Fu Shijin didn’t find out about Mei Ran being targeted online until the next morning. The assistant in charge of managing his Weibo account had noticed it immediately but, considering his poor night-time sleep, hadn’t informed him right away.
However, the silence that emanated from the other end of the line felt like a frozen tundra, and the assistant vaguely sensed he might have made the wrong decision this time.
“I see.”
Sure enough, his voice was frigid almost to the point of freezing. Just as the assistant’s heart sank with anxiety, he heard Shijin add, “How long before you can identify the person spreading the rumors?”
He didn’t ask if it was possible; he simply asked for a timeframe.
The assistant wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced himself to answer clearly, “I’ll do my best to find out as soon as possible.”
Fu Shijin gave a light chuckle, though there wasn’t a trace of genuine mirth in his voice, like autumn frost lightly clinging to petals. He responded indifferently with a simple, “Mm.”
After hanging up, he opened Weibo and scrolled for a while, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter. After a moment’s thought, he dialed another number.
Ye Qihan had hosted a welcome-back dinner for a friend returned from abroad the previous night and stumbled home dead drunk in the small hours. The irritating ringtone sent a splitting pain through his skull. He was about to just hang up, but a glance at the caller ID instantly sobered him up a third of the way.
“What is it? So early in the morning…” He let out a big yawn, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear while rubbing his bleary eyes.
Shijin got straight to the point. “Mei Ran is being attacked online. It involves your side of the business. I want names.”
Ye Qihan literally sprang up from his bed. “Holy crap! Who has the balls to mess with this Young Master Ye’s goddess?!”
“Your goddess?”
“Hahaha…” The cool, unimpressed tone instantly made him backtrack. “Wrong word choice, wrong word choice… My idol.”
It had to be said, even Ye Qihan had once been captivated by that voice. It often worked this way—the more mysterious and elusive something was, the more it itched in your heart. Of course, for him, it was a purely innocent fondness.
Why would a fleeting voice make so many people remember her for seven years?
Beyond the many well-known music critics citing her as a rare gem they would yearly lament, beyond the deep devotion of countless MR fans, and perhaps more importantly, because she was the only artist ever recommended by the highly revered music figure Ansel…
There was an inexplicable attachment people held towards things they could not obtain.
“This shouldn’t be hard,” Ye Qihan thumped his chest, making a firm promise. “Leave it to me!”
Fu Shijin hung up the phone and stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window. Bright sunlight danced between his profound eyes and straight nose bridge. He thought for a long moment, then let out a soft sigh.
I wonder how she’s holding up?
In truth, the matter didn’t affect Mei Ran as much as one might expect. She went to work as usual, her face betraying no abnormality whatsoever.
She had always been clear about what was reality and what was illusory.
If anything really bothered her slightly, it was running into Zhou Yimiao in the conference room. Ever since yesterday’s confession, seeing this man again stirred an indescribable feeling in Mei Ran’s heart.
In contrast, Zhou Yimiao looked perfectly composed as he greeted her, acting as if yesterday’s events had merely been her hallucination.
Consequently, for once, Mei Ran found her mind wandering during the meeting. After it concluded and everyone had left, she gathered her things to head back to the Traditional Chinese Medicine Department. Suddenly, a tall shadow fell across her path.
She looked up, startled. “Senior Brother Zhou?”
Zhou Yimiao pulled out a chair and sat down beside her, folding his hands on the table. “Are you still bothered by yesterday?”
Mei Ran remained silent, her gaze revealing some awkwardness.
Zhou Yimiao gave an easy smile. “Seems you are.”
In truth, the palms of his folded hands were pressed tightly together, like two shivering little pigeons huddled for warmth in winter snow — a nervousness he didn’t want her to see.
He took a deep breath and turned to look at Mei Ran.
In her clear eyes, as limpid as a mountain lake, Zhou Yimiao suddenly felt all tension release. He had never been one to force things. Besides, how could he bear to make her feel the slightest bit troubled?
