Suddenly Trending Ch12

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 12

Wang Xi helped Ran Lin secure auditions for two roles—one as the second male lead and the other as the third male lead. As the variety show had not yet aired and the airport incident’s hype had almost completely faded, Ran Lin’s life returned to its usual calm during the filming break. He spent his days exercising and preparing for the scenes he had to audition for.

Both auditions were scheduled for the same day, one in the morning and the other in the afternoon. Wang Xi personally accompanied Ran Lin to meet the directors. Although he was nervous, once the actual audition started, he forgot everything else.

On the way back, he asked Wang Xi how he performed. Wang Xi, not usually generous with praise, commented that he acted well but hesitated before adding that he probably wouldn’t get either role.

They were in the company’s business car. Along with the driver, there were only Wang Xi, Ran Lin, and Liu Wanwan. To facilitate communication, Wang Xi and Ran Lin sat in the back, while Liu Wanwan sat in the passenger seat.

Stuck in rush-hour traffic, the driver, bored, asked Wang Xi for permission before opening a window and lighting a cigarette.

In the faint tobacco scent, Wang Xi, who had been silent the whole trip, suddenly looked at Ran Lin with interest and said, “I’ve noticed something interesting about you. You tend to overthink everything you do, except when acting. You immerse yourself completely, oblivious to everything else.”

Ran Lin pondered over this and seemed to grasp something. “Did I not do well in the auditions? Did the directors look displeased?”

“No, no.” Wang Xi clarified. “They had no issues with your acting. But they didn’t really care how you performed. Both directors wanted to interrupt you midway but probably didn’t because of the person who introduced you. And since you didn’t make eye contact with them, they didn’t find a chance to let you finish your performance.”

Ran Lin was surprised. “Are you saying they had decided not to cast me even before my audition?”

Wang Xi shrugged and pulled a face. “Yeah, the main cast was probably already decided, and the auditions were just a formality.”

Ran Lin nodded, asking no further questions.

Despite Wang Xi’s casual tone, as if she were just casually informing him that he didn’t get the roles, the fact that she noticed the situation during the auditions but waited until now to mention it didn’t align with her usual straightforward demeanor. Ran Lin understood that she was considering his feelings, carefully contemplating the best time and way to break the news to him.

Ran Lin wanted to tell Wang Xi that he wasn’t that fragile. She must have put in a lot of effort to secure these opportunities for him. A project always involves negotiations from various parties, especially for significant roles like these, which involve many relationships. The actual investors might have their preferred actors, or the roles might have already been secured through stronger connections.

“We’ll face situations like this again in the future. Just get used to it.” Wang Xi sighed, rubbing her temples. She wasn’t too pleased herself; understanding the industry didn’t mean she wasn’t affected. Moreover, she had been busy with Han Ze’s issues lately, which was exhausting. “We have the second recording the day after tomorrow. You’re okay with that, right?”

“No problem,” Ran Lin quickly assured her. “I’ll just be myself, like you said. I’m getting the hang of it.”

Wang Xi nodded in satisfaction, then added, “Remember to interact more with Lu Yiyao. Don’t just stick with Xia Xinran all the time. He has a great sense of variety, and you won’t stand out next to him.”

Ran Lin was stunned, remaining silent for a long time. Wang Xi, unaware of his reaction, leaned back to rest after her reminder.

Only Liu Wanwan, who had been eavesdropping, was left with complex emotions, staring straight ahead, lost in thought.

The traffic finally started moving. The driver extinguished his cigarette and gently pressed the accelerator, inching forward with the flow of cars.

Ran Lin gazed out the window into the smoggy haze.

He was so deep in thought that he imagined the smog dispersing and the traffic disappearing, replaced by a clear blue sky and a river, with Xia Xinran’s frantic yelling and Lu Yiyao inviting him to try the noodles he had made.

He smiled unconsciously. Turning back from his reverie as if making a decision, he addressed his agent, “Xi Jie.”

“Hmm?” Wang Xi responded without opening her eyes.

Ran Lin’s voice was soft but clear. “Didn’t you say I should just be myself?”

Wang Xi frowned slightly, then opened her eyes reluctantly, looking at him curiously. “What are you talking about?”

Ran Lin knew she had been half asleep, so he repeated, “You said I should be myself, right? Being myself means choosing who I want to hang out with, doesn’t it?”

Wang Xi was now fully awake and sat up straight, her sharp gaze scanning Ran Lin’s face. “Are you trying to tell me that you prefer Xia Xinran over Lu Yiyao?”

Ran Lin shook his head gently. “I don’t dislike anyone, they’re all good. Xia Xinran is genuine and straightforward. Lu Yiyao is dedicated. No matter how bizarre the segments and tasks are, he insists on completing them. Zhang Beichen is friendly, and Gu Jie is reliable. Each person has their qualities. So, if you ask me to be myself, I won’t have a preference. I’ll follow the show’s setup, be in any team they put me in, won’t deliberately avoid anyone, nor do I want to cling to anyone.”

After speaking, Ran Lin waited for Wang Xi’s response.

She looked at him with a half-smile, taking her time before responding coldly, “Why do I feel like you’re not just protesting about the variety show but also complaining about me tying you to Lu Yiyao for publicity?”

Ran Lin pondered for a moment, then raised his eyes to meet Wang Xi’s, without evasion, sincere, and forthright. “Xi Jie, can I talk to you about what’s in my heart?”

“Of course,” Wang Xi responded without hesitation. “You are my artist now, and your future depends on our joint efforts. If you can’t be honest with me, then what am I busy with?”

Ran Lin didn’t expect such openness from Wang Xi, thinking he would be mocked before getting to the point. His prepared defenses relaxed, and he spoke more freely. “Then I won’t hold back. About the hype, I do have some regrets…”

Seeing Wang Xi’s disapproving frown, Ran Lin quickly added, “But that’s in the past, and I did benefit from it, so I won’t complain. I want to talk about the future.”

Wang Xi crossed her arms, listening intently.

“Xi Jie, let me ask you one thing: if I stop tying myself to anyone, if I don’t leech off anyone’s popularity and rely solely on my efforts, can I still make it?”

A long, quiet pause followed.

Finally, Wang Xi, who had been watching him, said softly, “What do you mean by ‘make it’?”

Ran Lin had always known the answer. “To get work, to act in films. I don’t mind not being famous, as long as every role I play is recognized and appreciated.”

Wang Xi scoffed. “Why would anyone give you roles if you’re not famous?”

Ran Lin smiled lightly, exuding a playful confidence. “There are roles for the famous, and there are roles for the not-so-famous. Not all production teams are flush with cash. Some directors pursue art… uh, and cost-effectiveness.”

“Hmm,” Wang Xi nodded as if she were seriously considering it, then said, “Those few anti-Japanese war drama crews in Hengdian right now would welcome an actor like you.”

Ran Lin was bemused by Wang Xi’s sharp tongue. He still held back some thoughts that he felt were too naive to voice. Not that he was afraid to say them, but even he found them childish.

“Alright, stop beating around the bush. You just don’t want to be hyped up, and you want your work to speak for itself, right?” Wang Xi had seen many artists and understood his intentions from his first sentence.

Ran Lin looked at her in surprise, realizing for the first time how inexperienced he really was.

Wang Xi didn’t mince words with him. “With your current resources and conditions, relying on your work to build a reputation and popularity is like starting from zero. You may not see any results until your contract ends. The company has no reason to bypass shortcuts and invest in something that seems unlikely to pay off with you.”

Ran Lin remained silent. What she said was harsh but true, and he couldn’t refute it.

Wang Xi knew he couldn’t argue but also saw his determination. “Still not giving up?”

Ran Lin nodded almost imperceptibly, his movement light and gentle yet persistent: “Xi Jie, I’ve been with the company for over two years. Before the airport fiasco, I hadn’t had any engagements for a long time, and I was prepared to switch careers. So, when the airport incident happened, I was very confused. On one hand, I knew such opportunities were rare, but on the other, something felt off. I even hoped I would never run into Lu Yi’ao again because what was done was quite unscrupulous and hard to justify.”

“Everyone in the circle…”

“I know many people in the circle do this, but I also know many are working diligently, acting, and promoting themselves. There’s nothing wrong with hyping up one’s acting skills, even exaggerating a bit, as long as I’m not feeling guilty. I’d be happy to talk it up to the skies. But creating hype by leveraging others’ popularity and heat—that’s not right… No matter how many people do it, it’s still not right.”

Wang Xi clicked her tongue, still surprised by Ran Lin’s resolve. “Did Lu Yiyao put a spell on you? Have you become his die-hard fan?”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh at her wild imagination. “I’ve spoken less than ten sentences with him over two days.”

Wang Xi was puzzled. “Then why this sudden conscience?”

“It wasn’t sudden.” Ran Lin laid bare his thought process. “I felt guilty from the start, but I didn’t know him then. During the filming, he hardly looked at me, and I almost wanted to apologize…”

“You apologized?” Wang Xi was astonished.

“No, he never gave me a chance, avoiding me as much as possible.” Recalling Lu Yiyao’s disdainful gaze, Ran Lin felt he deserved it. “This is just the first episode, and there are seven more to go. If I continue as you suggested, clinging to him, then that friendship will be completely lost.”

“Young man, you think too much.” Wang Xi sighed helplessly. “No one wants to be friends with a small fry like you.”

Ran Lin said, “Fine, not friends, but we’ll be acquaintances after eight episodes. I really can’t keep leeching off him. If you insist I continue interacting with him, I assure you my performance in front of the camera will be embarrassingly awkward.”

Wang Xi stared at him for a full minute before rolling her eyes and sighing wearily. “I finally know why you can’t become famous…”

Ran Lin nodded in agreement. “I know I’m particularly naïve.”

Wang Xi, having her words stolen from her mouth, paused for two seconds before bursting into laughter. “You’re like this because you haven’t faced setbacks—a naive and romantic idealist—and there’s no need for self-loathing.”

Ran Lin wasn’t sure if Wang Xi agreed or not.

“So, here’s the deal.” Wang Xi, who suppressed her smile and regained her composure, offered a compromise. “Your variety show airs on February 14th, running for eight episodes, which means it will end in mid-April. I promise from now until mid-March, your promotions won’t be tied to anyone. We’ll see the results. But if your performance doesn’t hold up and the show doesn’t make an impact—if we can’t find a highlight for promotion, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to follow the company’s plans afterward.”

“You really agreed?!” Ran Lin couldn’t believe his luck.

“My artist wants an apple, and even if I have to steal the peaches from heaven for it, it won’t end well. Why bother?” Wang Xi hesitated before reaching out to pat Ran Lin’s head like a strict sister. “But you only have four episodes. Treasure and make the most of them.”

That night, a Weibo blogger named “Curly Curly Eyelashes”, who had once caused a small stir but then faded into obscurity, posted after many days of silence:

[Attention, friends on my homepage: As of today, this blog is stopping updates. From now on, I won’t be a fan of any idols or CPs, officially returning to the real world. Yes, I’m dedicating myself to work!!! ✊]

……

The recording cycle of “National First Love Drifting Story” was the same as its broadcasting cycle, lasting eight weeks, with one episode recorded each week. The day after Ran Lin’s unsuccessful audition, he hurried non-stop to the location for the second episode’s recording in Sichuan.

The two-day recording began with the first day in Jiuzhaigou and the second in the urban area of Chengdu. Perhaps learning from the chaos of the first episode, the production of the second episode was noticeably more compact and organized. The female host was gone, and all segments were communicated to the guests in advance by the crew, who then completed the tasks themselves.

The beautifully snow-covered Jiuzhaigou, the adorable Giant Panda Breeding Base, Du Fu Thatched Cottage, Kuanzhai Alley… Although still centered around game segments, there was less of a competitive feel and more of a touristic vibe, allowing Ran Lin and the others to enjoy a real vacation.

The selected “Spicy First Love” of the episode was Xia Xinran.

The reason was simple: Xia Xinran relished eating super spicy hot pot from start to finish. While the other four, including Ran Lin, were in tears, he remained spirited and didn’t even ruin his makeup. After finishing, he even reminisced about the previous episode, complaining that he wasn’t given the option of insanely spicy rice noodles as a punishment, which led him to drink the dreadful super lemon bitter gourd juice, still feeling its sour and bitter taste on the flight home that evening.

Ran Lin thought this episode would be quite interesting to watch. Compared to the previous one, their interactions had become more natural and smoother, occasionally tossing and catching jokes effectively.

However, his interactions with Lu Yiyao were still limited. He didn’t go out of his way to talk to him, and Lu Yiyao certainly didn’t take the initiative to approach him. The only time they were grouped together, they weren’t paired, resulting in nothing more than polite exchanges throughout the recording.

From Lu Yiyao’s perspective, everything might seem the same. But from Ran Lin’s, since he had let go of his mental burden, even with minimal communication, he felt more relaxed and even found Lu Yiyao more attractive.

But honestly, Ran Lin still felt that Lu Yiyao hadn’t fully let go. Without comparing him to Xia Xinran, even against the normal performances of Gu Jie and Zhang Beichen, Lu Yiyao seemed a bit too reserved.

Initially, Ran Lin thought it was due to fame, as many in the circle behave that way, feeling their status prevents them from mingling freely.

But after observing for two episodes, it didn’t seem to be the case. Firstly, Lu Yiyao’s status wasn’t much higher than Gu Jie and Xia Xinran, at best slightly more popular. Secondly, in their limited interactions, Lu Yiyao didn’t seem to be intentionally elevating himself. He was meticulous in his tasks and cooperative with partners, diligently participating throughout the recording.

What then caused this sense of distance?

Even Zhang Beichen commented on the way back to the hotel after the second episode’s recording, suggesting that Lu Yiyao was perhaps taking himself too seriously.

Ran Lin just smiled and didn’t continue the topic with Zhang Beichen. After returning to Beijing, he thought over the past four days of interactions and felt it wasn’t as Zhang Beichen described. Lu Yiyao’s unapproachability seemed more a trait of his personality rather than his approach to situations.

If Lu Yiyao were in Ran Lin’s less prominent position, Ran Lin believed he would still behave the same way.

So, Ran Lin thought, Lu Yiyao was naturally reserved, or, to put it another way, not warm. Even if occasionally playful, he always maintained a comfortable distance.

Suddenly, it was February 10th, which was time for the third episode’s recording in Sanya, Hainan.

With the program set to premiere in four days, promotional clips had been online for a week, entering the countdown to broadcast. To boost interest, snippets from the first episode were being released.

These snippets might or might not make it into the final cut, but they were certainly eye-catching or cute enough to stand alone for a minute or two. Ran Lin, having some spare time—as Wang Xi had become more cautious in seeking audition opportunities for him following the previous mishap—spent his days browsing the program’s Weibo. Watching each snippet and recalling the experiences made for an interesting pastime.

However, the behind-the-scenes footage mainly featured the more popular guests. So, although Ran Lin was always included, most of it actually revolved around Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran, followed by Zhang Beichen and Gu Jie. Ran Lin rarely appeared, and when he did, it was mostly as a background figure for these companions.

The recording was scheduled for February 10th, with a flight to Sanya on the evening of the 9th. On the way to the Capital Airport, Ran Lin finally saw a clip about himself on the program’s Weibo.

[#National First Love Drifting Story Premieres on 2.14# Eighth Exclusive Behind-the-Scenes Clip: A single-leaf flatboat on the Li River. Who is the ultimate Landscape Male God? Friendship first, competition second, @Zhang Beichen even offers the first place to @Ran Lin? [XX Satellite TV – National First Love Drifting Story’s short video]]

The video was short, just a few seconds, capturing the moment after a rapid-fire Q&A when he landed second on the bamboo raft and conversed with Zhang Beichen.

“How long have you been here?” That was his greeting to Zhang Beichen upon landing.

“Not long.” Zhang Beichen’s smile in the video was the same as it had been a couple of weeks ago.

“Don’t be modest. You were way ahead. I tried my best but didn’t even catch a glimpse of you.” That was his jest.

“Shall I let you have the first place then, and you can choose the room tonight?” Zhang Beichen said awkwardly, scratching his head.

The clip ended abruptly there.

Ran Lin frowned slightly, taking off his Bluetooth earphones and recalling that day’s events. If he remembered correctly, when Zhang Beichen offered to let him have the first place, he had refused, explaining it was just a joke. But the program’s clip didn’t include any of this.

Ran Lin understood the editing was done for sensationalism. From an audience’s perspective, the clip indeed had many talking points.

The clip had been posted an hour ago.

Unable to resist, Ran Lin scrolled up, and soon the most popular comments caught his eye:

Hui Jie Loves Watermelon: [Am I the only one who thinks Ran Lin’s face looks huge? Everywhere within the four seas is TM*, and he even gets first place handed to him. 🤷‍♀️]

*Clarity: This is a play on the idiom Within the four seas, everyone is a brother (四海之内皆兄弟). The poster replaced brother with TM (which is an abbreviation for that is generally a vulgar way to express frustration of disdain). So while the original idiom refers to the meaning along the lines of “everyone is close like family”, this changes the meaning to more like “everyone is a motherfucker/everyone is the fucking same” in reference to basically saying how Ran Lin is a leech (hugging others’ thighs).

Deep Love for Beichen: [Da* Bei is always so warm! 😁]

*Big/Great () When used in front of a name, it expresses a kind of endearment or closeness.

Baby Lu’s Jane: [XX Satellite TV, just keep it up. A good show ruined by forcing in a favored person. One rotten apple spoils the whole barrel. 🤮]

Quit Smoking, Drinking, and Bilibili: [This is real sarcasm. You can see even Da Bei was embarrassed, directly offering the first place to him. 🐶]

“Ah—?”

While engrossed in reading, his phone was suddenly snatched away. Ran Lin instinctively exclaimed, only to shut up when he saw it was Wang Xi sitting in front.

Liu Wanwan watched the whole scene but didn’t dare to remind him.

“From now on, I’ll keep your phone until the recording is over,” Wang Xi stated, not asking but informing.

Ran Lin watched as his phone was placed into his manager’s bag. After a while, he managed to say, “I hadn’t finished reading yet…”

“I finished reading it for you.” Wang Xi zipped up her bag. “Eighty percent of it is mocking you. Good, you’ve successfully caught the audience’s attention.”

“What great news…” Ran Lin’s tone was sarcastic, but he felt heavy-hearted.

Although mentally prepared, seeing such relentless mockery was still quite a blow. Deep down, who doesn’t want to be liked? Only those with a thousand years of spiritual cultivation can absorb fighting spirit from such ridicule, and he probably couldn’t achieve that in this lifetime.

“The current public opinion is all superficial. Only when the full program airs will you see the real feedback from the audience. What you need to do now is to not think about anything else and focus on finishing the recording for the next two days.”

“…Yeah.”

Wang Xi knew that Ran Lin couldn’t completely stop thinking about it, but getting criticized is a rite of passage for every star. It doesn’t matter whether you want it or not, or whether you are famous or not.

Initially, she just wanted to take away his phone and not say much. After all, some things are ineffective when told by others and need to be realized personally. Moreover, comforting with kind words wasn’t her usual style.

But somehow, seeing the dejection in Ran Lin’s eyes, she ended up saying more than intended.

In her fifteen years as a manager, Wang Xi had worked with many artists, and Ran Lin was one of the most cooperative.

This cooperation wasn’t just about obedience, but about understanding her plans, grasping her intentions, and spontaneously offering more cooperation while carrying out her arrangements.

What was even more valuable was that Ran Lin knew how to communicate his thoughts and was willing to listen to others’ opinions. It wasn’t scary for artists to have their own ideas; what was scary was being wildly unrealistic.

Wang Xi thought that maybe this was Ran Lin’s charm.

He was comfortable to be around, making people unconsciously want to speak up for him and put in extra effort.

But whether this charm could be conveyed to the audience still depended on his luck.

Suddenly, the driver hit the brakes.

Wang Xi looked up in confusion, only to realize that, after all her thinking, they had already arrived at the airport.


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

Suddenly Trending Ch11

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 11

Early the next morning, the five men with dark circles under their eyes gathered in front of the most characteristic Old Town Yangshuo.

The morning task required them to find lost love tokens in the old town.

The exhaustion from the previous day, coupled with the night’s grueling ordeal, made it difficult for everyone to be spirited. Ran Lin was particularly out of sorts until hunger sharpened his mind around noon, and he realized the old town segment had ended.

He had only a vague memory of what they had done, but there was some gain. Due to Wang Xi’s advice the night before and his dazed state that morning, he had actually forgotten about the cameras. Although Bearded Cameraman Sun was always in sight, Ran Lin got used to it, treating it as a backdrop like the blue sky and white clouds.

The winner of the love token search was Zhang Beichen, who thereby earned direct entry into the final selection of the show’s Landscape First Love.

As usual, there was no lunch break, and they moved straight to the next segment. The five men, either resigned to their fate or accustomed to the routine, followed the crew to a quiet asphalt road where five bicycles awaited them.

“Next, we will give each of you a map. The destination is the location of our next segment. The stars need to follow the route and cycle there. Of course, you can also enjoy the beauty of the old town along the way. Sponsored by XXX, ‘National First Love Drifting Story’ now enters the final selection phase. Gentlemen, go go go!”

The female host had mastered her role in segueing and advertising, so after her bit, she immediately left the stage to the guests.

The five men looked at each other, harboring new grudges and old resentments, but in the current situation, they felt like comrades in adversity, each potentially the other’s savior.

“Let’s go.” Gu Jie casually pushed a bicycle forward, showing his colleagues that they just had to accept their fate.

All the bicycles looked the same, leaving no room for choice. Soon, everyone had a bike—except for Xia Xinran.

He stood still, glaring at the bicycle as if it were his arch-nemesis rather than a means of transportation. The others were studying the map, but Ran Lin noticed Xia Xinran’s odd behavior.

