Reborn, I Became a Male God - 71-75

All the upheaval began because of one person.

 

She was the most stunning presence in Yang Feng’s memory—a girl of seventeen or eighteen, with long, smooth hair, a slender waist, and skin so tender it seemed made of water. What made her unforgettable to him wasn’t just her beauty, but the fact that she was his very first prey.

 

Using the natural advantage of a child, he called her “sister” again and again, handed her water laced with something extra, and easily brought down this girl who had no defenses against him. Driving an unremarkable, rundown vehicle, he brought home the most beautiful prey.

 

This time, his father didn’t share her like before. Except for Yang Feng, no one else even got a glance. She was kept locked inside their home, not the warehouse where they usually stored goods. She ate whatever the family ate, two meals a day.

 

Back then, Yang Feng thought his father was being very good to her. But she wasn’t content—she always tried to escape. Once, twice, three times… Every time she was caught and brought back, his father would beat her. But he always held back, afraid the injuries would be too serious, would leave marks. If they got tired of her, she still had to be sellable. To keep her from running again, he locked a cold, thick iron chain around her neck—just like an unruly dog.

 

After that, she never escaped again. The next year, her belly swelled. At the same time, she became obedient. She didn’t shout, didn’t resist, and even tried to please his father. Later, whenever Yang Feng thought of it, he always felt she was like a demon—and demons eat people.

 

During that time, it was like his father was possessed. Eventually, he even removed her chain. Freed from restraint, the beast didn’t hesitate to bite her master to death once the opportunity came.

 

His father was the master; that woman was the beast. She killed his father, drugged several dogs, and set fire to the village.

 

She was the first person in all those years to escape the village successfully. Not long after, she returned—not alone this time. With her came the police and angry parents.

 

The village was taken down overnight. Some of the uncles and older men were arrested; some were beaten to death on the spot by the furious parents. The “goods” that hadn’t yet been sold were rescued.

 

Yang Feng was among them and was taken away. But he was soon identified by the rescued victims. Thanks to the rule of law, children were not punished for the crimes of their families. Though he lost his father, his home, and everything else, he survived. No one wanted to adopt the child of a creature more disgusting than a sewer rat. Even after he entered an orphanage, the people there weren’t kind to him.

 

After enduring endless discrimination and abuse, he finally decided to run away. But before that, he left a big parting gift for those who treated him badly. 

Just like that ungrateful woman, he set everything ablaze with a single fire. At that time, DNA testing didn’t exist. The bodies were burned beyond recognition. Though one person was found to be missing, no one knew it was him.

 

This experience made him realize that society hated people like his father and the other men, and anyone associated with them would also be rejected. So after running away, he hid his past. He lingered around school gates, observing how those kids spoke, how they made themselves likable.

 

But to his disappointment, people didn’t like older kids with no clear origin either. He squatted near a school for over a year, surviving on charity and scraps from garbage bins. Eventually, his small body couldn’t fight off illness. He didn’t want to die like a rat in a stinking pile of trash, so he dragged his weakened body away—heading toward the school.

 

The sky was dark and drizzling. Just before he lost all consciousness, a tall figure appeared in front of him and bent down to pick him up.

 

It was a teacher from the school. He once had a happy family, but fate was cruel—his wife and child died in an accident. Yang Feng bore some resemblance to his deceased child, and he appeared at just the right time. In the end, he was lucky to be adopted.

 

Not only did he have enough to eat and wear, but being the adopted son of a teacher meant he didn’t fall far behind other kids despite starting school late. He was very smart—no doubt about it. He learned to deceive on his own, succeeded in his first con, the “gift” to the orphanage, the disguise, and learning—though it wasn’t the proper path.

 

“You’ve had a good life, haven’t you?” said the injured young man. “Then why did you still do all those things?”

 

Yang Feng replied, “It’s been good, but so what? Humans are greedy animals; they never know satisfaction. Do you know how much I hate those kids at school? And those girls… they always remind me of that woman—their eyebrows, their eyes, their noses… I had to fight really hard not to dig them out.”

 

“Why did you target the victims’ families?”

 

“They reminded me of those people in the county town, and the kids at the orphanage. I was a victim too, wasn’t I? My father, my uncles—they’re all dead. Just because they did wrong, I don’t deserve pity like others? I only get hatred, disgust, and abuse?”

 

“I’ve always known that a psychotic murderer doesn’t deserve to be called human. There’s no justification that can ever earn forgiveness. Still, you disgust me.”

 

“Is that so? Then…” Halfway through his sentence, Yang Feng flicked the stick he had inserted into the fire. Glowing embers flew toward the two people across from him. At the same time, he raised his arm, equipped with a hand crossbow, and fired at the slightly older young man.

 

To him, the injured one was no threat. As for the other—at such a close distance, even if he didn’t die, he’d lose half his life. Probably some trashy cops had put up a bounty, and they came for money. Just happened to stumble on him. Two naïve fools—thinking numbers would help them take him down.

 

But unexpectedly, the two of them seemed to have anticipated his move. The moment he acted, they dodged. The embers hit the ground, and the crossbow bolt was caught barehanded. The one who caught it was only slightly injured—just a scrape, with bl00d oozing from the palm.