The corners of his lips curled upward in a gentle arc. “I’ve already lost out on one 'shopkeeper lady.' Surely you won’t let me lose a good junior apprentice as well?”
Mei Ran was a perceptive person and quickly grasped the subtle meaning in his words: From now on, he would step back into the role of a senior brother.
This was also the best possible outcome she could have imagined.
Such a person, both a teacher and a friend, she truly did not want to lose.
Returning to the office, her assistant Tiantian was just leaving for an exam. Before heading out, she gave Mei Ran a tight hug, murmuring fervently, “Begging the Study God to possess me, begging and begging!”
Mei Ran didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, patting her shoulder. “Relax, you’ve prepared well. You’ll definitely pass!”
Tiantian had always hero-worshipped her. Hearing this, her face immediately brightened like the sun after rain, showing a wide grin with a glimpse of little tiger teeth. “Thank you, Senior Sister! I feel instantly filled with confidence!”
The moment her assistant left, a patient arrived right after. Mei Ran started getting busy.
It was now autumn, the weather transitioning, and patients were more numerous than usual. She was swamped all morning, only having a moment to rest by lunchtime.
The cafeteria food was somewhat cold, and Mei Ran had little appetite, barely eating a few mouthfuls of white rice drenched with gravy.
In the afternoon, patients poured in like tide after tide. Combined with Tiantian being absent, she was so busy she barely had time to pause and catch her breath.
Without realizing it, dusk began to settle. Mei Ran saw off her last patient, then went back in to wash her hands and sat in the chair for a good while before heading home.
Just as she entered her residential compound, she received a call from Yu Sheng. This woman was rolling around on her bed clutching her stomach, her infectious, gleeful laughter echoing through the phone. “Hahahaha…! I was just about to flex some muscles and put in some work… and I haven’t even lifted a finger… This kills me…!”
Mei Ran hurriedly asked, “What on earth happened?”
But Yu Sheng teased mysteriously. “You’ll know when you go on Weibo in a bit. Ansel is seriously so awesome! I really want a guy like that too… Oh right, was it also him who settled the ‘malpractice claim’ thing for you last time?”
Mei Ran suddenly stopped in her tracks. On the other end, Yu Sheng was still playfully teasing her. “I’ve said so much; why don’t you react? Could it be you’re feeling shy?”
“Sheng Sheng,” Mei Ran said softly, her gaze fixed straight ahead on a tall, upright figure standing not far away beneath a streetlamp. “He’s right downstairs of my building right now.”
Yu Sheng let out a dramatic sigh. “Hanging up! Hanging up! Don’t you even think about broadcasting your lovestruck scene in real-time!”
She was absolutely not eating any dog food!
“What are you doing here?”
The man stood under the lamplight dressed in white shirt and black pants, one hand in his pocket, as handsome and straight as sturdy bamboo. Those slightly cool, profound eyes only lit up with a glimmer of a smile upon meeting hers, and then…
Mei Ran saw him slowly open his arms wide towards her.
Perhaps it was the effect of the bright moon or the brilliant streetlight, but his slender fingers seemed touched by a soft glow, each pale and translucent, as if exuding a peculiar pull.
She slowly walked closer to him.
When they were only two or three steps apart, the man suddenly leaned forward and gathered her into his embrace. The familiar scent washed over her nose, bringing an immense sense of security.
It was autumn, and the wind blowing in their faces was cool, but his chest was burning hot. Mei Ran couldn’t resist nestling her cheek against it, rubbing softly until even the last trace of lingering gloom within her heart instantly vanished without a trace.
“That time before… Was it you who helped me?”
A light, understated “Mm” drifted down from above her head.
So even that early on, he had…
Mei Ran asked again, “When did you recognize me?”
“What do you think?”
“The night you drove me home?”
The next instant, the tip of her nose was gently pinched. The man’s deep voice carried laughter, upon closer listen, tinged with a trace of regret. “If you hadn’t intentionally altered your voice in front of me, I could have recognized you that first time we met.”
