lao Qian.” Xu Wang swallowed nervously, facing the imminent threat while comforting his teammate. “It is indeed carrying a lantern—pretty much as you imagined.”

Qian Ai was on the verge of tears. “Who the hell cares about the lantern! My focus was on the beauty, the beauty!”

Amidst the shattering of romantic fantasies, the lantern fish monster suddenly accelerated, charging straight at the bow!

Its mouth rapidly opened as it approached, like a snake, widening to a degree larger than its head, revealing rows of serrated, sharp teeth!

Qian Ai’s one arm blazed with flames, and the other gripped the spear tightly while Xu Wang swung his ax, ready to clash with the lantern fish monster at close quarters!

“Ding—”

The notification rang inappropriately.

Xu Wang gritted his teeth. To look or not to look—that was the question!

“Ignore the sea monster. Everyone, hold on tight—” Wu Sheng’s shout suddenly came from the cockpit.

As Xu Wang and Qian Ai prepared for battle, bewildered, and Kuang Jinxin, guarding the spyglass, also puzzled, the boat suddenly made a full-speed sharp turn!

Xu Wang and Qian Ai were almost thrown into the sea. Fortunately, they grabbed the railing at the last moment!

Kuang Jinxin clung to the fixed tripod of the spyglass, steady as a mountain.

Wu Sheng’s maneuvering turned the ship in a graceful 135° turn just as it was less than five meters from the lantern fish monster, avoiding a collision and completely changing their course!

The lantern fish monster bit into empty water, then strained to swim and shifted from an oncoming force to a trailing pursuit.

“Where are we heading—” Xu Wang, unable to see the path ahead, could only ask the helmsman.

Wu Sheng struggled to adjust the direction. “To the lighthouse!”

Just as Xu Wang was about to ask further, Qian Ai, still holding his fiery arm aloft, spoke up first. “Are we not fighting the sea monster?”

“The condition for turning was ‘encountering the first sea monster’, not ‘defeating the first sea monster’,” came Wu Sheng’s resounding answer from the cockpit. As a programmer, he understood the importance of clear and precise conditionals.

Qian Ai was at a loss for words.

Damn, that actually makes sense. TAT

Xu Wang rubbed his face, relieved he hadn’t been the one to ask.

“Ding—”

“Ding—”

Two four-in-one new information notifications rang out back to back. Along with the previous one, in just the short time it took for the ship to turn, three new messages had arrived.

Both Xu Wang and Qian Ai, on their way to the stern, didn’t stop but simultaneously raised their arms to check.

[Cheat Sheet: East Treasure Beach (1/3). The first treasure vault has been opened.]

[Cheat Sheet: West Treasure Beach (1/3). The first treasure vault has been opened.]

[Cheat Sheet: North Flying Island (2/3). The second ship has sailed into the clouds.]

Though mentally prepared, the late-starting team hoped at best for the last spot to ascend the lighthouse. But seeing the second message, Xu Wang’s heart still skipped a beat.

People always think about “what if”. What if all the ships heading to West Treasure Beach encountered the toughest sea monsters? What if all their competing teams were as mediocre as the earlier group they encountered?

But the world doesn’t cater to so many “what ifs”.

Two spots remained at West Treasure Beach.

“The ones who chose South Flying Island made a good choice,” Qian Ai said with a hint of envy. “No one’s going that way at all.”

“According to probability, it’s more likely that those who chose that route are buried at sea halfway there.” In the cockpit of the ship’s bow, which was almost a whole deck away, Advisor Wu enthusiastically corrected his teammate’s misconception.

Qian Ai was speechless. “Are you clairvoyant or something?!”

The sea breeze picked up slightly, giving the sails more force and unknowingly increasing the ship’s speed.

In the midst of their conversation, Xu Wang and Qian Ai had reached the stern. Before they could observe, Kuang Jinxin, responsible for the lookout near and far, reported first. “It seems to be losing steam…”

Kuang Jinxin was stating facts.

In the flickering firelight, the lantern fish monster had fallen significantly behind the stern, far more than could be accounted for by the increased speed of the ship due to the stronger winds. Looking closely at its movement, it indeed appeared slower than before.

However…

Xu Wang leaned close to the stern railing, observing the fish monster more intently. He noticed it wasn’t swimming consistently but rather would swim quickly a couple of times, then pause, and then chase the ship again before stopping. Rather than its speed decreasing, its movements became intermittent, as if it was hesitant or wary, not daring to boldly pursue.

The question was: Qian Ai’s fire hadn’t even touched it, so what was it afraid of?

“Captain…” Normally, Qian Ai would only use this term to refer to his old classmate when he’s nervous. “Doesn’t the ship feel less stable than before?”

Prompted by Qian Ai, Xu Wang realized it was indeed rocking more violently.

This wasn’t Wu Sheng’s fault, as he had steadied the ship after the sharp turn earlier. The increased rocking was due to the waves.

Under the ship, the waves had intensified.

Just as Xu Wang thought this, a huge impact force from below suddenly lifted their entire ship with a “bang” into the air!

After soaring two or three meters, the ship heavily fell back into the water. The three at the stern clung desperately to anything they could grab, while Wu Sheng in the cockpit hugged the helm tight, preventing himself from being flung into the sea!

In the suddenly raging waves, continuous “bangs” hit the bottom of the boat. Though not as intense as the first, they still jolted everyone aboard.

Something was hitting their ship from below!

Realizing this, Wu Sheng made another quick turn!

The ship beautifully glided in the water, shifting from vertical to horizontal!

The next second, the “something” that failed to change direction in time and missed its target, emerged from the water with massive inertia, leaping into the air!

In the firelight, its immense size, several times larger than a whale, nearly eclipsed the sky. Its body was covered in armor-like scales, gleaming a cold green hue.

The three at the stern widened their eyes in horror!

They had seen this fish-crocodile-like monster before. It was the same one that had attacked the magic carpet earlier!

Xu Wang suddenly realized the erratic chase of the lantern fish monster wasn’t due to fear of them, but rather of it!

As the monster reached its peak and swiftly fell, it crashed heavily into the water, raising enormous waves!

The water surged over them. The three at the stern held their breath, enduring the wave without choking. But they were completely soaked from head to toe.

Under Wu Sheng’s control, the ship righted itself and continued to cut through the waves.

However, there was no further movement from the sea monster that had crashed into the water at the stern.

One second.

Two seconds.

Ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

The ship had already sailed some distance when suddenly something floated up where the sea monster had fallen.

Qian Ai, instinctively, intensified the blazing fire.

The floating white mass finally became clear—it was the lantern fish monster, belly-up, motionless.

“No way.” Qian Ai swallowed hard. “It kills its own kind too?”

Before he could finish speaking, a row of dorsal fins emerged from the water and pushed aside the corpse of the lantern fish monster.

They recognized the fins of the fish-crocodile monster anywhere, even if turned to ash.

