episode 9
"Tsk...pretty stubborn."
Before the girls could speak, He Xun impatiently reached out and deftly pulled out the phone that the man had hurriedly hidden in his waistband.
"Give it back! What right do you have to take my phone!" The man was furious, wriggling around like a worm.
He Xun remained motionless, pressing him firmly against the wall, and unlocked his phone with one hand: "What's the password?"
"Do you think I'm stupid?! I'm not going to tell you..."
Click—
He Xun held the phone up to the man's face, and Face ID unlocked it successfully.
The man was on the verge of a breakdown: "...Damn it!"
The phone screen lit up, and surprisingly, it showed a video website.
He Xun's brow twitched, and he keenly clicked on the profile picture in the upper left corner. The profile showed that this person had just posted a video a minute ago, and the cover photo was of Meng Xiaoyun and a group of girls that he had just secretly photographed, with a maliciously blatant title—
"The ladies are back at work!"
Meng Xiaoyun leaned closer, and after seeing the title, she clicked on the video in disbelief. A lewd male voice then rang out from the phone.
The video is short, but the other party's words are full of slander, claiming that these girls are engaged in some kind of improper profession. The language is ambiguous and quite suggestive, which is a standard way to spread pornographic rumors about women online by exploiting information gaps.
His homepage has dozens of similar videos, all featuring women, indicating that he hasn't been in this line of work for very long. The comments section is entirely filled with men, who are enthusiastically celebrating, like twisted creatures fermenting from a dark corner. Every few seconds, a new, obscene comment or emoji is added.
It's like a modern-day online witch hunt.
The girls were furious.
"Idiot!"
"That's disgusting!"
"You think you can even be considered a person?!"
"What's the difference between you and an animal! Fuck your grandpa!"
Caught red-handed, the man could no longer deny it. In his panic, he even tried to argue that he was a reporter and that he made the video simply to conduct a social experiment.
He Xun sneered: "You don't even deserve it."
"I really am! I even have a press pass! You won't believe me, just look!"
After saying that, the man struggled and actually pulled out his ID from his pocket.
What's even more absurd is that the certificate actually had a red stamp on it, making it a genuine press card.
He Xun casually glanced at the documents, but his eyes suddenly sharpened. He grabbed the other man's collar and said in a deep voice, "Tell me, what is the first principle of a journalist?"
"Yes...yes..." the man stammered, unable to give a coherent answer for a long time. Clearly, he had long forgotten everything he had learned in school.
He Xun said coldly, "Truth is paramount."
The man immediately chuckled awkwardly, "Yes, yes, that's what I mean."
"Accurate factual elements, objective reporting process, and resistance to fake news."
"right..."
"Reporting the news requires not only the truth of specific facts, but also the truth of the essence. It requires in-depth investigation to reveal the overall picture and inner essence of the event, and to avoid one-sided or superficial reporting."
"yes..."
A mocking glint flashed in He Xun's eyes as he tightened his grip: "So, what did you do?"
"I--"
Before the man could finish speaking, He Xun suddenly raised his hand and punched him. The punch was fierce, and blood gushed from the man's nose instantly. His glasses flew more than ten meters away, startling the girls around him who covered their mouths and gasped in shock.
He Xun, however, was completely unaware. He squatted down, grabbed the man's hair, and forced him to raise his head.
The man stared blankly into his gaze, his heart skipping a beat.
He Xun's eyes were icy cold, bloodshot veins gradually spreading across his eyeballs, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged: "Delete the video, get out!"
"I...I...I'll delete it right away..." The man's legs were trembling, and he didn't even dare to wipe the blood from his face. He shakily took the phone and said in a cowardly, almost pleading tone, "I...I'll just delete the account, okay, bro? I'll delete it right away!"
After deleting the account, the man didn't dare to linger for a moment and ran away as fast as he could, as if he would pee if he stayed any longer.
a long time--
He Xun stood up, put his hands in his pockets, narrowed his eyes, stared at the staggering figure, and uttered a soft remark: "Worse than a dog."
A night breeze swept by, and his chilling aura gradually dissipated. Only then did Meng Xiaoyun dare to step forward. She cautiously asked, "Um, handsome, thank you so much for earlier. Are you... alright?"
"...It's nothing." He Xun composed himself, regaining his gentle and aloof expression. He lowered his eyes and said, "I'm sorry, I startled you."
*
He politely declined the girls' enthusiastic invitations and went to the mall to buy a few outfits according to his own plan. After shopping, he found a reasonably clean restaurant and had a beef hot pot meal, enjoying his hard-earned vacation alone.
