Chapter 102

Very Good

Song Xu, only now registering what he had said, was in despair. He looked to his manager for help, and found the manager's expression was even more despairing than his.

Two miserable bitter melons.

The manager desperately wanted to say something to ease the atmosphere, but his courage would not permit it. He didn't even dare look at Xu Chenzhu's face — he could only steal glances at Chao Musheng from the corner of his eye.

Having heard what Song Xu said, Chao Musheng's first reaction was a brief blank look, followed by a helpless shake of his head. No sign of anger.

The manager let out half the breath he was holding. At least Mr. Chao wouldn't pursue it.

A quiet laugh drifted through the air. The sound broke the manager's fear enough to make him look up at Xu Chenzhu.

Xu Chenzhu's face held an unusually open smile. "You two have quite interesting imaginations. Is that a trait of people in the creative industries?"

Manager and Song Xu exchanged a glance. Something confused turned over in them. Xu Chenzhu looked... not angry.

"Head back to the hotel soon." Chao Musheng echoed the smile. "Once you're settled, remember to let your fans know you're safe. Don't let them worry."

"Yes, Mr. Chao." Song Xu answered immediately.

The two of them stood there watching Chao Musheng and Xu Chenzhu go. Only when the figures had disappeared did the tension leave their backs.

"Next time, think before you speak." The manager said through gritted teeth. "If you actually offend the boss, you can go back home and live off your family."

"I didn't expect Xu Chenzhu and Mr. Chao to have such good hearing." Song Xu's whole face was a testament to survival. "Lucky they were in good moods and didn't make anything of it. But — don't you think there's a chance that they're real?"

"You're still shipping?" The manager was at his wits' end. "Naive. When has a boss ever shown displeasure to your face? Someone like you — they wouldn't even waste a look."

"You really think so?" Song Xu, rattled by this, swallowed and looked toward where the two had gone. "But I genuinely felt like Xu Chenzhu was in a decent mood just then, and Mr. Chao didn't look upset either."

"Xu-ge — get your head straight." The manager sighed. "If the entertainment division signs Luo Yixuan, that's one more person competing for top billing."

Kunlun's entertainment arm had been running at a loss since it was founded, and had recently gone through a major internal cull. He was worried the already-thin resources would shift toward Luo Yixuan.

Song Xu went quiet. He couldn't argue. But there was a baseless, inexplicable sense of calm in him — a feeling that Xu Chenzhu and Mr. Chao weren't going to hold it against him.

*

All compound staff had evacuated. Even the rescue workers had pulled back past the perimeter. Online, reports about the extreme weather at Baiyuan Villa were already circulating.

The professionals had no rational explanation for what had occurred. Relevant departments were gathered together, working through the considerable challenge of writing an official announcement.

After everyone had gone, the compound fell into an eerie quiet. In the dark corners, shadows slipped past — the players still trapped inside, unable to leave.

"Before the instance ends, they can't get out." Curly Hair stood on the top floor and watched them — players trying to leave and being pushed back by the instance boundary — her expression complicated beyond naming.

"When their life values reach zero, they'll die." Old He stood beside her. "During the gale, another five or six players were eliminated."

Curly Hair scanned the figures trying to escape — no sign of the security player among them.

She opened the player group chat and posted.

[Has anyone seen this player? (image)]

The photo was one she'd taken covertly — the security player's face clear and well-lit.

About five minutes later, someone in the group replied.

[He's dead. A man who appeared out of nowhere killed him.]

Killed by a person.

This was a law-governed world. Players could be erased by the system; they could meet accidents during their tasks. But the most anomalous thing was being killed by a world inhabitant.

Murder is illegal — that was the shared understanding of everyone in this world.

A composed, unhurried face surfaced in Curly Hair's mind. Was it connected to him?

"So the worst one is already gone." She raised her phone again.

"Xiao Juan — what are you doing?" Old He didn't follow.