Without giving them a moment to breathe, the fins headed straight for the stern of their ship, coming at a speed that had been enough to kill the lantern fish monster!

“Wu Sheng!” Xu Wang shouted. “Speed up—”

“Shouting at me won’t help. You need to call the wind—” Wu Sheng was always attentive to the situation, knowing they needed to accelerate, but the only control the helmsman had on this ship was direction! Such high-level tricks as summoning wind and rain were left to the heavens.

Unfortunately, the heavens didn’t intervene.

The wind remained the same, but the sea monster was getting closer.

“Whoosh—”

The sea monster broke the surface again, its mouth wide enough to swallow half their ship, charging straight at them. Its dense, sharp teeth were chilling to the bone!

Qian Ai had turned himself into a fireball. Xu Wang swung his ax and thrust the spear to Kuang Jinxin.

Three men stood ready, resigned to their fate.

Just as they steeled themselves for a desperate struggle, Wu Sheng made another sharp turn!

The sea monster, caught off guard, barely managed to reach the stern’s edge, biting off a few railings before falling back into the water!

“Don’t clash head-on with it. Too risky,” Wu Sheng shouted. “Our goal is the lighthouse. The best solution is to try to delay and maneuver as much as possible—”

Xu Wang was torn.

He also wanted to maneuver and delay, but the sea monster was keen on a confrontation!

Wait?

Xu Wang suddenly felt his body lurch and stagger to the left!

It wasn’t just him. Qian Ai and Kuang Jinxin also lost their balance!

All three slammed into the left railing, barely stabilizing themselves when they realized it wasn’t a sudden loss of balance but rather the ship tilting severely to the left!

“Grilled Squid—” Kuang Jinxin suddenly screamed.

Xu Wang and Qian Ai, following his gaze, saw a row of charred tentacles clinging to the left railing of the deck, pulling the ship to the left!

It was a case of misfortune upon misfortune. One problem hadn’t been resolved when another arrived!

Thanks to the octopus monster, the ship was pulled to a halt, halving its speed.

The next instant, it emerged from the water, revealing its huge, smooth octopus head for the first time!

Compared to size, the lantern fish monster was dwarfed by just the octopus’ head, which meant it wasn’t much smaller than the fish-crocodile monster.

But Xu Wang and Qian Ai had no time to admire it. They dashed to the left railing of the deck—one mercilessly chopping with an ax, the other burning fiercely with fire!

This time, though, the octopus monster seemed determined. It dodged and resisted, not retreating but moving along the railing, engaging in a battle of attrition. As they moved to try to deal with the tentacles, it would retreat away from them. Round after round, its tentacles remained, but more of its body emerged from the water.

Is this creature versed in the Art of War and came back seeking revenge?!

“Xu Wang—” Wu Sheng suddenly shouted.

Xu Wang, already frantic, became even more distressed. “Lao Qian and I were fighting, but it changed tactics. It’s not trying to drag us down but to board the ship—”

Wu Sheng had initially planned on executing Tactic A for his teammates, but upon hearing Xu Wang say the octopus monster was trying to board the ship, he immediately switched to Tactic B. “Use barbarians against barbarians*—”

*(以夷制夷) Idiom referring to leveraging foreign or external forces to subdue or control another foreign threat (AKA Fight poison with poison). 

“Barbecued” Qian Ai was baffled by these sophisticated words. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Lao Qian.” Xu Wang stopped his ax, making a swift decision. “Stop burning.”

Qian Ai incredulously looked at his captain. “You understood that?!”

“Yes, stop burning, and come over here!” Without time for explanations, Xu Wang pulled Qian Ai to the other side of the deck, away from the tentacles, and told him to hold tight.

“Xiao Kuang, hold on tight—” Xu Wang shouted to Kuang Jinxin.

Finally, Qian Ai realized that the captain and the advisor had indeed communicated effectively and clearly.

This must be some fucking high-tech stuff!

“Captain.” Kuang Jinxin’s voice came from the stern, not in response but in urgency. “That monster is charging again—”

He was referring to the fish-crocodile monster.

“Don’t bother with it,” Xu Wang shouted back. “Just hold on tight—”

The moment the word “tight” was uttered, the ship suddenly turned!

Due to the octopus monster clinging on, the turn was slower, but the ship still sliced through the water and slowly drifted sideways.

The fish-crocodile monster had already leapt up, and the octopus monster had half of its body out of the water. However, under Wu Sheng’s direction, the left railing, which was initially at the stern, rotated to the original position of the stern. The fish-crocodile monster’s bite, accurate and forceful, latched onto the octopus monster’s head!

Both sea monsters plunged into the water together. Under the massive force of their struggle, the tentacle suction cups tore off the entire left railing!

Fortunately, the ship itself was unharmed, continuing to bob strongly amidst the turbulent waves!

Qian Ai finally grasped the meaning of “use barbarians against barbarians”. The historical phrase “use barbarians against barbarians” he learned in history class suddenly came back to him.

But… couldn’t they have just said, “Pit the sea monsters against each other”?

In the giant waves, the two entangled sea monsters rose and fell, but it was clear to anyone watching that the octopus monster was about to join the lantern fish monster for a tea party in just a matter of time.

With little time left, Xu Wang could only urge Wu Sheng again, “Can we go any faster?”

Wu Sheng, out of energy even to shout, turned back, imploring, “I said we need the wind—the wind…”

The wind.

In Wu Sheng’s repeated emphasis, Xu Wang had an epiphany.

“Lao Qian.” Captain Xu suddenly looked up, his eyes shining. “Isn’t your thing called ‘Invincible Hot Wheels’? I’ve seen the fire, but where’s the wind*?”

*Clarity: The original text is (无敌风火轮) which transliterated means Invincible Wind and Fire Wheel equating it to “(Invincible) Hot Wheels”. This is referencing hot wheels given that his other item (Mr. Thirteen of the Middle Ring) is a reference to drag racing. This is why Xu Wang is asking about the “wind” component.

“This…” Qian Ai, looking at his desperately hopeful captain, was at a loss for words. “Calling it Hot Wheels is just to make this weapon sound more impressive…”

“No,” Captain Xu firmly shook his head. “From my observations, I can responsibly say that every word in these magical tools is meaningful.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’. Just try swinging your arms.”

With no other choice, Qian Ai reluctantly swung his right arm, still ablaze with fire.

Captain Xu didn’t feel any wind, but he nearly had his hair singed off.

Qian Ai sighed. “I told you…”

“What about swinging both arms together?”

“……”

With a captain so tenaciously hopeful, what else could he do?

Swing it is.

Qian Ai closed his eyes and focused. His other arm was instantly engulfed in flames.

Taking two deep breaths, he swung both arms together!

A warm breeze, carrying the heat, brushed against their faces, lifting the hair on Captain Xu’s forehead and fluttering Kuang Jinxin’s collar further away.

Qian Ai stopped swinging his arms, his face full of astonishment.

Xu Wang patted his shoulder in satisfaction. “Lao Qian, get up the mast and start swinging.”