Today, he was not only going to encounter a scoundrel in the news, but he was also destined to spend money. On his way to take the bus, he happened to run into a camera store. Unable to resist the urge, he immediately went into the store and skillfully bought a SONY ZV-E10 mirrorless camera.
Thanks to his previous profession, he naturally had some experience in buying cameras.
Although this camera might not be up to par for experienced photographers, He Xun has always liked to be unconventional in such matters. He was drawn to its unique cinematic atmosphere after taking photos, and its small size and lightweight design made it perfect for carrying around.
And the last point, which is also the most important:
This is a camera with slight scratches on the outside, and the location and size of the scratches match the one he used before he died.
He Xun is quite nostalgic.
However, it's normal for people to think that defective products should be sold cheaply to avoid becoming unprofitable assets. This also explains why the word "defective product" is often used in a derogatory sense. So when the shop owner behind the counter saw He Xun's almost obsessive gaze toward this "defective product," his expression was subtle, naturally revealing a look of "Does this person have some serious illness?"
Fortunately, the boss wasn't stupid; he just smiled and said that He Xun had gotten a good deal.
He Xun ignored this and stared at the other person's actions of packing the tripod. He reached into his pocket and touched a cigarette pack, so he asked, "Brother, can I smoke?"
"Sure, handsome, go ahead and do whatever you want."
The shopkeeper casually shoved the ashtray right in front of He Xun's eyes. Seeing He Xun light a menthol cigarette, he couldn't help but turn his head and ask, "Handsome, why are you smoking such a slim cigarette? Isn't that for women?"
He always felt that a young, masculine man of this age should at least have some serious exercise.
He Xun despised such rhetoric. He had been called a sissy by his stupid male classmates when he was a child, but he didn't get angry. He flicked the ash off his cigarette with his finger and asked in a gentle tone, "What's the difference between men and women? Aren't they both human beings?"
Whether the boss took it to heart or felt awkward about rudely refusing a customer, he simply laughed and praised what the man said for making a lot of sense.
After packing up the tripod, the shopkeeper started rummaging through the camera boxes, making small talk and complaining: "The economy isn't doing well right now, business is tough. It's almost the end of the month, and only two people have come in so far. You're the third, handsome, and the only one who's willing to spend money."
As he spoke, he seemed genuinely puzzled, yet also hinted at something: "Everyone says they have no money, but some people still drive luxury cars and live in villas. Where does all that money go?"
He Xun sat casually in a silver lacquered round chair, a cigarette between his fingers, exhaling smoke rings. He smiled at the boss's words, but his tone was indifferent: "He went to the people he was supposed to go to."
But then again, what does it mean to 'should go' and what does it mean to 'not should go'?
Who knows?
As they were talking, the shopkeeper finished packaging the camera and handed it to He Xun. Then he took out his phone and tried to get closer to him: "Handsome, let's exchange contact information. I regularly post new videos on my WeChat Moments, so it will be more convenient if you need them."
Even though he knew it was a marketing tactic, He Xun didn't show the slightest impatience.
He stubbed out his cigarette, deftly showed the QR code, and patted the other person on the shoulder in a friendly manner: "Okay, remember to let me know next time you have good stuff."
"No problem! Come visit often!"
He Xun politely said goodbye to the other party and walked out with the box in his hand.
The night was pleasant, the moon was high in the sky, and the dim streetlights shone on his dark head as he strolled along the yellowed wall to the bus stop.
When no one else was around, he indeed reverted to his expressionless, indifferent face.
He wasn't born with that "speak human language to human beings and ghost language to ghosts" personality; to put it bluntly, it was all shaped by the harsh realities of society.
—On the eve of graduating from university, He Xun, who originally intended to become an investigative journalist, accidentally became an entertainment reporter.
Although both belong to the field of journalism, their job duties are fundamentally different.
Compared to a high level of education, being an entertainment reporter depends more on personal ability and connections. You need to have your own channels to have the opportunity to interview at press conferences for TV series and movies, or at various celebrity fan meetings.
Entertainment reporters need work, and celebrities need popularity; both get what they need.
Even in certain special circumstances, the line between entertainment reporters and paparazzi is not very clear, and there are many people who make money by wearing both identities.
Therefore, apart from a very small number of young masters and ladies who come out to experience life with their own connections, most ordinary people like He Xun from ordinary families start as celebrity assistants and agents in order to accumulate connections and pave the way for their future work as entertainment reporters.
What the common people say is true: the entertainment industry is a big melting pot, a dog-eat-dog world where only the fittest survive.
