Chapter 2: Why Wait to Follow Him? Add Him Now!
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: CaiCai
Assistant Editor: Karai
The Emergency Incident Response Department was a branch under the Monster Control Committee, responsible for handling all sudden monster incidents. Shi Wenze was a tracker, a high-risk occupation, but with a Qilin guarding Chengdu, the city had always been peaceful. Because of the lack of work this month, he had already been reassigned to the Traffic Department three times to help maintain order on the bar street.
“Xiao Wen,” Zhou Yuansong put down his teacup. “I heard from Minister Wang that the other day, when you intervened in a bar brawl, you sent three Yacha to the hospital again?”
Shi Wenze had no choice but to close the parenting forum and pay attention to the department meeting. Xu You, another tracker, tried to smooth things over. “Director, it’s really not our fault. Those three Yacha drank too much and kept running into Shi Ge’s fists.”
Zhou Yuansong felt a pressure in his chest. “Listen to that excuse. Does it make sense? Do you think the public will believe it?”
Xu You admitted that they probably wouldn’t, but honestly, they couldn’t come up with a better story.
“There are two things,” Zhou Yuansong said, tapping the table, clearly not interested in wasting more time. “First, Minister Wang has made it clear that he will never borrow manpower from our department again.”
Xu You felt a little excited. “That’s truly unfortunate.”
“Second, since you two have nothing better to do, you’re to draft the ‘Guidelines for the Accelerated Adoption of New Security Equipment to Build a Civilized and Orderly Shanhai Society.’ It’s due next month.”
Xu You’s smile froze, and Shi Wenze straightened up in his seat. “What guidelines?”
But Zhou Yuansong had already ended the meeting at lightning speed, with a bang, disappearing from the table and not even taking his beloved stainless-steel thermos with him.
Xu You, “… “
Shi Wenze, “… “
Xu You turned to Shi Wenze. “Do you think it’s too late for us to apply to transfer to the Traffic Department?”
Shi Wenze unwrapped a candy. “Wasn’t Yang Rui’s report just submitted last week? We can refer to it.”
Xu You reminded him, “But his report was about ‘Management Solutions for the Disorderly Operation of Northwest Beef Noodle Stalls in the Gejiaping Area.’ Do you think that will work?”
Shi Wenze answered, “I think it can.”
Xu You held back the unkind words in his throat. “I don’t think it will.”
“Then you handle it,” Shi Wenze put his phone back in his pocket. “I’ve got other things to do. I need to visit Que Mountain Hospital. When you leave, remember to sign my overtime sheet.”
Xu You was once again amazed. “You’re skipping work and still want extra pay?”
Shi Wenze corrected him. “I’m going to visit those three Yacha.”
He scratched his hair in front of the window and leapt out. Unlike Director Zhou’s dramatic “bang” disappearance, Shi Wenze held onto a soft yet tough golden vine climbing up the wall with one hand, sliding down like a mysterious animal, disappearing into the distant darkness below.
Que Mountain Hospital was a towering building, hidden in the misty, chaotic void like the Monster Control Committee’s headquarters. Only monsters could find their way there and pass through.
Shi Wenze dodged a group of young mountain pangolins waiting for vaccinations, avoided the chaotic flying green plows, and even moved a slow-moving sandalwood sapling to a safe spot before taking the elevator to the 37th floor. The security guard, noticing the tall, casual man with a bunch of wilted chrysanthemums in the middle of the night, showed appropriate professional vigilance. “Sorry, you can’t go in.”
“Okay,” Shi Wenze responded with relief, “Then please pass these flowers to the three Yacha in room 3796 and give them my sincerest regards. Here’s my business card.”
The security guard was still diligently writing down the details when Shi Wenze, having already ended the “care visit,” walked straight through the sky garden and knocked on the door of the doctor’s on-call room. “Lan Weiwei.”
The blue-haired girl, who was eating instant noodles, didn’t look up. “Not available.”
“I have a question,” Shi Wenze tossed five monster coins onto the desk.
“Okay, now I’m available,” Lan Weiwei dragged over a chair. “But just so you know, I don’t have any life advice to offer.”
“Teach me how to follow stars.”
“…”
Like Lin Lu, Lan Weiwei wondered if she was hallucinating. Shi Wenze, after all, was no artist, and needed some excuse for his sudden abnormal behavior. So he casually made up a story. “It’s for a mission.”
Lan Weiwei immediately understood and filled in the blanks based on his profession. “You want to infiltrate a criminal group, and the weak point is that there’s a beast in the group obsessed with following stars?”
Shi Wenze leaned back and genuinely praised her, “You even figured that out. So how do I follow?”
“Following stars comes in many forms.”
“The easiest one.”
“Spend money.”
“…”
Spending money was indeed the easiest method, but Shi Wenze’s intellect and financial capacity were normal, and he wasn’t about to do something like buying up all the city’s billboards for Xia Jiayang. So he had to settle for second best. “What else, besides spending money?”
Lan Weiwei rested her chin on her hand. If he didn’t want to spend money, he could work on the data or help organize some offline events. But the star he wanted to follow was so unpopular that it would be hard to attract more than a couple of people. This beast truly had no taste in stars these days.
“Not getting many people is fine,” Shi Wenze scoffed. “I think two is perfect. Is there a way?”
“Big brother, how bad does a star have to be for an offline event to only have two fans, one of whom is a tracker on a mission?” Lan Weiwei shook her head. “Impossible. But how about this, I’ll get someone to find a signed photo of him for you, then teach you some fandom basics so you don’t blow your cover.”