"Saving their lives." She unlocked the screen and dialed emergency services.

"Hello — I was passing by the compound just now, I saw police tape outside the gates." The night breeze moved through her hair as she looked down at the dark corners below. "I can see about ten or so young people still inside. Are they staff?"

"Yes, yes — still inside, not willing to leave."

"How many?"

She swept a tool scan around the area. "Hard to tell in the dark — at least fifteen or sixteen."

She hung up. Old He was staring at her with full-face astonishment. She gave him a mild look. "They can't get out on their own. I called the police to come help. What's wrong with that?"

Old He was silent for a long time. He activated his skill again and looked above Curly Hair's head — and saw the data signatures unique to NPCs.

His throat went dry. Cold sweat formed on his brow. He took a quiet step back. "You're not Wang Xiaojuan."

"What do you mean by that?" She watched Old He edge away from her in visible alarm. "If I'm not Wang Xiaojuan, who am I?"

"You're an anomaly wearing Wang Xiaojuan's face." His hand had already found the rooftop door handle. "You're a very convincing copy — but you forgot. My skill lets me see NPC data."

"You're saying I'm showing NPC data right now?" Curly Hair finally understood why, when she had walked Old He through the compound gates, he had suddenly looked above her head. He'd seen data on me then too.

Something roared through her mind. She thought of Wan You, who also carried NPC data.

If Wan You had that data because this world had accepted and claimed her — then what about her?

Had this world silently decided she was one of its own?

In that moment, Curly Hair felt no panic. What she felt was a warmth she couldn't quite name.

She was not a stranger here.

"What are you smiling about?" Old He's rational mind told him to run. But watching Curly Hair's face full of quiet joy, he found he couldn't make himself treat her as a threat.

"I'm smiling?" She touched the corner of her mouth and found her lips were, in fact, curving upward.

"Old He — stop frightening yourself." Her mood had lifted entirely; she didn't tease him. "I'm Wang Xiaojuan. No one replaced me."

Old He told himself not to believe it so easily. But his heart was more honest than his reasoning. "Then why did you become like this?"

"Maybe this world accepted me."

"What does that mean?"

She laughed once and didn't explain further. "If you trust me — you can come with me."

Old He's head, uncharacteristically, went warm. "Where to?"

"The hotel." She held up her phone — in it, the room number Xiao Chao's assistant had sent her. "The organizers have arranged rooms for staff. Do you want to come?"

She walked toward him. He stepped aside to let her pass.

Curly Hair pulled open the rooftop door, turned on the phone torch, and lit the dark staircase as she went down.

Footsteps behind her. Old He had followed.

When they walked out through the compound gates again, a grey sedan was waiting outside.

"Passengers, welcome aboard. Please fasten your seatbelts."

The compound was out of the way enough that regular ride-share services couldn't reach it — she'd had to pay a premium for a chauffeured car.

The fare stings, she thought. Good thing that act of bravery at the hospital came with a reward — otherwise I couldn't even afford the ride.

*

Five minutes after the ride-share pulled away, two police cars stopped outside the compound gates — and brought the players who couldn't leave a complimentary set of rose-gold bracelets.

*

The car stopped outside the villa. Every light inside was on. Secretary Liu was standing at the front door, glancing out repeatedly with an anxious expression.

Chao Musheng stepped out of the car and was about to go around to the boot for his bag — Xu Chenzhu had already taken it out before him.

"Boss, Xiao Chao." Secretary Liu's expression eased at the sight of them. "I heard there was a bad wind at the compound. Are you both all right?"

"Thank you for worrying — I'm fine." Chao Musheng smiled at him. "You should get some rest."

Secretary Liu took a rapid glance at the bag in the boss's hand and nodded. "Knowing you're both safely back — I can sleep now. Good night."

Xu Chenzhu gave a slight nod.

Secretary Liu retreated to his first-floor room at top speed. The boss was still up; getting to sleep before the boss was a luxury. The day the boss would finally compliment him on his discretion had come at last.

