The moment he entered the fan group, an announcement popped up. Lin Shile opened it and found exactly the cloud-drive link he'd been looking for.
He copied the link into his browser, but instead of a PowerPoint file, the browser brought up instructions for downloading the Kuke app.
Without hesitating for a second, he tapped Secure Download. Once the app was installed, he followed the prompts to enable link access and various other permissions.
After setting everything up, he switched screens, returned to the group, and tapped the link again. This time, there were no interruptions: it took him straight into the Kuke app.
He scrolled down and tapped Save Directly, only to discover that direct saving required a paid VIP membership. Scratching his chin, he promptly chose the slow download option instead.
The progress bar was taking ages, so he switched screens and returned to the gossip group.
All sorts of gossip had been shared in the group, not just stories about the current washed-up celebrity scandal. Lin Shile opened the posts one by one, and the things these gossip-loving netizens showed him truly broadened his horizons.
Under their expert guidance, he'd successfully ascended to the summit of the gossip-eating world.
Just as he was thoroughly enjoying himself, the group owner suddenly posted: [Babies, please stop posting these things in this group. We might get shut down by the platform. If you want more gossip resources, please head to Penguin group 520xxxxx. Thanks for cooperating.]
Sure enough, as soon as the owner spoke, everyone stopped sharing and discussing gossip there and migrated over to the Penguin group instead.
Lin Shile followed the crowd of gossip enthusiasts, copied the Penguin group number, and immediately applied to join.
When he submitted his request, a question appeared: What kind of person do you belong to?
Was this some new meme on Douba?
He hadn't been spending much time on Douba lately, so the question was completely unfamiliar to him.
When you don't understand something, ask Baidu. One search and you'll know.
Fuck. How corny.
The answer was: I'm someone who belongs to you.
Lin Shile strongly suspected the group had been created by kids born after 2010. It was a bit childish.
But after joining, he discovered that he was the childish one. The group's atmosphere was nothing like he'd imagined. Its members shared practically everything.
The group had clearly existed for a long time. Its pinned highlights and file archives were packed full of high-quality material.
Celebrity gossip and links to every kind of website were available. It was a rare treasure trove that would be hard to stumble upon again.
The owner of the Penguin group was the same person who ran the Douba group.
Group Owner: [New babies, please change your display names to “I belong to you, xxx.” Thank you for cooperating.]
The owner then tagged the administrators: [Please immediately remove anyone underage, anyone whose account level is too low, and anyone who doesn't change their display name! Thank you~]
Administrator 1: [Understood!]
Administrator 2: [All the resources in this group are shared free of charge. However, because of copyright restrictions, most resources are provided as links only. Anyone who wants them should follow the relevant platform's requirements and pay to watch or read. Babies who can't afford paid content are also welcome, because we have plenty of free resources waiting for you too~]
Administrator 3: [Babies, please don't trust anyone in this group who adds you out of nowhere or offers you benefits without being asked! They're bad people who want to steal your kidneys! Don't trust them! Thank you for cooperating!!!]
Looking at the girls' adorable anime profile pictures and rather embarrassing display names, Lin Shile wondered whether these little cuties were really all adults.
Three minutes later, an administrator issued another reminder, urging anyone who hadn't changed their display name to hurry. They'd start kicking people out in three minutes.
With no other choice, Lin Shile hesitantly changed his name to: I Belong to You, Your Sweet Little Baby, Mwah~
Don't ask why he chose such a mortifying name, much less why he'd added an even more mortifying flourish at the end. The answer was that he'd tried one perfectly normal name after another, only to find they were all taken. This one was the only name that worked on the first try. Smile.
After he changed his name, a notification popped up from the Kuke app: the PowerPoint had finished downloading.
Lin Shile switched over, opened the presentation, and began scrolling. The dense walls of text gave him a headache.
There were dozens of slides—more material than in his group assignments. It really delivered on the promise of “pictures as proof.”
The entertainment industry was deep, murky water. So Lin Shile remained fairly calm when he saw text and photographs that would have to be censored before being shared publicly. It was only when he scrolled to the final slide that he lost his composure.
Perhaps in an effort to attack every male idol with 12 million followers indiscriminately, someone had included gossip about him on the very last slide.
The title was even: “Bonus Gossip: Not Fresh, but Guaranteed Rotten.”
Lin Shile narrowed his eyes, frowned, and pursed his lips in speechless irritation.
His timeline was different from those of the dozens of others. Theirs all covered roughly the past month. His alone went back two years.
No wonder the gossip wasn't fresh but was guaranteed rotten. These ancient scraps of gossip were lucky not to stink already. How did anyone have the nerve to drag them out again?
Still, he'd scrolled this far. It would be a shame not to read it.
He carefully examined every piece of gossip about himself. Most of it wasn't too bad. Only the final claim was so ridiculously false it was laughable.
The last item read: “Lin Shile Spotted Kissing President of Xingyue Entertainment in Underground Parking Garage—Secret Romance Suspected.”
Below the text was a blurry photograph taken from an extremely awkward angle. You could just about make out one person gripping another by the neck as they stood very close together, but it was impossible to tell exactly what they were doing.
When something is unclear, the human brain automatically fills in the gaps with imagined scenes. Judging from what Lin Shile knew of the original owner and Zhu Huai, the probability that they were kissing while one held the other's neck was zero. The probability that they were having a furious argument was 99.9 percent.
–
Accidents were common on rainy days, and sirens sounded continuously outside the hospital ward.
Lin Shile walked to the window. Looking down, he saw ambulance after ambulance arriving; in the distance, a tree had been mercilessly struck by lightning and knocked over beside the road.
Luckily, it had fallen onto the pavement. Otherwise, who knew how much additional time it might have cost the emergency responders?