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

Midnight Owl Ch32

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 32: Sadness

From content to strategy, from key points to additional reminders, Wu Sheng condensed all the information given by Mao Qiping about the 3/23 level, streamlined it, and entered it into his phone’s memo, which was still densely packed, taking up the entire screen.

Xu Wang listened attentively throughout and then took Wu Sheng’s phone to consolidate the memory from beginning to end, truly feeling that the 400 yuan price was a conscience in the industry.

After finishing the third level, they were about to come to the most important current part—the Endless Sea.

“The four lighthouses represent four shipping destinations. The lighthouse on the Treasure Beach of the east and west contains a treasure chest that can reveal money or stationery. The lighthouses on the North and South Flying Islands contain airships, which can be used to fly to any coordinates…”

Mao Qiping had just started when a five-in-one “ding” sounded simultaneously from above and below the ship—

[Cheat Sheet: North Flying Island (1/3). The first ship has sailed into the clouds.]

The four people looking at the scrolling information on their arms were all startled. Has someone already reached the destination and even successfully entered the lighthouse? And what does the (1/3) in the brackets mean?

Seemingly accustomed to such questions, Mao Qiping didn’t wait for anyone on the ship to speak and directly clarified, “A team or an individual has already reached the North Flying Island and breached the lighthouse. There are two more spots available there.”

“There?” Xu Wang caught the nuance.

“Each of the four destinations has three spots for ascending the lighthouse—first come, first served,” Mao Qiping said. “Once the spots are filled, the lighthouse will close directly, and landing on the island will be useless.”

“That is too fast…” Qian Ai glanced at his phone. It had been just an hour since they entered, and it felt like an exam. You are still working on the multiple-choice questions, and someone else has already submitted their paper.

Mao Qiping was no longer surprised. “The teams that choose Flying Island are basically well-prepared and aimed at the next level, so of course, they are fast. However, the good thing about the Endless Sea is that there is no punishment for failing the competition; just a night of busywork for nothing.”

“Can individuals also ascend the lighthouse?” Wu Sheng was concerned about what Mao Qiping had just said about “a team or an individual”.

“Yes, the Endless Sea is different from other levels. Whether you form a team or not, it treats everyone equally. Individuals also count as a team, and after ascending the lighthouse, they occupy one spot.” Mao Qiping affirmed, then changed the topic. “But it is difficult for an individual to compete with a team. Firstly, the speed of a floating ball is far less than that of a ship, and secondly, if you encounter other teams on the island, the odds of winning the competition to ascend the lighthouse are slim.”

“Understood.” Wu Sheng nodded and closed his eyes to meditate.

The other three partners looked at each other. Ah, he’s updating his notes again.

“Back to the lighthouse,” Mao Qiping continued. “The functions of the two Flying Islands are the same, as are those of Treasure Beach. The difference lies in the direction of the routes. So, do you want to open the treasure chest now or go to the next coordinate point?”

Xu Wang understood. Mao Qiping was going to provide them with strategies for the routes and lighthouses based on their choice. After all, they had only paid for one route and couldn’t expect him to cover all four.

Regarding the choice of route, the four people had already discussed it earlier. Xu Wang quickly reconfirmed with his partners and looked down to give Mao Qiping the answer. “Treasure Beach. We’ll open the treasure chest!”

Previously, they had only guessed from the name “Treasure Beach” that they might get treasures. Now it was confirmed that there was a 100% chance of winning a prize; the only question was what the specific prize would be. Therefore, Captain Xu’s voice couldn’t help but reveal excitement about “Money, oh money, here we come!” and the determination to “make back the money spent on the strategy guide!”

“East or west?” Mao Qiping asked again.

“Which side has fewer people?”

“Go west, because many teams feel that ‘fortune comes from the east*’ and is luckier than the west.”

*Purple Air comes from the east (紫气东来) Idiom referring an auspicious omen or the arrival of a noble person. In olden days, it usually signifies the arrival of a sage or emperor. Nowadays, it’s used to suggest good luck or the arrival of good news.

“Then we’ll go west!”

“……” Mao Qiping scratched his chin, thought for a while, and finally caught on. He had, perhaps, been tricked into giving out a free piece of information!

This business they were doing was truly filled with blood and tears.

“West Treasure Beach” route strategy: ① After choosing the route, the ship will automatically sail, but the direction must be steered by the people on board; ② First head due north, and when encountering the first sea monster, sail straight towards the lighthouse, which means the optimal route is a zigzag, not a straight line. Otherwise, the probability of encountering sea monsters increases greatly; ③ Avoid being too close to other ships to prevent attacks, as there are only three spots available.

“West Treasure Beach” lighthouse strategy: ① There will be a keeper inside the lighthouse who must be defeated to reach the treasure chamber at the top of the lighthouse; ② The keeper’s weapons and position change daily, so it’s still unknown what the keeper’s defense will be like today, but known forms include guarding the entrance with brute force, hiding inside for sneak attacks, hiding at a vantage point for throwing explosive projectiles, indiscriminate machine-gun firing, and other forms with varying ranges and lethality; ③ There’s no absolute necessity between defeating the keeper and opening the treasure chest. Other competing teams can completely benefit from others’ efforts, so don’t let your guard down before reaching the treasure chamber.

Regarding the route and the attack on the tower, Mao Qiping explained a lot in detail, but in summary, those were the key points.

The fog began to spread around, and while the vast expanse remained, visibility improved nearby.

“The guide is only for not going into battle unprepared. Whether you can actually attack the lighthouse and snatch one of the three spots is up to you.” Having said too much in one go, Mao Qiping’s throat was smoking. After summarizing his speech, he unscrewed his thermos and began to gulp down a drink.

Xu Wang also wanted the other party to rest, but time waits for no one, so he quickly said, “About the daily level grinding tips and experience sharing…”

“I know, I know.” Mao Qiping didn’t mind. He quickly put down his thermos and looked up. “The things to pay attention to are the same old stories. First, companionship. At any time, do not underestimate the teams you encounter. No matter how kind they appear, in this day and age, you might not intend harm, but others may harbor ill intentions towards you; second, do not assume anything. Even if you have passed a level twenty times, the twenty-first could be different; third, don’t misuse stationery. Save one, and it might save your life at a critical moment…”

“As for experience, well, it’s not really experience. It’s just that I’ve seen too many people on this Endless Sea. Consider it a bit of personal insight.” Mao Qiping smiled, losing the shrewdness of a businessman and gaining a bit of sincere friendliness. “No matter which level you’re at, if you’re not ready, it’s better to stay a while longer at the previous level or in the Endless Sea rather than rushing forward. It will be a very long journey to the endpoint, and you must be steady and methodical at every step.”

“Understood.” Xu Wang lowered his head and looked at him earnestly. “As long as we encounter other teams, losing the competition means returning to the starting point. It’s better to prepare for a few more days than to act impulsively and suffer more than you gain.”

