Chapter 106 Exhibition 3: A Wonderful Day at the Exhibition (The protagonist's understanding of "home" has been modified...)
The dim overhead lights illuminated the massive mechanical skeleton surrounding the building—steel die-cast arms, welded rails, hydraulic grabs, and automatic conveyor arms, arranged like a steel cathedral ready to be started.
They were originally just cold, impersonal exhibits, but now they seemed to sense your presence, and one after another they began to vibrate and hum.
"Location established. Target acquired."
The broadcast sounds, and the robotic arm rises simultaneously, a red scanning light sweeping across your face.
You turn and run, and the first heavy metal door crashes down in front of you!
Where did this metal door come from?! And you still have the nerve to complain!
You immediately change direction, quickly scanning the surroundings as you run.
What's wrong? Ah, they weren't being controlled by anyone—they "woke up" on their own.
The first cutting arm roared off the display stand, sending a shower of sparks flying at you; you fell to the ground as the iron arm swept past your back, lifting a few strands of hair, and then another display stand beam crashed to the ground, making your teeth chatter.
They are not bulky. They are precision instruments, the pride of their makers, and—hunters.
You tumble and dart across the scattered display labels, passing a disassembled assembly robot, when suddenly, the transport track ahead clangs, and several pincer-like grippers swarm up along the track like leeches!
Is there anywhere I can hide?
Your gaze swept around and you spotted what looked like a small storage room ahead. You leaped inside.
As soon as the door closed, a heavy "click-clack" sound came from outside—the doorknob was slowly turning!
Leaning back against the door, I searched everywhere—tool rack? Display case? Sealing tape…canned food containers?!
Wait—canned food?
Your eyes glance at a stack of sample cans on the display stand—labeled "Loss Industrial Food Packaging Showcase," used to demonstrate their automated canning technology!
Your eyes lit up immediately.
You recall your supermarket shopping experience from always bringing back small gifts for the dorm supervisor: in Los Angeles, canned goods and can lids are sold separately.
You may have seen this when you were doing homework or helping your aunt look up information before. It says that because of their production chain, the lids need to be vacuum-sealed with matching equipment, so they are often sold in batches in advance.
And then, where are the lids—you see them! Right there in the plastic box next to it, a whole bunch of metal round lids, each with a flexible sealing ring, neatly arranged.
Okay, let these machines do their jobs, and maybe they'll behave themselves.
If these "can sealing devices" used for demonstrations were alive today, they would know that their job is not to capture a human, but to seal canned goods!
You immediately grabbed a few can lids and slammed them shut.
Almost simultaneously, the outer door was slammed open, and a tracked welding machine rumbled into the room.
Its front nozzle flashed blue light, and the high heat had already distorted the air.
The light scanned the room, only detecting the slight swaying of the curtain where you were barely hiding.
You push a can onto the ground.
Will it succeed?
The sound of metal hitting the ground was crisp and noticeable. The machine immediately turned its robotic arm and aimed it at the can—starting the sealing process!
boom--!
Amidst the flying sparks, its metal arm carved a series of marks on the floor, instantly igniting the display carpet, but you had already taken advantage of the moment it was busy with its "main job" to rush out through one side of the door.
Running along the next exhibition aisle, the aftershocks of the welding machine "explosion" behind you even shook the exhibition panels a few times. You could hear several machines colliding with each other, a chaotic scene indeed.
Without operators, they are interfering with each other.
You ran so fast you were almost exhausted, but you still didn't dare to stop.
As you rush into the buffer zone before entering the next exhibition area, you turn around and take one last look at the chaotic and roaring industrial pavilion.
The metal monsters are still colliding, misidentifying, and correcting their mistakes.
You leaned against the wall, panting heavily, your lungs feeling as if they were being scorched in a furnace, and sweat pooled into a wet streak on the back of your neck.
You were completely exhausted from that chase.
But you don't have time to relax.
The exhibition hall door ahead creaked open automatically, as if inviting you to the next level. You knew there was no turning back; you could only move forward.
The plaque in the exhibition hall reads in both Chinese and English: "Complex structures are also art."
You frowned.
This area wasn't mentioned in your file. But you didn't care and walked right in.
However, you were stunned as soon as you stepped into the exhibition hall.
The entire wall—no, three walls and the floor—was covered with illuminated partition modules.
The huge grid blocks slowly rise and fall, slide left and right along the mechanical track. Each block has a cold metal frame and a glass-like core, and its familiar geometric outline shines under the colored lights.