Ambulances came and went. Then a crowd of people carrying video cameras appeared out of nowhere, and Lin Shile immediately ducked behind the curtain.
Perhaps it was an occupational reflex: whenever he saw reporters, he wanted to hide.
The sky was overcast, dark clouds pressing against the horizon, while the icy wind blew fine rain into the dim hospital room.
Hidden behind the curtain, Lin Shile secretly watched what was happening five floors below.
Some of the reporters kept craning their necks toward the upper floors with cameras on their shoulders. Others paced back and forth in the drizzle, making anxious phone calls. Still others squatted on the ground with worried faces, apparently uncertain what to do.
Gathering his courage, Lin Shile poked his head out and surveyed the area. Security guards had been deliberately stationed all around the hospital. No wonder the reporters could only stand in the drizzle, waiting impatiently.
If he was right, that male idol with 12 million followers had, by sheer rotten luck, ended up in the same hospital as him. Thankfully, the idol's team had had the foresight to arrange security in advance. Otherwise, there was no telling whether tomorrow's headline would be about the idol or Lin Shile himself.
If those reporters had gotten inside the hospital, they would have run around like rabid dogs. The thought alone made Lin Shile shudder.
He drew the curtain shut, but the moment he turned around, he was so startled by someone who'd appeared behind him that he backed up with nowhere left to go.
Bracing himself against the windowsill, he couldn't make out the person's face. The one thing he knew for certain was that he didn't recognize the man standing a short distance away.
Had some reporter sneaked upstairs?!
With the last of the outdoor light now blocked behind him, Lin Shile raised his hands defensively, looking ready to lunge forward and fight at any moment.
“Who are you?!”
Hearing the question, the man hurriedly averted his eyes from Lin Shile's swollen belly and smiled. “It's me, Chu Dalian.”
Chu Dalian?
Lin Shile remembered. Chu Dalian was one of Zhu Huai's three best friends.
His tense body relaxed all at once. “Sorry. It's too dark in here. I couldn't see clearly.”
Chu Dalian turned on the lights. “Looks like it's about to rain again. When I arrived, I saw a tree by the road that had been struck by lightning. I wonder if it's blocking anyone's way.”
Lin Shile returned to his hospital bed. “Hopefully not. The roads are already slippery when it rains, so getting around is hard enough.”
Chu Dalian walked over and sat beside his bed. “I heard you went to Southeast Asia to study two years ago. It's been a long time. You've changed quite a bit.”
Listening to his seemingly casual small talk, Lin Shile felt as though he were sitting on pins and needles. Panic filled him, but his expression remained calm. “I'm fine. I haven't changed much. How about you?”
Chu Dalian thought becoming a father really did make a difference. Even the way Lin Shile spoke was gentler than before, and he looked much softer too.
If he hadn't come today, who knew how much longer that bastard Zhu Huai would have kept all this from them?
Chu Dalian said, “I'm doing fine too. By the way, Southeast Asia's a big place. Which country did you go to?”
“Thailand.”
“Why Thailand? Why not Myanmar or somewhere like that?”
Lin Shile froze briefly, then invented an excuse. “Maybe because Thailand doesn't require a visa. Or maybe because its summers are beautiful.”
Perhaps because they really hadn't seen each other in so long, Chu Dalian had an astonishing number of questions. They came one after another like a barrage, leaving Lin Shile struggling to keep up.
Only when Aunt Fang arrived with dinner did Chu Dalian finally transfer his attention from talking to eating.
As he ate, Chu Dalian kept praising Uncle Dong's cooking, saying it was as delicious as ever, especially the tomato-braised beef brisket, which was so good he couldn't describe it.
Lin Shile could tell he genuinely loved Uncle Dong's food. By the end of the meal, Chu Dalian had polished off all five dishes and even drained the last bowl of cordyceps-and-mushroom soup.
Once they'd finished eating, Aunt Fang and the servants cleared the table and went home.
Following Aunt Fang's instructions before she left, Lin Shile paced around the ward for a while to help his digestion.
After two laps, he climbed back into bed. Chu Dalian was watching a comic dialogue performance with great enjoyment and showed no sign of leaving, so Lin Shile had to put his plans for a shower on hold.
“Would you like an apple?” Chu Dalian asked.
Lin Shile turned toward him, but before he could answer, Chu Dalian had already sat beside the trash can and begun peeling one on his own initiative.
He was so skilled at peeling apples that Lin Shile stared in amazement, envy practically spilling out of his eyes.
The peel hadn't broken once from the moment Chu Dalian began until the apple was finished.
Watching the entire unbroken strip fall into the trash can, Lin Shile asked sincerely, “Could you teach me how to peel an apple?”
“Huh…??” Chu Dalian paused. “Sure.”
He took a bite of the apple he'd just peeled, then picked up a fresh one and handed it to Lin Shile. He even thoughtfully moved the trash can closer to the bed.
He laid a tissue on the table, set down the apple he'd bitten, and handed the fruit knife to Lin Shile handle-first, adding a warning to be careful.
Lin Shile had always peeled apples with a vegetable peeler. This was his first time using a fruit knife, and he was secretly a little excited.
As Lin Shile worked, Chu Dalian coached him. “Hey, yes, just like that. Slowly.”
“Take your time. No rush.”
Under Chu Dalian's guidance, Lin Shile seemed to be getting the hang of it.
Chu Dalian said, “Lift the knife a little higher. That way, the peel won't get thicker and thick—” A sharp, ominous hiss interrupted his words. Seeing the fruit knife buried deep in Lin Shile's thumb, he failed to react for a moment and mechanically repeated, “Won't… get thicker… and thicker…”
Holy shit…
I'm done for. Zhu Huai is going to kill me, isn't he?!
