Production coordinator: “So how did meeting your girlfriend go today, idol? How many bases did you get to?”
Production coordinator: “You're home this early. Don't tell me the equipment in front doesn't work?”
Production coordinator: “Or did you suddenly realize at the crucial moment that you like men?”
Shen Jing finally snapped. “Dear Coordinator, never ask me to record for you again!!!”
With that, he kicked the router over. Out of sight, out of mind, leaving the coordinator on the other end frantically repenting and begging his idol not to be angry.
Just then, Shen Jing got a call from Potato in customer service. “Boss, got any new products coming out? Lots of customers are waiting.”
“No.”
“Boss, quit hiding them. Give me one to test. Free labor, you know!”
“Cabbage called me about the same thing yesterday.”
“What? What's Cabbage trying to do? He actually—” “Stop bothering me right now!” Shen Jing was furious. Wrapped in his blanket, he rolled back and forth across the bed, utterly unable to understand whether being good-looking was somehow a crime.
He rolled with increasing abandon and increasing smoothness until the ceiling light crashed down. Only then did Shen Jing's eyes fly open. He sprang up and discovered that the whole floor was shaking violently. He could not stand steady at all.
“Holy shit, it's an earthquake!”
Shen Jing grabbed the nearest inflatable doll and ran. At that exact moment, the door leading to the living room swayed and crashed down, while bricks collapsed from the ceiling everywhere. Pain exploded through Shen Jing's whole body and he lost consciousness. In the final instant before everything went black, he was calling for the soldiers of the People's Liberation Army, hoping he could hold on until they came to rescue him. He could give every one of them a limited-edition inflatable doll from his shop—