Square. L-shaped block. Z-shaped block. Strip block.
Is this—a real-life version of Rose's Cube?
Your mind goes blank, and the next second, the ceiling suddenly opens, and a huge "block" slowly descends, crashing down in front of you with a deafening thud.
An orange "T" block fits precisely into the gap left under your feet.
It's almost enough to flatten your foot!
You finally understand what this means.
This is a physical game based on the culture of the Kingdom of Los. And you must survive to "play" this game.
The lights on the wall suddenly flashed, and a line of red text appeared: "Welcome to the 'Los Kingdom Industrial Stacking Challenge'. The VR technology is provided by a company in the Flower Kingdom. Visitors will experience a fully immersive interactive system."
Whose VR headset can use sensors?
When faced with a problem, you turn and run away. No matter how many times, you handle it this way.
As expected, the doors around him closed again, forming a completely enclosed space. The only way out was to complete this block battle.
The second blue strip is falling from the sky.
You immediately backed up, found a horizontally missing empty space, and quickly jumped in.
"Click." The block landed, perfectly aligning with the row below it, and emitted a "beep" vibration.
An electronic voice sounded in your ear:
"Combination complete. Next round begins."
You simply can't believe you just—"deleted" a line. That's it??
But the blocks in the Kingdom of Los disappear automatically when a row is filled.
My mind was still foggy, but I dared not stop.
The third piece is shaped like a Z.
While you were dodging, you observed and quickly reviewed the game's logic in your mind: as a national cultural phenomenon, the Rose Cube has become a national symbol, both in the country of Rose and throughout the world.
The original game originated from the former Ross Academy of Sciences, and its philosophy is—control and arrangement, order and space, efficiency is survival.
Based on this, the idea is to place you on a platform where blocks are constantly decreasing, requiring real-time dodging and judgment, and to give you a judgment mechanism where you can "get a breather as long as you fill a row".
However, it seems that the "fill a row" rule is not working right now.
When the fourth piece fell, you missed the opening and your toes were trapped.
You grit your teeth and struggle free, blood seeping into the soles of your shoes, the excruciating pain making you dizzy.
"No... I can't die here." You look up at the ceiling; you need to find another solution!
The speed of the Rose Block will increase, and it won't stop until it fills the top square. With nowhere else to go, you can't just obediently let yourself be crushed.
Pay attention to the shape of the volume above your head, and find a safe place to stand beforehand.
By the way, the falling of the blocks seems to have nothing to do with you; it just "automatically" fills the most suitable gaps. If that's the case, then what is your role in it?
No wonder it didn't disappear... The rules of the normal Rose Blocks are obviously irrelevant to you, and you need to find the game rules that apply to you.
Another long strip of paper came crashing down on your arm!
Startled, you are drawn to the relief sculpture along the long side of the wall.
This looks like—encoding.
You then examined the several volume blocks that fell in succession and confirmed that each volume block had this code.
Oh right! This is a trade fair. You won't just randomly walk into a "game console," but you do remember a section about "games and entertainment" where there were lots of Rose Blocks as decorations.
If that's the case, then the part on the side of each volume block should be its serial number and factory code, like an industrial component.
In that case, perhaps the rules of your game can be found in the "combinable logic" of these decorative building blocks.
Building Blocks…
The most important thing when playing with building blocks is to buy models of the same type with the same coding. Otherwise, the blocks may not fit together properly or become impossible to separate after being forced.
Your eyes lit up.
What does this mean? It means that you need to see if the number combination is correct, regardless of the shape—the system may only then determine it as a "complete combination"!
You immediately begin searching for numbers, trying to piece together a logically "correct combination," even if it doesn't look perfectly smooth.
When you dodge the next L-shaped block, flip over a block of a different shape from the side and push it next to another empty space.
Click. Beep—!
The group is formed!
You are overjoyed and start frantically building blocks, using misaligned but numbered modules to form a complete "row".
Rows of green light illuminated, indicating they were being eliminated.
Finally, a metal opening in the wall appears, and the platform begins to sink. You realize that this is a "passage door".
You limped over, turned around and disappeared into the end of the conveyor belt, heading towards the next exhibition area.
The excruciating pain in your feet was unbearable, so you forced yourself to steady yourself as you walked into the next exhibition hall—this was finally the Flower Kingdom exhibition area.
You are immediately enveloped by bright, almost dazzling lights.
This side seemed to have leaped from a cold, desolate abyss of steel into some kind of cartoonish futuristic workshop, filled with soft orange-pink and blue-white backgrounds.