Not long ago, Xiao Chao used to jump up and press the elevator button when the boss was present. Now he let the boss carry his bag without a second thought. The boss's good fortune was taking shape.

*

"Get some rest." Xu Chenzhu set the bag inside the room. "If anything comes up, you can find me — my room is next door."

"Mr. Xu — there are spare rooms on the second floor." Chao Musheng unclasped the watch from his wrist. "Why is it only me on the second floor? Secretary Liu and the bodyguards are all downstairs."

The room was very quiet.

A flicker of something unguarded crossed Xu Chenzhu's composed face. "You're... a key technical staff member. If you're next door to me, I can keep a better eye out."

"Ahhh." Chao Musheng drew the syllable out, watching Xu Chenzhu's gaze flicker and avoid his. He smiled and nodded. "I understand."

He set the watch on his palm. "Such a beautiful watch. Also a gift for me?"

"Yes." Xu Chenzhu's ears had gone the color of blood. "It doesn't suit me. It looks very good on you."

"Then I'll keep it." Chao Musheng closed his fingers around the watch and walked, still smiling, to stand in front of Xu Chenzhu. "Mr. Xu."

"What?" Xu Chenzhu took a step back — his upper body leaning, almost imperceptibly, toward Chao Musheng.

"Nothing." Chao Musheng's whole expression curved; his chest was almost touching Xu Chenzhu's. He watched a flush spread all the way down his neck, then stepped back with a laugh. "Goodnight. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." Xu Chenzhu turned with unhurried grace. The glasses chain described a silver arc through the air.

Chao Musheng looked at the empty doorway and laughed once to himself, then put the watch under his pillow.

He washed, lay down, and quickly dropped into a dream.

The glass box of tiny figures appeared again. This time he was a little closer to it — but still couldn't quite reach it before a wild and clawing wind blew him away.

*

Song Xu had slept fewer than five hours before his manager shook him awake.

"Xu-ge — I just heard from the entertainment division. Luo Yixuan has officially joined Kunlun!"

"That's another competitor for me. What are you happy about?" Song Xu, looking at the smile on his manager's face, felt a tightening in his chest. "Don't tell me the company assigned Luo Yixuan to you as well."

"No, nothing like that." His manager held out the phone. "The commercial team just told me — the endorsement for this month's new phone launch has been confirmed. It's you."

"What?!" Song Xu was suddenly wide awake. "Isn't the phone releasing this month a flagship model?"

"Yes — the commercial team said your thinking is clear and structured, and last night you were willing to pitch in with the people who needed help. It fits the image they want for this phone." His manager's face was lit up. "Xu-ge — your luck has arrived."

Song Xu grabbed his own phone, opened his personal account. The comments had overloaded the app.

[Congratulations to Song-dog — your good fortune is still coming.]

[I'll admit I was a bit loud with the criticism before. I'm unilaterally choosing to be affectionate toward you for the next two weeks.]

Strange. These comments were unusually kind. Had everyone online eaten mushrooms?

Then he found the video that had been circulating online — footage of himself, in his bathrobe, in a complete state of hair disaster, face contorted with effort, backside in the air as he lay on the floor hauling at the carpet.

His dignity was gone. Dead and buried.

The photo of him picking at his foot had been mocked for an entire year. This video — surely they'd mock it forever.

He opened the top comment section and stared.

Not a single person was making fun of him.

[Song-dog is rough around the edges today, but somehow more compelling for it.]

[You can tell he's really putting everything into the rescue. He's strained all ten toes.]

[The civilian is genuinely beautiful. Song-dog in front of the civilian looks more obedient than I do in front of my homeroom teacher.]

Song Xu could not understand this. Song Xu was lost.

The carefully shot airport photos his photographer had spent time on — those got picked apart. The video of him in a completely undignified state — and the comments were finding angles to praise him?