“What’s wrong?” Ran Lin approached, pushing his bike, and asked with concern, “Why aren’t you getting a bike?”

Xia Xinran was silent for a long while, until Ran Lin was about to speak again. He blurted out indignantly, “Alright, alright, I can’t ride. Are you happy now?”

His tone was indignant but more embarrassed than angry. Ran Lin was startled for a moment before understanding, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

Xia Xinran narrowed his eyes, shooting a glare that screamed, “I knew you would laugh at me.”

“Sorry, sorry, I won’t laugh.” Ran Lin tried hard to compose himself and then consoled, “It’s okay. Some people can’t blow bubbles with gum their whole life.”

Xia Xinran looked at him seriously, his face filled with despair. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Ran Lin felt a bit guilty and hesitated before deciding to follow his own idea. He might get criticized for overstepping or seeking attention, but he decided to be himself, as Wang Xi had advised him.

Glancing around, he finally spotted the chief director and quickly approached him, asking, “Director Shi, Xia Xinran doesn’t know how to ride a bike, and the route seems quite long. If it’s really not possible, can he just ride in the crew’s vehicle?”

The chief director was a bit stunned by Ran Lin’s sudden intervention for Xia Xinran, and he took a moment to process. Ran Lin waited patiently.

Finally, the director affirmed his stance. “No. In the world of your Drift Story, we are in a parallel universe to the crew, and we cannot interfere with any events in your world.”

Ran Lin was frustrated. Wasn’t it the director who had intervened in their parallel world by starting the motorboat for Xia Xinran and Lu Yiyao?

Of course, these thoughts remained unspoken. What Ran Lin actually said was, “But we can’t let Xia Xinran walk to the endpoint, right? We won’t have enough time for filming.”

As they spoke, Xia Xinran came over. Realizing Ran Lin was advocating for him, he felt a mix of surprise and gratitude.

In truth, Xia Xinran had learned to ride a bike as a child but had poor balance and kept falling. Others learned by falling, but he just got worse. After breaking his leg and wearing a cast for months, his family never let him try again.

But now, talking about these things felt like playing the victim, and as an adult, he was reluctant to dwell on childhood experiences. So, he simply didn’t elaborate; he just couldn’t ride.

The issue Ran Lin raised was indeed a concern for the crew—they couldn’t let a minor segment affect the rest of the filming. But this was only the first episode; if they made exceptions for every difficulty, other guests might also start saying they couldn’t do this or that, jeopardizing the show’s integrity.

As the chief director hesitated, Ran Lin suddenly had an idea. “Director Shi, I have a compromise!”

Ten minutes later, the resourceful crew procured a tandem bicycle.

Ran Lin had seen couples riding such bikes on their way here, so he knew there must be rental places nearby. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but Xia Xinran’s situation reminded him of it.

“I said I can’t ride a bike…” Xia Xinran watched as Ran Lin pushed the tandem bike towards him and instinctively stepped back.

Ran Lin sighed and tried coaxing him, like persuading a child to take medicine. “You don’t have to balance or steer—just pedal. Can’t you do that?”

Nearby, Lu Yiyao, Zhang Beichen, and Gu Jie had already burst into laughter when the crew brought the tandem bike. Gu Jie especially looked like he was about to hit the ground laughing.

Xia Xinran glared at his heartless companions several times, steeling his resolve.

“You better hold on tight…” Unfortunately, his voice trembled weakly, betraying his resolve.

Seated at the front, Ran Lin couldn’t help but chuckle. He tilted the bike slightly, but not enough to make it unmanageable, then steadied it firmly. “Hurry up and get on.”

Xia Xinran swung one leg over and sat on the back seat, gripping the rear handles tightly. After a moment of gathering courage, he finally said, “Okay, ready.”

Ran Lin pedaled, and the bike smoothly moved forward. Xia Xinran realized he didn’t have to do anything but pedal along and didn’t have to worry about balancing the bike at all. It was quite enjoyable.

Seeing their companions swiftly riding away, the three onlookers exchanged glances—they had been overtaken!

The filming crew had the hardest job, immediately getting into the prepared follow cars whenever the stars moved. On one side, the driver slowed down to match the speed of the bicycles, and on the other, they continued filming through the car window.

Ran Lin no longer thought about where his “Sun Ge” was. Blue sky, white clouds, the tranquility of the old town. Apart from the cold wind on his face, there was nothing imperfect.

It had been so long since he’d been this carefree. Riding a bike, looking at the scenery, feeling the breeze.

Ran Lin realized that once he changed his mindset, the whole world looked different. The scenery remained beautiful, but now his spirit could fly higher and further.

“Turn left, turn left—” Xia Xinran suddenly shouted.

Ran Lin snapped back to reality and quickly adjusted the bike, turning just in time before entering the fork in the road.

“Aren’t you looking at the map?” Xia Xinran muttered discontentedly, having studied the map since the start.

Ran Lin was both amused and annoyed. “How do you manage to enjoy your blessing and still complain about your God of Fortune?”

Xia Xinran was also embarrassed. “How do you manage to self-proclaim yourself God without my consent?”

The two bantered back and forth, eventually laughing at their own jokes. After the laughter, Xia Xinran suddenly said seriously, “Stop being a fan of Lu Yiyao. Be my fan.”

Ran Lin almost lost his pedal, looking back at him in confusion, but had to turn his head back to watch the road.

Xia Xinran leaned forward, whispering close to Ran Lin’s head, “Haven’t you noticed he’s not happy with you leeching off his popularity? I don’t mind, really. I think you’re a good friend.”

Ran Lin hadn’t expected Xia Xinran to be so direct about the issue of leeching off popularity and even highlighting Lu Yiyao’s attitude. Although they were in the entertainment industry and could guess Lu Yiyao’s feelings, this was in front of cameras.

Turning to look at Xia Xinran again, he saw him removing his hand from the microphone. Ran Lin realized that even those who make it in the entertainment industry, even if seemingly naïve, knew the lines not to cross.

But frankly, Xia Xinran was really sweet—sweet enough that Ran Lin wished he had a younger brother like him.

Pedaling harder, Ran Lin shouted amidst the whooshing wind, smiling warmly, “Why not be my fan instead—”

Their conversation continued, no longer needing to be whispered.

Xia Xinran responded openly, “I’m more popular than you—”

“That’s not about popularity. Even if ten thousand people are your fans, it doesn’t stop you from being mine, especially if you think I’m a good friend—”

“Alright, I’ll follow you when we get back—”

Ran Lin paused, feeling a warmth spreading in his heart. The third time he looked back at Xia Xinran, his eyes were softer than ever, his voice warm and charming. “Hold on tight. I’ll take you flying.”

Xia Xinran was caught off guard by the sudden acceleration and nearly hit his leg on the pedal.

“Easy there! You think this is the Tour de France or what—” Xia Xinran suddenly regretted getting on this metaphorical pirate ship. Ran Lin grinned, feeling even the cold wind become pleasant.

Once he got past the initial unfamiliarity and into the middle of the journey, Xia Xinran slowly found his rhythm and began to enjoy cycling. He eagerly shared his newfound appreciation with Ran Lin. “Ran Lin—”

Ran Lin, having developed a tacit understanding with Xia Xinran, didn’t need to look back to know the expression on his face. He must be eagerly awaiting a response, ready to launch into some whimsical topic.

“Hmm?” Ran Lin responded with interest.

He was starting to get the hang of Xia Xinran’s style. Though seemingly unguarded in his speech, Xia Xinran actually had a magical persona. Always whimsical, never predictable, yet somehow endearing to both strangers and fans. What might seem thoughtless from others became humorous when he said it. Maybe this was just his personality, which the company allowed to flourish freely, or perhaps there was an element of performance in it. But if played long enough, the act might become indistinguishable from his true nature.

“I finally understand why girls like to sit at the back of a bike.” Xia Xinran immediately shared his revelation upon getting a response. “No need to watch the road or maintain balance—just enjoying the scenery and the breeze, it’s totally relaxing…”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but tease him. “Can’t you take responsibility for once? You’re supposed to be the one riding in the front. Your little angels are all waiting to sit on your back seat. Are you just going to shatter their dreams?”

“Why should their dreams be shattered? They love me for who I am,” Xia Xinran said, suddenly letting go of the handlebars and quickly making a heart gesture at the camera on the car window next to them. “I love you all too. Here, heart!”

Ran Lin admired his ability to adapt and round off any topic. Some people naturally have a sense of variety and audience appeal, a gift that can’t be learned.

But, he didn’t want Xia Xinran to get too carried away with his self-congratulation…

“I don’t have many fans, so I can only send my love to the audience,” Ran Lin said, releasing the handlebars without warning and making the same heart gesture towards the camera. “I love you all, heart!”

Xia Xinran was slow to realize Ran Lin had completely let go of the bike and suddenly yelped, “Bike, bike, bike—”

Ran Lin’s gesture was brief. Before Xia Xinran finished shouting, he had already regained control of the bike, laughing heartily.

Ran Lin rarely played pranks, so when he did, the joy was doubled. This was the first time he had felt such pure happiness since the start of the show.

Xia Xinran finally realized he had been pranked amidst the laughter of the driver and couldn’t do anything but howl in mock despair, unleashing a trail of roars along the way.

Gu Jie and Lu Yiyao had been listening to the commotion all along.

The former was trying hard to contain himself, but his uncontrollable facial muscles betrayed his amusement. The sight of two men on a tandem bike was just too unique and funny.

The latter was much more low-key. In fact, he didn’t even glance at them, focusing solely on the road ahead and the map in his hand, and cycled past them.

However, when they arrived at the “Outdoor Training Camp” final destination, Gu Jie was first, Ran Lin and Xia Xinran were second, Zhang Beichen third, and Lu Yiyao fourth. It turned out Lu Yiyao had taken a wrong turn and had to circle back.

The group exchanged glances and eventually burst into laughter. Lu Yiyao, having spent the previous night personally delivering rice noodles to everyone, somewhat regretted his effort.

“Welcome to <National First Love Drifting Story> sponsored by XXX. We’ve now arrived at the final selection stage of this episode’s romantic theme, the Male God Training Camp! As our male gods can see, we have various outdoor training equipment and props set up, and on the table in front of you, there are various exotic ‘dark’ dishes…”

Without the host needing to explain, the five contestants could already sense the darkness in these dishes from their smell and appearance, not to mention the large nameplates in front of them.

Super sour bitter gourd juice, wasabi rice in bamboo tubes, cabbage avocado puree, insanely spicy rice noodles…

Just by looking at the names made their mouths feel odd.

“The rules of this segment are for the male gods to draw the tasks according to the order they arrived in. Of course, you can only see the name of the task after drawing it. You can choose to attempt the task or give it up. Successfully completing the task earns you a spot in the final selection of the Landscape First Love, but failing or giving up means you must taste one of the dark dishes. Moreover, which dish to taste will be decided by the other male gods, and a dish that’s been tasted cannot be chosen again.”

“Let’s start the draw!”

Gu Jie drew first, followed by Ran Lin, then Xia Xinran, with Zhang Beichen and Lu Yiyao drawing last.

“Please take a look at your task names quietly, but don’t tell anyone else.”

Following the host’s instructions, Ran Lin quietly flipped open his task paper, which read “Trust Fall”.

“Okay, now turn your task papers over,” the female host said, approaching Gu Jie. “Everyone still remembers yesterday’s Guanyan Adventure, right? The winner was promised a special privilege for today. Now, we reveal that privilege: Gu Jie can exchange tasks with someone else. Please consider carefully whether you want to switch.”

Gu Jie silently turned his task paper back over, revealing the colorful, lively words—“Naughty Paper Slip”. It felt ominously mischievous.

“I’ll switch.” Gu Jie decided after some contemplation.

“Okay.” The host, of course, loved such a reaction. The more variables in the game, the more exciting. “Please look at the other partners’ task papers in turn and choose who you want to exchange with!”

Although it was just a game, Ran Lin felt a bit of excitement when Gu Jie approached. The last time he felt this way was during a high school class party game of “hot potato”, where the loser had to perform. Ran Lin didn’t mind performing but holding that “potato” felt like holding a live bomb, eager to toss it away immediately.

It wasn’t about the content of the game or the final punishment; it would be the same even if it were a game of tag.

Everyone has a childlike heart.

As long as you’re fully engaged, even the most childish game can stir up enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, Gu Jie didn’t seem too interested in his task, giving it just a quick glance before moving on to Xia Xinran.

Xia Xinran didn’t seem to like his task, so there was a flicker of hope in his eyes when Gu Jie approached. However, after a glance at Xia Xinran and his task, Gu Jie moved on again.

Xia Xinran couldn’t hide his disappointment as Gu Jie quickly finished checking Zhang Beichen and Lu Yiyao’s tasks and returned to his spot, telling the host, “I’ll swap with Xia Xinran.”

Happiness came so suddenly that Xia Xinran’s face lit up like a lightbulb being switched on.

“Good luck,” Gu Jie sincerely said as they exchanged tasks.

Xia Xinran nodded vigorously, for the first time finding this partner quite likable. “Yeah, you too!”

After the swap, Gu Jie immediately announced the task he got from Xia Xinran—”Time-Limited Climbing”.

Xia Xinran lacked the physical strength for it, so he frowned upon seeing the task. But for fitness enthusiast Gu Jie, it was a piece of cake. An easy climbing wall with a 20-minute time limit, Gu Jie finished it in just 14 minutes.

Coming down, he even told the host, “Actually, you guys can make the tasks harder next time.”

The host was thrilled, but the burning gaze from the other four participants could have turned him to ashes.

Next up was Ran Lin’s “Trust Fall”. It wasn’t hard—a common team-building exercise where one stands on a high platform and falls backward into the arms of teammates who form a safety net with their arms.

It looked completely unexciting.

But that moment of falling backward still required courage and trust in one’s partners.

Ran Lin had played this with classmates during school, so he was confident about it. Besides, the crew, worried about accidents, had placed a soft mat below the four men.

Less spectacular than Gu Jie’s climbing, Ran Lin fell backward into the arms of his partners—the whole process took less than two minutes.

Then it was Xia Xinran’s turn.

“I don’t really understand the task,” he said, looking puzzled. “Naughty Paper Slip… what’s that?”

The host, who had been holding back, finally smiled, fetching two paper trays from under the table next to the dark dishes. One was filled with paper slips, and the other was empty, placed at each end of the long table.

Then, she took Xia Xinran to the tray full of paper slips and announced the task. “Naughty Paper Slip means you have to transfer all the paper slips from this tray to the other one using only your mouth within ninety seconds.”

It took Xia Xinran a while to digest this rule, and then he exploded. “Why does it become so bizarre when it’s my turn—”

It was no wonder Xia Xinran was upset. The previous tasks like time-limited climbing and trust fall were typical team-building exercises, fitting the segment’s setting. But this mouth-transfer task seemed absurd.

The other male stars were already laughing themselves into knots; just imagining the scene was enough to amuse them.

Gu Jie didn’t laugh, but he internally sighed in relief and silently applauded his decision.

Xia Xinran sighed and resignedly told the host, “I’m ready. Start timing.”

Unexpectedly, the hostess shook her head, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I haven’t finished explaining the rules yet. You need to choose one of your fellow participants to help you with this task.”

Xia Xinran: “Huh?”

Gu, Ran, Lu, Zhang: “……”

The hostess gleefully dropped the final bombshell. “You need to transfer the paper slips to your partner’s mouth, and then they have to place them in the tray.”

The three male stars, who had been laughing moments ago, were completely dumbfounded, and the fourth, who hadn’t laughed, quietly joined them, all shaking in fear of the malevolence they sensed.

Xia Xinran’s bewildered gaze swept across the handsome faces of his four companions. Those who were looking at the sky kept looking, and those looking at the ground kept their gaze fixed, determined not to catch any signals.

Xia Xinran narrowed his eyes slightly, making up his mind. “Gu Jie…”

Every debt has its debtor, and the Naughty Paper Slip had its source. Gu Jie couldn’t complain.

The other three felt massive relief, as if reborn after a catastrophe. Gu Jie’s face darkened—the show could indeed stoop even lower.

Xia Xinran didn’t want to do a mouth-to-mouth, even through a paper slip, with another guy, but considering the bizarre juices and food, he’d rather fake a kiss.

“I refuse.” Gu Jie knew he couldn’t blame anyone but himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Xia Xinran didn’t expect this turn of events and blurted out, “You can’t refuse!”

Gu Jie spread his hands. “Why not? I choose the dark dish.”

Xia Xinran was on the verge of a breakdown. “You’d rather eat a dark dish than play a game with me!”

Gu Jie tilted his head, smiling slightly. “You might not like my answer.”

Xia Xinran was utterly despondent. Still, he asked the host in a last-ditch effort. “Can I choose someone else?”

The hostess gently shook her head.

Xia Xinran slumped onto the ground, leaning against the table. “Gu Jie, I hate you—”

Gu Jie, now immune to such childish animosity, swiftly picked up the wasabi rice in bamboo tubes, designated by the other three, and devoured it with grace, his gusto rivaling a grand sacrifice.

Perhaps considering Xia Xinran’s emotional state, and at Ran Lin’s suggestion, Zhang Beichen and Lu Yiyao agreed to give him the least offensive option, the super sour bitter gourd juice. No matter how bitter, he could gulp it down in one go.

So, Xia Xinran had to swallow the most bitter and sour drink of his life.

Zhang Beichen’s task was an obstacle run within two minutes, which he completed effortlessly with his agile skills.

Then it was Lu Yiyao’s turn, revealing his task—”High Altitude Broken Bridge”.

This task usually involved crossing a narrow plank bridge suspended eight meters above the ground, with a gap of about 1.2 to 1.4 meters in the middle. It wasn’t too difficult to step over a meter on the ground, but it was quite a psychological challenge on a narrow bridge in mid-air.

Still, they were all secured with safety ropes, so there was no real danger, making it more about symbolism, like Ran Lin’s trust fall.

As soon as Ran Lin entered the area, he noticed the broken bridge, so he wasn’t surprised when Lu Yiyao’s task turned out to be just that. But Xia Xinran was visibly frustrated, considering all the tasks seemed like team-building exercises except his, which felt like an outlier.

Just when everyone was getting a kick out of Xia Xinran’s situation, Lu Yiyao suddenly spoke up. “I choose the dark dish.”

The atmosphere instantly quieted down.

The four who had been jesting moments ago were stunned, thinking Lu Yiyao’s decision was rather inexplicable. The high-altitude broken bridge wasn’t too difficult, and for him to give up without even trying seemed too hasty.

Even the crew surrounding them was surprised.

If a fun-loving artist had said this, it would have been understandable as part of the show, but Lu Yiyao didn’t seem like someone who would sacrifice himself for the sake of entertainment.

His expression was grave, as if he was making a significant life decision.

“Are you sure?” The hostess asked incredulously.

Lu Yiyao’s lips formed a firm line as he nodded decisively.

The hostess reluctantly accepted his decision but quickly turned to the other four. “Male Gods, don’t hold back. Choose a dish for your partner.”

The four male stars exchanged glances and simultaneously pointed in one direction, their actions synchronized, their voices resolute—

“Insanely Spicy Rice Noodles!”

The entire place erupted in laughter.

Even the director turned away, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Lu Yiyao was in despair.

His current state mirrored the despondent faces he had woken up the night before to deliver rice noodles to.

It just goes to show, one really shouldn’t do bad things; even if it’s just once, the consequences will follow.

After much contemplation, Lu Yiyao finally felt ready. He took a deep breath, picked up the rice noodles, and started eating!

“Cough, cough, cough—”

Just two bites in, Lu Yiyao was forced to stop, coughing uncontrollably from the insanely spicy flavor.

Ran Lin watched with a bit of sympathy. Although they had chosen the spicy noodles for him partly out of retaliation, did the crew really have to make them that spicy? Couldn’t they have gone for something deliciously spicy instead?

“Hey, don’t—” Ran Lin shouted in alarm, but it was too late.

Lu Yiyao, desperate to soothe the burn and not paying attention to what he was grabbing, gulped down half a glass of the display-only lemon bitter gourd juice.

Now combining sour, bitter, and spicy, with only sweetness missing, Lu Yiyao spat everything out, his face contorting more pitifully than a bitter gourd.

No one expected Lu Yiyao to make the situation even worse for himself. Even if it wasn’t an act, it was certainly entertaining enough to last a year. The cameraman almost shoved the camera right up to his face.

Ran Lin couldn’t find it in himself to laugh, seeing the tears in Lu Yiyao’s eyes from the genuine discomfort.

Looking around anxiously, he finally spotted someone from the show’s logistics team.

Ran Lin dashed over, pushed through the crowd, and snatched two bottles of pure water from the crew’s supplies.

He quickly returned and handed them to Lu Yiyao. The coughing man didn’t even look up before unscrewing the cap and chugging the water down. He drank and gargled, finishing half of the bottle in the blink of an eye.

Lu Yiyao finally felt a bit better, catching his breath with his hands on his knees, feeling like he had narrowly escaped death. “Thanks.”

Ran Lin watched his back, wanting to pat him but ultimately refraining, advising instead, “Drink the rest of the water too. Otherwise, even if the spice leaves your mouth, it’ll still burn your stomach.”

Lu Yiyao, surprised to hear Ran Lin’s voice, turned around to look.

Ran Lin felt a bit uneasy under his gaze and cleared his throat, finding another topic. “Regret choosing the dark dish now? That broken bridge wasn’t so bad. I’ve jumped it before. You can cross in one leap, and you’re tied to a safety rope, so it’s perfectly safe.”

Lu Yiyao straightened up and looked at him for a long time.

Ran Lin felt like Lu Yiyao wanted to say something, as his eyes flickered with emotion and his lips moved slightly several times.

But in the end, Lu Yiyao said nothing.

Zhang Beichen was declared the winner of the Landscape First Love.