High-tech products, cultural and creative light industry products, 3D printed cultural and tourism souvenirs... are displayed in a dazzling array on a semi-transparent acrylic rack.
The exhibition hall played upbeat promotional background music, and slogans such as "New quality productivity drives cultural revival" and "Technology illuminates traditional crafts" played on a loop on each screen.
It looks much more peaceful here.
But you didn't dare to let your guard down.
Sure enough, you soon saw several staff members in uniform walking towards you, their expressions serious.
In their hands, they were holding an identification form with your photo on it.
Just as you're about to slip away, you discover that these "staff members" aren't real people turned monsters, but robots.
They are part of the "checkpoint" here.
After calming down for a while, you took a few more steps and were blocked by an interactive welcoming robot that suddenly started up in front of you.
Its round head turned with a click, and the screen displayed the words: "Welcome to the Flower Kingdom High-tech Cultural and Creative Exhibition Area".
"Identifying the person..."
You break out in a cold sweat, wondering what trick it's up to.
The surrounding sound system emitted a cute electronic voice: "Please do not move the exhibits without permission."
"Do not run away."
—Well, you're locked on again. But it's better than being tracked by those "people" outside.
At your feet, a pile of children's programming educational toys begins to hum, and the little robots that were originally meant for "parent-child interaction" slowly start to move, their wheels drawing clear tracks on the floor as they line up to surround you.
"No way..." you murmured.
You step back and step on a pressure-sensitive panel. The projection equipment around you instantly activates, and an "immersive interactive performance belt" descends from the sky, projecting a scene of a "smart future city of technological flowers" around you.
You look up and see the wall automatically unfold, revealing a huge LED screen showing your figure "stealing" exhibits in the Los Angeles exhibition area—you can clearly see the action of holding skincare products.
…After spending too much time in a dungeon with poor surveillance, you almost forget that surveillance is such a good thing.
"The system identifies this person as a recorder of potentially harmful behavior."
"Please cooperate with the 'Accountability and Feedback Process for Cultural and Creative Products'."
You took off running and rushed into another exhibition corridor.
Now you understand, in this exhibition area without staff, the exhibits come to life on their own, and you are the key.
You attempt to fight fire with fire, luring exhibits from another area to clash with each other, but a soft yet chilling notification sound comes from behind you:
"The 'Immersive Cultural and Creative Supervision Module' has been activated for you."
What the hell! You kicked open the side door of an "AI Smart Exhibition Guide" with your still-intact foot and rushed into the core area of the exhibition.
The high walls are covered with mirrored projections, and hundreds of exhibits slide up and down in automatic trays, making it almost impossible to tell which way is which.
You rush to the cultural and creative jewelry section, and the previously still handmade lamps, magnetic levitation pen holders, and memory metal bracelets start up on their own one by one.
They swarmed around you like a group of awakened microorganisms, spinning rapidly.
It just circles around you, without doing anything else dangerous.
It seems they just want to trap you and make you obediently follow the procedures they provide—those strange, pseudo-human, gentle female voices are still chanting "cultural and creative industries" and "self-inspection," and you feel your head buzzing.
It seems that even here, the standards for the exhibition venue haven't changed. It still assumes that if you've ever sold counterfeit goods, specifically in this particular exhibition area, then you've spread false cultural content. Therefore, you must "personally complete a compliant cultural and creative process" before you can leave.
At this moment, the entire process has already started silently.
The table in front of you suddenly rises up, revealing raw materials, processing tools, and a small UV printer.
The LED screen displayed the instruction: "Please create a legal, compliant, and culturally correct cultural and creative product based on the Chinese culture."
You were shocked.
They actually made you "go through the entire process of creating a cultural product again"—is this supposed to be a "passing checkpoint" process?
Alright.
You quickly grab the raw materials, your mind racing.
Fortunately, the task your aunt asked you to do was roughly the same. You had researched some craft information: avoid superstitions, don't apply sensitive cultural elements, and don't fabricate workshop traditions...
You haphazardly cut out pieces of fabric, sewed them into a bookmark-like design with a QR code, drew a set of traditional solar term icons on the surface with a 3D printing pen, and then linked it to a mini-program for a cultural and creative voice introduction created by your aunt's team.
Data streams are jumping on the screen:
"In the process of detecting cultural attributes..."
"Detection of counterfeit ingredients in progress..."
"Meets the initial review requirements."
You let out a long breath.
Before you could even get your footing, the platform issued one last notification:
"Please submit this creative work to the main control terminal of the exhibition area."