 

Yang Feng froze for just a moment before realizing these two were no pushovers. Instinctively, he turned and ran.

 

They didn’t stop him. Just as he was about to exit the cave, the injured young man’s voice came from behind.

 

“Let’s play hide-and-seek. You get a half-hour head start. Hide anywhere you like in this forest. But if I find you, you’ll have to leave something behind. There’s no time limit—either you collapse, or I get bored. Until then, the game won’t end. Sound good?”

 

Yang Feng didn’t stop running, but he couldn’t resist taunting back, “Bring it on! Who’s afraid of who? You think you’re hot sh1t just ’cause you got lucky and found me? The vast expanse of the Changchu Ridge Mountains, with the night as my shield—even if you gave me ten minutes, let alone thirty, I’d vanish without a trace!”

 

 

Chapter 72

 

 

What is the night like in the dense forest? The tall and densely packed trees stretched out their branches and lush green leaves, almost entirely blocking the moonlight from the sky. With this sole source of light gone, all one could see was boundless darkness, where even an outstretched hand would be invisible.

 

The night wind blew in from all directions. The fine branches at the treetops swayed and danced, and the leaves rustled.

 

After escaping from the cave, Yang Feng plunged into the darkness. Before deciding to spend the night in the cave, he had already scouted the surrounding terrain and prepared an escape route in advance. However, the escape he had anticipated at the time was from wild beasts in the forest—he hadn’t expected the situation to develop in such an unforeseen way. Not a single beast had shown up; instead, he had been found by people.

 

Fortunately, it was just two brainless fools who mistook sheer luck for actual skill and foolishly tried to make him their prey.

 

Dream on!

 

If those two idiots hadn’t had some skill of their own and managed to dodge the burning coals and crossbow bolts, he could have dealt with them one by one, adding some amusement to his journey. There was still rope in his backpack—enough to tie them up. When he was fiddling with the campfire earlier, he suddenly thought of the ancient torture device called “paoluo.” 

 

(Executioners burn their victim to death by tying his naked body to the heated paoluo pillar.)

 

Although he didn’t have specialized instruments now, he could still place a spoon in the burning coals until it turned a beautiful red, then have it kiss their tender skin. Just imagining the sizzle and the wisp of smoke rising at the moment of contact… That curling smoke must surely carry the scent of roast meat…

 

A savage smile appeared on Yang Feng’s face, though no one could see it in the darkness.

 

Following the direction from memory, he quickly ran beyond the area he had scouted earlier. Everything behind him was silent. Those two fools really hadn’t pursued him. He relaxed and slowed his pace, changed direction, and moved forward by touch.

 

But as he walked, something began to feel wrong.

 

The mountain forests of Changchu Ridge stretched endlessly and were well preserved, with a rich variety of insects, birds, and animals. Night was when they were most active. Yet now, he could barely hear a single birdcall or insect chirp. Just last night, when he slept in a tree, he had fallen asleep to the sounds of chirping and buzzing.

 

What had happened in just a few short hours? Or had he entered a special area? But based on what he knew, this section clearly wasn’t deep into Changchu Ridge yet.

 

Yang Feng proceeded cautiously. After walking a bit farther and estimating he was well away from the cave, he finally stopped. During the escape, he had instinctively taken his backpack. To be safe, he always kept the most important things within reach. Inside the backpack was a flashlight, but he hadn’t used it earlier to avoid revealing his location—any light in the darkness would stand out like a beacon, silently screaming, “I’m here, come catch me.”

 

Now without the natural shelter of the cave, he could only spend the night in a tree like the night before. He half-covered the flashlight’s head with his palm to prevent the light from spreading too far, swept it briefly around, then used his excellent memory to recall the surrounding terrain and features. He finally chose a suitable tree, climbed up, and hid his body between the branches and trunk, lurking like a hunter, focusing on the sounds around him.

 

Not long after demon left, an owl flapped its wings and flew into the cave, circled once overhead, then landed squarely on Jing Ling’s shoulder.

 

“He ran, he ran! Two-leg, your prey ran away!”

 

It was even more anxious than Jing Ling.

 

“We’re playing a game of hide-and-seek, so let him hide first. Can I trouble you to follow him for me, Xiao Yi?” Jing Ling said with a smile.

 

“Okay okay! I like games too!”

 

The little owl got excited and, after agreeing, flapped its wings and flew off.

 

A few minutes later, another one flew over. In Song Xiuyuan’s eyes, this was the same owl from earlier, but Jing Ling called it Dumb-feather. Looking closely, it was true—it had a silly-looking tuft of feather on its head.

 

“Be good, Dumb-feather, don’t be scared. Little Grey won’t eat you. I haven’t forgotten the little house I promised you, I’ll come install it in a couple days. Alright, I’m off to find Little Grey and Little Flower. The game won’t be fun without them.”

 

The owl named Dumb-feather perched on Jing Ling’s shoulder and followed them as they set off together.

 

On the way, Song Xiuyuan asked, “Who are Little Grey and Little Flower?”

 

“A snake and a tiger,” Jing Ling replied.

 

Song Xiuyuan didn’t think much about the snake, but when he heard “tiger,” a thought struck him. “Is it that South China tiger discovered last year?”