The final decision was made between him and Gu Jie, with Ran Lin and Xia Xinran both casting their votes for him.

However, even after the filming ended and Ran Lin returned to Beijing late at night, he was still pondering Lu Yiyao’s hesitation. So much so that he even dreamed about it.

In the dream, after hearing his theory about the broken bridge, Lu Yiyao hesitated just as in reality but eventually said—

“What does it matter to you what I choose?”

After that night, Ran Lin lost all curiosity.

In the following week, he spent most of his time preparing for auditions for two roles Wang Xi had secured for him, and the incident was pushed to the back of his mind.


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

Midnight Owl Ch8

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 8: New Coordinates

Xu Wang didn’t want to get entangled with him on this dangerous topic. He simply assumed the “landlord” attitude and decisively pushed the person back to the living room.

Under the same roof, one sitting on the sofa, the other on a chair, they looked at each other across the coffee table, and the air suddenly became quiet.

Xu Wang’s face remained normal, but his heart was already pounding against the wall. He knew that being alone with the other person would lead to this fatal situation!

“You…”

Surprisingly, Wu Sheng was the first to speak, something Xu Wang hadn’t expected at all. He thought he was the only one desperately searching for a topic.

“How are you feeling?”

“…..”

What kind of question is that?

“Enough to beat two of you.”

“I’m asking about the wound on your shoulder.”

“……”

The successive arrivals of Kuang Jinxin and Sun Jiang finally put an end to the awkward conversation. They probably sneaked in some sleep during the day and looked quite spirited.

At midnight, the expected hooting of the Owl’s cry arrived.

“Hoot hoot—”

The living room remained unchanged, and the three looked towards Xu Wang, who sighed and stood up to lead his companions to the bedroom.

A bed of quicksand.

Wu Sheng nodded. “This door… is quite unique.”

Unlike the previous forceful drags, this time the four of them willingly jumped in, with a bit of solemnity heading into battle.

Xu Wang was the last to dive in. Before leaving, he pocketed a fruit knife from the desk.

He experienced familiar weightlessness and rapid falling, and then, in the blink of an eye, all four crashed into the snow.

As they landed, all four arms rang out almost simultaneously, each with more than one sound, and the dense, fluctuating “dings” intertwined into a rapid, noisy chorus.

Having learned from the previous experience, this time everyone had rolled up their sleeves before entering Owl, so when they heard the prompt, all four sitting on the ground uniformly raised their arms to check.

Xu Wang received four new messages. Two from the [Stationery Box], with two new item icons appearing in the previously empty slots: [(Defense) Circular Ground Prison1] and [(Offense) Cao Chong Weighing the Elephant2]; one from [Cheat Sheet], updating coordinates to (109.7395, 38.3437); and one from [Report Card], which was the same information they had seen before—[Kuang Jinxin, Sun Jiang, Wu Sheng, Xu Wang, 1/23 submissions].

1Draw a circle on the ground to serve as a prison (画地为牢) Idiom referring to setting a strict limit or creating a situation where one’s movements or thoughts are restricted.
2(曹冲称象) This comes from the story where Cao Chong received an elephant from an ambassador. Everyone was curious about the weight but had no way to measure it, so Cao Chong proposed to place the elephant onto a boat and mark the waterline. After the elephant was removed, he filled the boat with a known load of weight until it reached the waterline, thus allowing them to calculate the elephant’s weight.

From the information in the [Report Card], these things should have been sent at the moment of clearing the challenge, and it was very likely that they were immediately snapped back to reality after their submission, which was why they only received them today.

“The ‘Owl’ knows our names.” Wu Sheng stated calmly as he too saw the [Report Card], but his words felt heavy.

“It can suck us in, lead us around like monkeys to do tasks and overcome challenges, so nothing it does would surprise me now,” Xu Wang self-mockingly said, actually to reassure Wu Sheng and himself. “Right now, I’m more concerned about this,” he said, showing the [Stationery Box] on his arm to his teammates, pointing to the two new slots. “‘Circular Ground Prison’ is probably for trapping beasts, but what the hell is this ‘Cao Chong Weighing the Elephant’?”

Surprise flashed through Wu Sheng’s eyes. He didn’t respond but instead revealed his own arm.

That’s when Xu Wang saw that his [Stationery Box] had been updated with [(Defense) Cicada Shed Its Shell1] and [(Offense) Wind That Sweeps Away the Clouds2].

1(金蝉脱壳) Idiom referring creating an illusion to escape so the other party can’t detect in time. It can also mean a fundamental change in things.
2(风卷残云) Idiom referring to sweeping away everything at once.

Xu Wang then looked at the other two teammates. The coordinates updated in the [Cheat Sheet] and the submission information in the [Report Card] were completely consistent, but uniquely in the [Stationery Box], Kuang Jinxin had [(Defense) A Clever Rabbit Has Three Burrows1] and [(Offense) Tears Like Rain2], while Sun Jiang had [(Defense) Lost in a Five-Mile Fog3] and [(Offense) Bolt from the Blue4].

1(狡兔三窟) Idiom referring to a smart individual who has multiple plans or strategies to ensure safety and survival. In modern day, it has a more negative tone, implying that someone is cunning.
2(泪如雨下) Idiom referring a state of extreme sadness (to the point where that person is crying profusely with tears streaming down their face like rain).
3(五里雾中) Idiom referring to a state of confusion and being unable where one is unable to see the truth.
4(晴天霹雳) Idiom referring to a sudden or shocking event or disaster.

Previously, aside from the [Skate Shoes] everyone had the same items, which led them to naturally assume that new items would be the same for everyone. It wasn’t just Xu Wang, but Wu Sheng, Sun Jiang, and Kuang Jinxing all thought this.

However, what puzzled them more was the nature of the items.

The ones with (Defense) at the front were easier to understand. By comparing them to the similarly (Defense) [Jingle Bells] and [Fishnado], it was known that they were for escaping and self-protection, focused on defense rather than offense. But the (Offense) items appearing for the first time seemed to carry a subtle and eerie aspect.

“Wind That Sweeps Away the Clouds.” Wu Sheng pondered for a moment and nodded. “Understood, it summons a great wind as a weapon.”

Xu Wang didn’t know where his certainty came from, but he had to admit that compared to his own [Cao Chong Weighing the Elephant], the other’s weapon at least had a clear direction in its name.

Looking at it this way, Sun Jiang’s was even clearer. [Bolt from the Blue]—isn’t that just about striking down whoever you aim at!

“Xu Ge,” Kuang Jinxin timidly interrupted Xu Wang’s wild musings. “If you don’t like Weighing the Elephant, we can trade.”

Whether the items in the [Stationery Box] could be exchanged was still unknown, but Xu Wang stared at Kuang Jinxin’s [Tears Like Rain] for a long time before shaking his head firmly, responding, “It’s destined to be yours. You keep it.”

Kuang Jinxin looked at those four characters that had nothing to do with “offense” and felt like crying right then.

“If these items are needed for the second challenge, why did we all get different ones?” Sun Jiang wondered, or rather, was reluctant to accept this reality. “If it’s like the [Skate Shoes] before, needed in specific situations to function, then if we fail the challenge and come back a second time, won’t we be without items?”

“Maybe it’s not that complicated. Perhaps it’s simply a reward for the last submission.” Xu Wang stood up, brushing off the snow. He was nervous in spirit but couldn’t hold back the fatigue, yawning several times. “Who knows. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

Sun Jiang was already standing, looking around, ready for action. Seeing Wu Sheng still slowly getting up, he was almost frustrated to death. “Are you planning to take a nap before getting up?”

“Not really.” Wu Sheng finally stood up, but his speech remained unhurried. “But I always feel that there’s no use in hurrying tonight unless any of you can conjure up an airplane.”

Sun Jiang frowned. “What do you mean?”

Xu Wang and Kuang Jinxin also looked at him in confusion.

Wu Sheng extended his arm and pointed to the new coordinates on the [Cheat Sheet]. “This place is not in Beijing.”

Sun Jiang, initially a bit confrontational, laughed dismissively with a clear scoff of disbelief. “Then tell us, where is this place?”

Unperturbed, Wu Sheng scrolled back to the owl’s head, retracting his arm, and confidently uttered two words, “Northern Shaanxi.”

Practice is the only criterion for testing truth*.

*It’s an article written by Chinese intellectual Hu Fuming. The saying itself refers to looking at empirical evidence and real-world application in verifying theories, ideas, or beliefs. In this context, it’s like saying look for the evidence that the coordinates are actually in Northern Shaanxi. 

After the group had walked in the snowfield for nearly two hours, covering both familiar and unfamiliar territory without triggering any events or challenges or encountering any wild animals, Sun Jiang, who was completely disbelieving, and Kuang Jinxin, who was half-doubtful, were thoroughly convinced.

Xu Wang had expected this outcome and wasn’t surprised at all.

The four sat down in a cave not far from the ice waterfall. The rocky ground was cold, but that was better than the snow. Xu Wang checked his phone—it was only half past two in the morning.

“Are we really going to sit here until five?” Xu Wang had been prematurely ejected twice before, once injured and once after submission, and had never experienced a “clock out” without any incident.

“You could also sing and dance to kill some time.” Wu Sheng, holding a stone picked up from somewhere, drew on the ground, casually giving a completely disinterested suggestion. “Anyway, it’s just us four here. Even if your singing is terrible, it won’t attract any demons or ghosts.”

Xu Wang gritted his teeth, about to retort, when he saw Kuang Jinxin leaning over to Wu Sheng, seriously observing the “artwork” on the ground, and asked, “Wu Ge, what are you drawing?”

Wu Sheng, focused entirely, didn’t raise his head. “A latitude and longitude map.”

The more Kuang Jinxin looked, the more familiar the contour of the grid-covered figure seemed—isn’t that the shape of the motherland! He incredulously widened his eyes. “Wu Ge, have you really memorized the entire country’s latitudes and longitudes and corresponding locations?!”

Wu Sheng continued without stopping. “Not all. Still missing a few provinces.”

“That’s impressive enough!” Kuang Jinxin’s eyes shone. “Just now, you looked at the coordinates and said it was Northern Shaanxi. I didn’t dare believe it. I thought, how can there be such a godly person who can pinpoint a location with just a glance!”

Finally, Wu Sheng put down the stone and slowly lifted his head. His face had a smile full of “modesty” plastered on it. “It’s actually not as complicated as you think. Just two maps, one of latitudes and longitudes, the other a map. You overlap them in your mind, use a regional division method…”

“Wu Sheng—” Xu Wang rolled his eyes, interrupting him, his drawn-out tone full of a “please stop showing off” warning.

Wu Sheng resignedly gave a “got it” look and turned back to Kuang Jinxin, much more grounded. “Memory, it’s innate.”

Kuang Jinxin: “……”

Xu Wang: “……”

No need to be so brutally honest!

The struck student, Kuang Jinxin, shrank to a corner, looking utterly pitiable. Xu Wang thought to say something comforting, and as he got up, his hand unintentionally brushed his pocket. He suddenly paused, patted the pocket again, still not feeling anything, and finally reached into the pocket to feel around—empty.

The fruit knife was gone.

He clearly remembered placing it in this pocket when he entered…

“What’s wrong?” Wu Sheng, noticing Xu Wang patting his pocket, looked up and sensed something was amiss.

There was no point in hiding it, so Xu Wang told the truth. “I brought a fruit knife in for self-defense, but now it’s gone.”

Sun Jiang and Kuang Jinxin looked over nervously. In a place where anything could happen, losing a knife could be a minor or a major issue.

Wu Sheng frowned but remained calm. “Did you still have it when you entered, or did you just now realize it’s gone?”

“Does it make a difference?” Sun Jiang didn’t follow his train of thought. “It’s gone either way.”

Xu Wang understood. He had only been acquainted with Wu Sheng of ten years later for one day and three nights, but he already deeply felt the man’s “programmer’s thinking”. Everything was binary: 1 was 1 and 0 was 0. The logic had to be clear, conditions explicit, with no 0.5 middle ground.

“I haven’t touched my pockets since entering, so I can’t be sure if it just disappeared or was gone the moment we entered.”

“Then there’s nothing to be done.” Wu Sheng was annoyed, obviously bothered by the lack of a clear answer. “The conditions aren’t enough to determine if this place automatically blocks ‘offensive’ items, or if you carelessly left it somewhere here.”

Xu Wang wasn’t insistent on finding the truth. After all, compared to a small fruit knife, the update of the [Cheat Sheet] was more concerning. “If that coordinate is really in Northern Shaanxi…”

“There are no ifs.” Wu Sheng cut him off without hesitation, emphasizing his point. “It is.”

If it weren’t for the need to maintain the team, Xu Wang would have really wanted to kick him. “Fine—it is. Then how are we supposed to get there?”

“Since we can’t get through here, we’ll have to go through the real world,” Wu Sheng answered matter-of-factly, without a second thought.

“How am I supposed to ask for leave from my boss?” Xu Wang struggled to maintain a smile, simulating a possible workplace conversation, word for word, gritting his teeth. “Boss, may I take a few days off? Why? I’d like to visit the old revolutionary base.”

Wu Sheng: “Okay, that’s a solid reason.”

Xu Wang: “Come here.”

Wu Sheng: “I refuse.”

Xu Wang: “I promise not to hit you.”

Wu Sheng: “But you’ll kiss me.”

Xu Wang: “……”

A single misstep can lead to eternal regret*!

*(一失足成千古恨啊) Idiom referring to once a mistake is made, you will hate it for life.

“Ding—”

An unexpected prompt tone was especially piercing in the cave.

Xu Wang immediately looked down.

This new message was from the [Roster].

His [Roster] interface was originally—

1/23 Xu Wang [Withdraw]

1/23 Kuang Jinxin [Kick]

1/23 Sun Jiang [Kick]

1/23 Wu Sheng [Kick]

But now only three people remained on the list, and the words “Sun Jiang has withdrawn” scrolled from left to right on it.

Wu Sheng and Kuang Jinxin, also looking down at their messages, saw it clearly on their own arms.

Before the three could speak, Sun Jiang laughed first, a mix of apology and bitterness. “I won’t leave Beijing. Even if I could take leave from work, I can’t explain it at home. Just mentioning it gives me a headache. Even if I could tell, no one would believe it, and I can’t let my wife and kids worry about me every day…”

Then he shifted his tone, lightening up. “But if I don’t go, even if you get there, you probably won’t trigger the new challenge. Rather than waiting to be kicked out, I might as well make room…”

His seemingly carefree tone was full of sincerity.

“Since withdrawal from the team is allowed, surely adding members is also possible. Don’t worry, I have a feeling that the people you’ll meet next will definitely be more reliable than this old guy.”


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

Midnight Owl Ch7

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 7: Uneasiness

Owl, pronounced like “xiao”, only appears in the dictionary as one part of the term for “strigidae*”, a bird with a large head and a short, curved beak, encompassing many varieties, of which the owl is one.

*Clarity: The symbol engraved on their arm is owl [xiao] (鸮), which is pronounced like [xiao] (萧). It is part of the word strigidae [chi xiao] (鸱鸮), which is the family of birds owls belong to. However, owl [mao tou ying] (猫头鹰), which literally means “cat-headed hawk”, is more commonly and widely used.

After checking an online dictionary, the true nature of those few “hoots” at midnight surfaced.

It was the call of an owl, also the death knell signaling the start of the “Magical Moment”.

Dawn was approaching, and the sky to the east was turning pale, signifying life was returning to its normal track.

Sun Jiang was a driving instructor with students to teach today, so he was the first to leave. Kuang Jinxin was a senior majoring in tea science, currently interning at a tea house. According to him, the tea house owner was quite considerate, and taking another day off wouldn’t be a problem. However, they didn’t have much else to do but wait for the night, so after some persuasion from Wu Sheng and Xu Wang, Kuang Jinxin also went back to his internship.

After seeing them off, Xu Wang naturally turned his gaze to Wu Sheng, subtly indicating it was time for him to leave too. Deep down, he wished for more time with Wu Sheng, but rationally, he knew this interaction was pointless and harmful.

Wu Sheng caught the hint but didn’t act on it. Instead, he stood up as if eager to “deepen the reunion mood”. “Won’t you show me around?”

With no outsiders present, Xu Wang bluntly slapped the idea down. “It’s not a museum. What’s there to see?” Besides, with just a living room and a bedroom, the only place left to see was the bedroom, and any visit there without a “clear purpose” was dubious!

“Why such a big reaction? Unless…” Wu Sheng teased, his eyes drifting towards the bedroom. “Is there something in there you don’t want seen?”

Xu Wang was momentarily speechless, glaring at Wu Sheng before squeezing out, “How come you’re still so annoying after ten years?”

Wu Sheng glanced at him, the same old disdain. “Like you’ve made any progress.”

The two were like Mr. Wang meeting Mr. Yu1. The difference was only slight, yet each was well-versed in the other’s dark past. Thus, in their mutual mockery, neither could achieve an overwhelming victory. One wrong move may even lead to a situation where they inflict a thousand damages on the opponent but suffer eight hundred themselves2.

1Basically saying they are almost exactly the same with some minor differences. The name Wang (王) and Yu (玉) are almost the same characters, with the Yu having a minor difference.
2Line from Art of War by Sun Tzu describing a situation where there would be mutual losses that aren’t that different on either side, thus both sides would suffer losses.

Eventually, they both realized this and called a temporary truce.

However, as they caught up on recent times, Wu Sheng began to doubt Xu Wang’s career description. “Real estate consultant?”

Xu Wang defiantly retorted, “Is there a problem?”

Wu Sheng leaned back, crossing his legs and holding his cup with a genteel smile. “So, you sell houses.”

Xu Wang narrowed his eyes. “And what industry have you, the returnee entrepreneur, dabbled in?”

Wu Sheng took a sip of water. “Software development.”

Xu Wang nodded. “A code monkey*, then.”

*Coding peasant/farmer (码农) It’s a self-depreciating term for a programmer or software developer. In this context, he’s basically making a jab at Wu Sheng (instead of using a term like software engineer), responding to Wu Sheng’s comment, “Oh, so you just sell houses.”

Wu Sheng choked on his water as Xu Wang crossed his legs, his feet shaking gleefully.

Strangely, despite ten years apart, their banter felt like a return to high school days. Xu Wang thought maybe it was because they had missed all the awkward reintroduction phase in their rush of events and went straight into a chapter of “We’re still good old pals”.

As the day progressed, Xu Wang checked his phone and realized he needed to catch the subway or he’d be skipping work. He got up decisively, signaling Wu Sheng to leave. “Alright, go back to wherever you need to. I have to work.”

Wu Sheng looked at him incredulously, as if the concept of work was foreign. “Sun Jiang works because he has a family to feed; Kuang Jinxin because his internship is tied to his final evaluation. You neither have a family to support nor are you a student. With such a significant event happening, shouldn’t you sit down and plan instead of going to work?”

Xu Wang wanted to smack this guy with the sole of his shoe when he heard that tone of voice.

Upon hearing this kind of indifferent tone, Xu Wang felt like slapping someone with his shoe. “I might not have a family, but I can’t live off air. I might not die popping out of Owl, but if I don’t go to work today, someone really might.”

After taking a leave the previous day, another absence would likely mean losing his job.

“Forget it. I can’t argue with you rich folks,” Xu Wang dismissed, ending the conversation. If he continued the conversation, he felt like he would be just wallowing in self-pity.

Wu Sheng frowned, playing the innocent card. “How am I considered rich…”

Xu Wang rolled his eyes and went to change clothes, no longer interested in arguing. He had heard from a classmate who returned from the US that Wu Sheng was making waves in Silicon Valley, having earned his first pot of gold soon after college, seemingly on track to rival the likes of Zuckerberg.

The classmate might have exaggerated, but the envy was real, showing that they truly believed Wu Sheng was faring much better. This classmate, successful in their own right, already earned a significant salary before thirty.

As Xu Wang emerged from the bedroom in a business suit, he found Wu Sheng still lounging on the couch, not making any move to leave, legs crossed in the same angle. Xu Wang was exasperated. “What’s your plan, really? Squatting here all day?”

Wu Sheng, caught off-guard by Xu Wang’s fresh attire, stared for a moment with an indescribable glint in his eyes.

Uncomfortable under the gaze, Xu Wang shouted, “Hey—”

Wu Sheng finally snapped out of it, looking down to pick up his cup. “Ah, I told my partners I wouldn’t be going to the office today.”

Xu Wang’s initial confusion at him reaching for an empty cup turned to frustration at his words. “You mean you’re planning to stay here all day?!”

Wu Sheng looked up and drank for a long time, only to realize that the cup had long been empty. He then put it down naturally and slowly raised his head, his face already filled with righteous determination. “Your lives are important, so I must be the one to sacrifice. Someone has to think about how to deal with Owl.”

“You could think somewhere else.”

“I don’t have a place in Beijing.”

“Bullshit!”

“No, I don’t have any shit*.”

*Clarity: It’s a play on response to Xu Wang’s calling him out on his lie, and he’s responding with “I’m really not lying.” (humorously). This is not meant to be I don’t have shit (in the sense that you have nothing).

“…”

Throughout high school, Xu Wang’s success rate against Wu Sheng was a steady 50%. Now as an adult, after ten years of different experiences, Xu Wang sadly realized his winning rate seemed to have dropped.

“Don’t go through my stuff,” Xu Wang warned as if he were giving a death order. He stood at the door, directing a stern look at Wu Sheng. “If I find out you did…” He narrowed his eyes dangerously. “We’re done.”

Wu Sheng nodded with unprecedented sincerity and seriousness.

Very good. There are definitely secrets in the bedroom.

The security door clicked tightly shut.

Xu Wang sighed in frustration at his own lack of resolve and hung his head while waiting for the elevator.

Wu Sheng stroked his chin, eyeing the tightly sealed bedroom door, imagining countless unspeakable things inside.