"Stop thinking about it." His manager patted his head fondly, the head that was never at its sharpest. "You helped rescue people alongside Mr. Chao. Even rival fan accounts can't really come at you the next two days, let alone regular viewers."

"Even so." Song Xu shook his head. "A video going viral for two days can't be what got me this endorsement deal."

"That's fair." His manager was puzzled too.

Fan attention was unpredictable — praise today, criticism tomorrow. The video would trend for two or three days at most, and then, unless they paid to keep it visible, it would vanish. An endorsement this significant couldn't come from a single clip.

"I think..." Song Xu gathered his courage. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

His manager went still.

"Don't you think there's a possibility." Song Xu's eyes were burning. "That after Xu Chenzhu heard what I said last night — that's how I got this deal."

He knew it. This time it was different. Mr. Chao and Xu Chenzhu are the real thing.

*

Some of the staff's footage of the gale had made it online. Viewers were arguing about it — some calling it a supernatural wind, a few anti-fans going so far as to blame specific artists. The organizers were being criticized too, accused of leaving the rescue entirely to guests while not a single manager showed their face.

The harshest criticism fell on Nangua Video, who handled it with fluency: an immediate apology, a commitment to cover all medical and recovery expenses for anyone injured, and care packages sent to the staff who had helped with rescue.

Nangua Video having moved so gracefully, the comment pile-on had to find a new target — and settled on 时光 Magazine.

An artist Chao Yin had declined to work with, nursing a grudge, had leaked photos online of her dining with friends the previous evening.

Staff on meager wages nearly dying in a gale; the editor-in-chief dining comfortably in a fine restaurant — what a perfect controversy.

Every personal marketing account, smelling blood, was ready to cut their videos together. But when they finished editing, they noticed that all the marketing accounts run by the major entertainment companies had, with notable consistency, avoided the story entirely.

A story this good, and they weren't touching it? That wasn't like them.

The independent accounts didn't understand what was happening, but reading the room, most of them kept their edited videos in drafts and didn't post.

Chao Yin's phone was ringing nonstop — partners and artists calling to offer help in clarifying the online rumors.

The gale had arrived without any warning. The moment Chao Yin heard about the compound, she'd gone back — hadn't even slept, stayed the whole night making sure her staff were settled.

The one who ultimately cleared up the public's misunderstanding about Chao Yin was, of all people, Nangua Video.

[@PuntingAt: Nangua handled this very nicely. Maybe 时光 Magazine could come and take notes.]

[Nangua Video replies to @PuntingAt: Hi, last night's wind came with no warning at all. At the time, many of the managers and artists were out for dinner. 时光's editor-in-chief rushed back to the compound the moment she heard about the disaster. The hotel we're all staying in was arranged through her personal connections.]

Nangua Video followed their reply with several photographs — images of the editor-in-chief helping staff with cleanup, and the hotel rooms and breakfast that had been provided.

Viewers immediately stopped criticizing 时光 and started envying the staff for living and eating so well, before noticing that something was off about Nangua Video.

Nangua Video, which normally only grabbed attention for itself — defending a partner? Was it raining upside down?

Whether or not it was raining upside down, the Nangua Video head didn't know. What he knew was that early this morning, Kunlun's representative Mr. Chao had shown up with breakfast for Chao Yin.

And he had accidentally overheard Mr. Chao call her mom.

Kunlun's representative was Chao Yin's son.

That Chao Yin had a family and a child was known in industry circles. Nobody had imagined the child would turn out like this.

He thought of his own idle, directionless kid, and felt a simultaneous sting of envy and sourness. If I had a child this capable, I'd sleep well every night.

Not only did viewers find Nangua Video's behavior inexplicable — so did industry insiders. Everyone who came to the head asking what was behind it got the same answer: this is what Nangua Video should have done.

Should have done our backsides.

Everyone knew what Nangua Video was usually like.

*

Chao Musheng had been back to say goodbye to Chao Yin and was now ready to go back to the capital with Xu Chenzhu.