 

Jing Ling nodded. “Mm.”

 

The Song family didn’t just have money—they also had power. This time, since Song Xiuyuan expected to spend the night in the forest, he brought a military-grade night vision goggle. He only brought one because he hadn’t expected to have a companion. At first, he was worried Jing Ling would have trouble navigating, but he quickly found Jing Ling moved as easily as in daylight. Though puzzled, he was reassured.

 

The two passed about seven or eight meters from where demon was hiding. Their footsteps on the dead leaves made barely a sound. After walking for about half an hour, Jing Ling suddenly stopped.

 

“Little Grey, don’t be nervous, it’s a friend.”

 

Following his gaze, Song Xiuyuan saw a huge head suddenly rise from a nearby pond, flicking its tongue with a hissing sound.

 

Yang Feng had started out cautiously, but as time passed, he gradually relaxed. In such a vast forest, looking for one person—especially on a night so dark you couldn’t see your hand—it would be a miracle to find him. Just as he thought this, a chilling screech rang out above him. It was the sound of an owl, eerily resembling laughter. He remembered his father telling him when he was a child that hearing an owl’s cry meant someone was going to die. When the only old man in their village died, he had heard owls for days. And the night his father died, too.

 

Though he later learned in school that such beliefs were mere superstition with no scientific basis, he still hated the sound of owls.

 

“Just wait till morning. I’ll catch you, gut you, pluck you bald and roast you over a fire!” he growled through gritted teeth.

 

The owl continued to call, its cry growing eerier.

 

The forest wind picked up. Tree branches began to sway wildly. From the shrubs nearby came a rustling sound, getting louder and closer.

 

Yang Feng knew this wasn’t just the wind. Judging by the sound, it had to be a large wild animal. What could it be? A wild boar? A bear? Or a tiger? After all, last year’s news had been full of reports of a wild South China tiger in Changchu Ridge.

 

But the sound stopped just a few meters away from him.

 

Was it his imagination? He felt a strong, indescribable stench in the air.

 

“Hiss… hiss hiss…” Strange sounds came from nearby, and the stench grew stronger.

 

It was the sound of a snake flicking its tongue. Yang Feng wasn’t afraid of snakes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of being bitten. This was a dangerous time in a remote mountain forest—if he got bitten by a venomous snake, his life would likely end here. Thinking this, he could no longer worry about the light giving away his position and turned on the flashlight toward the source of the sound.

 

Almost the moment he saw what was in front of him, his bl00d seemed to freeze.

 

Everyone’s seen snakes. Their eyes are tiny—usually about the size of mung beans. Snake eyes are typically vertical pupils, but so small that unless zoomed in, you can’t even see them clearly.

 

Under the flashlight beam, the first thing he saw was a huge vertical pupil, as big as an adult’s fist, gleaming green. Around the eye were dense, fine scales. It took him a long time to realize what it was.

 

A snake.

 

A giant python, far beyond imagination.

 

It raised its body, lifting its head several meters off the ground, and silently stared at him in the darkness.

 

“Got you!” A voice suddenly rang out from above. A dark figure dropped down and subdued him. His arms were seized and twisted behind his back. A hand groped at his wrist, and in moments, the crossbow he wore was removed.

 

“Almost forgot about this thing. You can’t bring such dangerous stuff to a simple game of hide-and-seek.”

 

It was the older of the two young men from the cave.

 

During the scuffle, his flashlight fell to the base of the tree, buried in fallen leaves. Its beam was mostly obscured. The giant head and terrifying vertical pupil instantly vanished into the darkness, making Yang Feng feel as if everything had been a bizarre dream. How could a snake that size even exist? It defied all science.

 

“You lost. According to the rules, you must leave something behind,” came another voice from beneath the tree. “Let me think… what should you leave? A hand? A foot? No, no, then you couldn’t play anymore. How about just a finger? To avoid you bleeding to death, I won’t insist on cutting it off—just a break will do.”

 

As soon as the words fell, the person holding his hands found his left pinky, grabbed it, and snapped it back forcefully.

 

“Ah—!” Yang Feng screamed in agony. Then he was lifted by his collar and thrown down from the tree.

 

The flashlight turned on again. Around him were only bushes and tall trees—dense and towering. The giant snake was gone, but now every shadow looked like a snake to him.

 

“The game continues. This time, you get twenty minutes to hide,” said the wounded young man, then tossed the flashlight beside him.

 

“What’s wrong? Already giving up? Don’t want to play anymore? Are you really willing to be caught, handcuffed, dragged to court, and sentenced to death?”

 

“No!” I don’t want to die!

 

Yang Feng grabbed the flashlight, turned, and ran in the opposite direction, diving into the dense forest.

 

“Got you!” That sentence became like a curse—always coming to his ears soon after the game began again. Accompanied by the eerie cry of an owl, the monstrous creature always showed just the tip of the iceberg, while the fear it brought only grew.

 

All five fingers on his left hand had been broken. Then they gave him a knife and let him choose where to leave his next mark. Drawn by the scent of bl00d, a pack of wolves surrounded him, licking his bleeding wounds. He could even feel their sharp teeth testing his skin, though none bit down in the end.