A single door separated a world of thoughts.

As Xu Wang squeezed onto the subway, Wu Sheng, who had been hovering in front of the bedroom door for nearly half an hour, received a call from his partner. The program they had been developing had hit a technical snag that none of the engineers could solve, and it was up to him, as the CTO and co-owner, to step in.

Wu Sheng sighed into the phone. The joy he had just accumulated was disturbed. “Aren’t you a boss too? Couldn’t you handle such a minor issue?”

The voice on the other end had suddenly sharpened. “Minor issue? If I could have handled this ‘minor issue’, I wouldn’t have invested the same amount of money for only a three percent share, leaving you with seven.”

Wu Sheng was speechless. How does that old saying go? The greater the share, the greater the responsibility.

“Have Xiao Mu bring my laptop over. I’ll send you the address later.”

“Can’t you come back to the office? What’s so important that you can’t leave for a bit?”

“I don’t have the keys.”

“What?”

“No keys, so I can’t leave. If I leave, I won’t be able to get back in.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

After a long pause, Wu Sheng heard his partner ask, “You’re not doing something illegal, are you…?”

The laptop was quickly brought over, but the “minor issue” was proven to be not so minor after all. By the time everything was resolved, it was already 2 p.m. Wu Sheng sent the data back to the office, forgetting about the bedroom mystery as he glanced at the time and immediately dived back into the external network…

Xu Wang had been restless all day, worried about the secrets in his bedroom being discovered. He had kept reassuring himself that there was nothing to worry about; after all, they agreed he would end the friendship if Wu Sheng snooped around, so he wouldn’t dare.

Perhaps it was the excessive worrying that had led him to sleep deeply during his lunch break and even dream vaguely. In the dream, Wu Sheng had stood in the center of his bedroom, holding a box-like trophy, much like a Marvel villain holding the Tesseract.

Maybe it was a stroke of luck or simply hitting rock bottom and bouncing back, but a client that Xu Wang had been nurturing decided to come in for a signing that afternoon. Originally, it wasn’t Xu Wang who was supposed to receive the client today, but the client insisted on him, having appreciated his patient introduction of various floor plans and realistic outlook on future developments of the surrounding area, and ended up signing for the largest unit in the building.

If this set sold, the commission alone would be over twenty thousand, which would count towards the total performance. This was directly linked to the performance calculation for his year-end bonus.

Riding on the momentum of this deal, Xu Wang shrugged off his previous fatigue and worries and left work in high spirits. Even when squeezing into the subway, he was particularly spirited.

When he arrived at the door of his house, Xu Wang couldn’t explain his feelings. From taking out the keys to opening the door, he was extremely cautious, almost as if he were a thief entering someone else’s home.

As he opened the door and entered the entryway, it was quiet. If not for the neon lights outside the window casting a faint glow, he might not have noticed Wu Sheng asleep on the sofa.

The person was sitting on the sofa, head tilted, sleeping soundly. On the coffee table, there was a laptop that Xu Wang had never seen before, its screen flickering with a cool light. It was unclear whether Wu Sheng had just fallen asleep or the laptop itself had disabled sleep mode, so even without operation, the screen remained bright.

Tiptoeing to the sofa, Xu Wang leaned down slightly, seriously observing this person for the first time since they had reunited.

Eyes, nose, mouth—almost no change—still as appealing when smiling as before. The term “charming appearance” was a label Xu Wang had unilaterally assigned to Wu Sheng’s looks back in high school, even though the latter had never dated throughout those three years.

Breathing, as Xu Wang peeked, brushed against Wu Sheng’s eyelashes. Whether real or imagined, those lashes suddenly trembled. Feeling guilty, Xu Wang quickly straightened up and pretended to look elsewhere.

This pretense led his gaze to the laptop’s screen.

The screen was full of English text. Xu Wang chewed over it and finally grasped two frequently appearing words—Multiverse, Parallel universe.

Xu Wang recognized only one word, “universe”, so he took out his phone to look up online translations, finding the first word to be “multiverse” and the second term “parallel universes.”

Xu Wang had no research on these profound topics but having watched many sci-fi movies and connected them with his recent experiences, he roughly understood what Wu Sheng was researching.

He was seriously studying, not just talking about it.

When encountering a problem, he must confront it head-on; the word “avoid” was definitely not in Wu Sheng’s dictionary—that was his temperament ten years ago.

Quietly returning to the bedroom, the first thing Xu Wang did after closing the door wasn’t to turn on the light and change clothes, but to check a box hidden in the deepest corner of the wardrobe. Only after confirming that it hadn’t been moved, he patted his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

“What are you rummaging for?” A questioning voice came from the doorway, with a subtly rising tone.

Xu Wang’s scalp tingled, and he immediately slammed the wardrobe door shut, looking up to meet Wu Sheng’s probing gaze, trying to exude an aura of inviolability from head to toe. “I’m looking for clothes to change into. What’s it to you! Also, this is my home. Could you knock before entering!”

Wu Sheng crossed his arms, leaning against the door frame, leisurely watching him. “I did knock, but you might have been too sneakily engrossed to hear.”


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

Full Server First Kill Ch116

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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


Chapter 116: The Endless Sea Tour

[King of Sleep: You will twist the minds of your enemies, luring all beings into slumber. You know, sleep is but a momentary death. 

※Cooldown 30 minutes, actual effects vary based on individual mental resistance.]

Nol’s attention was momentarily captured by the skill description.

Teest was clever. Having witnessed Nol enhance his skill earlier, he surely wouldn’t foolishly choose a normal Player skill that could be upgraded regularly. So his choice of skills was very limited—as far as Nol knew, Teest’s monster abilities included [Dream Manipulation], [Charm], and another skill he claimed wasn’t very useful.

The higher-tier skill of [Dream Manipulation] was the Succubus Queen’s [Dream Dominion]. Could it be…

Nol remembered clearly that [Charm] indeed had no higher-tier skill. But then again, wasn’t Teest a bit too free-spirited? [Charm] was no small skill. Wasn’t he afraid of enhancing it into something bizarre?

[You enhanced the Charm skill?!] Nol asked in shock.

[Yes.]

Teest shook the rotten blood off his sword. [It’s usually not useful, has no higher-tier skill, and is a mental magic, making it the most suitable choice.]

Nol had no words. [King of Sleep] was undoubtedly a powerful mental control skill, though the name was a bit odd. Just by its effects, calling it [Sleep] would be enough. Where did that “King” come from?

But now that it was done, he didn’t feel it was right to nag his knight.

[That useless skill of yours…] Nol trailed off.

[It really is useless, at least for now.] Teest looked up, adjusting his jumping posture.

He raised his small round shield with his left hand and plunged the long sword into the “War King’s” only remaining eyeball. Foul, toxic liquid splashed out. Teest protected his head with the round shield, while Nol’s protective magic provided double assurance.

Even so, the toxic liquid quickly evaporated upon hitting the ground, turning into a deadly vapor.

Fischer grimaced as he cast dark magic. Before the poisonous mist could disperse, he gathered it into a one-square area with his [Toxin Gather].

A few steps away, Anakin was prepared. The moment [Toxin Gather] finished, the brilliance of the “Festival of New Green” surged, turning the brown-black fog light and dense and transforming it into a pool of clear water.

Abandon dared not breathe, his limbs numb, as he threw status effect spells upwards.

The War King’s head woke up from the severe pain. It opened its gaping mouth, letting out an inhuman roar of anger, and shook its head wildly. The ground trembled as dozens of exquisitely armored skeletons rose from the ground, attacking Teest who hadn’t yet landed.

Teest pulled out his sword and elegantly somersaulted in the air for leverage, pinning it into a crevice in the bricks. He twisted around and blew a kiss towards Nol below.

Nol helplessly raised his staff, tapping the ground twice with its end. Invisible ripples spread out, and the death knight skeletons chasing Teest instantly froze in place, turning into statues.

This was one of the reasons Nol chose the War King dungeon for leveling—

Most of this boss’ skills were of the necromancy type!

According to system settings, these undead were absolutely obedient to the monsterized War King.

According to system settings, ordinary undead were absolutely obedient to the Dracolich, who was at the pinnacle of necromancy.

…Of course, the system couldn’t comprehend why an idle Dracolich would join Players in a dungeon.

Thus, the undead were perfectly stuck.

They couldn’t decide whether to assist their mad king or submit to the higher-ranked undead overlord. So they wracked their non-existent brains and chose the most helpless ostrich strategy—let the two leaders sort it out themselves; a mere worker couldn’t take such a risk.

So, to outsiders, it seemed the Master of Paradise did virtually nothing, and the undead petrified themselves.

Painter raised his eyebrows and let out a soft “oh” in surprise.

Completely incomprehensible. Abandon was sweating profusely. Even if Hot Ash himself were here, a fierce battle would be unavoidable. With the sleeping boss first and the frozen undead after, what was the deal with this master and servant?

The monsterized War King, not very intelligent, noticed that the knights didn’t come to its aid and continued to roar and summon in rage. The death knight skeletons popped up like bamboo shoots after rain, solidifying and piling up into a small hill on the platform.

Teest used these human-shaped stepping stones, making his movements even more dazzling.

Each strike of his sword hit a weak spot, taking away a chunk of health. The War King’s huge head was now a vulnerability, and no matter how it tried to evade, it couldn’t escape fast enough.

When it tried to attack Teest directly, Nol’s magic always arrived timely, either decisively protecting Teest or directly interrupting the boss’s big moves.

Teest threw [King of Sleep] as soon as it was off cooldown, and while the head fell into slumber, Nol prepared a burst of magic for a combined heavy hit.

The entire battle was controlled in the upper area of the field, with the remaining five people just picking up the slack and dealing with the AOE attacks.

Initially, Painter could cooperate in attacks. But as the number of death knights on the ground increased, he found it inconvenient to act.

Painter’s holy magic was too strong and widespread. Teest’s undead stepping stones melted like snow. The Mad Monk almost slipped and shot Painter an extremely displeased look.

So Painter blatantly started slacking off, twirling his brush with a cheerful smile. Only when the head came into his attack range did he symbolically strike once—and that strike was always precise and fierce, leaving no room for error.

What should have been an extremely dangerous battle ended in a cycle of high-frequency attacks—sleep burst—high-frequency attacks, taking less than two hours.

This was a prelude to an S-level side quest!

Abandon hadn’t fought it himself, but he had heard about it. As far as he knew, once an S-level side quest battle began, it took at least six hours, testing Players’ overall skills. Moreover, this was pioneering, and for such a high-level task, “Nothing achieved even after days” was the norm.

Not to mention, only those two people were leading the fight, and by all appearances, neither of the two monsters had exerted their full strength—

At the end of the fight, Abandon looked the most disheveled.

He sat on the ground by the wall, his clothes soaked enough to wring out water. The others seemed fine, just showing signs of fatigue. The most exaggerated were the master and servant pair.

The succubus knight asked the Master for some purification spells to clean his clothing corners. He looked no different from before the battle began, his hair fresh and fluffy, and he barely sweated. He sheathed his long sword and cozily approached the Master.

The Master, too, was composed, not showing any sign of having blasted the head apart. The scattered fangs were still at his feet, and Abandon didn’t want to look too closely.

All he knew was that the master and servant stood amid the wreckage, as relaxed as if on a spring outing.

…True monsters.

Curious about the Master’s race, Abandon strained to see under the cloak. Unfortunately, the Master seemed to have used some magic to shroud his face in shadows.

He reached out to arrange his succubus knight’s hair. The hand was slender, pale, and beautiful, with no strange scales, much like a young man’s hand. Beyond that, Abandon couldn’t guess.

Perhaps he observed them too long, for the succubus glanced at him again. Those golden eyes held no softness, and Abandon felt as if he’d been shot by a golden bullet.

So, Mr. Abandon quickly averted his gaze, turning instead to the grotesque, shattered giant head.

“Come and accept the quest.” The Master of Paradise pointed to a piece of debris.

It was the War King’s skull, the pure gold crown deeply embedded into the flesh, nailed together with the bone.

The crown was luxurious, intricately designed, inlaid with gems of various sizes. The central red gem was as tall as a person, attracting the attention of all creatures present, its brilliance almost blinding.

But the Master was pointing inside the crown.

Carefully turning it over, they saw a knight’s corpse.

The corpse was clad in silver-white armor with a crimson cloak wrapped around it. His sword and shield were present, covered in patchy bloodstains. The knight’s limbs were pierced by golden chains, their ends firmly fixed inside the crown, “back-to-back” with the outer red gems.

“So this is the ‘gem’ embedded inside the crown.” Teest admired. “The color match is perfect.”

“According to legend, this was the War King’s brother.” Nol gazed at the knight’s remains.

A common story.

Two princes of the era of strife, both smart and close in age. Only the elder brother was cruel and suspicious, while the younger was kind and compassionate.

To dispel his brother’s doubts and wariness, the loyal younger brother publicly swore to become his knight.

But what awaited him was endless chaotic war.

The War King was never satisfied, but his knight could no longer bear the bloodshed. After winning a hundred battles, the younger brother pleaded with the king day and night, refusing to go to battle again.

The king said, “If you are truly loyal to me, choose between war and death.”

The knight replied, “Please bury me in the Endless Sea. These eyes have seen too much bloodshed. I only wish to sleep in the endless blue.”

After that, the loyal knight was never seen again.

These backgrounds, Nol had told Teest as a bedtime story. His knight tilted his head. “I can’t understand. That guy’s ‘loyalty’ is meaningless. It’s so stupid.”

…A very Mad Monk’s statement. Nol couldn’t help but sigh.

He lowered his magic staff, cut the chains off the knight’s limbs, and then touched the exquisitely beautiful silver-white helmet.

[You have triggered an S-level side quest: The Ancient Knight’s Last Wish.]

[Completion conditions: Deliver the Ancient Knight’s skeleton intact to the circular deserted island in the Endless Sea and sink it in the center of the circle.]

[Reward: A large amount of experience points; Ancient Silver Light Armor “Knight’s Will” × 1; White Steel Longsword “Knight’s Loyalty” × 1; Royal Crest Iron-Shaped Shield “Knight’s Benevolence” × 1.]

[Failure penalty: Cannot accept this quest again.]

[※ This task is limited to 1-6 people (including hired NPCs), no team requirements.]

“Everyone, touch the helmet in turn.” Nol moved aside to make space. “By the way, Fischer, stay away.”

In theory, Painter was a player’s hired NPC, but Fischer didn’t get a penny from start to finish. If they treat him as a “good person” who draws his sword to help others in a crisis, the system can’t do anything.

Fischer let out a dissatisfied sob, sadly glanced at Teest, and walked away dejectedly.

Abandon was the last to stand in front of the knight’s corpse, extending a trembling hand to touch the helmet’s brow.

Ding, the system issued a “team full” prompt.

Although he only needed to be a scout, Abandon’s blood boiled for a second—

Here comes the real S-level side quest!

As long as they succeeded in the mission, when he returned to the “Homeward Saints Guild’s” headquarters, it would be glorious. The reward was rare knight equipment. Boss Hot Ash would definitely be happy.

Imagining that scene, Abandon couldn’t help but grin with a silly smile.

Just then, the corpse suddenly tilted its head and stiffly moved. Abandon’s mouth hadn’t yet closed when he let out a hiccup-like loud “Eh” sound.

In his terrified gaze, the long-dead knight stood up, supporting the crown. He stood there for a while, slowly holding the helmet and straightening his head.

In the narrow slits of the helmet, two blue lights suddenly lit up.

It’s all over. There’s a backup plan! Abandon fumbled for his bow and arrow, and Solo slowly pressed his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said. “This makes transportation easier.”

After that, Solo pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses and a delicate powder blue large sun umbrella from the props bar. He walked over to the silent Ancient Knight, put on the sunglasses for him, and signaled it to hold the lace umbrella.

In less than half a minute, the Ancient Knight went from a “historical undead monster” to a “suspected knight player with questionable aesthetics”.

Abandon: “…”

How to say, this kind of noticeable yet unnoticeable feeling…

Anyway, their group was strange enough. He wanted to see what else this group could pretend to be.

As it turned out, he completely underestimated Paradise’s understanding of human society.

When they set off again, he got a servant’s outfit that could be seen everywhere. Looking up at the remaining six… no, seven people, he could hardly recognize them.

The Ancient Knight with the sunglasses and sun umbrella was the easiest to recognize. Beside it stood Solo, dressed as a noble young master, Anakin dressed as a maid, and a red-haired man dressed as a butler.

The young siren transformed into a human, wearing servant clothes almost as shabby as Abandon’s.

The succubus hid his horns, dyed his silver hair black, loosely tied his hair in a braid, and wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, followed by a pair of blue eyes. He wore a manservant outfit, much fancier than Abandon’s servant outfit.

However, Abandon still found a tail swaying back and forth under the hem of his clothes, occasionally brushing against people nearby—

Beside the succubus, stood a handsome young man with light golden hair and golden eyes, his hair hanging to his collarbone, with a cold expression.

Just by height, he looked like the previous Master of Paradise. He wore the same manservant outfit as the succubus, standing shoulder to shoulder.

…This must be a modified appearance after an illusion! How could the Master of Paradise be human?

But looking at that face, it really doesn’t look like an ordinary human. Does that guy have other creature’s blood?

Abandon’s mind raced as he walked step by step towards his new team.

“Next, we’ll go with the ‘capricious young master going to the Endless Sea for sightseeing’ script.”

Anakin tilted her head towards the red-haired butler. “This gentleman here, you can call him ‘Pai’.”

“Um… Paradise’s three; you can call them ‘Fischer’, ‘Blanco’, and ‘Drake’.”

She cleared her throat and pointed to the siren, and the succubus and Master stuck together.

Abandon choked. In this brain-overloading introduction, he keenly grasped the key point. “Only an idiot would go to the Endless Sea at this time!”

“That’s why I’m the ‘adventurous capricious noble young master’.” Solo’s eyes were vacant. “Do you have a better suggestion? Even the boldest merchant convoys don’t want to go near the Endless Sea anymore.”

Abandon fell silent.

Well, this isn’t bad. He tugged at his servant outfit, resigning himself to his fate.

At least they were disguised as a small noble’s servants, and they wouldn’t suffer too much on the way… probably.

By the way, Boss Hot Ash has always been leveling up near the Endless Sea. I wonder how they are doing now?

……

“Is Brick Shadow really this kind of place?!”

Hot Ash spoke with added anger. “This is totally different from the Temple’s records. It’s only been a few days, and my people have already died five times!”

Brick Shadow was known to be as dangerous as the Black Forest, so Hot Ash was somewhat prepared. What he hadn’t expected was the emergence of corrupted monsters even before the Demon King’s arrival, making the area more perilous.

These corrupted monsters were much tougher to deal with than ordinary ones, seemingly having a sixth sense. No matter where the Players moved or what defense tactics they used, the monsters could accurately locate the elite team’s position.

This forced the elite team to split into two groups: one to sleep and the other to fight and defend. This strategy, while safe, significantly slowed down their exploration efficiency.

Under intense combat, they hadn’t even managed to penetrate deep into Brick Shadow before they encountered level drops.

Eugene calmly lowered his gaze. “As the Demon King draws closer, discrepancies in the information are inevitable.”

“No wonder you didn’t bring your own Fifth Regiment.” Hot Ash couldn’t hold back and threw in a jab. “I guess someone anticipated this.”

“You know as well as I do that this exploration is necessary.” Unperturbed by Hot Ash’s sarcasm, Eugene responded calmly. “If we delay further, once these monsters cross the Brick Mountains, it will be much harder to pinpoint the Demon King’s exact location… You in order to return home, I for my god—that’s why we stand here.”

Hot Ash clenched his teeth.

Eugene was right. Even he had to admit, this task indeed required Players—should the worst scenario occur, the immortal Players still had a chance to send out a message. If it were locals, they would likely be wiped out silently.

“I need to call for reinforcements.” After a while, Hot Ash awkwardly changed the subject.

“Those faithless from Amazon?”

“It has to be Amazon.” Hot Ash frowned. “All the elites of the Saints Guild are here. Anyone else coming wouldn’t help.”

“I understand.” To Hot Ash’s surprise, Eugene agreed promptly.

“I’ll contact them. You first… please step out.”

“Okay.” Eugene readily stood up and left the tent.

Outside the tent, the sky was a bloody red, and twisted trees completely surrounded the camp. The land here was unnaturally black, emitting an unsettling chill.

Eugene took a few steps forward, looking towards the direction of the Endless Sea.

“May the Goddess bless this land.”

He bowed his head, praying fervently. “Supreme Lady Tilia, please witness all this.”


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

Suddenly Trending Ch10

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 10

With the motor engine started, the bamboo raft transformed from a bicycle into a Ferrari, effortlessly cutting through the water. Soon, Ran Lin caught up with Gu Jie’s raft.

From a distance of about ten meters, Ran Lin wanted to shout a greeting, but upon closer inspection, he saw Gu Jie holding the same sheet of questions, murmuring to himself. Obviously, Gu Jie had started the rapid-fire Q&A later than him and was now in the midst of the tense part.

Ran Lin swallowed his call and silently overtook the raft. After passing some distance, he looked back and saw Gu Jie sprawled on his raft in a spread-eagle position while the boatman was collecting the bamboo pole to start the motor.

It seemed Gu Jie had succeeded too.

Ran Lin felt happy for his partner in his heart.

Because the program crew was really tricky; rowing the boat actually required technique, not just brute strength. Constantly rowing with low efficiency could easily frustrate the guests. If one were to think conspiratorially, perhaps the crew hoped for an emotional outburst from the guests or even for someone to give up entirely, which would make for an exciting episode.

Ran Lin overtook Gu Jie, becoming the second to arrive at Yangdi. The first was Zhang Beichen, who had been leading the way smoothly all along.