Of course, that's a high-sounding way of putting it; to put it bluntly, it's a hotbed of fawning over the powerful and belittling the weak.
Having money isn't enough; you also need power.
If you have money and power, you're the boss, the honored guest. If you have no power or influence, then sorry, you can only be looked down upon and have to get lost.
When He Xun first entered the industry, no one taught him these things; he had to learn them all on his own.
He's suffered quite a few setbacks: being fired for intervening when he couldn't stand a female star bullying a young extra; having his interview retracted the same day because he described a male star's demeanor too realistically; and being ostracized by almost everyone in the industry for offending a powerful figure's mistress with his careless words...
He couldn't count all of these kinds of things on two hands.
Fortunately, he eventually adapted, albeit with some stumbles. At least on the surface, he has cultivated the ability to understand people's hearts and do what he wants without being annoying.
—Although he was unwilling to learn these survival skills that he found almost nauseating.
Oh, right, most importantly, he's already dead in that world, and those unpleasant memories are no longer relevant to him.
The scene from the pedestrian street just now flashed before my eyes again—
This is the second time.
"You should mind your own business from now on."
He Xun said self-deprecatingly.
......
The Mo family's villa.
He Xun carried large and small bags back to his room. Just as he stuffed the things into the closet, he heard someone hurriedly push the door open and come in.
He turned his head suspiciously, and the first thing he saw was a tube of clear glue, followed by a pair of dark hands.
Then my gaze moved upwards and met a pair of somewhat familiar, beady eyes.
Is that... the little male servant who gave him a hard time at the dinner table that day?
He Xun later inquired about his name, which turned out to be quite nice: Ji Ruoyang.
In silence, the two looked at each other.
Ji Ruoyang probably didn't expect there to be anyone in the room. His face gradually showed shock, and his already not-so-fair, round face became even darker, making him look like a black-skinned egg.
If the lights hadn't been on, He Xun would have almost not been able to see him.
"......"
After a moment of silence, He Xun raised an eyebrow and glanced at the object in the other person's hand again.
At this point, even a fool could see that the glue was meant to be poured onto his desk.
At the same time, it turns out that people can actually laugh out loud when they are speechless.
He had seen plenty of filth in the world, but this was the first time he had ever seen someone framed in such a... such... such a stupid way.
What are you going to do?
He Xun couldn't help but chuckle, then closed the cabinet door, put his hands in his pockets, and walked casually to the other person.
Ji Ruoyang, trying to cover his tracks, put his hands behind his back and said curtly, "Nothing!"
"Is that an old-fashioned popsicle you're holding?"
"......"
"Me, me, me,"
Ji Ruoyang's face turned green. He suddenly felt that provoking the person in front of him was a mistake.
He Xun stared at him for a few seconds, then reached around to his back and deftly pinched his wrist with his right hand.
"ah!"
Ji Ruoyang cried out in pain and immediately let go.
The glue clattered to the ground.
He Xun bent down to pick it up, played with the glue in his hand for a couple of moments, then glanced at Ji Ruoyang: "Why are you acting like a little idiot? You don't even know how to frame someone. Do you want me to teach you?"
He had no intention of finding out why Ji Ruoyang was making trouble for him.
Humans are driven by greed, anger, ignorance, hatred, love, aversion, and desire; there is no other reason for these.
He's seen far too many people like that.
Or perhaps it was due to uncontrollable forces arising from being in the world of a novel?
"What nonsense are you spouting?!"
Ji Ruoyang gripped his wrist, which had been pinched red, and glared fiercely at He Xun, whom he had previously labeled as a weak and frail pretty boy.
"If you really hate me, then I'll teach you."
He Xun's smile faded slightly. He reached out and grabbed Ji Ruoyang's collar, leaning down to whisper in Ji Ruoyang's ear: "If you really hate me, you should push me down the stairs when I'm not looking, bring a lighter and set my room on fire in the middle of the night, splash my face with the most corrosive sulfuric acid, stab me hard in the back with a knife, and inject cocaine into my body with a syringe."
With each sentence He Xun spoke, Ji Ruoyang's face grew paler.
His legs trembled uncontrollably, and his back was already covered in cold sweat.
Do you dare?
The smile vanished completely from He Xun's face, and his dark eyes seemed to be filled with ice.
Thin shoulders, pursed lips, and pale skin all gleamed coldly under the incandescent light.
It's as if you're sketching with a sharp knife, or as if you're looking at someone else through him.
The chilling gaze made Ji Ruoyang's heart pound; his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.
madman.