 

Screams echoed through the forest. By the time two undercover armed police followed the sounds and found him, Yang Feng was already on the verge of collapse. When he saw them, he practically crawled over and pleaded incoherently, “Snake! A big snake! Call the police! Help… help me!”

 

 

Chapter 73

 

 

Big Mouth and Watermelon didn’t recognize the panic-stricken man in front of them as their mission target at first, because the man looked far too disheveled. His hair was soaked with sweat and plastered messily to his forehead. His clothes were tattered, with one sleeve long and the other short; the tear at the short sleeve was ragged, as if something had ripped it off. His left forearm was a bloody mess—fresh bl00d had congealed into black clots stuck to the surface, and the wounds from blades and sharp fangs were barely distinguishable. Further down, the five fingers on his left hand were twisted unnaturally—clearly all broken.

 

“Mister, what happened to you?” Big Mouth reached out to help him up.

 

“Big snake! Monster!” the man shrieked, suddenly leaping up from the ground and hiding behind Big Mouth, his body trembling uncontrollably.

 

Almost as if to confirm his words, a rustling came from the dense vegetation nearby—something was approaching. Big Mouth and Watermelon immediately became alert, drew their weapons, released the safeties, and aimed in the direction of the sound.

 

“Don’t panic, it’s us.” A voice rang out before the people even arrived. It was their teammates who had acted without authorization and been scolded all night. Even though the voice was familiar, Big Mouth and Watermelon didn’t lower their guard until the two emerged from the underbrush.

 

“What the hell happened with you two?” Watermelon asked harshly, his expression icy.

 

“Didn’t we leave a message saying we were out for a night stroll? We just happened to run into the target while walking and brought him back.”

 

Big Mouth and Watermelon froze for a moment at that, then their voices shot up several decibels.

 

“This is demon?!”

 

“He’s our target?!”

 

“Yeah. When we found him, he was still wearing the same jacket as in that photo.”

 

They had entered Changchu Ridge with a clear objective. Now that the target had been located, it was time to leave—this wasn’t some outdoor adventure, and there was no reason to spend another night in the woods. Besides, it was already past 4 a.m., nearly 5.

 

By the time they emerged from the dense forest and regrouped with Ling Hu, the sky was already turning pale.

 

“What happened?” Ling Hu frowned slightly upon seeing demon’s injuries.

 

Big Mouth gave a displeased glance at the two people sitting on the hood of the car chatting and snorted coldly. “Who knows what the hell they did.”

 

“Should we treat him?” Ling Hu asked again.

 

“No need. He won’t die anyway!” Watermelon cut in.

 

“Perfect, I was thinking the same.” Ling Hu replied.

 

No one had much sympathy for such a depraved, psychotic serial killer. Big Mouth and Watermelon shoved him into the back seat, sitting on either side to guard against any attempts to jump out mid-ride. Ling Hu contacted their superior to report in. Then the phone was handed to Big Mouth and Watermelon, who truthfully reported everything that had happened—abnormal bird activity in the woods, the two acting without orders, etc.

 

Then the phone was passed again—this time to Jing Ling.

 

Big Mouth wasn’t an all-purpose babysitter like Shen Ze, and had no patience to hold the phone for him, so Jing Ling tilted his head and wedged the phone between his shoulder and head.

 

“You and Song Xiuyuan—what the hell did you two bastards do?!” came Xu Shaohuai’s furious roar from the other end of the line.

 

Jing Ling was entirely unconcerned, replying casually, “We’re law-abiding citizens, we didn’t do anything. Just a misunderstanding.”

 

“Misunderstanding?” Xu Shaohuai laughed in disbelief. “Then explain to me how demon ended up with all those injuries? Taking justice into your own hands is illegal! Don’t tell me you didn’t know that!”

 

“Of course I know,” Jing Ling said. “But we really didn’t do anything. Just played a game of hide-and-seek with him. The stakes were a bit unusual, sure, but it was consensual. A few broken fingers, no big deal. As for the rest of the wounds, I swear to God he did that to himself—it has nothing to do with us.”

 

“Oh right, Officer Xu, remember to reimburse me for the expenses from this mission.”

 

Xu Shaohuai asked, “What expenses?”

 

“I promised to buy houses for our informants. Not a lot, about 1,000 units should do. As for a few public-spirited volunteers—they don’t want money or homes, just treat them to two meals.”


(The “informants” referred to were the birds in the forest; the “public-spirited volunteers” were Little Grey, Little Flower, and the wolf pack.)

 

Though he hadn’t seen it himself, Xu Shaohuai had already gotten a good picture of the situation from Big Mouth and Watermelon’s report. Technically, necessary mission-related expenses could be reimbursed—but 1,000 homes? That was just extorting him out in the open!

 

Xu Shaohuai was livid, grinding his teeth, but had no choice. He grunted, “How much?”

 

Jing Ling smiled, “I’ll need to ask around first to get a real figure. It’s not just material costs—we need labor too. And no one’s going to willingly run to Changchu Ridge for this, so I’ll be counting on Officer Xu to find us some manpower.”

 

Xu Shaohuai took a deep breath. “Get lost!”