“How long have you been here?” Ran Lin greeted Zhang Beichen after disembarking.

“Not long.” Zhang Beichen smiled.

There was a little sweat, still not wiped off his temples, shining under the sun. It gave him an overall warm and gentle aura.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but tease. “Don’t be modest, you were way ahead. I used all my strength but didn’t even see your shadow.”

Zhang Beichen seemed genuinely embarrassed by the praise, scratching his head awkwardly. “How about I let you have first place? You can choose the room first tonight.”

Ran Lin was taken aback, not knowing how his joke was interpreted so deeply. He quickly clarified, “That’s not what I meant. I was just joking with you.”

Zhang Beichen blinked in confusion, as if still trying to gauge the truth of that statement.

Ran Lin, somewhat helplessly, said, “I can’t joke with you anymore. I’ve never seen anyone take things so seriously.”

Zhang Beichen finally seemed to believe him, exhaling deeply. “As long as you’re not angry, that’s good.”

“I’m too busy congratulating you to be angry.” Ran Lin felt almost defeated by his sincerity.

He had initially thought Zhang Beichen was just good-natured, but now realized he was a straightforward, Guo Jing*-like character. Ran Lin thought to himself that he must be straightforward with this partner in the future and avoid making any supposedly humorous jokes.

*Fictional protagonist of the wuxia novel The Legend of the Condor Heroes. According to the description, he is “dumb”, slow in learning and inarticulate. His most outstanding trait is his constant strife for moral rectitude.

“Beichen, Ran Lin—”

A loud call came from the river.

Both looked and saw that Gu Jie had arrived.

The young man on the bamboo raft was waving his arms with a rare excitement on his face. Ran Lin felt this excitement was more about finally reaching the shore, and it made Gu Jie more lively towards them. Of course, after almost a day of filming, everyone was gradually opening up.

After helping Gu Jie ashore, Ran Lin curiously asked, “Did you see Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran?”

Gu Jie shook his head. “No, I was following you.”

Ran Lin smiled, then teasingly said, “Too bad, you still couldn’t catch up.”

Gu Jie wasn’t annoyed, just spreading his hands lightly. “How come I heard someone had an extra question during the rapid-fire Q&A?”

Ran Lin was stunned, then looked at Gu Jie, whose expressionless face betrayed a teasing glint in his eyes.

The one who looked clever turned out to be a straightforward, warm guy, while the serious one turned out to be capable of jokes.

Ran Lin was exhausted by this contrast, but he preferred to deal with Gu Jie’s jokes. “You only saw me eating meat, not getting beaten*. Others had bonus points in their extra questions; mine were life-threatening.”

*Metaphor referring to someone only noticing the benefits or good outcomes that a person is enjoying (eating meat) but fails to see the hardships, struggles, or sacrifices (getting beaten) that the person had to endure to achieve that success.

Gu Jie was momentarily stunned, then burst into laughter.

Ran Lin suddenly realized that Gu Jie wasn’t too concerned about the camera; it was just his personality was more reserved at first. Whether it was the indifference in the morning, the surprise attacks in the afternoon, or the current joking, Gu Jie was just being himself. “I’m not familiar with you, so I won’t make unnecessary conversation, but as we get to know each other better, I won’t pretend to be cool or show off.”

“I only heard about the extra question, so what exactly was it?” After laughing enough, Gu Jie finally became curious.

Ran Lin instinctively didn’t want to repeat the question—a kind of self-consciousness only he could understand. But facing Gu Jie, he tried to make his defeated expression look sincere and natural. “It’s too terrible. I don’t want to remember it. You’ll know when it’s broadcast.”

Fortunately, Gu Jie wasn’t the type to dig deeper. Although he couldn’t help but chuckle, he didn’t ask further.

An hour later, Xia Xinran and Lu Yiyao finally struggled to shore, the former a dozen seconds faster than the latter.

In the end, it was the motor that brought them over, but the three who had already arrived learned from the crew’s walkie-talkie—both of these partners had failed the rapid-fire Q&A game and had to continue manually. Later, the crew realized that if they kept going, there wouldn’t be enough time, so they finally allowed the motor to be started, speeding up the last part of the journey.

Lu Yiyao’s face didn’t look too good when he landed, mostly due to exhaustion, but his emotions weren’t too apparent. Xia Xinran was different. He rushed towards the three waiting friends, especially Ran Lin, and started complaining. “They set me up—”

Even a beautiful face couldn’t look good when scrunched up like a bun. Ran Lin laughed unkindly, then, before Xia Xinran completely lost his temper, finally asked the question all the partners were curious about. “What kind of trap did you fall into?”

Xia Xinran was clearly deeply hurt, still indignant. “They actually made me choose the female star I most want to work with among Wen Qiao, Wang Xinyu, Ai Na, and Yu Bingqiu!”

Ran Lin was startled by Xia Xinran’s bluntness.

No, it was more like startled four times. Each name mentioned made him jolt.

Although these four female stars were still considered “Little Flowers*” in the industry, they had already established themselves in the circle, each carrying a certain level of resources and popularity. Any rumor about them could prompt their teams to send out legal letters to marketing accounts.

*[Xiao Hua] (小花) Refers to almost all young actresses, regardless of their popularity, reputation, and acting skills. Because of the varied standards, Xiao Hua is divided into several lines, representing their status and popularity in the industry. Specifically, the first line covers the most popular actresses and whatnot. The most popular ones are generally called Liuliang Xiao Hua (流量小花).

The production crew on-site, like Ran Lin, displayed a subtle quietness.

“What’s with that expression? Isn’t this question tricky?” Xia Xinran misunderstood Ran Lin’s daze and continued indignantly, “They are all good friends. How can I choose one over another? How can we hang out together after this!”

What was a sensitive issue seemed completely trivialized by Xia Xinran’s righteous indignation. The atmosphere suddenly lightened.

Ran Lin was impressed and said with a laugh, “It’s tricky, really tricky. But actually, you could have chosen more than one.”

Xia Xinran looked astonished. “I could have chosen more than one?!”

Ran Lin thought carefully about the rules the staff member had told him. “It seems they didn’t say you couldn’t.”

In fact, his own question sheet didn’t have any multiple-choice questions. It seemed each guest had different questions, specifically targeted by the crew.

“So there’s a way to do this…” The beautiful young man, Xia Xinran, was full of emotion, feeling as if his soul had been elevated through Ran Lin’s guidance.

Xia Xinran’s moment of realization was too endearing. It was a surefire way to melt the hearts of older female fans and intoxicate the younger ones.

Lu Yiyao didn’t join the discussion, merely sitting casually nearby, resting.

Ran Lin wanted to show some concern for his colleague, but after glancing at his expression and considering his own reputation for always clinging to popular figures, he ultimately chose not to approach.

Fortunately, the production crew didn’t let everyone rest for too long. Seeing that all five people were present, they quickly urged everyone to return to the cruise ship.

The journey from Yangdi to Xingping was the most scenic stretch of the Li River. The production crew, finally showing some conscience and didn’t arrange any more tasks, allowed the five male stars to quietly enjoy a peaceful moment.

Ran Lin finally understood why the production team, even at the risk of breaking their own rules, had decided to start the motor for Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran at the last moment. If they had delayed any longer, it would have been too dark, and they would have missed the opportunity to appreciate such a splendid landscape.

Traveling through the river, it felt as if they were drifting through a painting. If this was the case even in winter, the experience must be even more stunning in spring and summer.

However, the pleasant time was short-lived. The cruise ship soon docked at Xingping, and the five men boarded the familiar seven-seater vehicle, heading to Old Town Yangshuo.

By the time they arrived in Yangshuo, it was completely dark. The town was lively with the onset of evening lights, signaling the start of a vibrant nightlife.

The hungry men finally got to sit down for a meal. Although the crew had prepared local delicacies, the famished group could hardly appreciate the flavors and ate hungrily.

The camera dutifully recorded everything. After dinner, the last task of the day arrived—choosing rooms.

The crew had arranged five types of accommodations: a super luxurious hotel room, a standard hotel room, a hotel single room, a B&B, and a local home stay.

Zhang Beichen, having priority, chose a standard hotel room after some thought.

Ran Lin, second to choose, hesitated but picked the hotel single room.

Gu Jie, going third, sighed lightly, “You two are too polite,” and then calmly chose the luxury big bedroom.

Ran Lin knew that the other party was actually teasing them for their false modesty. Did they really not want to sleep in the luxury big bedroom? Of course, they did. But facing the camera, it was hard not to overthink things.

Actually, Ran Lin admired Gu Jie’s self-assuredness, just as he envied Xia Xinran’s easy-going nature. These were qualities he found hard to emulate. He lacked the courage and confidence.

Just as Ran Lin expected, Xia Xinran, who had thought he finally had a chance, was heartbroken after Gu Jie chose the luxury big bedroom. Xia Xinran was left listless, having to share the B&B and local homestay with Lu Yiyao.

After a satisfying meal and settling their accommodations, the five men went their separate ways.

The camera crew followed Ran Lin to his hotel single room, and he showed them around his soon-to-be residence. About fifteen minutes later, Bearded Cameraman Sun finally turned off the camera, hungry and ready to leave.

The production team had clearly stated in the contract that they would not install surveillance cameras in the guests’ accommodation; all footage came from the following camera. So, Bearded Cameraman Sun’s departure meant the day’s filming was completely over!

Ran Lin wanted to set off a thousand firecrackers in celebration.

He had no time to think about the others. Ran Lin collapsed into the soft mattress, feeling utterly drained.

He had no recollection of falling asleep. When the bedside phone rang, he groggily thought it was morning and that the hotel was providing a wake-up call.

“Were you asleep?” Wang Xi’s voice always had a way of instantly waking someone up.

“Ah, no,” Ran Lin answered hastily, looking confusedly at the still-dark window while searching for his phone to check the time.

“I’m coming up,” Wang Xi said, hanging up before Ran Lin could respond.

Ran Lin was dazed, his mind still not fully functioning, but his hand continued to search for his phone on the bed, as if finding it would bring him a sense of security.

It wasn’t until there was a knock at the door that Ran Lin finally came to his senses—his phone had been with Wang Xi since the early morning, before the program recording began.

It wasn’t just Wang Xi who came, but also Liu Wanwan.

“Ran Ge, you didn’t take any luggage and just wanted to sleep?” Liu Wanwan joked as she brought in Ran Lin’s suitcase, making herself at home.

Wang Xi glanced at her.

Liu Wanwan immediately quieted down, sticking out her tongue when Wang Xi looked away.

The single room wasn’t spacious. Besides a bed, there was only a table and a chair. Now, with two more people, the space seemed even more cramped.

“How do you feel?” Wang Xi pulled the chair to the bedside and sat down, asking Ran Lin while handing back his phone.

Ran Lin glanced at the time; it was only eleven at night.

No wonder he felt so exhausted; he had only slept for just over an hour.

“Not great.” Ran Lin put his phone aside and gave his answer carefully.

During the day, the production team didn’t allow the guests’ teams to follow the program’s filming. So in the morning, as soon as the five of them left, their respective managers and assistants moved here to wait for their artists to finish their engagements.

Therefore, what Wang Xi and the others could see was only the scene of the five leaving the hotel in Guilin in the morning and the scene of them just finishing their meal and choosing rooms in the hotel lobby.

Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran’s teams had it even worse. To communicate with their artists closely after the recording, they probably had to follow them to the B&B or homestay, waiting until the filming was over and they had finished their discussions before they could return to the hotel to rest.

“What’s not great about it?” Wang Xi leaned back in her chair and asked calmly.

Ran Lin thought for a moment and said honestly, “Overall, the five of us lack chemistry, whether in conversation or games, it’s… particularly awkward. Then there’s my own issue. I always find myself unconsciously mindful of the camera, always afraid of saying something wrong or doing something inappropriate. It feels especially tiring.”

Wang Xi listened very attentively and patiently. It wasn’t until a long while after Ran Lin finished speaking that she slowly began, “So, you didn’t say anything wrong today, nor did you do anything that would attract negative attention?”

Ran Lin was caught off guard by her question and paused for a moment before responding with a wry smile. “I don’t know. All I can say is that my performance was definitely not natural, the kind of unnaturalness that can only be saved by some miraculous editing.”

“And what’s your plan for tomorrow?” Wang Xi raised her eyebrows slightly, her tone rising a bit. “Continue being awkward?”

Ran Lin caught the implied meaning and immediately replied with respectful humility, “I humbly request Xi Jie’s guidance.”

Wang Xi liked Ran Lin’s cleverness; it was one of the reasons she was willing to spend time and effort on him.

“Listen carefully, there are only two types of people who become popular in reality shows. One, those who can portray their intended character convincingly without being too slick or awkward, appearing so natural that all viewers believe that’s their real personality; the other, those who don’t play any character and just be themselves—they may not be perfect, but as long as there’s no major flaw in their personality and they have some shining qualities, sincerity is the easiest way to gain favor…”

Wang Xi said all this in one breath, pausing for a moment before looking deep into Ran Lin’s eyes. “But to the audience…”

“They’re actually the same kind of person.” Ran Lin was beginning to understand her point.

Wang Xi smiled in satisfaction, her delicate face softening with the smile. “Exactly. The audience only wants to see ‘the real artist’. Either be strong enough to act out ‘realness’, or just be yourself. Of course, the latter has its risks too. If you really are a person without any charm, then showing your heart to the audience won’t save you.”

Ran Lin thought hard for a moment. “I feel like I’m… alright, not too bland.” He seemed a bit embarrassed by his own self-praise and smiled sheepishly.

Wang Xi chuckled.

Liu Wanwan, however, was dumbfounded.

Ran Lin’s sudden shyness made him incredibly charming, and she swore that if Ran Lin adopted a shy persona in front of the camera, he could explode the hearts of countless young girls.

A lovable and bright young man, he was absolutely enchanting.

“That’s good. That’s the kind of confidence you need.” Wang Xi stood up, stretching her neck to relieve some stiffness. “Starting tomorrow, act as if the camera doesn’t exist. Apart from things like marketing gimmicks that can’t be discussed, say whatever you want to say and do whatever you want to do. Don’t worry about whether doing this will please the fans or doing that will attract criticism. Remember, anything that the production team dares to include in the show won’t ruin you.”

Ran Lin smiled brightly, feeling a sense of clarity and refreshment. “Okay.”

Only Liu Wanwan, hiding in the corner, secretly felt a bit of regret.

The shyness dissipated too quickly; his usual bright demeanor remained the main theme. Given his personality, it seemed unlikely he would become more subdued. But she then thought a fresh and natural style wasn’t bad either. Although it might not have a strong impact, it was subtly influential.

Wang Xi didn’t know that her assistant had already mentally planned out her artist’s entire career. Seeing that Ran Lin had understood, she felt relieved and instructed Liu Wanwan to help quickly pack up without delaying Ran Lin’s rest, and then left to continue with other tasks.

After Wang Xi left, Ran Lin said to the busy Liu Wanwan, “I can do it myself. You should rest early too.”

“It’s okay.” Liu Wanwan was energetically unpacking, asking, “Ran Ge, which clothes do you want to wear tomorrow? I’ll find them for you…”

Before the clothes came out, the bag for underwear peeked out, and Ran Lin quickly reached over and closed the suitcase with a bang.

Liu Wanwan was startled.

Ran Lin apologized profusely, gently saying, “I can do it, really. Don’t trouble yourself.”

Liu Wanwan looked at him quizzically for a few seconds, then suddenly asked, “Ran Ge, did you not have an assistant before?”

Her question hit the nail on the head, tinged with a sad undertone.

Without waiting for Ran Lin’s response, Liu Wanwan read the answer from his expression and laughed, “Ran Ge, sometimes you’re really cool, and other times, you’re incredibly cute, even cuter than Xia Xinran.”

Ran Lin was torn between laughter and tears. “Complimenting me won’t get you a raise.”

“Ran Ge.” Liu Wanwan abandoned the suitcase, looking up into Ran Lin’s eyes, her tone becoming serious. “Can I ask you a question?”

Ran Lin, not expecting her sudden seriousness, nodded without thinking. “Sure.”

“Is your relationship with Lu Yiyao really not good?”

“……”

Ran Lin was petrified, encapsulating his entire state at that moment.

Liu Wanwan lowered her eyes, sounding somewhat dejected. “This morning at the hotel in Guilin, there was no interaction between you two, and he didn’t even glance at you. Even if you’re not friends, as colleagues, it shouldn’t be like that.”

Ran Lin pondered for a long time, swallowing back the words ‘don’t ask too much’, and instead asked, “Can I first ask, is this question coming from a fan’s perspective, or as my assistant?”

Liu Wanwan lifted her head, blinking in surprise, before firmly saying, “Assistant.”

This wasn’t actually a question.

It was a choice.

If you choose A, you can’t share what you’ve heard with B.

Ran Lin explained the entire airport fiasco to Liu Wanwan, including the potential frustration and resentment of Lu Yiyao and his fans. However, he cautiously omitted the part about the company’s marketing hype.

Even so, this was enough to make the young girl go through dozens of expressions while listening. In the end, she looked deeply apologetic and uneasy.

“Why didn’t you refuse me when I asked you to sign that phrase?” Liu Wanwan, now knowing the full story, could easily guess that her Weibo post had only added fuel to the fire of Lu Yiyao’s disdain for Ran Lin. “Isn’t that like deliberately attracting negativity toward yourself?”

Ran Lin scratched his head somewhat helplessly. “It was me who offered to write you a phrase, so there was no reason to refuse when you asked. Besides, it’s been a whole year since anyone asked for my autograph. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Liu Wanwan’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. “At least you should have warned me not to post it on Weibo.”

Ran Lin gave a wry smile. “I didn’t expect you would actually post it.”

Liu Wanwan looked at him in disbelief. “Such an exciting event, of course, I had to post it.”

Ran Lin looked back at her, equally puzzled. “Don’t CP fans always advocate for keeping their fantasies to themselves?”

Liu Wanwan was left speechless. After a while, she sincerely said, “Ran Ge, you really know a lot…”

Meanwhile, Lu Yiyao, staying at a homestay, was still performing the extra task of the lowest-rung guest in front of the camera—making rice noodles.

It was 2:30 in the morning by the time he got to taste the rice noodles he had made himself.

The host, who stayed up late with him but seemed to enjoy every moment, asked, “How does it feel to eat the rice noodles you made yourself?”

Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment, then said, “I want to share this joy with all my colleagues.”

Around 3 in the morning, the National First Loves were awakened by startling knocks at their doors, only to be greeted with a bowl of lovingly made rice noodles.

Even Xia Xinran, staying in the B&B, wasn’t spared.


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

Suddenly Trending Ch9

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 9

After watching his three companions enter the cave, Ran Lin waited for another thirty minutes. He just sat idly in front of the cave entrance, exchanging glances with the circle of show crew members around him.

The bearded cameraman remained diligent with his filming. With no other choice, Ran Lin studied the map for half an hour, occasionally looking up at the camera to complain about his burning desire to start the adventure.

When the director finally said he could go in, Ran Lin felt like he had been granted amnesty.

The cave was cool, and the deeper he went, the more colorful the lighting became. Various shapes of stalactites filled the cave, creating a dreamlike and magical scene under the colored lights.

Being off-season, the cave was quieter, with fewer tourists. Ran Lin first headed to a prominently marked spot on the map, only to find the badge had already been taken, leaving behind an empty box.

Ran Lin stopped and chose a brightly lit spot to study the map again. He finally decided to take a different approach.

Even though the map was crowded with tiny, dense annotations of over a dozen locations, making it hard to match each spot with its adjacent names, Ran Lin noticed some intriguing words: “Taking you into the pit, flying with you.”

Compared to names like “Great Immortal Peach”, or “Black Dragon Head”, or “Triple Flower Liquor”, which clearly referred to scenic spots or commercial points, these words exuded a mysterious charm. More importantly, there were 5 badges at this location—5!

After studying the map back and forth for a few minutes, Ran Lin had an epiphany and immediately started running back the way he came.

Bearded Cameraman Sun, not understanding why his subject suddenly turned into a frenzied rabbit, had no choice but to chase after him with his equipment.

Ran Lin quickly ran back outside the cave—he hadn’t gone far in—and bypassed the cave entrance to run uphill! Beside the entrance was a winding path leading to the highest point on this side of the bank.

The rest of the guests were inside the cave, so the planning team and even the production crew were a bit puzzled as to why he ran out and seemed to be getting further away. They needed to control all aspects and processes of the show, but they might not remember every specific point on the map, even if the planning department briefed them.

Ran Lin kept running uphill and finally saw what he was looking for—a vertical sightseeing elevator!

While waiting at the cave entrance earlier, he had almost memorized the scenic area’s advertisements, one of which mentioned a sea-land-air viewing experience. “Sea” was obvious, referring to boat rides on the dark river. “Land” was understandable with the indication of a small train entering the cave and the option to walk. But the “air” part was intriguing.

Considering the cave’s internal landscape, viewing it from a plane was out of the question. So, how could one achieve a high-altitude downward view?

Ran Lin was puzzled when entering the cave, but after seeing “Taking you into the pit, flying with you” and connecting the dots, he realized. The cave entrance wasn’t the only entry point; the location marked with those words was another entrance, one that could bring visitors in from above!

Admittedly, one could find the elevator inside the cave and ascend from below. But from where Ran Lin was, turning back outside and running up was faster. Moreover, the marking was “Taking you into the pit”, not “Taking you out of the pit”. The badges were likely hidden at the “high entrance”!

After running breathlessly to the elevator, it was still ascending from below and hadn’t reached the ground yet.

Ran Lin looked around and finally saw a corner of the program’s logo behind a medium-sized rock!