“The starting point?” Mao Qiping was puzzled. “Who sold you such a deceitful piece of fake news?”

“Not the starting point?” Not only Xu Wang, but the other three were also surprised. Although they hadn’t paid, in the current situation inside the cabin at the time, Log Legs, Handsome, Stick Figure, and Fair Face didn’t need to lie about something that would be disproved upon one experience, right?

“Not the starting point,” Mao Qiping clarified. “You will only go back three levels. For example, if you fail in 7/23, next time you will have to start over from 4/23.”

Wu Sheng asked, “What if we don’t go back and just stay at the original coordinates of 7/23?”

“You’ll still be sucked in at midnight, but the level 7/23 won’t appear,” Mao Qiping explained. “Instead, it will be the Endless Sea of that province.”

Wu Sheng: “The Endless Sea is divided by provinces. What about the levels? How much area around a coordinate is considered within the level?”

Mao Qiping: “Levels are by city. As long as you enter the city where the current level’s coordinates are, you are no longer in the Endless Sea.”

Wu Sheng: “Are the levels uniquely opened?”

Mao Qiping: “No, there are three. The most recent level where a paper was successfully submitted and the current new level you can challenge—both are open. Besides the first level, which is always open, even if you reach the coordinates of other levels, it will still be the Endless Sea of that province.”

Wu Sheng: “What if I happen to stand on the border of two provinces…”

“Wait a minute.” Mao Qiping raised his hand, indicating that Wu Sheng should stop talking. He lowered his head and pondered for a moment, finally realizing he was about to disclose all the basic rules.

The problem was these people didn’t buy any rules except for injury and death!

Although the captain with a smiling demeanor was harsh in bargaining, at least it was a deal made willingly by both sides. This handsome young man, however, seemed to be getting everything for nothing! Even more fatal was that at the moment of being asked, he was completely drawn into the other’s rhythm, never considering the matter of money. All his energy was focused on understanding the “extremely academic description of the questions” and was proud to penetrate it.

This person, no, this team is toxic! TAT

“Choose your route quickly.” Mao Qiping just wanted to see the customers off now. “Otherwise, the spots will all be filled soon.”

Wu Sheng sighed inaudibly, regretting the sudden end of such a smooth conversation.

“Xiao Mao…” Xu Wang suddenly leaned out halfway, maximally closing the distance between them.

Mao Qiping swallowed nervously and looked at him warily. “Huh?”

Xu Wang smiled brightly. “After eating at a restaurant, they usually give a fruit plate or something…”

Mao Qiping narrowed his eyes, wondering whether to pick these people up with his extendable pole and throw them into the sea.

“We’ll take an orange. We’re not picky!”

“……”

Mao Qiping had seen all sorts of teams after drifting on the sea for a year: serene, irritable, sloppy, elite, despondent, relentlessly forward-moving, but never one like this before.

When you think about it, one moment you want to sink their ship, and the next, you can’t bring yourself to be angry at them. You might even find yourself unconsciously envying them, thinking, “If only I could be like that too.”

Mao Qiping wanted to find a particularly high-level word to describe these guys, but after searching, he could only come up with one.

Equanimity.

In this hellish place, despair and excitement are easy, but the hardest thing is to remain yourself—to maintain equanimity.

“I’ve already lost so much; what’s one more orange.” Mao Qiping sighed heavily, indicating his “hardship in business”, but what he said was all practical advice, “If you can take a green train, don’t take a bullet train or an airplane. First, it saves money—a little bit goes a long way—and second, objectively, it already extends the period between two levels. Normally, you might finish the old level one day and start the new one the next, but if you take a sleeper, you might get an extra night’s rest. Sleep on the train, sleep in the Endless Sea, and ensure you’re energized for the next level, saving a night’s hotel stay.”

Xu Wang smirked. “So the key point is still to save money.”

Mao Qiping also laughed, half-jokingly, half-mockingly. “If you’re not short of money, forget what I said, but don’t tell me. Otherwise, I’ll throw your 800 into the sea in bitterness.”

“We are short of money—very short!” Xu Wang hurriedly assured.

Mao Qiping nodded in satisfaction. “Mm, that’s comforting.”

With money and goods exchanged, it was time to set off.

The four selected “West Treasure Beach” on their arms, and soon, the unmanned rudder freely turned.

The three companions looked at Wu Sheng together.

Without any other option, Advisor Wu comforted himself with “With great power comes great responsibility” and headed to the cockpit to take hold of the helm, precisely adjusting the bow to face due north.

The ship and the floating ball slowly drifted apart.

Xu Wang, Qian Ai, and Kuang Jinxin waved goodbye to Mao Qiping from the railing.

Although it was a transaction, this person was the first real friendly figure they encountered in the “Owl,” and now that they were parting, a slight sense of reluctant farewell rose in their hearts.

Qian Ai wasn’t accustomed to such delicate atmospheres, so he simply waved and joked as a farewell. “The business you do feels like we’re entering different places. We’re on Thorn Island, while you’re living the Chinese dream.”

“It’s all driven by necessity,” Mao Qiping replied with a wave, somewhat annoyed. “What else can I do—can’t get through, can’t leave.”

Qian Ai said, “But earning money this way isn’t so bad. Consider it a second job.”

Mao Qiping lowered his hand and quietly watched him.

The boat and the floating ball had already drifted a meter apart, but the salty sea breeze still carried every word Mao Qiping said to the ears of the three of them.

“Every night my wife wakes up, not knowing where her husband has gone, while my child wakes up every night, unable to find his father.”

His eyes held genuine, suppressed sorrow.

Qian Ai’s smile gradually faded, falling silent. He could joke and tease, but facing Mao Qiping like this, he didn’t know what to say.

Xu Wang suppressed the unpleasant feeling in his heart and tried to comfort him. “When you go out at five, they’ll forget what happened during the night.”

“But the torment of those five hours is real.” Mao Qiping lightly shook his head with a smile. “Every night my son cries heartbreakingly—several times he’s even gotten convulsions from it.”

His voice was very soft, but the softer it was, the more it made one’s heart tremble.

Children getting convulsions from crying can be serious or minor, with severe cases even leading to lingering effects.

As the distance between the boat and the floating ball grew, Mao Qiping’s voice became more and more faint.

“They may forget, but I remember it all… Night after night, never-ending…”

That was the last thing they heard from Mao Qiping.

After that, the floating ball, the man, and that almost imperceptible sigh, all faded into the vast sea fog.


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

Suddenly Trending Ch41

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 41

In early autumn, the plum garden was verdantly filled with greenery with no flowers in bloom. Three young men entered through the Moon Gate, their figures slowly disappearing into the lush plum trees.

The scene shifted, and the trio stood in an open area of the garden. The youth in dark clothes, usually stern, now smiled warmly. The young man in moonlight white attire looked satisfied, while the nobleman in fine clothes frowned, looking around.

“Why choose this place?” Fang Xian, not content, looked around with a critical eye.