Mei Ran smiled, looking up just as he also lowered his gaze. In the moment their eyes met, it felt as if a tender thread of light connected them, crackling with sparks.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes, and boldly took the initiative to kiss him. The handful of experiences she had were all learned from him, so naturally, her technique lacked finesse—moving back and forth from the center of his lips to their corners.
Fu Shijin tightened his arm around her waist and obligingly parted his lips. Her soft, slightly tentative tongue slipped inside, sweeping chaotically.
His breathing instantly turned ragged as he swiftly reclaimed control, pressing the woman in his arms against the lamp post. He raised her chin, entangling, teasing, and lightly nipping… teaching her patiently, piece by piece—with an unprecedented level of patience and a tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed.
The feeling at her back was slightly cool against the lamp post, but the parts pressed against him were solidly warm. Therefore, Mei Ran felt every wisp of sensory delight with remarkable clarity.
A long while later, she leaned on the man’s shoulder, breathing a little heavily. “Y-you… When…?”
She was stammering, but Fu Shijin understood her meaning immediately. Amusement filled the corners of his eyes as he lightly caressed the skin of her flushed cheek. “With the woman I love, that’s the most basic gesture of sincerity any man should show.”
Mei Ran’s earlobes turned scarlet instantly.
Fu Shijin adored her bashfulness so much that his chest shook slightly with quiet laughter. Glancing at the sky, he said, “It’s late. You should head up now.”
“Alright.”
Although reluctant, Mei Ran let go, only to be promptly pulled into a tight embrace again a moment later. She was startled for a split second.
A soft sigh escaped his lips. “Let’s hold on a little longer.”
Her heart felt so deeply filled by something warm and sweet that she nodded, a brilliant smile curving her lips.
Half an hour later, Mei Ran was sitting on the living room couch, repeatedly replaying the words he’d said before they parted, which made her face flush hot every single time.
From Yu Sheng’s remark, it wasn’t hard to guess that he must have done something else for her regarding the online affair, yet he hadn’t brought it up at all. He’d come all the way here, simply to hold her and comfort her.
Logging into Weibo, Mei Ran clicked directly on the ‘special follows’ tab and her eyes instantly froze.
He had reposted the smear tweet claiming that ‘youhaoqiangqiang’ (You think about it carefully) had undergone cosmetic surgery. The main post he wrote contained just the single word “Hmph” — unmistakably his signature style.
The fan comments underneath were wonderfully vibrant.
“Truly worthy of my male god! Even his clapback is clean and sharp!”
“My male god’s attitude says it all. Didn’t I say it? Would the woman my male god likes have gotten plastic surgery?! Are you freaking kidding me? Even if she did get it, so what? What’s wrong with cosmetic surgery nowadays? In this day and age, even sows can climb trees, okay? [Shrug emoji]”
Similarly, the original post also had lively commentary. But ever since Fu Shijin reposted it, the malicious smear-bot accounts had already fled in disarray. His true fans had now turned into righteous, self-initiated commenters flushing out the filth in that cesspit.
The top trending comment was one that appeared like a perfectly aligned military rank: “Forward count passed 500. I’m just here to light a candle for the OP. [Candle emoji]”
Shady Little Angel: Could smear campaigns really get so unprofessional these days? You say she got surgery, she got surgery? Where’s your evidence? Spoutin’ nonsense with no proof! Your parents must have forgotten to pack you a brain before delivering you. [Condescending smile emoji]
No Paradise: Usually, what kind of mouth one has, they dish out what kind of talk. OP, your mouth is so dirty, surely your looks must be horrifically ugly.
Even the official Weibo account, the “Fu Shijin Global Fan Club,” had made their stance clear: “What if she did get cosmetic surgery? Everyone has a love for beauty. As long as my male god likes her, it’s enough. —Fu Shijin.”
Mei Ran then clicked onto her own homepage. Compared to the barrage of ‘heartbroken’ and ‘disappointed’ comments before, her space now looked much cleaner. However, there were still two or three unfriendly remarks floating near the top:
“Ugly people stir up drama! Hmph, must’ve used a lot of tricks back in the day to get Fu Shijin’s attention, huh?”