You were taken aback.
Where is the main control unit? You don't know.
But you know you can't delay.
As you run around with your handmade bookmarks, the exhibition hall seems to constantly change its route, with laser guides appearing and disappearing as if deliberately trying to make you lose your way.
Finally, you see a metal workbench in front of you, receiving samples of handmade works.
You rush up, place the bookmark on it, the scanner sweeps over you and the bookmark, and the screen slowly displays a sentence:
"Confirmed: The manufacturer is a first-time cultural deviant."
"Confirmed: The manufacturer has completed the cultural restoration process."
"Clear the record?"
What record?
You hold your breath, filled with anticipation that this time your past identity as a black market reseller will be erased.
A moment later—
"Clearance successful".
All the companion robots, electronic voices, and floating recognition beams that were watching went out in an instant.
You stand in the center of the exhibition hall, and silence returns to all around you.
The electronic system's final voice softly rings out above your head: "Please continue your tour."
You let out a long sigh, feeling a bit annoyed. You were really dreaming! It's just the exhibition area's way of saying "let you pass."
As for the rest, you don't know whether you just dodged a sensitive censorship or completed a thorough cultural re-education.
But you know, from now on you will never dare to underestimate the word "cultural and creative". You will definitely buy the 50 yuan ice cream or doll at the scenic spot with a sense of awe.
What's the next level?
Dragging your injured foot, you are exhausted both physically and mentally.
This is the "Children's Products and Cultural Creativity Integration Experience Area". When you sneaked in, it seemed to be in the final stages of setup.
The ceiling of the exhibition hall was covered with colorful ribbons and light balls, the floor was covered with plush carpets, and rows of plush dolls, bouncy horses, talking bionic dolls, and a whole wall of "voice-controlled intelligent story machines" were neatly arranged on the display stands.
Looking at these things, you feel a sense of nostalgia, as if you're seeing your childhood again—this is the most typical export sector of China's light industry. From Yi Niao to Putian, from e-commerce platforms to live streaming rooms, these things have filled the whole world.
Hello, little friend.
You thought it was just an automatically playing promotional message and didn't pay attention.
But as soon as you turn around a display stand, dozens of pairs of eyes, like glass beads, stare at you.
The dolls, which should have been in various poses, were all sitting upright in the display case, their heads all turned towards you.
"You've arrived."
A voice sounds from behind you. You turn around abruptly and see only an elephant doll that you just passed by, standing upright in the aisle.
You don't remember ever seeing it.
You take a few steps back and look around. The interactive props that were originally neatly arranged on the ground have scattered and surrounded your feet in layers.
"Welcome to the Children's Dream Building Zone," the elephant mascot announced in a booming voice. "Please participate in the verification: Do you truly 'understand' children?"
The lights dimmed.
The next second, you are suddenly pulled into a pitch-black set. It's like being turned onto the back stage of a theater by a rotating stage.
You are now in a "maze" made of stacked plush toys.
The walls are covered with common designs like plush rabbits, cats, and dogs, and there are even Peppa Pig hair dryers and TuTu with little ears—do they really have copyright? You wonder in a daze.
The dolls, smiling, silently blocked every path.
You try to walk through it.
At first, your feet were just stepping on soft cotton cloth.
Then, one of the dolls you stepped on let out a sharp "Ah!" You immediately jumped away, and a crack appeared at the corner of the doll's mouth, revealing a row of rusty metal gears.
As you run with uneven steps, more and more dolls appear, surging towards you like a tide from the walls and ceiling.
They cried out, "Play with us!" "Don't you like us?"
"Did you not even try to understand us?"
You felt bitter inside as you ran away.
You've been an adult for so long that the things these kids played with have become a vague impression deep in your memory.
Do you understand children? You don't even know what children like these days.
When it comes to the next generation, all you can think of is "television ruined the post-90s generation," "the internet ruined the post-00s generation," and "live streaming ruined the post-10s generation"...
You chuckled, and based on this, you thought of all sorts of examples that are constantly being criticized online: Has technological progress really led to the establishment of a better humanistic spirit?
They stopped and the dolls ceased their pursuit.
You pick up a doll that at first glance seems to have a vibrant color scheme, but upon closer inspection, the highlights in its eyes are asymmetrical. The oversaturated colors also make your eyes feel uncomfortable.
Is the message being conveyed here about the inferior quality of the cheapest art products?
Upon closer inspection, many of these dolls are nothing more than mass-produced templates, or even AI-generated designs.