Ran Lin was overjoyed, his heart pounding with excitement, completely forgetting that this was just a show being recorded. In his heart, he repeatedly wished that the box wasn’t empty, with special earnestness. It was like returning to childhood when a single game was a whole world, and one could get passionately caught up in winning or losing with friends.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of the sightseeing elevator arriving. As he was about to step forward and check the box, Ran Lin was distracted and turned around.

Through the transparent elevator door, he saw a striking figure in bright green—Lu Yiyao, unmistakable for his flamboyant color.

Their eyes met through the glass, both surprised and stunned.

As the elevator door slowly opened, both of them reacted.

Ran Lin bolted, probably running the fastest in his life. But Lu Yiyao, not to be outdone, squeezed through the partially opened door. Thanks to being four centimeters taller than Ran Lin, his long legs gave him an incredibly wide stride that was infuriatingly consistent, and he was about to catch up!

Both men pounced behind the rock at the same time.

The damned production team had only left a box there!

It was Ran Lin’s first time seeing a medal, and in his excitement, he had completely forgotten about the cameras. He just wanted to make a great start.

Lu Yiyao, on the other hand, had been tormented enough. Just when things were looking up, he was solely focused on performing even better, hoping in the end to throw the medals back in the production team’s face.

Being too serious could be a problem.

Especially when one serious person meets another.

The two men tangled with each other like basketball players fighting over a ball on the court, each employing every trick in the book for the sake of possession.

If this were a basketball game, the referee would have blown the whistle by now.

But this was a variety show, and the director not only hadn’t kept up, but even if he had, he would have been delighted by the scene.

So in the struggle, the lid of the box flew off.

The box itself was also deformed in the fray.

And to make matters worse, the box that was supposed to contain 5 badges only had one marked “worth 5”.

Could there be a bigger letdown?

“Stop, stop, stop—”

Ran Lin couldn’t take it anymore and gasped for a pause, of course, still clutching the badge.

Lu Yiyao was on top of him, arm reaching over the competitor’s body, also holding the badge.

It was a very ambiguous position.

But the two of them, in that moment and scene, from their bodies to their souls were filled with “badge” and “fuck the production team”, pure and candid as two rays of light between heaven and earth.

“We can’t keep fighting like this… It’s a waste of time and inefficient…” Ran Lin’s breathing steadied as he discussed a solution with the handsome face so close to his.

Lu Yiyao thought the other made sense. “If we damage it, the production team might invalidate this badge.”

Ran Lin was stunned. “They wouldn’t go that far, would they?”

Lu Yiyao shook his head with difficulty. “You’re too new to this game. There’s a lot you don’t understand.”

Ran Lin didn’t have the leisure to ponder the deeper meaning of Superstar Lu’s words. His only thought was to resolve the issue quickly. “You get up first, and then we’ll discuss a solution.”

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow, clearly not quite trusting him.

Ran Lin quickly realized this and hurriedly said, “Let’s put the badge aside and let go at the same time. I promise not to play tricks.”

Lu Yiyao hesitated for a moment, then half-doubtfully got up from Ran Lin, still clutching the badge.

As the pressure lifted off him, Ran Lin propped himself up with his arms.

Finally, the two good-looking, high-altitude male stars got up from the dirt, standing shoulder to shoulder, making a picturesque scene that could even be used for the program’s official announcement if not for the badge they were holding between them.

Of course, it would also work if the badge were rugged and handsome.

But this valuable 5+ badge had been made into a cute, yellow little star, which from afar looked like Patrick Star had been colored by SpongeBob SquarePants.

Ran Lin: “I’ll count one, two, three, and we let go together.”

Lu Yiyao: “Okay.”

The two crouched down together, solemnly and with a stern expression, placing the star on the ground an arm’s length away.

“One, two…”

“Three! Haha—”

Xia Xinran swooped in like a whirlwind, deftly stealing away the 5+ badge.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin looked at their own and each other’s empty hands, simultaneously thinking of the words—death from talking too much.

It was just a badge; they should not have turned it into an Infernal Affairs* rooftop showdown!

*Critically acclaimed Hong Kong film about two men, one a mole for the police department, while the other an undercover cop who infiltrated the triads. Through their actions, they risk exposing their other counterparts while being simultaneously unaware that they both have the same goal. There’s an American film that’s a remake of it called The Departed.

“Gu Jie!!!”

Xia Xinran’s smug laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by an angry roar.

Gu Jie, who had the upper hand, casually waved the 5+ badge in his hand with a rare smile on his rugged face, although still shallow. “Extreme joy turns to sorrow.”

Xia Xinran went crazy again.

Gu Jie didn’t play along with him; seeing the sightseeing elevator about to close, he dashed over and made it at the last second.

Xia Xinran was left jumping outside the elevator, with the cameraman assigned to him trying hard to stifle his laughter, almost unable to hold the camera steady.

The oriole has escaped*.” Ran Lin, finally regaining his composure from the chaos, reminded Lu Yiyao.

*This is referencing the idiom “The praying mantis catches the cicada while the oriole follows”. It refers to while coveting the gains ahead, one should be aware of the dangers behind.

The latter dusted off the dirt from his clothes and said helplessly, “Us two cicadas might as well disperse too.”

Ran Lin glanced in Xia Xinran’s direction, asking, “Not going after the mantis?”

Lu Yiyao also looked over and couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m afraid of getting hurt by the sickle.”

This was the first time Lu Yiyao had joked with him. Ran Lin was a bit dazed as he watched the other’s lips curl into a smile.

Lu Yiyao’s smile was attractive and warm, and no matter how many times Ran Lin saw it, it was always good to see. Noticing Ran Lin’s gaze, Lu Yiyao subconsciously restrained his smile and coughed lightly. “I need to go down and continue looking for badges.” Without waiting for Ran Lin’s response, he headed for the sightseeing elevator.

Ran Lin watched as Lu Yiyao walked back to the elevator, passing by Xia Xinran. As another elevator ascended, Ran Lin quickly slipped in and returned to the cave.

What he didn’t know was that as soon as the elevator doors closed and it started to descend, Lu Yiyao’s expression changed from indifference to a conflicted look of wanting to speak but stopping himself. He alternated between frowning and pursing his lips, as if there were two souls inside him at war.

The cameraman following Lu Yiyao captured all the subtle emotional fluctuations through his lens. But he couldn’t delve into Lu Yiyao’s heart to truly understand these micro-expressions.

If there was a mind-reading device in the world, it would surely hear the scolding voice against his chest at that moment—

I told you to stay away from him, and yet you ended up in his arms. Has the production team eaten your brain?

Lu Yiyao was a man with strict demands on himself.

He had a little person in his heart who always helped him reflect.

In the following time, there wasn’t much spark among the five male stars.

Firstly, the cave was winding with three levels, so it wasn’t always possible to meet; secondly, as the remaining badges became scarce, it took longer to find one, and everyone’s spirits were no longer high.

In the end, the medal count was Ran Lin with 5, Zhang Beichen with 7, Xia Xinran with 9, Lu Yiyao with 13, and Gu Jie with 16.

The 5+ gold badge became the key to victory.

Thus, when the results were announced, Xia Xinran wailed again.

Gu Jie initially ignored it, but as Xia Xinran showed no signs of stopping, he frowned slightly and offered a mild warning to his relentless partner. “I don’t know what the privilege of victory will be used for tomorrow. Do you think it could be to assign a punishment to one of the others at will?”

Xia Xinran shut his mouth.

So quickly, in fact, that he choked.

Ran Lin, who had been watching the whole process with peripheral vision and catching every word, pressed his lips tight to keep from showing his amusement too obviously. Xia Xinran naively thought Gu Jie was taciturn and had a gentle temper.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Gu Jie’s low-key silence wasn’t due to a good temper, just that he couldn’t be bothered to argue. His character was in high agreement with his image: a straightforward guy, not fussy, without too much hassle.

But if you nagged and annoyed him, he would assure you with one sentence to shut you up and keep you from daring to bounce around again.

The cruise ship was still waiting at the shore, but this time, the staff boarded the cruise ship, and the five stars had to switch to rafts.

There was only one boatman and one program crew member on the raft.

Before boarding the cruise ship, the female host announced the next surprise—all had to follow the boatman’s instructions to paddle the bamboo rafts downstream to Yangdi Pier. The order of arrival at the pier would determine the order of room selection for the night’s accommodation.

In other words, how well tonight would be spent depended on this effort!

So why wait? It’s time for a little bamboo rafting trip down the river.

The five male stars clumsily boarded the bamboo rafts, while the cameramen, who had already scouted the location with the production team, followed their stars with agility, even with equipment in hand.

The boatman began to teach the stars how to paddle. Zhang Beichen learned the fastest and was the first to leave the pier.

Ran Lin was third, closely following Gu Jie ahead of him.

After the three rafts had drifted far away, Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran’s raft finally set off with difficulty.

But those who had drifted out were not faring well.

Ran Lin didn’t know about the others, but after just fifteen minutes of paddling, his forehead began to sweat, his hands gripping the bamboo pole were tingling with pain, and his arms, which were making large movements, were sore and numb.

What was even more frustrating was that the raft seemed to spin more than it progressed; it might actually be better to let it drift on its own.

This lasted for an hour.

Just when Ran Lin felt he was at his limit, the staff member, who had been sitting quietly on the boat, suddenly smiled brightly. “Actually, our bamboo raft can be powered by a motor.”

Ran Lin knew this; the motor was installed at the rear of the raft and clearly visible. However, he thought the purpose of this segment was to paddle manually, without using the motor.

Now, the staff member, who had been as quiet as a mascot for sixty minutes, mysteriously informed him that the motor could be used. Anyone with an IQ over twenty would suspect a catch.

“But first, you need to play a small game. Only after passing it can you use the motor.”

Ran Lin wasn’t surprised.

“A rapid-fire Q&A for sixty seconds. We will ask fifteen questions, and if you can answer ten within sixty seconds, you pass. You only get one chance, so good luck!”

Handing back the bamboo pole, Ran Lin took the question sheet prepared by the staff, keeping the printed side down to prevent cheating.

“Are you ready?” The staff member smiled enigmatically.

Swallowing nervously, Ran Lin replied, “Yes.”

“Ready, go!”

As the stopwatch started, Ran Lin flipped the A4 sheet and began reading rapidly, racing against time—

“Your favorite color… Blue!”

“Your favorite food… Steamed buns!”

“The kind of man you admire… Loyal!”

“The kind of woman you admire… Confident!”

“The male artist in the mainland entertainment industry you admire the most… Oh no, that’s a trap, pass!”

“The female artist in the mainland entertainment industry you admire the most… Another trap, pass!”

“What do you want your fans to call you, Burning Noodles or Raging Fire… Better Burning Noodles, haha*.”

*Clarity: Burning Noodles/Face [Ran Mian] (燃面) vs Raging Fire [Lin Huo] (磷火). They are using homophones of his name Ran () Lin () as puns for his fanbase.

“What do you admire most about Lu Yiyao… Um, his accomplishments.”

“Do you have a girlfriend now… No!”

“When was your first love… High school!”

“How many girlfriends have you had… None!”

“Your favorite…”

“Time’s up!” The staff member stopped the stopwatch, grinning. “Sixty seconds, nine questions answered, just one short.”

Ran Lin put down the A4 sheet, feeling drained both physically and emotionally, and sadly asked, “Can’t you make an exception for my sincere answers?”

The staff member shook his head regretfully.

Ran Lin felt like crying.

“It’s not entirely impossible…” the staff member added, changing his tone. Ran Lin waited eagerly.

“Can you assure that all your answers were sincere?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll add one more question. If you can answer it, you pass.”

Ran Lin handed over the question sheet without hesitation. “Ask anything.”

The staff member didn’t take the sheet but pointed at it. “Before I ask, can you repeat the answers to the tenth and eleventh questions?”

Confused, Ran Lin complied: “When was your first love? High school. How many girlfriends have you had? None.”

After repeating, Ran Lin understood.

The staff member chuckled. “My question is, please explain.”

Ran Lin answered sincerely, “My first love happened in high school. It was unrequited and unsuccessful.”

The staff member said, “…Master*, start the motor!”

*[Shifu] It’s a respectful term, when used in modern day, to refer to a skilled worker or craftsman, thus addressing them as a master or expert in their profession—in this case, the ferryman.

As the motor started and a cool breeze brushed his face, Ran Lin felt a long-missed comfort. Whoever set these questions truly understood him. Any slight change in wording, and he might have fallen into a trap.

In the rush of the moment, he had little time to judge whether a question was safe to answer. Except for the ones about favorite male and female artists, which were clearly traps, the rest were risky. Moreover, his principle was to be as honest as possible, avoiding lies unless absolutely necessary.

So, if those two questions were slightly altered—

“Where did your first love happen?”

“How many people have you dated?”

His answers might have been completely different.

His first love happened in the boys’ dormitory in high school. It was unrequited and unsuccessful.

He had two online relationships. One ended before meeting because he hesitated to send a photo and got ruthlessly blocked; the other was a college mate, who, during their first date at a movie, sneakily texted a casual partner. He could’ve pretended to go to the bathroom to text, but in the dark cinema, his phone screen shone like a searchlight, making it impossible not to notice.

As the wind grew colder, Ran Lin gazed at the scenery of the Li River, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

That was close.


Kinky Thoughts:

Oh. I’m glad we got his sexual orientation all sorted out already.


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

Suddenly Trending Ch8

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 8

At the Mopan Mountain Pier, the starting point for sightseeing in the Li River Scenic Area.

Xia Xinran gave Ran Lin a shocked look when he saw the signs for “Pier” and “Li River”.

“Spill it, do you have a relative in the production team who gave you spoilers?” Xia Xinran asked seriously in front of the camera, making it seem like a variety show stunt.

Ran Lin was amused by this. Before he could respond, the production team hurried them onto a large tourist boat.

The boat, chartered by the production team, had a spacious indoor area on the first level and a bright, clean deck on the second.

The five men were first led to the indoor area on the first level. As soon as they sat down, the hostess re-entered the scene, glowing—

“Guilin’s landscape is said to be the best under heaven, so we chose the beautiful Li River for the first stop of The National First Love Drifting Story! From today, our heartthrobs will travel to eight locations, facing eight adventures, vowing to defend their honor as the National First Love! Who will be the landscape’s First Love in Guilin? Let’s wait and see!”

“The voting channel at the bottom of the screen is now open. Everyone can pick up their phones and shake them to interact with us!”

After the hostess finished her opening remarks and read the advertisements, she left the scene. As the main camera withdrew, the five follow-up cameras took their places. The subjects, whether composed, leisurely, bright, or playful, all shared one thing in their minds—confusion.

Not telling the guests the script indeed made things real. But the clueless guests were just as baffled.

Ran Lin was worried about how this first episode would turn out. At least for now, he hadn’t seen any highlights, neither in the production team’s planning nor in the variety show sense of the guests themselves.

In fact, he had no right to criticize others; he was just as wooden in front of the camera.

Hopefully, things would improve. As Ran Lin comforted himself with these thoughts, he was distracted by the scenery outside the window.

Along the shore were rolling green hills as the boat sailed on clear waters.

The river, not as full in winter as in summer, lacked the sparkling vitality of the warmer months but had its own distant and desolate beauty. The hills along the shore seemed covered in a light mist, creating an ethereal, mysterious feeling.

The banks were quiet, and few boats were on the river. The roaring tourist boat cut through the water, unfolding a picturesque landscape for those who cared to see.

Just a glance was enough to capture one’s attention.

“Ran Lin,” Gu Jie, who had gone up to the upper deck and was now back, called to him. “It’s your turn.”

Ran Lin came back to his senses, feeling as if he had missed the whole world. Without time to ask what was going on, he followed Gu Jie’s direction and headed to the deck alone.

Stepping out of the cabin, the river wind greeted him, slightly chilly but not too harsh.

The staff were already waiting there with a smile, and Ran Lin had a bad premonition.

Sure enough, his task was to pick one of the other four partners he thought most fit the image of a “Landscape Male God” and explain why, all while speaking to a secret camera.

The so-called secret camera was actually in a makeshift single-person booth set up on the deck with a camera inside.

From hearing the task to entering the “booth”, Ran Lin had only a few seconds to think.

The booth felt flimsy, as if the “walls” could be blown away at any moment. But to create a secretive atmosphere, the production team and staff outside were very quiet, leaving Ran Lin alone with the sounds of the wind and the river.

Lowering his eyes, pondering for a moment, Ran Lin let out a gentle sigh and finally looked up at the camera. No, he almost pressed his face against the camera, then said word by word, very seriously, “Although I feel a bit sorry for my idol, for the title of ‘Landscape Male God’, I still have to choose Xia Xinran. The landscape is naturally distant, graceful, and subtle. Although Xia Xinran is far from subtle, ahem, when it comes to beauty, he is second to none… Uh, wait, did I say something wrong…”

“No matter what, my vote goes to Xia Xinran!”

After throwing a flirtatious look at the camera, Ran Lin left the booth satisfied. He wasn’t sure how well he did, but he had done his best.

The boat passed various unique rock formations and peaks, eventually arriving at the Guanyan Pier. During the journey, apart from the booth interviews, there were no substantial segments for interaction. Everyone just enjoyed the scenery, the wind and showed off their good looks.

At the entrance to Guanyan, the five men lined up again. The hostess finally announced the results of the first round of voting for the Landscape Male God—Ran Lin voted for Xia Xinran, Xia Xinran for Lu Yiyao, Lu Yiyao for Gu Jie, Gu Jie for Zhang Beichen, and Zhang Beichen for Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao received two votes, Xia Xinran, Zhang Beichen, and Gu Jie one each, and Ran Lin none.

When the hostess announced Lu Yiyao’s two votes, Ran Lin had a bad feeling, which was confirmed. In front of the camera, he could only jokingly self-deprecate, “I’m so handsome. How can you guys not see it…”

His four companions laughed along perfunctorily, without much sincerity.

The hostess then announced the real highlight of the day—The Guanyan Adventure!

Guanyan, a historic underground cave, had always attracted visitors. The cave had three levels and five chambers, with the two upper levels being dry caves and the lowest level housing an underground river. The caves were interconnected in a complex manner, and even with a map, one could easily get lost without a guide.

The five celebrities were given hand-drawn cartoon maps, marked with fifty badges.

Collecting badges was the ultimate goal of the Guanyan Adventure. They had four hours, and whoever collected the most badges would have a special privilege in a segment the next day.

However, the order of entering the cave was based on the votes received on the boat. This meant Lu Yiyao, with the most votes, would enter first and have the full four hours. The others, each with one vote, would only enter half an hour later, meaning they had only 3.5 hours to collect badges.

Ran Lin, with no votes, would enter last and have only three hours.

How much difference could one hour make in collecting badges? Ran Lin didn’t know.

In fact, Ran Lin didn’t really care about how many badges he could collect.

But with the other partners already inside the cave and only he left waiting at the entrance, the bearded cameraman Sun Ge insisted on filming his lonely situation from every angle. The thought alone was disheartening.

The five men, not yet well-acquainted—excluding Xia Xinran and Zhang Beichen, who also behaved almost like strangers—had instinctively made their choices, resulting in no one voting for him.

Ran Lin was no longer concerned about how viewers would react to this segment. He felt genuinely disheartened from a personal standpoint in his interactions with others.

“Oh my God, is this the map?” Xia Xinran exclaimed in shock upon seeing the “Pier” and “Li River” signs, and after Lu Yiyao had just disappeared into the cave. He held up the hand-drawn map to his camera. “Audience friends, please take a look. This is the map the production team gave us. Compared to this, the Beijing subway map is just a doodle!”

At first, Ran Lin and the others didn’t react much, but by the end of his statement, they all burst into laughter. Xia Xinran’s comparison was so vivid, considering the complex and winding map of Guanyan with fifty badge locations marked on it.

“Alright,” Gu Jie quickly regained his composure, saying seriously, “Instead of complaining, we should study the route.”

Xia Xinran had an epiphany. “Right, we have four people here—more brains are better. Let’s analyze this together!”

Gu Jie felt defeated, realizing that Xia Xinran seemed to have forgotten the adventure’s purpose was to compete for the title of Landscape Male God, which meant they were competitors, not collaborators.

But Xia Xinran had already spread the hand-drawn map on the ground, beckoning everyone over. “What are you waiting for, come here.”

Ran Lin smiled and was the first to respond. Zhang Beichen and Gu Jie followed with some hesitation.

Even so, Gu Jie was somewhat resistant. “It’s not quite right for us to discuss together when Lu Yiyao entered alone. He’s ahead with a full 4 hours.”

Xia Xinran sighed heavily, his face exuding a “you’re too young” kind of benevolence. “Don’t worry, he won’t blame us. He surely understands a principle better than any of us here: the higher the popularity, the greater the responsibility.”

With limited space on the map, it was a challenge for the planners to clearly depict the main routes inside the cave, the badge hiding spots, and the pathways. Fortunately, with four people and eight eyes, they managed to categorize the map within about ten minutes. Attractions, badges, and routes were all sorted.

No matter how clear the map was, it was just theoretical, so they ended the discussion feeling somewhat prepared. The rest depended on their performance inside the cave.

With ten minutes left until Gu, Zhang, and Xia’s departure, the three of them had nothing to do. One sat silently on Ran Lin’s left, studying the map; another sat on his right, looking out at the river, and one paced in front of him, interacting with his camera and the future audience.

Ran Lin had just chosen a clean spot to sit, not intending to stay long since the ground was cold in winter. But for some reason, all three of the one-vote party gathered around him.

He wondered if he had unknowingly picked a spot with good Feng Shui.

“Hey, why did you vote for me?” Having interacted with future fans, Xia Xinran suddenly squatted down close to Ran Lin, looking at him with wide, serious eyes.

Xia Xinran’s beauty wasn’t feminine but rather childlike. So, combined with his straightforward nature, he might come off as brash at first, but over time, his simplicity became relaxing.