Tang Jingyu, unable to bear it, pulled him back. “A gentleman is like a plum blossom, standing proudly amidst frost and snow. What, isn’t that worthy of you, Young Master Fang?”

Fang Xian irritably shook off Tang Jingyu’s hand, looking mournfully at the greenery. “If it’s a plum garden, it should be in bloom. Now, we only see green branches, not a hint of proud, frost-resisting plum blossoms.”

Xu Chongfei, amused and helpless by their constant bickering, quickly took responsibility. “My fault, my fault. I should have chosen a winter day for this brotherhood ceremony.”

“Don’t mind him.” Tang Jingyu, used to Fang Xian’s quirks, believed such people shouldn’t be indulged. “I think this place is perfect. Chongfei, bring the incense burner.”

Xu Chongfei, well-prepared, quickly set up the incense burner and offerings, creating a makeshift altar on the open ground. Fang Xian’s criticisms were just for fun; he wouldn’t really wait until winter.

Under the open sky and kneeling on the earth, the three bowed their heads to the ground, forming a bond stronger than kin. Unaware of the future conspiracies, entanglements, and grudges that awaited, they were simply themselves, bonding with the brothers they resonated with the most.

“Pass!”

Director Chen shouted, and the set erupted in laughter.

Everyone was surprised that such an important scene passed in one take. Makeup artists rushed to touch up the actors’ foreheads, marred by kneeling, while other crew members busily prepared for the next scene.

Director Chen remained behind the monitor, but the assistant director secretly gave the three actors a thumbs up. They notice and feel a rush of excitement.

Acting can be exhilarating, especially when deeply immersed. Ran Lin had felt this before, but opportunities to experience it were rare. For Lu Yiyao, this feeling was new and thrilling.

From this day, the three were mainly involved in scenes together, mostly dialogue-driven. The main plot revolves around Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian, under Fang Huanzhi’s orders, coming to Liuma Town to investigate the whereabouts of the “Sword of Fallen Flowers” and eventually forming a brotherhood with Xu Chongfei, the young master of Hidden Sword Tower.

Other than that, some subsequent scenes were also filmed, but as the female lead hadn’t joined yet, these were minor transitional scenes.

Every evening, the trio rehearsed together, reminiscent of dormitory study sessions before exams. Thanks to their professionalism, the shooting progressed smoothly.

A busy week flew by, and on the evening of September 12th, the female lead, Xi Ruohan, arrived at the hotel.

Xi Ruohan was slightly less popular than Lu Yiyao, but her fame and experience were no less. She rose to stardom as a leading actress when Lu Yiyao was just entering the entertainment industry.

From the beginning, Xi Ruohan was hailed for her natural acting ability. Now a woman, her aura had matured, and her acting skills had solidified. Despite rumors of diva behavior, she stood out as a naturally beautiful and talented actress in a sea of surgically enhanced faces.

Speaking through one’s work was an eternal truth in the industry. The drama that linked her and Lu Yiyao was <Yun Zhang>.

When the leads were announced, Xi Ruohan’s fans lamented the choice of Lu Yiyao, a popular but less skilled actor, instead of a male star matching their idol’s talent. At that time, Lu Yiyao’s <Ten Years of Rainy Nights> had just finished filming, and <Baihei Tree> wasn’t even completed. No one expected him to later be nominated for Best Actor. He took on the role of Yun Zhang amidst much skepticism.

The result was clear for all to see. <Yun Zhang> was a huge success, and Lu Yiyao, sharing the screen with Xi Ruohan, not only held his own but also shone brightly, different from his past roles. The audience praised the script, the actors, and the film’s quality.

Only Lu Yiyao knew that good acting was nurtured.

He learned a lot about acting from Xi Ruohan, a fact he was well aware of. Acting with her was different from Ran Lin. With Xi Ruohan, he was acutely aware of acting and observed her performance to learn and apply. However, with Ran Lin, he would forget the existence of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, as if they were meant to be Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian.

Xi Ruohan and Ran Lin were great partners, the former perhaps a bit too aggressive.

“How come you’re guarding like against a thief? I’m not going to eat you.” Xi Ruohan, carrying a pretty paper bag, stood at Lu Yiyao’s door. The host didn’t move after opening the door, so she hesitated to enter, frowning sadly.

Xi Ruohan looked thinner than before, enhancing her already delicate features. Dressed in comfortable casual wear, she seemed freshly arrived and not overly calculating.

“I’ll accept your gift.” Lu Yiyao extended his hand warmly, asking for the bag. “But I won’t invite you in; the room is too messy.”

Xi Ruohan narrowed her beautiful almond eyes, holding the gift but not handing it over. Lu Yiyao watched amusedly, unmoving.

He had experience dealing with Xi Ruohan and now could handle it with ease. Xi Ruohan, frustrated, shoved the gift bag into Lu Yiyao’s hands and stormed off to her room.

The top floor of the hotel was quiet, so her angry footsteps left a clear, muffled sound on the carpet.

Watching Xi Ruohan swipe her card and slam the door at the end of the hallway, Lu Yiyao felt relieved and closed his door.

Frankly, he didn’t dislike Xi Ruohan. She was talented and beautiful, but more importantly, she was serious and professional about acting. This alone scored high with Lu Yiyao. Moreover, she was straightforward; her pursuit of him almost caused a scandal with the paparazzi—knocking on his door at night and being turned away. For him, it was positive news, but for Xi Ruohan, even as a single woman, such news could be damaging. After all the fuss, only a few speculative gossip articles emerged, and they didn’t push hard, so Lu Yiyao’s attitude towards his fellow actress had always been polite and mild.

Inside the gift bag was a selection of exquisite Jiangnan pastries, along with a handcrafted mandarin duck comb. Xi Ruohan’s late arrival to the set was due to her busy schedule filming another major female lead role in a drama set in a town in Jiangnan. The story revolves around a family that has passed down the art of comb-making for generations. This tale is based on a real family, whose collateral branches still live in that town today. The thoughtful and detailed gift Xi Ruohan chose showed her meticulous care.

Sighing, Lu Yiyao repackaged the comb but didn’t put it back in the original paper bag. Instead, he switched it to an opaque makeup bag, making it look like a newly purchased cosmetic product. He then called over Li Tong, handing him the pastries and the makeup bag containing the comb.

“The pastries are for you to eat. Give this bag to Xi Ruohan’s assistant to pass on to her, and say it’s from me,” Lu Yiyao instructed clearly.

Li Tong was confused. “Where do I find Xi Ruohan’s assistant?”

Lu Yiyao gave him a sideways glance.

“Alright, I got it.” Li Tong stopped playing dumb but still had a question. “Lu Ge, weren’t you always… Have you changed your mind now?”

Lu Yiyao looked at his assistant with exasperation. “With your gossiping skills, it’s a pity you’re not a paparazzo.”