Little Tiny Fruit Bait: You actually went and got surgery!? I never expected this from a ‘You think about it carefully’! [Angry emoji x3]
The rest, however, mostly showed fairly unanimous support for her:
“Male god has made his position clear! Stand strong, You haoqiangqiang. We won’t take the blame, we won’t carry that shame!”
“Don’t think too much, I believe in you anyway! Cheer up!”
It turned out that even beyond all that negativity online, there were still so many warm-hearted voices cheering her on. Touched, Mei Ran continued scrolling, until she saw a comment from an account ID called “Number One MR Braindead Fan.”
—You are unparalleled beauty in this world; you are the most beautiful song in my heart. I love you! Forever and Ever!
Mei Ran couldn’t help but chuckle. Opening that account’s private message box, she typed, “Sheng Sheng.”
An almost instantaneous reply popped up: “How did you know that was me?! [Shocked tear emoji]”
“Aside from you, who else would come up with such an exaggerated ID and say things that corny?”
“Alright. Are you two… done being lovey-dovey?”
Mei Ran glanced unnaturally at her empty surroundings, sending back an “Mm.”
Yu Sheng: “!!! Mei… Mei! You’ve changed! You used to be so innocent! It’s over, it’s over… You must have been corrupted by your man!”
Mei Ran somehow felt her heart instantly sweeten like she had eaten a dollop of honey when she saw those words “your man.”
Love was truly a curious thing. It could link two strangers and turn them into someone’s woman or someone’s man.
“Your grandpa’s birthday is next month, right? Thought of what to get him yet?”
Yu Sheng: “Could your change of topic be any more obvious? But yes, I’m fretting over that too. You have to come this time. The old master has been going on and on about you lately; I practically have earworms already!”
Their two families were old friends. Old Master Yu had watched Mei Ran grow up, doting on her as a dear granddaughter. Mei Ran’s own grandfather had passed away before she was born, and the missing affection from that generational gap had been compensated by this senior’s warmth. Therefore, she held the Old Master in particularly high regard.
“I’ll of course be there. And… I’ve already thought of what to gift him.”
“What? Tell me tell me!”
Mei Ran imitated her earlier secrecy. “I’m keeping it a secret for now.”
“Tch! So dramatic!”
They chatted for another good while until Yu Sheng couldn’t keep up anymore and headed to bed. Mei Ran held her phone, typing, deleting, and retyping several times before finally settling on her words and clicking the “Post” button.
youhaoqiangqiang (You think about it carefully): Used to think that behind the screen, being strangers, I was neither wounded by comments nor needed to explain anything to anyone. But my dad said that, as the daughter of the runner-up ‘Beauty of Binnan’ back in her day, I should have the courage to face any mudslinging that comes my way. For this incident, I will demand a clear outcome.
Before this, Mei Ran believed “the clear remain clear without explanation.” There was no need to explain. After all, so long as she wasn’t affected, no one could truly touch the real person behind the virtual ID of ‘youhaoqiangqiang.’ But things were different now. That man had silently done so much for her; at the very least, she should give him a matching response.
After posting the Weibo, she switched off her phone and headed to wash up for bed.
She slept dreamlessly the whole night.
The next morning, she slowly opened her eyes, lounging for a while longer before getting up to wash and dress.
The sun hung at the horizon like a fresh, sweet, and plump red persimmon. The pure blue sky was inlaid with two white clouds, looking from a distance like two white swans affectionately entwined, necks encircled. Moments later, the sunlight cast a faint blush glow onto their snowy plumage.
Nevertheless, such a beautiful, serene dawn dawned for certain people like a long, cold night of terror.
For example, for Xia Tiantian, Mei Mengran’s former assistant.
She was just about to head downstairs to buy breakfast when, right after stepping out her door, she was stopped by two police officers in uniform. A jumble of fragmented images flashed through her mind: the notification she’d received after eight o’clock last night about a deposit of one hundred thousand yuan appearing in her bank account…
Then, one idea began crystallizing into terrible clarity:
She’d been framed.