“Because I think you’re even more beautiful than the landscape,” Ran Lin exaggeratedly yet seriously said, creating a comedic effect. But Xia Xinran loved being praised for his looks, regardless of whether it was serious or joking.

Like now, his face lit up. “So you’ve become my fan now?”

Ran Lin grinned and nodded hastily. “Yeah, yeah.”

Xia Xinran then bluntly asked, “So, do you like me or Lu Yiyao more?”

Ran Lin, caught off guard by his direct challenge, took a moment before replying, “That depends on who collects more badges.”

Xia Xinran dramatically turned to his camera with a serious face. “Lu Yiyao, watch out. I’m going all out to win over a true love fan!”

Ran Lin couldn’t hold back his laughter. He could already imagine the subtitles in post-production—[Crisis among the Male God Group, A Fierce Battle for Fans!]

Gu Jie watched the entire scene but couldn’t really grasp the point. Logically, he understood that this segment would probably have a good effect on the variety show, given Ran Lin’s reaction. But emotionally, he couldn’t relate to such interactions.

He somewhat regretted signing up for this reality show. For someone like him who preferred not to talk much in daily life, participating in a reality show was almost masochistic.

Zhang Beichen had been deeply engrossed in studying the map even after the group discussion had ended, so engrossed that he was oblivious to the drama unfolding just a few steps away.

Xia Xinran, seemingly fond of picking fights with him, came over right after hamming it up for the camera and bluntly asked, “Why didn’t you vote for Ran Lin? If you had, all four of us could have entered the cave together!”

Zhang Beichen, caught off guard, instinctively retorted, “Didn’t you also vote for Lu Yiyao?”

His tone was a bit sharp, clearly a direct and genuine reaction—both he and Xia Xinran had voted for Lu Yiyao, so why was one blaming the other?

Xia Xinran, however, had his own logic. “But you’re familiar with Ran Lin, right? Didn’t you both record the theme song together?”

Zhang Beichen was speechless at this point. After a while, he glanced awkwardly at Ran Lin.

Ran Lin felt black lines covering him. It seemed like he was being blamed for something he hadn’t done.

“If it were me, I would’ve also voted for Lu Yiyao.” Ran Lin quickly tried to smooth things over. “Who wouldn’t vote for Lu Yiyao as the Landscape Male God over me without feeling guilty?”

Xia Xinran was confused. “But you clearly voted for me, didn’t you?”

Ran Lin believed Xia Xinran didn’t catch the hint that he was trying to steer the conversation away from a sensitive topic. So he decided not to bother anymore and let the situation unravel.

“Actually, I voted for you out of sentiment. I was worried that if you got zero votes, you couldn’t handle it and would lose confidence in your stunning beauty.”

“…Ran Lin!!!”

“My becoming your fan is true.”

“True, my ass— aaahhh!”

Watching Xia Xinran’s meltdown was truly entertaining. He was genuinely upset, with most of his words needing to be censored. Yet, it didn’t make the situation awkward.

Instead, everyone was enjoying his rant, like watching a child who couldn’t have candy throw a tantrum.

Not every kind of genuine emotion was likable. But Xia Xinran’s frankness, unguarded mouth, lack of malice, and a bit of vulnerability made up his unique charm. There were times when he was annoying, but more often, he was endearing.

Meanwhile, Lu Yiyao, who had been in the cave for nearly half an hour, stood at the small dock of the underground river on the lowest level of the three-layer cave, hesitating.

After all this time, he had only collected two badges. He had followed the map diligently, but it seemed either the map was wrong or he misunderstood it. Either way, he was fed up!

Wasn’t the show supposed to be about reality? Fine. The real Lu Yiyao just wanted to enjoy a leisurely trip!

Lu Yiyao had never been taken on a trip when he was a child as his parents were always busy; then he went abroad for middle school, always returning to China during holidays for additional education; later, during college, he had a falling out with his father, who wanted him to study business, and had to work part-time due to reduced financial support, leaving no opportunity for travel; and finally, after entering the entertainment industry, he was so busy he couldn’t even find time to complete his credits, let alone travel.

So, part of the reason he signed up for this reality show was his fondness for the “travel element” in the program’s plan.

But the experience turned out to be entirely different. Constant camera presence made him overthink everything, worrying about what to say and do, unlike acting according to a script. This required improvisation.

Well, he decided to improvise.

Let others collect the badges; he was going to thoroughly enjoy the stunning karst landscape.

“Slow down, step here, right.” On the small boat at the underground river dock, the boatman carefully helped Lu Yiyao and the cameraman aboard, ensuring their stability.

“Sit tight!” Amidst the roaring water, the boatman called out and set sail.

As the boat slowly moved away from the dock, heading deeper, Lu Yiyao put down the hand-drawn map and stretched out without caring about the camera.

He suddenly noticed a familiar logo and, curious, picked up a box with the program’s logo from under the boatman’s feet.

Opening it, he found a badge inside.

Lu Yiyao was astonished. He set the badge aside and picked up the map again.

If he remembered correctly, there were no badges marked at the underground river on the map!

Three minutes later, Lu Yiyao discovered the problem. What he had thought to be the underground river was actually the sightseeing car path, and what he had believed to be the sightseeing car path was, in fact, the walking dry path. The actual underground river was where he had thought the walking path was.

Either the map was drawn incorrectly, or I misunderstood it.

Now it seemed, it was the former. The artistic quality of the hand-drawn map was soul-elevating, but the whimsical placement of the landmark names could drive someone with OCD to madness.

According to the revised understanding of the map, after getting this badge, there was no need to waste more time exploring the underground river, as there were no more badges along that route. There must be another one overlooked near the dock.

Thinking this, Lu Yiyao abandoned his previous resignation and got serious again, politely saying, “Excuse me, could you please take me back to the dock?”

“What?” The sound of the water was too loud, and the boatman didn’t hear him clearly.

Lu Yiyao had to shout, “I want to go back to the dock—”

The boatman finally heard him. “No—”

Lu Yiyao: “…Why?!”

The boatman didn’t reply but instead bent down to pick up a prop board that Lu Yiyao had overlooked, which was placed under the original badge box, and held it up high.

Lu Yiyao looked closely. In the colorful light, playful and clear calligraphy characters were visible:

[The path you choose, even if in tears, must be completed! — The Production Team]

Lu Yiyao stared blankly at the prop board, suddenly wanting to ask, ‘Who am I? Where is this? What am I doing?’

The episode’s planning was a mess, the prop preparation was dubious, and they were professional in playing tricks on the guests.

Hong Jie, how did you manage to pick this show out of so many glamorous and beautiful reality show proposals for me? 

Is the director your relative…?


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

Suddenly Trending Ch7

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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


Chapter 7

In addition to featuring five National Boyfriends, <National First Love Drifting Story> had another gimmick: absolutely no script for the stars. Every segment and itinerary were controlled by the production team, and the celebrities were kept in the dark. It was a purely authentic reality show, showcasing celebrities in their natural state.

The official promotional slogan was:

The most unpredictable journey!

The most bizarre challenges!

The most authentic reactions!

The most interesting encounters!

You decide who is the ultimate National Boyfriend!

Any reality show daring to brand themselves as “authentic” these days was truly brave.

Because reality shows did have scripts, and they were always sent to the celebrities. The more earnest and confident production teams only outline the process, segments, and desired end results in the script, such as competition, unity, inspiration, humor, etc., leaving the rest to the celebrities’ improvisation. Other production teams’ scripts might even specify what reactions certain celebrities should have at certain moments, what props they should receive, etc.

With the former type of script, the final outcome retained at least 30% “authenticity”. With the latter, it was essentially just a “show.”

Regardless of the type, these details weren’t usually highlighted. They’d rather have the audience forget the existence of “reality show scripts” and even subtly create an “unscripted, on-the-spot authenticity” in post-production.

However, <National First Love Drifting Story> broke the norm by openly telling the audience they were doing it for real. The same attitude applied to their contracted celebrity guests: if you can’t handle it, don’t come.

Only XX Satellite TV dared to do this. They were always at the forefront of the conversation, making a killing.

Ran Lin truly didn’t receive a script. The production team only informed him about the local weather, around 10°C, and advised him to wear comfortable, warm athletic clothing.

Then, under Wang Xi’s guidance, accompanied by Liu Wanwan, his first-ever personal assistant newly appointed by the company, Ran Lin set off. Liu Wanwan, originally a company administrator, had volunteered for the role after seeing an internal job posting.

Seeing her apple-red cheeks, Ran Lin was worried she might ask for another autograph.

Filming began with him packing at home. It was Ran Lin’s first time being followed so closely by a camera, making him nervous. By the time he realized what he had said, he was already on the plane.

When the production team’s driver picked him up from the airport and brought him to a hotel in Guilin, it was already 8:30 p.m. Gu Jie and Xia Xinran’s flights were even later. Zhang Beichen and Lu Yiyao had already arrived, especially the latter, who had come a day earlier at his own expense for a day of leisure in the city. Of course, that day wasn’t filmed.

The director and production team warmly welcomed Ran Lin, chatting with him and Wang Xi, but their conversation boiled down to one message: Relax and enjoy, haha!

The director was ambitious, but Ran Lin couldn’t relax amidst his laughter.

Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan shared a room, and Ran Lin had his own. The hotel’s air conditioning was warm; he couldn’t even wear his fleece hoodie and had to switch to a T-shirt.

The cameraman didn’t seem to be resting yet, and Ran Lin wondered if he could ask him how long he planned to keep filming. There was a difference between having eaten pork and having seen a pig run*.

*Idiom used to describe people who haven’t personally experienced things but have heard about them, seen them, and have some understanding.

Ran Lin, who had never been under such close surveillance, felt quite pressured.

Considering the cameraman’s hard work, Ran Lin felt he couldn’t just sit around idly. Otherwise, the footage would just be of him staring blankly, which would be difficult to edit later. After some thought, Ran Lin decided to go greet his “partners” ahead of time.

When Zhang Beichen opened the door and saw him, he was quite surprised but quickly welcomed Ran Lin warmly.

For some reason, there was no camera following Zhang Beichen. Ran Lin guessed that Zhang Beichen might have arrived early, and enough footage of him had already been captured.

Being on camera, everyone was somewhat reserved. So, apart from initially discussing the theme song—their only common topic—the conversation was mostly just small talk with occasional awkward pauses. Soon, Ran Lin couldn’t sit still any longer and excused himself.

He originally didn’t want to visit Lu Yiyao. Since it was awkward with Zhang Beichen, it would only be more so with Lu Yiyao.

But before leaving his room, he had already told the following camera that he was going to meet his partners in advance. Having met one and skipping the other would seem odd and could attract criticism.

Reluctantly, he continued to find Lu Yiyao. However, it was his assistant who opened the door.

The assistant didn’t seem too surprised to see Ran Lin, but hesitated upon seeing the camera, then whispered, “Lu Ge is asleep. He was out all day yesterday and is quite tired.”

Ran Lin really wanted to ask why the assistant was still there if Lu Yiyao was asleep, but he held back.

Lu Yiyao’s tactic wasn’t very clever. Or maybe he didn’t intend to hide his “rejection” of Ran Lin.

Although a bit embarrassed, Ran Lin could understand Lu Yiyao’s feelings. He also felt relieved that Lu Yiyao didn’t want to see him. Otherwise, in front of the camera, he couldn’t outright say he was sorry for leeching off Lu Yiyao’s popularity. Meeting would only add to the awkwardness.

The assistant closed the door gently, but it still made a sound. After hesitating, to avoid the atmosphere being too dry, Ran Lin turned to the camera and made a light comment, “Looks like I won’t get to see my idol until tomorrow. What a shame.”

The cameraman finally seemed satisfied. As soon as Ran Lin returned to his room, the cameraman turned off his equipment and stood at the door with a simple smile, saying, “Have a good rest.”

Ran Lin was relieved and quickly grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the table to offer him, saying, “Thanks for your hard work.”

The burly, bearded cameraman suddenly became shy, quickly waving his hand. “No need. I have some in my room.”

Ran Lin didn’t insist and said, “Then you should rest well too, Sun Ge. Tomorrow might be like competing in a decathlon.”

Sun Ge was amused by the comparison. “It won’t be that bad.”

Ran Lin paused, then narrowed his eyes and asked out of the blue, “Sun Ge, do you know the script?”

The cameraman was taken aback, suddenly burping in surprise.

Ran Lin felt a bit guilty but also wanted to laugh, quickly changing the subject. “I was just asking randomly. Even if you did know, I wouldn’t want you to make a mistake. You should go rest.”

The cameraman nearly fled.

Ran Lin regretted it a bit, feeling like he had bullied an honest person.

On one hand, Ran Lin was relieved to end the day’s filming. On the other hand, Lu Yiyao was still mired in gloom over being disturbed.

He had been worried that Ran Lin would come to seek him out after his arrival. And indeed, Ran Lin did come.

But that wasn’t a big deal.

Since the airing of “Yun Zhang”, Lu Yiyao had quickly become a favorite among fans. Many colleagues he knew but had barely interacted with in the past two years started sending congratulatory messages and creating an impression of close friendship in interviews, on Weibo, and at fashion events.

Lu Yiyao usually turned a blind eye to these actions. He wouldn’t go out of his way to embarrass anyone, and even if he encountered them face-to-face and wasn’t happy about it, he would still play along.

But Ran Lin was an exception. The actions of others were predictable, and the results were estimable. At worst, it meant having one more fake friend. Everyone was busy anyway, so there wasn’t much need for interaction.

But Ran Lin was always full of surprises. In Lu Yiyao’s heart, there was an inexplicable fear of the unpredictable future.

His mind and body both resisted being in the same space as Ran Lin. Even if an encounter was inevitable, he wished it could be delayed as long as possible.

“Lu Ge.” The assistant couldn’t stand it any longer. “You’ve been staring at that screenshot for several days. Why bother? I know you’re angry, but the original post has been deleted. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Sitting cross-legged on the bed with no sign of sleepiness, Lu Yiyao pondered for a long time before finally putting his phone back on the bedside table and telling his assistant, “You should go back and rest too.”

The assistant was relieved to hear this and quickly left for the standard room arranged by the production team.

As the door closed, Lu Yiyao picked up his phone again, placing it on the bed in front of him. The screen still showed the screenshot saved in the gallery.

It was a Weibo screenshot of a girl named “Curly Curly Eyelashes”.

The post was filled with excited howls of “Ahhhhhhhh”, and one had to strain to make out the words. “I got my idol’s autograph today.”

Then there was a picture of a postcard with the message: [I love Lu Yiyao! – Ran Lin.]

As the assistant said, the original post had been deleted, and there was no need for Lu Yiyao to keep looking at the screenshot. But…

Lu Yiyao placed his hands on his knees, glanced at the screenshot, and took a deep breath as if the phone in front of him wasn’t a device but a martial arts manual.

Tomorrow, he would have to film shoulder-to-shoulder with Ran Lin. He had to be vigilant against any underhanded tactics from him.

So, it wasn’t that he was looking at the screenshot to disgust himself. He was etching those words into his mind—”constant vigilance”.

What was inevitable would come. It was like those two people in a math problem in school, one leaving from point A and the other from point B. Whether they were moving towards each other, away from each other, one fast and one slow, or vice versa, they were destined to meet. Then, you’d be asked how long it would take for them to meet or at which point they would meet.

The hotel lobby was the point where Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao would meet.

At 7 a.m. Beijing time, the five celebrities, who had coincidentally ordered breakfast to their rooms, gathered in the hotel lobby for the first time.

In front of the cameras, they lined up, exchanging polite greetings that seemed warm but were actually distant.

Lu Yiyao stood in the center, with Xia Xinran and Gu Jie on either side of him, while Ran Lin and Zhang Beichen were on the outer ends. The arrangement appeared casual but was actually based on their popularity.

During the handshake, Ran Lin barely touched Lu Yiyao before the latter quickly pulled away.

To the camera, it might have looked like a handshake, though not a warm one, but definitely polite and friendly. However, Ran Lin knew that there wasn’t any actual contact, and Lu Yiyao didn’t even make eye contact with him.

Ran Lin felt disheartened. Lu Yiyao clearly wasn’t indifferent, and it seemed a grudge had been formed.

Just as he thought about returning to his original spot, Xia Xinran suddenly pulled him back next to Lu Yiyao, then quickly moved to Ran Lin’s spot, swapping their positions. This left Ran Lin standing next to Lu Yiyao.

“You probably wanted to stand here, right? Haha,” Xia Xinran joked narrowly, with a mischievous look on his face. He wore a long red down jacket, making him look tall and beautiful.

Describing a man as beautiful might seem odd, but it perfectly suited Xia Xinran. His face was one that many girls would envy: fair, delicate, softer than most men but with more vigor than most women—a natural beauty.

Facing Xia Xinran’s prank, Lu Yiyao could only frown, and Ran Lin, seeing the teasing in his eyes, could only feel helpless.

Xia Xinran, not content with just that, leaned over Ran Lin and asked Lu Yiyao, “Did you see that Weibo post? Ran Lin’s confession to you?”

Lu Yiyao internally cursed Xia Xinran a hundred times but maintained a handsome smile on his face, asking naturally, “What Weibo?”

Xia Xinran, thinking Lu Yiyao genuinely didn’t know, blinked and explained clearly, “The one where he signed an autograph for a fan and also wrote ‘I love Lu Yiyao’. It went viral. Haven’t you seen it?”

Lu Yiyao feigned surprise as if hearing it for the first time, looking at Ran Lin. Ran Lin felt sure Lu Yiyao had seen it but was just playing along. “That was really embarrassing. I’ll explain it to you later.”

Lu Yiyao appeared unsatisfied but decided to let it go, saying, “Alright then.”

Ran Lin smiled graciously at his “idol”.

Of course, the promised explanation in the future would never happen. Both of them disliked their own actions.

The “idol” looked at the distant blue sky, thinking, ‘Lu Yiyao, when did you become so hypocritical?

The “fan” looked at the ground, thinking, ‘Ran Lin, can’t you ever speak the truth?

Xia Xinran’s mischief didn’t create the expected waves and seemed disappointed. Just when he was about to say something else, the usually quiet Gu Jie suddenly said, “Today, we just happen to represent five colors.”

Everyone looked at him, clueless. Gu Jie wasn’t particularly eloquent, but he spoke firmly. “Green, yellow, red, white, black.”

Only then did everyone realize Gu Jie was referring to their outfits. Xia Xinran wore a bright red down jacket, Zhang Beichen a bright yellow short cotton jacket, Lu Yiyao a green windbreaker, Ran Lin a white short down jacket, and Gu Jie a black leather biker jacket.

Five people, five colors. All in casual wear, the hardest to pull off was Lu Yiyao’s, whose bright green color stood out everywhere, impossible to lose in a crowd, and the outdoor windbreaker lacked any shape. Yet, he wore it with style.

It was a natural ease and composure radiating from his bones, more casual than Xia Xinran’s flamboyance, gentler than Gu Jie’s indifference. As if he was truly there for a holiday, even if slightly awkward in front of the camera, he stayed true to himself.

“So, what’s the significance of these five colors?” Xia Xinran understood that Gu Jie was talking about their clothes but still didn’t grasp the meaning.

Gu Jie slightly leaned forward from the group and explained, “In ancient times, these five colors were considered fundamental. Basically, these five colors could be used to create all other colors.”

Xia Xinran tilted his head. “So?”

Gu Jie looked at him quietly, his masculine face exuding peace and serenity.

Xia Xinran waited for two minutes, finally realizing that Gu Jie had finished speaking.

A gust of wind whistled through the revolving doors, chilling the hotel lobby. The atmosphere turned incredibly cold.

Ran Lin wanted to facepalm. Better yet, he wished the cameraman would turn off the equipment and let them all huddle in a corner for a while.

Finally, even the director couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He had originally wanted the female host to wait a bit longer, giving the guests more time to interact, especially Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, who had such heated topics to discuss. However, the five of them had managed to turn the conversation into a frozen wasteland.

“Hello, National First Loves. I’m Bai Rong, and I’ll be with you every step of your journey! I bet the fangirls in front of their TVs have already blacklisted me, but for the sake of our idols, I’m willing to take the plunge! Without further ado, I’m sure our idols are most curious about what we have planned for today and the challenges awaiting them…”

The lively hostess said this, then suddenly turned to face the camera.

“I declare here that everything that follows is unknown to our National First Loves. Like everyone else, I’m very curious to see their performances… National First Love Drifting Story, go!”

With the hostess’s lead, the atmosphere finally improved a bit. The five men, led by the hostess, exited the hotel and entered the large seven-seater SUV provided by a sponsor, waiting at the door.

One driver, one cameraman, and the temporarily taskless hostess got into the production team’s car, leaving one seat for each of the five men.

“Aren’t they even going to tell us where we’re going?” Xia Xinran, sitting behind the driver and the most indifferent to the camera, was the most talkative.

Lu Yiyao, sitting behind the co-driver’s seat, kept a gap between him and Xia Xinran.

“You’ll know when we get there,” he said, patience being something he never lacked.

“You really are something. Twenty years old with the patience of an eighty-year-old,” Xia Xinran teased and then turned to the three men in the back. “Hey, aren’t you guys curious at all?”

Zhang Beichen smiled good-naturedly. “It’s more interesting not knowing.”

Xia Xinran rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed.

Ran Lin was surprised. With his back to the camera, Xia Xinran didn’t bother to hide his disdainful attitude. He suddenly remembered that Zhang Beichen and Xia Xinran were from the same company, yet since the beginning, they had barely interacted, almost like strangers.

Zhang Beichen, seemingly used to this, naturally ignored the look, his expression unchanged.

Unaware of these undercurrents, Gu Jie only heard Xia Xinran’s question after Zhang Beichen’s response, “Aren’t you curious?”

Gu Jie replied simply, “No.”