Li Tong took the hint and went downstairs with the gift bag. He certainly knew Xi Ruohan’s assistant. In fact, during the <Yun Zhang> period, she approached him first, trying to get information about Lu Yiyao.

Later, he realized that it was Xi Ruohan who was interested in Lu Yiyao. A handsome man and a beautiful woman—if they could be together, it would make a good match. But since Lu Yiyao showed no interest in Xi Ruohan, Li Tong didn’t really act as an undercover agent.

However, Xi Ruohan was persistent, so her assistant occasionally contacted him to probe Lu Yiyao’s intentions. Both working in the same industry, Li Tong understood her and maintained a cordial relationship without revealing any useful information.

Now that Xi Ruohan had just arrived, her assistant had already contacted him. He thought Lu Yiyao was unaware, but his boss had seen through everything without pointing it out.

With admiration for Lu Yiyao, Li Tong arranged to meet the assistant on the same floor and handed her the makeup bag as instructed. The assistant, aware of Xi Ruohan’s preparation of the gift, didn’t connect the makeup bag with the returned gift.

She assumed Lu Yiyao had finally reciprocated and excitedly ran upstairs to Xi Ruohan’s room, delivering the “gift of love.”

Lu Yiyao, listening at the door, timed his WeChat message perfectly—[The pastries were delicious 😊.]

Xi Ruohan’s frustrated scream echoed through the hallway, clearly having received the returned gift and WeChat message before even closing her door. Lu Yiyao exhaled, feeling returning the comb was a wise decision. Had it been a regular comb, he might have kept it, but a mandarin duck* comb… he didn’t want to give Xi Ruohan any false hope.

*Clarity: In China, mandarin ducks are believed to be lifelong couples and hence are regarded as a symbol of conjugal affection and fidelity. Such a gift would have too many undertones (whether intentional or not).

When Lu Yiyao initially saw Xi Ruohan’s name on the proposed cast list, he did have his concerns. However, on one hand, she was indeed a skilled and professional actress, and on the other, they hadn’t been in contact for a long time, leading him to optimistically believe that Xi Ruohan had given up on pursuing him.

After all, he had explicitly and implicitly rejected her advances many times before, and Xi Ruohan did seem to quiet down for a while.

Little did he know how tenacious and persistent she was, much like the character Zhao Buyao, the daughter of the Liuhua Palace’s master, whom she was set to portray in this role.

As the screams in the hallway gradually subsided, Lu Yiyao began to worry about their future scenes together. There were many scenes between Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao, including several intimate ones. It seemed that waiting for Xi Ruohan to lose interest in him would be a long and challenging task.

His phone suddenly rang, startling him. He thought it was Xi Ruohan calling to confront him, but it was Ran Lin, his die-hard fan.

“Hello?” Lu Yiyao didn’t realize it, but the moment he saw the caller ID, his worries about Xi Ruohan vanished, replaced by a warm, melting feeling.

“Are you resting?” Ran Lin asked.

“No. What’s up?” They didn’t have a rehearsal planned for the night since tomorrow’s scenes were mostly with the female lead.

Ran Lin, now more casual in his calls and messages with Lu Yiyao, got straight to the point. “Zhang Beichen has arrived and wants to invite us out for late-night snacks.”

Lu Yiyao then remembered seeing in a group chat that Zhang Beichen was coming to Hengdian for filming. He had seen it but hadn’t paid much attention.

Lu Yiyao’s feelings towards Zhang Beichen were lukewarm—not very close but not distant either. Their most familiar time was during the reality show, but after the show ended, they gradually lost contact. Even with occasional interactions in group chats, they maintained a polite distance.

Zhang Beichen must have sensed this, which was why he approached Ran Lin and not Lu Yiyao directly.

Thinking of this, Lu Yiyao curiously asked, “Did he invite both of us?”

Ran Lin, amused, replied, “What else? Oh, he only invited me, and then I dragged you along for a free meal.”

Lu Yiyao laughed but still playfully said, “If he invited both of us, why did he only contact you and not me?”

Ran Lin was exasperated. “Then I’ll have Zhang Beichen call you right now, saying you’re upset because he didn’t personally invite you, our proud God Lu.”

Lu Yiyao felt refreshed and satisfied amidst Ran Lin’s “I can’t stand you” tone.

Fifteen minutes later, Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin met at the hotel’s side entrance under a dark, windy night.

Ran Lin wore dark gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie, completely covering his face with the hood. Lu Yiyao was in black pants, a black T-shirt, a black cap, and a black mask, revealing only his eyes, which were also black.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but tease him. “Why didn’t you bring sunglasses? That would have been foolproof.”

Lu Yiyao shrugged, seriously explaining, “It’s too dark.”

Thus, two suspicious-looking young men stood under a streetlamp, trying to hail a taxi. After being ignored by several cautious drivers, one finally stopped.

Zhang Beichen’s hotel was close to theirs, and the restaurant wasn’t far either. A ten-minute taxi ride later, they arrived.

The restaurant was small but looked clean. Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin told the waiter their reserved private room number and were led inside. The waiter glanced at Ran Lin a few times, seemingly recognizing him but unable to place where from. As for Lu Yiyao, with only his eyes visible, identification was impossible.

However, encountering celebrities was a common occurrence for those working in Hengdian’s catering industry. The waiter, unable to recall Ran Lin’s identity, didn’t press the matter and simply brought them to their room before going to fetch tea.

Ran Lin was surprised that Zhang Beichen hadn’t arrived yet. After sitting down, he sent a WeChat message—[We’ve arrived.]

He looked up after sending the message to find Lu Yiyao staring at him curiously.

“What’s up?” Ran Lin asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the gaze, and instinctively checked himself for anything amiss.

“It’s just a bit strange,” Lu Yiyao said honestly. “I didn’t feel like you two were that close during the show, so it’s surprising he contacted you as soon as he got to Hengdian.”

Ran Lin, thinking Lu Yiyao was still in his “tsundere” mode, quickly reassured, “He invited both of us, okay?”

Lu Yiyao smiled and shook his head. “The invitation was just a formality. I know what my relationship with him is like.”

Ran Lin didn’t expect such directness from Lu Yiyao. His surprise gave way to a different feeling. If Lu Yiyao merely considered him a collaborative partner or a familiar colleague, there was no need for such openness.

In the industry, many relationships were superficial; even amidst intense behind-the-scenes competition, they had to maintain a courteous facade. Lu Yiyao had no need to openly share his true feelings about Zhang Beichen.

The fact that he did, and so naturally, suggested one thing—Lu Yiyao not only considered him a friend but a completely unguarded one. Wang Xi said Lu Yiyao was naïve and sweet. Ran Lin agreed only with the last part.

Lu Yiyao was neither naïve nor innocent; he understood the stakes and saw through the industry’s facade, but he was sincere with friends he valued. Even if the person wasn’t gay, Ran Lin thought, being friends with Lu Yiyao was his good fortune.

“You can’t avoid the topic by looking at me with such admiration.” Lu Yiyao tapped the table lightly, noticing Ran Lin’s dreamy gaze.