 

Though he was furious, in the end he still helped Jing Ling handle the matter—recruiting strong young men from the military unit stationed at Changchu Ridge. They brought tools and installed birdhouses all over the mountains. During construction, birds constantly circled around, chirping as if they knew the houses were for them. Some even dared to land on the soldiers. The soldiers had been told in advance not to harm the little creatures, so they let them do as they pleased.

 

The infamous demon serial killer case that had once shocked the nation resurfaced after 15 years, when the suspect reappeared and committed two more murders before fleeing into the Changchu Ridge mountain range. He was eventually captured by the Qin City police.

 

Once the news broke, it instantly made headlines across major media outlets.

But that had little to do with Jing Ling. After returning from Changchu Ridge, he was dragged to the hospital by Shen Ze to confirm his injuries were healing well, then immediately taken home.

 

After a night of chaos in the mountains, Jing Ling was exhausted. As soon as he got home, he collapsed onto the sofa, closed his eyes, and was ready to sleep.

 

Shen Ze looked down at him from above. “Remember what you promised me?”

 

Jing Ling cracked one eyelid open. “What?”

 

Shen Ze was nearly fuming at his nonchalant attitude. “Jing Ling!”

 

“Alright, alright, I’m done teasing. You’re talking about the variety show, right? You already picked one?”

 

“Can you stop infuriating me for once?!” Shen Ze felt like he must have been possessed to agree to manage this troublemaker in the first place. Jing Ling never played by the rules—life with him was all shock and no joy! And this bastard always used him for laughs!

 

So frustrating! So, so frustrating!

 

Shen Ze had selected two reality shows for Jing Ling. One was A Day with My Idol, the other Wilderness Adventure. The former focused on daily interactions between idols and their fans, while the latter was a wilderness survival show. It didn’t take much to guess which one was easier. Originally, he intended to let Jing Ling choose, but now he decided to revoke that right.

 

“It’s settled. You’re doing the large-scale nature exploration reality show Wilderness Adventure. Season 2 will air during the Friday prime time slot on Yongzhou TV. The crew will arrive at Coconut Island—one of Jiang City’s Twelve Islands—on August 20. There’ll be about half a month of prep, and filming will begin around mid-September.”

 

Jing Ling nodded. “No problem.”

 

He spoke with his eyes still closed. His long lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes. At eighteen, he was in his prime youth, his face still full of collagen and skin enviably flawless. He was extremely handsome, and when asleep, gave off a surprisingly gentle and quiet impression.

 

Shen Ze suddenly softened a bit and sighed. “Forget it. You’ll do A Day with My Idol instead.”

 

Jing Ling’s first movie was a survival game set on a deserted island, and the second season of Wilderness Adventure just happened to be filmed on one of Jiang City’s Twelve Islands. The wilderness survival theme overlapped a bit with the movie. The show was imported from abroad, where it had massive popularity—performing well on it could easily win over fans. Of course, A Day with My Idol was also hugely popular domestically, and several young idols had risen to fame thanks to it. With Jing Ling’s god-tier looks, as long as he didn’t self-destruct, stardom was basically guaranteed.

 

But there was one problem—variety shows like this usually attracted mostly girlfriend-type fans, and Jing Ling had a girlfriend. If that relationship were exposed later, backlash was likely.

 

So Shen Ze leaned more toward Wilderness Adventure. But that had its own risks—namely, Jing Ling’s injuries. Although the doctor said he was recovering well and would be fine by the time filming began, Shen Ze still wasn’t reassured. Jing Ling was only eighteen. He had a long acting career ahead, and there was no need to rush—better to advance steadily.

 

Between two evils, choose the lesser. Fan backlash or worsened injuries—Shen Ze would rather deal with the former.

 

Jing Ling asked, “A Day with My Idol—is it the kind where fans interact with the idol?”

 

Shen Ze nodded. “Yes.”

 

Jing Ling opened his eyes slightly. “How are the fans chosen? Open registration and then a random draw?”

 

Shen Ze nodded again. “Yes.”

 

“Can there be… manipulation?”

 

Shen Ze suddenly had a bad feeling. “What are you planning?”

 

 

Chapter 74

 

 

A bad premonition always comes true quickly.

 

Sure enough, just as he finished speaking, the previously laid-back Jing Ling suddenly sat up.

 


“If it can be rigged, then I’ll let Yunshu sign up. Otherwise, if I’m too nice to other girls, what if she gets jealous?”

 

Calm down! Calm down!

 

Shen Ze told himself this and took a deep breath to suppress the anger in his heart. But it was useless. His surging rage was like a volcano erupting—completely uncontrollable. He stretched out his hand, pointed toward the door, and roared, “Jing Ling, get as far away from me as you can!”


If he ever felt sorry for this bastard again, he might as well write his own name backward!

 

Jing Ling looked at him and suddenly tilted his head.

 


“A-Ze…” he dragged out the ending softly.

 

Shen Ze ground his teeth.


“Get out! There’s no room for negotiation!”

 

But Jing Ling didn’t play by the rules at all.


“My ear’s itchy behind the back… I can’t reach it.”

 

“…Where?” Shen Ze immediately lost his temper, talking as he walked over.