Shi Wenze asked, “What’s fandom knowledge?”
For example, one day, when a popular idol’s romantic relationship was exposed, what should you, who was supporting the rival fanbase, do at that moment? a) laugh loudly, b) insult them, c) express shock, d) well, it’s not my idol’s reputation at stake, so just wish them well, quickly grab all the top comments, and sincerely congratulate the rival fans.
“d.” Shi Wenze answered decisively, full of confidence. Lan Weiwei’s eyes were filled with sympathy for the academic underachiever. All four answers were wrong. You should just keep quiet.
Shi Wenze, “…” Common sense, right? It wasn’t like he couldn’t learn.
When he left Que Mountain Hospital, the faintest sliver of light had begun to show on the eastern horizon. The streetlights of the city were still glowing. They were designed in the shape of magnolia buds, resembling a blooming sea of flowers in the sky, which would turn a soft orange-red whenever dusk fell.
The modified exhaust pipes let out a huge roar in the silent early morning. The aunties doing square dancing in the garden wrinkled their brows in disdain. “Ah, I can tell it’s just some troublemaker.” Shi Wenze rode his motorcycle alone, speeding down the empty streets, shattering a whole stretch of wind and mist, and finally performed a slick turn, coming to a smooth stop in front of a street food stall. He took off his helmet with one hand, his short hair slightly tousled. “Zhang Uncle, two bowls of noodles, less green onions, more chili.”
The lights were still on in the shop’s second floor. Xu You was sitting at his computer, almost pulling his hair out in frustration.
As soon as Shi Wenze went upstairs, he saw a face bathed in the pale light of the screen, and thought to himself that this scene could easily be used in a horror movie. Xu You slowly looked up, his gaze resentful, as though looking at a cheating scumbag. “Do you know, I only wrote thirty words last night?”
Shi Wenze placed the food container in front of him. “Director Zhou just said it was a draft. I think the word count doesn’t need to be so strict.”
Xu You slammed the table in anger. “But it can’t just be thirty words! If I can’t finish this, my bonus for next month will be deducted! And you still have the nerve to go out and mess around? What’s with that smell of reed and night demon on you?”
“I went to see Lan Weiwei,” Shi Wenze sniffed his sleeve, “consulting her about some artistic matters.”
Xu You was stunned into silence, unsure of how to comprehend this bizarre response. Since when did you have anything to do with art? And when did Lan Weiwei become involved with art? Do you remember back in high school when she insisted that The Count of Monte Cristo was a European vampire horror TV series? With that kind of rare cultural knowledge, what was she even advising you on?
However, Shi Wenze had already gone back to his bedroom. He took a quick shower, threw himself onto the bed, exhausted physically but mentally wired. This mental excitement had started the moment he learned that Lin Su was returning to Chengdu. Those memories of high school, from when he was sixteen or seventeen, suddenly came rushing back, as vivid as sunlight, piercing through hidden memories, stirring his heart and mind, making him burn with heat.
Shi Wenze stared at the dim light on the ceiling, realizing he hadn’t felt this uncontrollable emotion in years. He thought to himself, the world needed a little pretentious yet lively art to brighten up life.
Lan Weiwei had first sent him a picture of Xia Jiayang’s signed photo. Shi Wenze thought his ability to embarrass himself was quite limited, so he only cropped the signature’s corner, making sure that no one untrained in art would be able to recognize it as something nonsensical before reluctantly switching it to his WeChat profile picture.
At seven o’clock, the whole city was fully awake. The sky’s color was faint, and the light was also dim. Lin Su had had many dreams that night, waking up with a headache. He drank a whole bottle of water to clear his mind. There were a lot of unread messages on WeChat, but he ignored all of them and focused on Shi Wenze’s profile in the group. If he remembered correctly, this person’s avatar had been a picture of a blue sky just yesterday.
Although the blue sky was quite uncool, looking like it belonged to the “middle-aged man fishing club,” Lin Su took a few deep breaths and reflected on what he had done wrong. Why was he torturing himself with this at such an early hour? He turned off the screen, walked out of his bedroom with a frustrated expression, only to bump into “Xia Jiayang” at the end of the hallway.
“Whoa—”
“Brother, calm down,” Lin Lu peeked her head out from behind the standee. “I’ll move back to my room right away. I won’t get in your way.”
Lin Su’s heart was still pounding, and he incredulously asked, “Did you steal a life-sized standee from the store?”
“Do you know how to speak? This is material from the mall’s display. I reserved it early this morning.” Lin Lu dusted off her hands. “The manager told me to work overtime. I’ve already made breakfast, you can order takeout for lunch.”
Lin Su gripped the water bottle, coldly muttering a “Mm,” and watched his sister carry the standee back to her room. After she left, he pulled out his phone and sent a message.
Lin Su: “What brand of chips did you eat last time?”
Tianxia: “They’re on my bedroom desk, just go get them yourself.”
Having gained access, Lin Su confidently entered the bedroom, not searching for chips but pulling out his phone to take a picture of the standee. He then posted a private Moment on WeChat.
The location was precise, but unfortunately, the target was still asleep, so it wasn’t until five hours later that Shi Wenze saw the post. He kicked the blanket off and sat up, consulting his friends for advice on what to do next.
Lan Weiwei replied immediately: “What are you waiting for? Add him as a friend and tell him you also want a life-sized standee!”
Shi Wenze thought to himself, This is so stupid.
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