Ran Lin shook his head, snapping out of his reverie, and objectively explained his relationship with Zhang Beichen. “We’ve been in touch since the reality show ended. Our relationship is pretty good.”

Lu Yiyao frowned, recalling details of the reality show, and reserved judgment. Ran Lin didn’t want to delve too deep, fearing he might inadvertently mention Dubai and land in hot water. He quickly changed the subject. “I heard Xi Ruohan arrived today.”

The waiter arrived with tea at that moment. Lu Yiyao took a cup, blowing on it lightly. Once the waiter left, he casually mentioned, “She’s already arrived and came to greet me.”

Ran Lin, having seen their rumored relationship articles online, took Lu Yiyao’s casual demeanor as confirmation of their professional relationship. He commented, “That’s the treatment of a male lead.”

Lu Yiyao sipped his tea, setting down the cup with a light sigh. “Ah, it’s hard being so popular.”

Ran Lin, unimpressed, joked, “We should invite the media to see you now.”

Lu Yiyao immediately shook his head. “No way.”

Ran Lin felt somewhat reassured. “So you know you’re being arrogant?”

Lu Yiyao seriously replied, “I’m not photogenic without makeup.”

Ran Lin: “…”

Where the hell is Zhang Beichen?

Lu Yiyao didn’t hear Ran Lin’s internal scream, but he too hoped Zhang Beichen would arrive soon. For some reason, he didn’t want to discuss Xi Ruohan with Ran Lin, as he avoided lying to friends and feared being asked about Xi Ruohan’s pursuit of him.

Being pursued by a girl isn’t shameful; it could even be seen as proof of charm. But firstly, Lu Yiyao didn’t need such things to boast about his appeal, and secondly, it involved a girl’s reputation. Regardless of her feelings, he wouldn’t divulge more than necessary.

Perhaps hearing their calls, Zhang Beichen finally arrived—

“Sorry for being late. Today’s meal is on me. Order whatever you want. Don’t be shy.”

His voice arrived before he did. The tall, handsome young man entered the private room. Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin stood up—a sign of respect for the host, regardless of their respective statuses.

But as soon as they saw each other, all three paused. Zhang Beichen was wearing grey sweatpants and a deep blue hoodie, almost identical to Ran Lin’s outfit, looking like a uniform or couple’s attire at first glance.

What could have been a light, passable joke somehow led to a moment of awkward silence among the three.

Fortunately, it didn’t last long. Ran Lin broke the ice with a laugh. “Matching outfits aren’t scary. It’s only embarrassing if you’re the uglier one.”

Zhang Beichen didn’t find it awkward; his pause was more out of amusement.

“Who said it’s matching? This is called a couple’s outfit,” Zhang Beichen said naturally, so casually that it couldn’t be taken as anything but a joke.

But Ran Lin knew Zhang Beichen was just seizing the opportunity for a quick jab. With Lu Yiyao there, he couldn’t react too strongly and simply poured a cup of tea for Zhang, offering it seriously. “Here, have some tea.”

Zhang Beichen didn’t really have any ulterior motives. His invitation to Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao today was simply to foster good relations. With Ran Lin’s role as Fang Xian already confirmed, there was no point in dwelling on the past for Zhang Beichen; it was important to look forward. Moreover, he wasn’t directly replaced by Ran Lin. Although there might be some feelings of reluctance and jealousy, he couldn’t really blame Ran Lin for it. It was better to maintain their relationship, as having more friends meant having more paths open.

Moreover, he hadn’t expected Ran Lin to actually bring Lu Yiyao along. Indeed, the scent he had picked up on in Dubai wasn’t an illusion.

Did the two get together?

It didn’t seem so, at least from Lu Yiyao’s natural demeanor and gaze.

But as for Ran Lin…

“Did you invite us for supper or to read our fortune?” Ran Lin, both annoyed and amused, handed the menu to Zhang, who was still intently observing them.

Zhang Beichen regained his composure and confidently said, without even glancing at the menu, “I used to eat here all the time when I was filming in the area. I know what to order with my eyes closed.”

Ran Lin laughed. “Then let’s see you do it.”

Zhang Beichen, of course, didn’t actually close his eyes but ended up calling the waiter and smoothly listing several dishes.

Once the waiter left and they were alone in the private room, Zhang Beichen casually asked, “How’s filming been this past week? Tough?”

His question seemed directed at both friends, but his gaze was fixed on Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao understood the implication and responded nonchalantly, “It’s been okay, mostly shooting dialogue scenes.”

Ran Lin chimed in with a bit of teasing. “Of course, he’s not struggling. In the drama, he doesn’t have any martial arts or inner force. All his character does is scheme and plot—a real mastermind.”

Lu Yiyao disagreed. “How can you call it scheming? It’s just taking revenge and settling scores, a common practice since ancient times.”

Ran Lin didn’t bother to argue and turned to Zhang Beichen, saying seriously, “In the drama, I’m the one who gets outsmarted by him.”

Zhang Beichen smiled lightly. “I know.”

Ran Lin suddenly realized he had misspoken.

Of course, Zhang Beichen knew—he had auditioned for the role of Fang Xian… Ran Lin, you fool!

“If you want to praise me, just say it. No need to beat around the bush,” Zhang Beichen joked, helping Ran Lin out of the awkward situation and casually ruffled his hair.

They were seated around a round table, which normally would mean they sat some distance apart. However, Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin had casually taken seats next to each other with an empty chair between them, and Zhang Beichen had directly taken the spot next to Ran Lin, close enough to easily ruffle his hair without it seeming out of place.

Lu Yiyao subtly frowned.

It wasn’t about Ran Lin’s hair being touched; he wasn’t Ran Lin’s guardian after all. But Zhang Beichen’s display of affection seemed out of place for mere friends, more flirtatious and clingy, making him uncomfortable.

Especially since Ran Lin clearly didn’t like it. He didn’t move away, but his smile wasn’t natural.

Zhang Beichen only ruffled Ran Lin’s hair briefly, but his gaze lingered between the two, finding the situation more interesting than he had anticipated. This meal was proving to be worth it.

The waiter began serving the dishes. They were mostly snacks, small in quantity but exquisite, fitting for a late-night meal. Lu Yiyao didn’t seem to have much appetite. Despite Ran Lin’s genuine praise for the dishes, Lu Yiyao only picked at his food, spending most of the time listening to him and Ran Lin chat.

Zhang Beichen’s intention wasn’t just to chat with Ran Lin; he wanted to connect with Lu Yiyao. But that was his original plan, and now he was more curious about something else…

“Teacher Lu.” Zhang Beichen suddenly called out to Lu Yiyao, a habit from their reality show days which made them feel closer.

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Zhang Beichen tilted his head, asking uncertainly, “The female lead in your drama is… Xi Ruohan?”

Lu Yiyao sensed a trap and didn’t respond immediately.