 

“Left side… no, not there… a little higher… nope, lower… mm, right there.”

 

For a brief moment, Shen Ze felt like he was getting a taste of life as a stay-at-home dad with a difficult kid—a truly outrageous child with a sky-high mischief rating. And yet, this “kid” had an angelic face that made Shen Ze itch with the urge to give him a good beating to vent his anger. But the moment he met those eyes and that face, all his fury vanished like the wind, leaving no trace behind.

 

“A-Ze.”

 

“Speak.”

 

“Can that variety show be rigged?”

 

“…Yes.”

 

“Then I’ll let Yunshu sign up.”

 

“…Mm.”

 

“Honestly, don’t you actually hope I’ll go on Wilderness Adventure instead?”

 

The answer was yes.

 


Although both were extremely popular reality shows, great for gaining exposure and fans, A Day with My Idol—as its name suggested—was clearly an idol-centered program. A few of the fresh-faced young idols who came out of it did become overnight sensations, but that kind of popularity was unstable. A real-world textbook example: an idol who debuted two years ago seemed to have a bright future with constant brand endorsements and filming opportunities. But at the beginning of last year, after his relationship was exposed, not only did a large number of fans leave him, some even turned against him. On top of that, his rivals took the opportunity to stomp on him, and within less than a year, he faded into oblivion—his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.

 

On the other hand, Wilderness Adventure was also a reality show but had huge international popularity. The producers had conducted research, and big data showed that its viewers spanned a wide age range—not just young people, but plenty of middle-aged viewers too. The gender ratio was also well-balanced. Though the format changed slightly upon entering the domestic market, compared to A Day with My Idol, it had a much broader appeal.

 

Although Shen Ze didn’t believe that one variety show could determine Jing Ling’s acting career, given a better choice, who would settle for second best?

 

But all this depended on one premise: that Jing Ling wasn’t injured.

 

So, “You’re overthinking it. With how lazy you are, I’d be thankful if you were even willing to participate,” he said blandly, not forgetting to mock Jing Ling.

 

Jing Ling shot back defiantly, “Can’t you imagine me joining both? A life without dreams is no different from a salted fish!”

 

Shen “Salted Fish” Ze:


“…Get lost!”

 

The filming schedules for the two shows happened to be perfectly staggered, and their airing times and target audiences didn’t overlap, so it was totally fine for Jing Ling to take part in both.

 

The next episode of A Day with My Idol was scheduled to start filming in early August. This episode featured, in addition to the two regular teams, three guests: Jing Ling, Yu Leyang, and a girl named He Lan, a singer by background. What was interesting was that He Lan and Yu Leyang had once been rumored to be romantically involved, and their respective fanbases had fought over it for quite some time. And Yu Leyang and Jing Ling could also be considered rivals—during the hit run of Deserted Island, their fans had clashed as well. The press releases from Yu Leyang’s team had aggressively stepped on Jing Ling’s name.

 

The production team’s intent was glaringly obvious—they wanted drama, and drama brought buzz.

 

This episode’s filming location was in Baiyun City, Pingzhou, Eastern Administrative District. Jing Ling arrived at the set at noon the day before filming began, while Yu Leyang and He Lan both arrived that night.

 

The next morning, the show began. The show had several segments; the first was finding a partner. The location was Fuxing Cat Town Plaza on Huayue 2nd Street in Baiyun City. The three regular teams were made up of both men and women and could freely form “CPs.” The partners for the three guest celebrities were selected by the production team from fans who had applied, but their identities weren’t revealed in advance. The guests had to find them on their own. Given how vague the clues were and the fact that staff sometimes pretended to be the partners, almost every episode had guests mistakenly identifying the wrong person during this segment.

 

Jing Ling’s clue was: Bus Route 612, long hair, green backpack.

 


Yu Leyang’s was: elevator, short hair, Moki drink.

 


Since He Lan was a girl, the show was kinder to her. Her clue was: sunny t-shirt, 1.8 meters tall, in the plaza.

 

As the first segment started, the filming team split into three groups to follow the guests.

 


Yu Leyang headed straight into the mall.

 


He Lan sat right in the center of the plaza, scanning all directions for her target.

 


Jing Ling went to the bus stop.

 

There was a bus stop at the entrance of Cat Town, and another one 30 meters to the right on the opposite side of the street. He walked over to check the sign. Sure enough, Bus Route 612 passed through here.

 

Although the partner could be pre-arranged, almost no one would choose someone they were familiar with—it would be too easy to reveal in subtle ways. Usually, the guests just picked someone suitable from the fans. That meant the guests and fans weren’t familiar with each other, which was why people often misidentified their partners. To protect the privacy of fans (who were not celebrities), the show used aliases and disguises during filming.

 

Because Jing Ling had disguised himself well in the past, no one had ever been able to photograph him, let alone know about his relationship with Yunshu. In other words, the showrunners would never guess that he’d gone so far as to sneak his girlfriend into the program.

 

He scanned the area near the bus stop but didn’t see Yunshu. Just as he was about to cross the street to the other side, he turned and saw a pair walking toward him from the left—a man and a woman, chatting and laughing like a couple. They stopped at the bus stop, clearly waiting for the bus.