It seems he really messed with the wrong person.
"If you don't dare, then don't play these childish tricks in the future."
After a long while, He Xun slowly released his grip, a mocking smile playing on his lips: "I don't like it."
*
Republic of Korea.
It's 8 PM.
Several men in suits walked out of the conference room, chatting and laughing.
"I had heard that Mr. Mo was young, handsome and talented, and seeing him today, I can confirm that he lives up to his reputation. Not only is he good at games, but he is also more eloquent than I imagined."
A middle-aged man in a gray suit complimented Mo Shilin in strangely accented Chinese and invited him to dinner: "Since you're here, we should do our duty as hosts and have a meal together."
Mo Shilin loosened his tie, his deep features illuminated by the flashing lights of the building behind him, adding to his sex appeal.
He flew here in person this time to secure the distribution rights in China for a very popular multiplayer online battle arena game from country K.
The developer was a K national with one-third Chinese ancestry, and he was notoriously difficult to deal with. I thought it would take some effort, but he had already recognized Yuntu's huge influence in the Asian market. After a token discussion on details such as the agency area, sales targets, and commission structure, he signed a formal agency contract with Yuntu on the spot.
Mo Shilin was in a good mood and naturally accepted the invitation.
However, the food in K country, a desolate place where all you could eat was pickled vegetables and radishes, was obviously not worth it. He was a picky eater to begin with, and when he arrived, he didn't even touch his chopsticks. After downing a few glasses of alcohol, he started smoking.
But clearly, the other party wasn't just inviting him to dinner.
After a few rounds of drinks, the bright lights turned into an ambiguous and enchanting purple, and then a row of handsome men and women with exquisite makeup walked in.
Several of them are currently popular idols and actors in Korea.
Everyone picked someone they liked to come and drink with them.
Do you prefer men or women?
The developer, standing nearby, casually put his arm around a slender actress who usually presented a pure and innocent image, then turned to Mo Shilin and asked him in a respectful tone.
Most people like them are indiscriminate in their sexuality; even if they sleep with someone of the same sex, it doesn't mean they truly like them—they just treat them as toys.
Mo Shilin crossed his long legs, a cigarette between his fingers, and glanced over casually, shaking his head with a half-smile.
"I guess you like men."
The man gave a knowing smile, groping the female star's body while gesturing to a male idol next to him to sit down.
The young idol, with her pink hair, sat shyly next to Mo Shilin, biting her moist lips, and greeted him in broken Chinese.
It seems they learned Chinese specifically for today.
Mo Shilin didn't move, but simply exhaled a smoke ring and coldly scrutinized the person in front of him, seemingly seriously judging their appearance.
Meanwhile, someone in the corner, taking advantage of the chaotic atmosphere and lighting, quietly raised their phone.
Seeing that the man didn't react, the young idol assumed he liked to take the initiative, so she boldly reached out and touched the man's lower abdomen.
Before his hand could even touch him, Mo Shilin grabbed his wrist tightly, whispered a few words in his ear, and then released his hand.
Looking at the little idol's face, it had turned deathly pale. He clutched his aching wrist and took a few steps back, no longer daring to approach.
*
At nine o'clock, Mo Shilin walked out of the club, loosening his tie.
Upon seeing this, Assistant Li, who was leaning against the wall video chatting with his wife and daughter, quickly hung up his phone, hurried to the car, and opened the car door for Mo Shilin.
After everyone got into the car, Li Mu went to the driver's seat, turned on the navigation, and set the destination as a nearby five-star hotel.
What time is your flight tomorrow?
Mo Shilin leaned back in the back seat, rubbing his temples as he asked.
"Your flight is at 7 a.m. tomorrow, Mr. Mo."
While touching the steering wheel, Li Mu took a moment to glance at his boss in the rearview mirror.
The man with a cold expression leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, his tie loose, and his hair, which he had styled in the morning, looked somewhat disheveled.
Seeing his expression, Li Mu couldn't tell whether his boss had actually done anything romantic inside.
After all, in his mind, no rich man is a good person.
How many people can be as virtuous as Liu Xiahui? Not to mention that their own CEO has an excessively attractive face.
I remember reading in some TV series that it said a man's handsomeness wouldn't make him great, it would only make him arrogant, promiscuous, and messy, and he would think it was perfectly normal.
"How are the preparations for the charity gala going?"
Mo Shilin's cold voice suddenly rang out, and Li Mu's heart skipped a beat. He quickly straightened his back and replied, "Mr. Mo, the venue has been set up, and the list of attendees was sent to your email this afternoon."
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