Ran Lin, not understanding the silence, thought Lu Yiyao didn’t want to talk to Zhang Beichen and answered to avoid awkwardness, “Yes, it’s Xi Ruohan.”

“I remember she worked with Teacher Lu before in <Yun Zhang>, right?” Zhang Beichen continued.

Ran Lin nodded promptly. “Yes, she’s a great actress and very beautiful.”

He had watched <Yun Zhang> even before he developed feelings for Lu Yiyao and revisited it twice after. The drama’s story and quality were genuinely good, independent of his feelings for Lu Yiyao, leading to a positive impression of the female lead.

Seeing Lu Yiyao not responding and Ran Lin being so proactive, Zhang Beichen turned to Ran Lin. “I also heard… she pursued Teacher Lu?”

Ran Lin was momentarily stunned.

Zhang Beichen watched him calmly, not seeming in a rush for an answer. Ran Lin blinked slowly, coming back to his senses, and looked at Lu Yiyao unconsciously.

Lu Yiyao sighed inwardly, further solidifying his lack of rapport with Zhang Beichen. But now, with one asking and the other waiting, he had to acknowledge with a brief smile that barely lingered. “Yes, she did.”

Ran Lin almost blurted out, “Why didn’t you mention this when we were just talking about Xi Ruohan?” but stopped himself in time.

He had no right to demand Lu Yiyao to share such things. Even as friends, there was no obligation to disclose everything.

“Everyone says it’s easy for a woman to pursue a man, so how come you didn’t take a liking to her, Teacher Lu?” Zhang Beichen still seemed genuinely curious.

Ran Lin quickly looked down and took a sip of tea to avoid the ongoing conversation. The tea was light but tasted bitter in his stomach.

Zhang Beichen glanced subtly at Ran Lin, noting his subtle emotional fluctuations. Then he looked back at Lu Yiyao, whose face no longer showed discomfort but rather a colder, more pronounced smile. “It’s just a matter of fate, I guess. If you find her attractive, I can introduce you.”

Zhang Beichen’s expression soured slightly. “We know each other.”

Despite the difference in their status, Zhang Beichen’s popularity wasn’t inferior to Xi Ruohan’s. They had crossed paths at various events, even without direct collaboration. Lu Yiyao’s suggestion seemed a bit disdainful, almost like a subtle jab, which he regretted a bit after saying it.

After all, Zhang Beichen was just being nosy, a trait that, while annoying, wasn’t a major fault.

“Today I’ve been honest with you both. If any rumors come out, I’ll know who to blame,” Lu Yiyao suddenly joked, his face and eyes alight with humor.

Zhang Beichen’s tension eased.

If he had annoyed Lu Yiyao just to satisfy his trivial curiosity, it would have been a poor trade. Things were just right now—he hadn’t really offended Lu Yiyao and had confirmed Ran Lin’s feelings for him.

Although Lu Yiyao hadn’t realized it yet, there was always time. As a melon eater and colleague, Zhang Beichen always enjoyed watching drama unfold.

“I’ll keep it a secret.” Ran Lin’s voice, still full of energy but somewhat forced, rang in his ears.

Zhang Beichen inwardly understood, raising his glass to Lu Yiyao with a loud voice. “Here’s to you, and if anything leaks, it’s on me.”

He then downed his drink.

Lu Yiyao didn’t really care whether they spread rumors or not; he was just giving Zhang Beichen a way out, so he cooperatively raised his glass, smoothly transitioning the late-night meal into the next inconsequential topic.

They dined until half past eleven. Lu Yiyao was the first to suggest leaving, citing an early filming schedule the next day as a valid reason.

Zhang Beichen promptly settled the bill without any intention of prolonging the evening. The dinner had achieved more than its intended purpose—not only did it help build relationships, but it also led to an unexpected discovery, which was enough for him.

Ran Lin, meanwhile, was still pondering over Xi Ruohan. He wasn’t sure why he was so preoccupied with the actress, who had pursued Lu Yiyao but hadn’t succeeded. But he couldn’t help it; his mind was filled with images of Xi Ruohan from <Yun Zhang> and her scenes with Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin realized he was still bothered that Lu Yiyao hadn’t mentioned her pursuit. It didn’t matter whether Lu Yiyao should have told him or not.

The sudden realization that someone you thought you had connected with was keeping things from you was still a bit painful. But then again, he hadn’t told Lu Yiyao that he was gay either. Pretending to be just a friend while earnestly treating someone, when compared, he seemed more at fault.

“What’s wrong?” In the taxi, Lu Yiyao finally found the opportunity to speak with Ran Lin alone.

“What do you mean?” Ran Lin asked, puzzled.

Lu Yiyao sighed. “You haven’t said a word since we left the restaurant.”

Ran Lin realized he might have been overly gloomy and quickly made up an excuse. “Maybe I’m just tired from eating too much at the late-night meal.”

Lu Yiyao was incredulous. “How strenuously can one eat?”

Ran Lin chuckled and then looked out the window.

Theoretically, this was a signal that he wanted some quiet, but Lu Yiyao didn’t pick up on it because he was preoccupied with a question, “Did you find Zhang… uh, him, a bit strange?”

Ran Lin glanced at the taxi driver, who was focused on driving with the window down, the radio on, and completely oblivious to their conversation. Still, it was better to be cautious.

Without mentioning Zhang Beichen’s name, he asked, “What do you mean?”

After a moment’s thought, Lu Yiyao said softly, “I think he might be… gay.”

He said the last word quietly, but Ran Lin heard it clearly. He couldn’t hide his shock and disbelief as he looked at Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao thought Ran Lin’s shock was about the revelation itself and further explained his reasoning. “I’ve met many in England, and I have a few friends like that, so I’m usually not wrong in my judgment.”

Ran Lin swallowed hard, expressing his deep skepticism about this. But what concerned him more was, “Do you… have an issue with it?”

“Of course not,” Lu Yiyao replied without hesitation. “It’s a personal choice, and I fully respect that.”

A still confused Ran Lin hurriedly nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I respect it too.”

Lu Yiyao gave him a look of exasperation. Ran Lin, feeling cornered yet defiant, asked, “Since we both respect it, is there any other issue?”

Lu Yiyao looked at him with a mix of frustration and disappointment, lowering his voice. “There’s no one more oblivious than you. He’s interested in you. Didn’t you notice?”

Ran Lin was stunned for the second time. His mind went blank. Lu Yiyao had figured it out? But then, if Lu Yiyao could even discern Zhang Beichen’s interest in him, then…

“I’m telling you this so you can be more cautious,” Lu Yiyao said earnestly after taking a deep breath. “Men are generally insensitive to these things. Don’t be naive and let yourself be taken advantage of.”

Looking at Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin felt a surge of emotions. Finally, he firmly grasped Lu Yiyao’s hand, saying sincerely, “Let’s both be mindful.”


Kinky Thoughts:

Correction, it’s not a “personal choice”. Though I get where you’re coming from Lu Yiyao.


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