Xia Xinran regretted asking him, even more so than asking Zhang Beichen.

“You can’t be the same as those two, right?” The curious Xia Xinran finally turned to the most transparent person.

Ran Lin, not wanting to leave him empty-handed, thoughtfully analyzed and cautiously shared his guess, “We might be going to the pier.”

Xia Xinran wondered why his answer was so specific. “Why?”

Ran Lin hesitated. Just giving an answer was one thing; if his analysis turned out to be wrong, that would be embarrassing.

Growing impatient, Xia Xinran urgently called out, “Linghu?”

This caught Ran Lin off guard. He was unsure if it was intentional or accidental.

It seemed this was unintentional. Xian Xinran’s expression changed when he realized his slip-up, quickly explaining, “I’ve seen videos of your character online recently. Your ancient costume looks really good. It’s memorable!”

Ran Lin was amused and conflicted. He disliked Xia Xinran’s attitude towards Zhang Beichen but found him to be a straightforward person without much guile, unsure what to make of this interesting character.

“Explain why you think we’re going to the pier?” Xia Xinran brought back the main topic after the digression.

Ran Lin thought since he had joined this supposedly most authentic and realistic reality show, he might as well speak his mind. If he was wrong, then so be it. “When you travel to Guilin, how can you not see the landscape? And to see the landscape, how can you not cruise on the Li River?”

Xia Xinran blinked blankly, swallowing his follow-up question.

This was because he knew nothing about Guilin, and if he let his curiosity get the better of him, his next question might embarrassingly reveal his ignorance about what the Li River was. Clearly, his present “colleague” had done his homework. Although Xia Xinran wasn’t the brightest, he knew better than to keep asking and risk exposing his lack of knowledge or making a fool of himself. So he chose to pretend to understand and keep his lack of knowledge to himself.

Ran Lin realized from Xia Xinran’s expression that he didn’t understand, but kindly didn’t point it out.

Lu Yiyao, who had been sitting upright, looking straight ahead, suddenly turned back. Ran Lin was caught off guard and met his gaze directly.

It was their second eye contact since the airport incident, and this time, Lu Yiyao initiated it.

With his handsome eyebrows slightly raised and a look in his peach blossom eyes that was anything but friendly, as if he disliked Ran Lin showing off his intelligence, he said, “Don’t be so certain. What if you’re wrong and get embarrassed?”

Ran Lin looked back at him intently, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Then I’ll just act cute.”

A moment of silence followed, with only their gazes locked in wordless conversation.

Finally, Lu Yiyao calmly withdrew his gaze, sitting upright again, chin up, looking forward. He resolved to delete that retweeted post about the airport misunderstanding when he got back!

How hard is it to maintain a good public image?

Lu Yiyao thought it depended on one’s definition of “hard”.

For him, it was like enduring a bleeding heart while still having to smile and act cute. In the end, this even became a dark joke used against him by others. Yet, he still had to maintain a composed and strong facade. This was already pushing the limits of how harshly he could treat himself.


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

Escape From the Asylum Ch96

Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

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


Chapter 96

Inside room 1111.

In the dimly lit room, there was a pungent smell of blood. Two fresh bodies lay silently on one side, their grotesquely battered faces covered by nylon bags. Opposite them was a signed photograph of a handsome and elegant man.

It seemed that one of the couple was an ardent admirer of someone named “Luo Yu”. They regarded him as an idol. Their visit to Blue Harbor City and stay at the Saiya Hotel was specifically to meet him and get his autograph.

Luo Yu had an air of scholarly elegance about him, not at all like an idol. He wore glasses, and the eyes beneath them held a smirk, giving off an unnerving sense of insight.

Holding the photo, Zhou Qian felt a strange sensation, as if he was truly making eye contact with Luo Yu. Strangely, Zhou Qian also felt that this man looked somewhat familiar.

The photo was a Polaroid, which meant someone must have taken Luo Yu’s picture on the spot and then asked him to sign it as a keepsake. What particularly caught Zhou Qian’s attention was the banner behind Luo Yu in the photo, which read: [Meeting, July 23, 1997.]

The content before the word “Meeting” wasn’t captured, which left room for various interpretations such as “concert”, “meet-and-greet,” and so on. Due to the obscured portion, Luo Yu’s identity remains uncertain.

However, the date after the word “Meeting” was particularly intriguing. After Zhou Qian entered the hotel, he noted the year was “Blue Harbor City 1997”. However, the players, being budget tourists, checked in in October, not July. This meant that the two victims in this room might have arrived in Blue Harbor City only three months ago.

Something wasn’t adding up.

The male-female pair of killers supposedly committed suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning many years ago. Those who died at their hands should have existed many years prior, like the family of three in room 1108. So why were these two recent guests of the Saiya Hotel victims?

Initially, Zhou Qian assumed all the deceased he and Bai Zhou had encountered were victims of the male-female duo. They were simply replicated into this alternate dimension, re-living their lives and being killed again, but this time by Xiong Fei and Li Yuan.

This new clue completely overturned Zhou Qian’s previous assumptions. Why were a couple who checked into the Saiya Hotel room 1111 three months ago dragged into this alternate dimension and subsequently killed?

Frustrated, Zhou Qian complained to Bai Zhou, “The plot is becoming illogical. We must have missed something.”

But what did they overlook?

After some thought, Zhou Qian had an epiphany and gestured to Bai Zhou before quickly heading towards the exit, exclaiming, “The lounge!”

Shortly after, Zhou Qian and Bai Zhou arrived at the lounge area, right opposite the elevator. The coffee table had several magazines and books.

Zhou Qian remembered flipping through one in a hurry during a previous discussion. Suddenly, he recalled seeing something related to “Luo Yu” in a magazine, which might explain why the man in the autographed photo seemed familiar.

After rushing to the rest area, Zhou Qian quickly picked up several magazines and spread them all out on the coffee table. He then tried his best to recall in which magazine he had seen the name “Luo Yu”.

His eyes quickly scanned the covers of these magazines. In a short while, Zhou Qian had an answer and immediately reached for one of the magazines.

Unexpectedly, at that moment, Bai Zhou also reached out to that magazine, and their hands suddenly touched.

Bai Zhou remained still. He lifted his slender index finger slightly, then let it down, making a soft sound.

Turning his head, Zhou Qian glanced at him but didn’t linger. He was the first to pull out the magazine.

After flipping through the magazine for a few pages, Zhou Qian found what he was looking for—an introduction to and an interview with Luo Yu.

[Luo Yu: Best-selling fantasy novelist, known for “Dual World”.]

[Have you ever heard of this urban legend? One day, when you take an elevator, you might enter a parallel dimension and meet another version of yourself. The parallel space defies your imagination. The “you” in that world might be a monster. Who knows?]

[That’s the story of “Dual World”.]

[The author, Luo Yu, believes that there are actually two layers to this world. We usually can only see the first layer, but not the second.]

[The second layer is a complete replica of the first world. There exists another version of us, identical to us in every way, familiar with every detail of our lives. Unfortunately, while they can see us, we cannot see them.]

[So, if one day you encounter another version of yourself, please be careful. They might be from the parallel world, trying to replace you.]

[In “Dual World”, the male protagonist’s doppelgänger from the alternate dimension comes to the real world, wanting to replace the protagonist and stay in this world. After the protagonist discovers this, he engages in a series of strategic and physical confrontations with his other self.]

[The plot is full of ups and downs, with countless thrilling moments. Want to know if the protagonist eventually triumphs or if he’s replaced by his evil twin?]

[Don’t just be intrigued. Buy the book and find out the ending!]

Frowning, Zhou Qian turned to the next page and immediately saw an interview related to Luo Yu.

Reporter: “I heard you’re going to have a book signing in Blue Harbor City soon?”

Luo Yu: “Yes. Miss, you’re quite informed!”

Reporter: “Haha, it’s because I’m a fan of your books. I really love ‘Dual World’. May I ask, the reason for going to Blue Harbor City is…”

Luo Yu: “I’m going there for inspiration.”

Reporter: “Let me guess, are you preparing for your next book? Oh my god, am I privileged to get some early news about your new book from you? What kind of story are you thinking of writing next?”

Luo Yu: “It’ll still be fantasy-themed. My readers love that from me. I’ve recently taken an interest in murder cases. Blue Harbor City has several famous serial murder cases. I want to go see for myself.”

Reporter: “Ah, are you referring to the murder case at the Saiya Hotel?”

Luo Yu: “Yes, that’s the one. I want to visit the places where the murderer stayed. Maybe they will return from hell to meet me… and provide some inspiration. Who knows?”

Reporter: “You mentioned earlier that the theme is fantasy, so it’s not entirely a detective novel?”

Luo Yu: “It’s not a detective novel. There will be fantasy elements involved. It might even share the same world view as my book ‘Dual World’. I still need to think about the specific setting. Right now, I only have a preliminary idea.”

Reporter: “Wow, I’m truly looking forward to it!”

……

After a while, Zhou Qian closed the magazine.

After pondering for a bit, he looked at Bai Zhou and said, “All the illogical phenomena finally have a clear explanation.”

“This so-called alternate dimension—it’s actually constructed by the author Luo Yu.”

“In a sense, we’ve stepped into the world of a novel!”

“Luo Yu writes fiction, using everything that happens in the real world of Blue Harbor City as his material repository.”

“Now, he’s using a series of murders committed by a male-female duo as a basis for his story. When these serial murders occurred in the real world, they happened in strict chronological order.”

“But when the author writes, the order in which these case materials appear in his mind isn’t linear. There’s no set pattern or logic.”

“One day, Luo Yu might suddenly remember someone he met ten years ago, thinking their character would be interesting to use, so he writes them into the story. Another day, he might pass by the hotel reception and find the receptionist’s appearance unique, so he includes them as well. Moreover—”

“Many details might be fabricated. Because when an author creates, he embellishes and imagines many things. Thus…”

“That’s why the information in this world seems so chaotic!”

Events and people in the real world couldn’t be linked in any systematic way to phenomena in this alternate dimension. There was no logical correspondence between the two.

Unless one considered this alternate dimension purely as the author’s fiction and deliberate arrangement.

Luo Yu was a fantasy author. After getting clues about him, everything seemed to make perfect sense to Zhou Qian—

Many serial killers in the world act alone. Cases involving cooperative efforts, especially between a male and female pair, were rare.

On top of that, the fact that the woman was having an affair and teamed up with her lover made the story even more tantalizing, adding a dramatic twist perfect for a novel.

All the victims stayed on the 11th floor, and crime scenes bore the symbol of an inverted pentagram, adding a mysterious layer to the murders and fueling wild speculations.

Thus, the murders committed by the male-female duo made the Saiya Hotel famous, causing a huge sensation.

The fantasy author Luo Yu was drawn here because of this.

Looking for inspiration, Luo Yu stayed here for a long time, possibly up to three months.

During these three months, he stayed in the Saiya Hotel day and night, feeling the presence of the male-female duo and enjoying the sensation of being surrounded by the vengeful spirits of the victims…

The hotel’s atmosphere inspired his writing.

He wrote prolifically.

Regarding the serial murders committed by the couple, he combined historical records and archives he found with his imagination to create multiple crime scenes in the Saiya Hotel.

Therefore, there was no time travel or temporal dislocation.

People killed at different times appear in the same space simply because it was a space constructed by the novel.

However, during the creative process, the author Luo Yu obviously encountered some issues.

For instance, the police might release only limited information about victims, and only a few cases might be suitable for turning into fiction.

Moreover, most real-life victims might have been ordinary-looking people with no distinct features.

But the victims Zhou Qian and others saw in this alternate dimension were all handsome men and beautiful women. This was probably Luo Yu’s artistic touch.

In conclusion, based on real history, to enhance the drama, Luo Yu used his imagination to create many new victim profiles.

For example, if he met an impressively beautiful female reader at a book signing three months ago, he might write her into the story as one of the victims.

That was why those who appeared at the hotel three months ago were also present in this dimension. Furthermore—

Zhou Qian looked at Bai Zhou and spoke his thoughts out loud, continuing, “For instance, when he saw that eleven poor tourists checked into the Saiya Hotel, he got a new inspiration.”

“For the nine of us who are still alive, he had a moment of brilliance and thought that maybe the story of the parallel worlds could be applied to us. Hence, all nine of us have doppelgangers.”

“He probably thought that a game of strategy and mutual destruction involving nine original individuals plus nine counterparts from another dimension, totaling eighteen people, would be a fascinating plot for a novel. Furthermore—”

“Xiong Fei and Li Yuan were killed. Luo Yu might have chanced upon their bodies, so that night, when brainstorming for his novel, he created a pair of executioners based on them.”

“The author saw how they were slashed in the throat, so they were portrayed by him as monstrous killers whose heads can fall off and whose necks can spurt blood.”

“Of course, the method of killing by this pair of executioners is based on the real deeds of that man and woman in history! Speaking of that man and woman—”

Bai Zhou took over. “I need to correct my previous speculation. The scenes where that man and woman fall in love aren’t flashbacks from before their deaths but are probably just the author’s imagination.”

“Yes. Wait…”

Zhou Qian continued, “Let me think… monstrous killers, love story, male monster seducing a man… No, that’s not right—”

“What I just said isn’t entirely accurate. This dimension might not exactly be a novel written by Luo Yu, but rather his draft or collection of materials!”

“For the story about Xiong and Li, Luo Yu wrote it quite messily with many illogical parts. The love story of that man and woman isn’t clear either—”

“All of this isn’t a fully-fledged novel yet. The author is likely still in the process of gathering materials and organizing an outline. That’s why I say this alternate dimension is just his draft world.”

“As for the author himself right now, he is…”

“If he can see us, and he saw Xiong Fei and Li Yuan, then in the real world, the author Luo Yu must be staying at the Saiya Hotel, and probably on the 11th floor. The most likely room he is in—”

Hearing Zhou Qian say this, Bai Zhou looked at him, and they both simultaneously uttered, “1103.”

The room 1103 was where the male and female murderer duo often stayed. It was also the room where they took their own lives.

In the interview, Luo Yu mentioned that perhaps the man and woman would return from hell to converse with him.

Therefore, with the intention of feeling the aura of their deaths and to get inspiration, he might have stayed in room 1103.

When the players checked in, Luo Yu might have been hiding somewhere in the lobby or in a dark corner of the first-floor corridor, watching everything.

He silently heard the front desk say that only the 11th floor had rooms and silently watched everyone take the elevator up.

Finally, he also went to the 11th floor, checked into 1103, and included the new people he met and the inspiration he got into his novel draft.

Now, Zhou Qian and the others had entered the world of Luo Yu’s manuscript, which was based on some historical data, combined with his own imagination, sudden insights, and his private settings.

Therefore, because the draft also contains a “dual world” setting, the players might be hunted and replaced by their alternate selves.

After organizing his thoughts, Zhou Qian said, “If we, as mere tourists, can enter the world of the manuscript, is it possible that the author himself might also come in?”

“Possibly,” Bai Zhou replied. “So, maybe when we find him, we can figure out how to leave this place.

“There are countless room 1103s in this space right now. He might be in one of them. He might not even know what has happened and might still be writing.”

“We really need to get out,” Zhou Qian said. “This theory probably hits the nail on the head. The situation is going to get more dangerous.”

“First, the swastika killer who murdered Xiong Fei and Li Yuan might be another serial killer imagined by the author. If the author imagines this and incorporates this setting into his draft, there might be another terrifying murderer hunting us in this space.”

“Second, if the author gets inspired and randomly decides to kill off a character, any of us could be killed off at any moment. This is his manuscript world; whatever he decides is logical.”

By the end of this conversation, Zhou Qian shook his head. “A virtual game from an exhibition hall? This is bigger than I thought. Initially, I believed it was just a time-travel gimmick. I underestimated it.”

“Of course, this theory only explains the plot clearly, but there’s still a fundamental problem we haven’t solved.”

What Zhou Qian was referring to was the issue related to the elevator and the floors.

No matter which number the players press inside the elevator, they always end up on the 11th floor, but they encounter different murder cases each time.

After a moment, Zhou Qian put down the magazine, and he and Bai Zhou exchanged glances in the dimly lit rest area.

Together, they uttered the same two words. “Page number.”

……

Inside the virtual game hall’s private room.

The gamblers were silent for a long time, completely stunned.

[What exactly is the relationship between Zhou Qian and 137—]

[Why are you asking that? Is that the main point? The main point is, what do they mean by “page number”?]

[It’s a shame that the gambler who previously sent Zhou Qian a reminder message isn’t here.]

[Yes, even though his theory about 137 was wrong, he was right about He Xiaowei being fake! He’s too sharp. If he were here, we could ask for his opinion.]

[Wait, don’t we have Priest? Priest, what do you think?!]

Seeing the gamblers looking at him, Priest began to explain, “Zhou Qian has already analyzed that this world isn’t a complete novel. It’s a world formed by the author’s drafts, written in the hotel for inspiration.”

“The author is writing about a series of murders. So, how do you think an author would organize the drafts for such a complex case for convenience?”

Without waiting for an answer, staring at the screen, Priest continued, “For example, on September 7th, 1987, a family of three was murdered. I would label it as A1 and place it on the first page. News reports, police disclosures, and crime scene photos are all there.”

“Then, on this page, I would write an outline about this case—”

“The outline would describe how a man, a woman, and a child were killed by a murderer with specific features in a particular way. They lived in room 1108.”

“Next, on January 29th, 1988, an elderly woman and her granddaughter were victims. They lived in room 1112. I would place this case on the second page of the draft.”

“On April 5th, 1988, another murder of a couple took place. They stayed in room 1108. This case is on the third page of my draft…”

“In this way, I think you should understand easily.”

Priest said, “A man and woman duo are the murderers, and all the victims are on the 11th floor. Based on this case, Luo Yu created his novel. Thus, every page of his manuscript has cases occurring on the 11th floor.

“That’s why, no matter which number is pressed in the elevator, players always end up on the 11th floor.”

“Upon exiting the elevator, players see different murder cases. It’s not because they’ve traveled to different times, but because they’ve opened different pages of the manuscript.”

“So, the numbers on the elevator panel don’t represent floors, but page numbers in the manuscript.”

[Shit, is that even possible?]

[Wait, the elevator only has 12 buttons, but the manuscript has many pages, right? How does that work?!]

[Bro, that’s the point! Zhou Qian pressed “11” twice and saw different murder cases. Why? This can be explained by the problem you just raised—]

[The elevator only has 12 buttons, but there are many pages in the manuscript. So, the relationship between “elevator numbers” and “page numbers” is “one-to-many” rather than “one-to-one!”]

Priest said, “Yes, the elevator only has 12 buttons. So, when Zhou Qian and the others pressed for the 11th floor the first time, they might have ended up on page 11 of the manuscript.

“But the second time they pressed for the 11th floor, they might have been on page 22, which is twice 11.”

“The murder records on these two pages of the manuscript are different, so of course, the scenes they saw were different.”

“Of course, this pattern is just my speculation. How the 12 elevator buttons correspond to different pages of the manuscript is something they’ll still need to figure out. Also—”

Priest narrowed his eyes and said, “When Zhou Qian and 137 met that man and woman, they had already entered the manuscript world. After that, they successfully made it to the main hall.”

“So, pressing the number ‘1’ still gives one a chance to get to the first floor. Players won’t always be stuck on the 11th floor. It’s just a matter of probability.”

“However… I suspect that the first floor is quite dangerous now.”

The gamblers all asked in unison, “Why?”

Priest explained, “Because when they first discovered that pressing the numbers in the elevator only takes them to the 11th floor, most people would instinctively press ‘1’ several times. Common sense and past experiences would make them believe that they can exit the hotel from the first floor, thinking it’s the safest.”

“The reason Zhou Qian and his group never encountered other players is because they never pressed the button for the first floor.”

“But it’s different for other players. Most of them will meet on the first floor. And don’t forget, based on the author’s ‘Dual World’ story setting, another group of ‘players’ will emerge from an alternate dimension.”

“So… the current situation on the first floor is probably chaotic.”

At that moment, inside the game,

When Zhou Qian looked at Bai Zhou again, his expression had become more serious. “If the author’s manuscript isn’t very long, by trying a few more times, we can figure out its pattern. What we need to do next is find the author of this manuscript world and find a way back to reality.”

“Yes, we need to do it quickly. Then go to the first floor,” Bai Zhou said.

“We indeed need to hurry. He Xiaowei probably pressed ‘1’ multiple times, thinking he saw a ghost. He might have encountered the fake players.”

Zhou Qian’s expression turned grave. “I just hope that Hidden Blade’s intuition is reliable. At least he can protect He Xiaowei a bit. Wait, can he really handle it? He is He Xiaowei’s master after all.”

“Don’t worry. Under such circumstances, ‘intuition’ will be very useful.” Bai Zhou said, “When I played dungeons with Hidden Blade, his intuition was always accurate. He typically grasped the moves of the boss and the location of treasure chests quickly—”

Before Bai Zhou could finish, Zhou Qian, while pressing the elevator button, interrupted him with a simple “Oh.”

Bai Zhou sensed something but wasn’t entirely sure. “Zhou Qian?”

Zhou Qian walked into the elevator first, then looked at him thoughtfully.

Bai Zhou entered the elevator and looked back at him uncertainly. “Zhou Qian? Do you have something to ask me?”

Zhou Qian: “After we came out of ‘Last Wish’, why did you disappear for seven days and didn’t contact me?”

Bai Zhou: “I went to play some instances. Why?”

“Right, instances.” Zhou Qian asked, “With Hidden Blade?”

Bai Zhou: “?”

Zhou Qian no longer looked at him, just at the number panel. After the elevator doors closed, the number “12” reflected Bai Zhou’s face. Zhou Qian pressed it firmly with his thumb.

“Forget it, let’s go. We have to find the pattern between the page numbers and the elevator numbers, and that author.”


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