 

Jing Ling felt like a flock of crows had flown over his head.

 


Before coming here, he’d watched a few episodes as prep. Usually, in this segment, the production team just had staff members wear similar clothes to confuse the targets. But this time, they went all out and had a male staff member pose as Yunshu’s boyfriend to throw him off.

 


Yes, the woman who had just walked over was Yunshu. Long hair, green backpack, Bus Route 612—all three clues matched. But now they added a fake boyfriend as a decoy. If someone didn’t know her well, they’d definitely be fooled.

 

Luckily, Jing Ling didn’t plan to recognize her immediately. After a quick glance, he looked away. He had intended to cross the street, but now he stayed put to wait for the bus. After all, the 612 bus was his clue, so waiting was normal.

 

As for Yunshu and her fake boyfriend—they stood there for five minutes without saying much. Fake was fake.

 

The 612 bus pulled up and opened its doors. A few people got off, one of them a girl with long hair and a green backpack.

 

Bingo. You’ll be my first mistaken identity. Jing Ling thought and walked over to greet her.


“Hi, A-Tan!”

 

The girl walked right past him.

 

Jing Ling showed an awkward expression. Then laughter came through his earpiece from the production team, and he cooperatively covered his face with his hand and laughed along.

 

A good actor is always ready to act.

 

The bus doors closed, and it pulled away to the next stop. At that moment, a girl at the rear of the bus suddenly looked panicked. She pointed back at the stop and then looked toward the driver. The bus had only gone a few meters before it stopped again and reopened its doors. The girl jumped off and shouted, “Thief! Stop!”

 

Jing Ling followed her line of sight and saw a casually dressed young man suddenly break into a run.

 

The girl chased after him too, but she was wearing high heels and clearly struggled to keep up. As she ran, she shouted, “Stop the thief!”


As she passed Jing Ling, she twisted her ankle and was about to fall. Jing Ling, who had planned to chase the thief himself, halted his step and reached out to steady her.

 

The girl winced in pain but still remembered to catch the thief.


“My wallet!”

 

“Don’t worry. Sit down first. I’ll help you chase him.” Jing Ling helped her sit on a nearby bench before running after the thief.

 

The delay meant the thief had already gotten quite far and was about to turn down a nearby alley.

 

The cameraman hadn’t expected such a surprise event, but he kept filming, capturing everything faithfully. When the guest suddenly dashed off, he hesitated a moment, then hoisted his equipment and followed.

 

The production team quickly caught on. After a moment of surprise, they realized this could become a highlight, so they immediately contacted the cameraman to make sure not to lose him—and to keep filming.

 

Listening to instructions in his earpiece, the cameraman looked at the figure running further ahead and replied while running, “Roger!”

 

 

Chapter 75

 

 

The name Baiyun (White Cloud) City sounds beautiful, but in reality, it’s a city notorious across the country for its thieves. The teams of pickpockets here are not only numerous but also extremely rampant. Wherever there’s a crowd, there’s bound to be a thief—and often not just one.

 

Logically speaking, although crowded places make it easier to commit crimes, they also increase the chances of being discovered. Of course, not by the victim, but by the people around—after all, there are so many eyes. However, many people who witness such acts choose to pretend nothing happened. This phenomenon isn’t unique to Baiyun City—it’s common throughout the country. People often criticize this materialistic society, lamenting the growing indifference of human hearts.

 

But actually, it’s not that people are unwilling to act bravely—it’s that they’re afraid. Besides the elderly, the young, the sick, and the disabled, girls are also a vulnerable group. Take Baiyun City for example—many thieves here operate in gangs. On a single bus, there could be more than one thief. After trying to stop them, there’s a risk of being remembered and followed for revenge. As for tall and strong men, unless they catch the thief on the spot, they don’t dare to chase them too far either—who knows if the thief has backup. Incidents like this happen frequently. Over time, people stop daring to be too enthusiastic.

 

And the one Jing Ling was chasing was exactly one such case. Although there weren’t any accomplices on the bus, there was someone waiting outside. You could tell from how the thief didn’t run into the crowd, but instead turned into a secluded alley. The more direct evidence was hearing the thief on the phone, calling for backup.

 

But for Jing Ling, it didn’t matter whether there were accomplices or not. At most, it was just a few petty crooks—even together, they were no match.

 

He chased the thief into the alley, taking several turns before reaching a dead end. Tall buildings blocked the path forward. Three casually dressed youths with sloppy attitudes stood there. The thief being chased was bent over, hands on knees, panting against the wall. Footsteps came from behind, and when he looked back, two more people arrived, one in front and one behind, blocking off the alley.

 

“Quite a lot of accomplices,” Jing Ling said.

 

“Chase me, huh?! You fucking keep chasing!” the thief gasped, gnashing his teeth. “Today I’ll teach you that meddling isn’t so easy! Beat him!”

 

As the words fell, the others swarmed in. Just as Jing Ling had guessed, they were all untrained thugs, swinging fists and kicking legs without any technique, full of openings. They relied on numbers to bully ordinary people. To Jing Ling, their movements were not only slow but weak—he couldn’t feel any strength behind them. Even if he didn’t dodge, being hit by them wouldn’t hurt much. After all, he was someone who could take a broken bone without flinching.