Despite the loud online outcry, the reality is that nobody cares what the children really want. As long as the colors are vibrant and the design is "human-like," the factory owners are satisfied, and then, through marketing, the products sell well globally at low prices.
You are chased by these failed, unsold, and discarded "corpses of industrial childhood," which cry out: "We also want a sense of belonging!"
You suddenly turn and crash into the space behind a display case, accidentally pushing open a half-open security door.
Behind the door was not a corridor, but a completely unfinished spare exhibition room.
It was another small workbench, with a copybook that hadn't been labeled yet.
You collapsed to the ground, finally able to catch your breath.
The group of dolls didn't chase after us, as if they were blocked by the boundaries of the scene.
You stare at the copybook that has fallen to the ground beside you.
The first page reads:
"Summary of export promotion strategies for cultural and creative products in light industry: Emphasize emotion and expression, downplay practical function."
You couldn't help but smile bitterly.
So who exactly is this exhibition trying to hold accountable? Is it the counterfeiters, or those who rely on emotional manipulation? Or... is it simply ready to shift blame onto any gap in the cultural chain?
Stand up.
After such a battle royale, you feel like you've grasped the logic behind the scenario.
Meticulous industrial production leads to rigidity and inflexibility; overly rapid development of light industrial cultural products results in the death of sentimentality, where bad money drives out good.
Even worse than these are the production and sale of counterfeit goods.
You've come to realize one thing: you can't survive until the end by resorting to tricks and improvisation. And the scenario isn't going to use these "come alive" exhibits to solve your problem.
Most importantly... your legs are really about to give out.
We need to find the organizer.
You believe that since an exhibition is a venue, only the organizer can adjudicate on substandard products or violators.
Thankfully, we're almost at where my aunt is.
When you finally find your aunt in a corner of the exhibition area, she is looking at all the other people with a bewildered expression.
She was standing behind a row of red arched decorative walls at the back of the exhibition hall, next to a whole set of cultural promotion display boards and cultural and creative display cabinets with dust covers.
The aunt looked grave as she spoke to another exhibition staff member who was barely recognizable as a human.
She seemed perfectly fine, and of course, she didn't think the other person had become a monster at all.
You're pretty sure your aunt hasn't changed at all, so you drag yourself to her side.
When she saw you rushing towards her, her aunt's face instantly changed: "What's wrong with you?! Where have you been? The whole exhibition hall has been looking for you! Do you know you're almost being mistaken for a criminal?!"
She spoke angrily in a low voice, but then grabbed you and looked at the injury on your foot and the dust clinging to your body.
You lowered your head, looking like a child who had done something wrong, panting heavily: "...I didn't expect this. I, I didn't expect them to find that batch of goods...That was a long time ago, I didn't even touch the exhibits, I, I..." You followed their logic, playing your part.
"You think this isn't a problem?" She glared at you, her eyes seeming to see right through your face and into your heart.
"You've sold counterfeit goods, and that's not something you can just wash off the top of your head. You're standing right next to me; do you know what people think of you?"
You didn't dare say a word. You understood that even if she wasn't directly scolding you, her words were still like knives.
But it wasn't malicious, and it was very effective—the other staff finally stopped chasing you and just watched everything unfold.
She sighed: "...Never mind. It's good that you know you were wrong now. Now I'm asking you, do you want to leave here alive?"
You looked up and nodded.
"Then come with me." She immediately regained her composure, pulled you through the backstage area, and into the management corridor connecting to the main venue. "You, you're such a big kid... you need to clean yourself up, you know that?! We're going to find the organizers and Chairman Zhang."
She walked briskly, telling you as she went, "Ms. Zhang and I have a close personal relationship, and I still have a batch of goods she wanted. Old Wa is a straightforward person, but there are other members of the gang. If anyone can trace the root of this whole thing, it can only be them. But this matter is too big for you. If you don't explain clearly, you'll lose your life here."
You pursed your lips and nodded.
When you and your aunt stepped into the organizer's managed area, all the people chasing you in the exhibition hall—including the previously bizarre security guards, staff, and volunteers—seemed to suddenly "malfunction."
The lights shone on their faces, as if they had been forcibly put back into "display mode." One by one, they hesitated and stopped, only daring to look at you from afar, but not daring to get closer.
You took a deep breath and walked up to the official who was wearing a gray-blue business suit and whose hair was neatly tied up.
“Hello, I…I’d like to say a few words.” You lowered your head and stiffly handed over the USB drive. “I saw a batch of counterfeit products at the skincare booth…It’s the same product that I used to buy as a proxy a few years ago…but I don’t know how it ended up in the booth. I didn’t participate in the setup of this exhibition, and I don’t have any professional status.”