"Xiao Chao." Curly Hair called out to him. "Wait for me."

"Were you waiting specifically for me?" He stopped. He'd noticed Old He behind her. "Why were you waiting outside? Why didn't you just knock?"

"You were talking with Chao-ayi. How could we interrupt?" She asked: "How is she?"

"Busy all night, she's eaten and gone to sleep now." He paused. "Are you going back to the capital? You can come with us."

"Not yet." She shook her head. "Xiao Chao — I want to see Old He home first."

"Back to his home town — to see his wife and daughter?" He still remembered what she'd mentioned about Old He's three-year-old daughter.

"Yes." She hesitated. "He hasn't seen them for a long time. And I don't know..."

"If he wants to go back, he should go. What's the difficulty?" He checked the time on his wrist. "The train station isn't far from here. I'll drive you."

Curly Hair noticed the watch on his wrist — the same one from the night before.

Old He's face was full of quiet anguish. "That's not necessary, Mr. Ch—"

Even if I could board a train in this world, I can't go back.

"Thank you, Xiao Chao." Curly Hair cut him off. "He always thinks he hasn't earned enough money to face his family. Isn't that backwards thinking?"

Chao Musheng smiled and pressed the elevator button. "Come on, both of you."

Curly Hair took Old He by the arm and stepped in. "Xiao Chao — you're not going back with Chao-ayi?"

"Mom still needs two more days in Linhai. Kunlun headquarters has a lot waiting, and Mr. Xu can't stay much longer." He pressed the floor. "I don't understand Mom's work well enough to be useful here anyway."

The elevator descended quietly. Old He's mind was too full of noise to take in what the two were saying.

When the doors opened at the underground car park, Curly Hair's exclamation startled him out of it.

"Xiao Chao!" She pointed at the gleaming car ahead. "Is that yours?"

"It's Mr. Xu's." He opened the door. "His private car here in Linhai. He let me take it this morning."

Curly Hair settled into the seat. The interior was beautiful. She looked carefully at Chao Musheng's expression. "Xiao Chao — Mr. Xu treats you really well."

He smiled. "Even you can see that?"

She sensed something slightly different about his smile — not annoyance, not discomfort — and nodded.

The car pulled out and enjoyed a run of improbable luck — nearly no traffic, and green lights almost the entire way.

"Here." He pulled into the train station carpark. "Old He — I'll walk you in."

"Thank you, Mr. Chao." Old He's lips were trembling.

"For a child, nothing matters more than being with their parents." Chao Musheng walked ahead. "There will always be more money. But a child only grows up once."

He stopped and pointed to the passage ahead. "Through there is the ticketing hall. I wish you and your family a happy life together. Take care."

Old He knew he couldn't go back. But in the warmth of the young man's gaze, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. He raised his foot and stepped through the door.

The wind moved the door, and it made a soft sound. Old He stepped through and looked back at the smiling young man.

Seeing him look back, the young man gave him a small wave.

The wind blurred his eyes. When he blinked them clear—

There was a gate ahead that he recognised.

Not the ticketing hall.

The gate of his housing estate.

"Dad!" His daughter stood there in a pretty princess dress with a small duck backpack, one hand on her hip and the other holding her mother's hand. "You promised you'd be first to pick me up from nursery today and you're late again! At lunchtime I dreamed you were fighting someone and I called and called and you didn't answer. Let me tell you — I am super super angry right now!"

He looked at his wife and daughter, dazed. Was he dreaming?

"Daddy, why are you crying?" She ran to him on quick feet and wrapped her arms around his leg. "I forgive you. I got three gold stars today, and the teacher gave me bear cookies — they're yours too. Please stop crying."

"What's wrong?" His wife came to him quickly. "Did something happen out there?"

He didn't care about the people walking around them. He opened his arms and held his wife and daughter tight.

So warm.

This time — it wasn't a dream.