 

But just because it didn’t hurt didn’t mean he didn’t mind being hit. Even if no one was watching, getting hit by this kind of trash was still embarrassing.

 

Easily dodging the punch that came at him, he grabbed the attacker’s wrist with his left hand, pressed down on the shoulder with his right, and pushed the man downward. The attacker instinctively leaned forward, and Jing Ling followed through—lifting his left hand and pulling back with his right, he dislocated the man’s arm.

 

“Ah—!” A scream of agony.

 

An attack came from behind. Jing Ling tilted his head to dodge, grabbed the attacker’s arm, used his shoulder as a pivot, and threw him over hard onto the ground. As the man fell, he bumped into his teammate ahead, who got kicked in the face and reflexively clutched his face, screaming.

 

“Oww!”

 

“Ah—!”

 

Next came a kick from the side. Jing Ling lifted his leg to block it, then kicked out with his long leg. The person was sent flying, crashing into the wall behind with a dull thud, then sliding down to the ground.

 

“Ahhh—!” Another scream.

 

In the blink of an eye, four out of the seven were down. Three lay on the ground groaning and writhing, one clutched his face with tears welling up. The other two, who moved slower, saw what was happening and realized something was wrong, but couldn’t react fast enough. They charged forward only to be sent flying by one kick each from Jing Ling, straight into the wall.

 

Thus, the groaning group grew by two more.

 

Only the thief was left, still in that bent-over pose, frozen in place.

 

He couldn’t understand it. It had been just a normal theft like any other. Sure, his luck was bad and the victim noticed in time, but the guy shouldn’t have been able to catch up. Theoretically, he could’ve escaped easily. Who would’ve expected some lunatic to come out of nowhere, not only chasing him with reckless zeal but also insanely fast—closing the distance without ever falling behind. Was this guy from a sports academy or something?!

 

But so what? Even ants can bite an elephant to death, and a mob can beat a master to the ground. He’d dealt with enough naïve brats who were tall but inexperienced, not yet out of school and clueless about the dangers of the world.

 

He called some buddies while running, told them to wait at the usual spot.

 

Everything went as planned—the dumbass followed him into the alley, right into the trap. His brothers surrounded him, cutting off all escape.

 

And then… life turned into a drama. The male lead bravely caught the thief, 1v5, crushing the opposition with ease and not a scratch on himself. And in such a secluded spot, there just happened to be someone with a camera, catching the whole thing on tape.

 

At this moment, the only thought in the thief’s mind was—what the actual hell?!

 

The cameraman thought the same.

 

Carrying a heavy camera, he’d used all his strength to keep up with the guest, barely managing to follow him into the alley. Once inside, he had to guess the direction half the time. Luckily, he got it right and didn’t lose him. Then in the blink of an eye, the guest turned again into another alley. The cameraman almost lost his breath, but still pushed himself to keep going. He saw two more people suddenly appear and head that way too.

 

The cameraman was a veteran of the field. One look at the situation, combined with the setup of the incident and Baiyun City’s reputation, and he immediately figured out what was going on.

 

This looked bad.

 

He urged the program crew to hurry while rushing forward with the camera. The others hadn’t noticed him yet, so his chances of pulling off a sneak attack were high. But before he got there, he heard someone shout, “Get him!”

 

It was over.

 

Now gasping for breath, his throat felt like it was on fire, but he still ran as hard as he could, hoping to help. But as he turned the corner and saw the scene clearly, he was completely stunned.

 

Such quick reflexes, such smooth movements—it felt like watching an action movie. The protagonist was tall and handsome, the thugs were perfectly cast as cannon fodder, their falls and screams all so realistic it made your bl00d boil. You almost wanted to buy them a couple of drumsticks for their performance… Yeah, no! He quickly remembered he was filming a show, not watching a movie. But since the guest could handle it himself, there was no need to help. He leaned against the wall, panting, and adjusted the camera lens.

 

“Still want to go?” the handsome young man tilted his chin slightly, looking at the thief who was frozen by the wall, his voice calm.

 

The camera faithfully recorded this dramatic scene.

 

The program crew and nearby police officers arrived one after another. The former had already been informed of the situation by the cameraman, but still found it hard to believe when they saw the bodies lying all over the ground. The latter were even more skeptical, suspecting this gang of bastards were playing a prank on the cops—after all, there was a camera, it clearly looked like a filming scene. It wasn’t until the crew identified themselves and showed the footage as evidence that the police believed them.

 

After watching the video and checking the injuries of a few of the accomplices, one of the officers asked Jing Ling, “You’ve had training?”

 

Jing Ling calmly lied and passed the blame: “Learned from the instructor during military training.”

 

Then his eyes shifted to Yunshu, who had just arrived with the program crew, leaning against the wall slightly out of breath. Taking a long stride toward her, he asked, “A-Tan, is it you?” There were only two girls with long hair and green backpacks at the scene—one was the one he had deliberately mistaken earlier, and the other was Yunshu. It was practically a freebie.

 

Everyone from the crew: “……” He can still think about the game at a time like this? This thought process is beyond anyone’s comprehension!