You took a breath and looked at her sincerely. "These are my transaction records. I did not participate in the counterfeit goods exhibition and sale. I... just want to clarify this matter."
The official's expression remained completely unchanged.
Just as she was about to speak, her aunt suddenly stopped her, smiling as she interjected, "Ms. Zhang and the others are very busy; let's not add to their troubles. The kids are young and don't know any better. They used to make a living online, but who knew they'd actually run into internal violations at the exhibition? We're here to cooperate with the investigation." (Rose's words)
As she spoke, she took out several documents from her bag and whispered something—you couldn't understand or hear it anyway.
You were led to the waiting area outside.
You sit on a bench, your palms sweaty, nervously place your phone on your lap, open a translation app, and record a few lines of their conversation.
"She made a mistake, but she's not a criminal..."
"...can compensate..."
The translation is inaccurate, and some words are vague, but you can vaguely hear the key words—your aunt is playing the emotional card and trying to mediate for you.
She's already "talking about money."
You don't know how to feel.
She's protecting you.
But it is precisely because she is protecting you that you understand even more clearly that this is definitely not the way a cunning copy would approve.
My aunt wasn't a high-ranking member of the exhibition; at most, she had some "connections." In reality, she was no different from the other ordinary exhibitors.
Why is she able to remain unchanged without being controlled or influenced?
This will only make you feel disheartened.
You pondered in silence for a long time, then opened the search bar and entered: "Black market purchasing agent to legitimate process" and "Legal way to make up for missed payments in cross-border transactions between Flower Country and Los Angeles".
The search results weren't numerous, but you saw several keywords: pay import taxes; issue a full refund or apology to the customer; report errors to foreign business agencies; be prohibited from opening overseas accounts again within the fixed month; and be required to provide proof of genuine product purchases for re-certification, etc.
As you click into the regulations of several e-commerce platforms in China and read the operating procedures of several cross-border payment and settlement systems, it becomes clearer and clearer: this is not something that can be whitewashed overnight, but it is certainly not "irreversible".
You're a little annoyed that you didn't do this before.
As it turns out, even you, even in this kind of dungeon, it's only human nature to have a侥幸心理 (a sense of luck or chance) and think that you can easily solve it later.
That's why some people will do things that break the rules without caring about the consequences before they actually bear them.
You turn to look at the conference room behind the glass. Your aunt's back is hunched over; she is fighting for you—against the "social" rules that still exist in the instance.
Just from the fact that your aunt didn't turn into a monster—even if it's because she still has the effect of "whitewashing" you, even if it's another trap: black market resellers are illegal, does suppressing such a big issue with money make it compliant?—you increasingly feel that this seemingly genuine protectiveness is creating an uncanny valley effect for you.
Dungeons can be really awful.
You finally opened your WeChat chat with your parents and told them what had happened. You expected to be met with a furious outburst, or even that the "person" on the other end of the phone might turn into some kind of phone ghost.
A few minutes later, they simply sent a message:
"Sigh...we knew you weren't up to any good."
You were speechless for a moment, but soon received a new message: "I told you not to mess around with these things. Since you want to fix it now, we'll help you put together some money."
Next came the bank account details, several screenshots of bank transfers, and even a compensation statement they had already prepared for you.
You stare at the screen, faced with this "touching" family affection, and you just feel... indescribable.
You knocked on the door and went inside.
My aunt was about to say something more when you interrupted her.
You tell the official, "I've made up my mind. I'll handle this myself. I've checked the procedures and arranged for the back taxes and refund. I'll try to make up for what happened before."
The aunt paused for a moment, her lips twitched, but she didn't say anything.
The official simply nodded, indicating that you should continue.
You turn around and look at Ms. Zhang.
“I know I’ve messed up this event. But I will take responsibility for being here.”
Light fell on you from the spotlight overhead. You didn't flinch. You knew that, from this moment on, your story had finally been washed away from the shadow of black market daigou (personal shopping agents).
You take a deep breath, unsure if you've made the right choice.
But this is also the most suitable direction you can think of, the direction that the scenario "guides" you in.
But what about your student status? Will you be deported?
You're starting to regret it.
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Author's Note: Hehe (The reason for the change is that after much thought, I still feel that the protagonist shouldn't develop feelings for the obviously strange "family" in the dungeon under these circumstances; that would be too inconsistent with the character's personality).
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