The hysterical argument outside the film set was impossible to keep from spreading.

The location was the set of a highly popular documentary, the protagonist was at the center of recent public opinion, and even the content of the argument was a topic that had caused a city-wide storm.

…

It was just that before this, not many people had connected them.

Not many people had connected them, even though there were indeed many clues, many hints and signs that were not difficult to find.

When the first episode of “Huo Miao” was released, it had even caused a small wave of discussion—some people felt that the ten-year-old child in the video footage looked very familiar, bearing a slight resemblance to the guitarist who had made a fleeting appearance and was then universally slammed online.

Someone immediately retorted below, how could that be possible, that’s the general manager of Huaisheng Entertainment. When he debuted, he was hounded and flamed for using his family background to bully people and suppress other singers on the same chart.

Then someone else retorted, what year was this fabricated smear material from? Pointing the way to Huaisheng Entertainment’s official Weibo, all the evidence that needed to be released was laid out clearly, along with plenty of first-hand official high-definition works. A newcomer had just fallen into the fandom and was busy stanning.

Many people left comments under this reply, most of them also new fans who were camping on Huaisheng’s official Weibo, unable to resist clarifying the smear campaign. Later, the topic diverged somewhat. Someone remembered that Luo Zhi’s health was also not good, that Luo Zhi seemed to have been severely injured as a child, and heard that Luo Zhi was currently recuperating…

Finally, someone else replied, “Shh, let’s not disturb him.”

Let’s not disturb him here.

The pilot episode of “Huo Miao” had already made it very clear: the survivor has passed away, and this unit will have no follow-up.

The theme of the documentary was the lives of victims after being rescued and returning. The timeline also started from this point.

The camera followed Zhao Lan’s perspective. She was looking for a boy named Huo Miao. She had received a gift from thirteen years ago. They had made a promise back then, a promise to meet when she got better, to celebrate with champagne. Huo Miao had said she was the bravest big sister.

Zhao Lan came to fulfill the promise, to see how he had grown up.

Zhao Lan came with a letter from her father. There was a thick stack of handwritten letters that she could open whenever she felt homesick.

When she got in the car, her mother hugged her, wiping away tears of both heartache and pride. Her younger sister, clenching her fists, jumped up and down outside the window, cheering her on loudly. Her husband sat beside her, holding her hand, which was covered in狰狞 scars.

Her parents and sister had met Huo Miao and asked her to bring back a travel bag full of return gifts. Her younger sister, while stuffing a remote-controlled car inside, worried, “It’s been thirteen years. Has little brother reached the age where he doesn’t like toy cars anymore?”

…

So not all stories end this way.

Her father’s letter to her said to believe that all wounds will heal. Although the scars might not be very beautiful, even a little scary, sooner or later they would heal to a point where they would never hurt again.

Zhao Lan sat under the desk lamp, writing a reply to her father. The tip of her pen was still trembling as she wrote. The light was soft and warm, and under the pen’s tip hid a small patch of dark shadow.

Zhao Lan wrote with her head bowed, writing, “Dad, I believe you.” She wrote, “My scars have long since stopped hurting completely.” She wrote, “My husband says my scars look like butterflies.”

She wrote, “Dad, it turns out there are such bad people. They tear open other people’s wounds.”

…It turns out there really are such people.

It turns out that a child who is found is not necessarily anticipated, and may even disturb the peaceful and perfect life of that family. So they have to be hidden away, casually stuffed into some corner, thrown to a place out of sight and out of mind.

But thankfully, not everyone was like that. Thankfully, little brother was taken home. Thankfully, it was a very good, very gentle auntie.

Little brother worked super hard to move past those things, became super happy, he learned to bake pastries, and was also learning to paint…

That letter was never finished in the end.

Zhao Lan didn’t write any more.

Let’s not disturb him. He’s finally resting after so much effort.

After walking for thirteen long years.

On Huaisheng Entertainment’s official Weibo, not a single comment asking about this matter appeared in the first moments.

Because the latest Weibo post made it impossible to know how to comment.

How to comment and ask if the words spoken out of desperation during Luo Cheng and her mother’s mutual accusations were true.

Whether the prototype for “Huo Miao” was Luo Zhi, whether this was the reason for Luo Zhi’s poor health and why he was always inexplicably targeted by his family.

Whether that inexplicable, internet-wide smear campaign back then also came about this way—the adopted son, with his mother’s help, leaked the smear material, which was immediately seized upon by people with ulterior motives.

And in this matter, the Luo family’s attitude was almost one of silent approval, even indulgence… Was it also because letting Luo Zhi become a dissolute second-generation heir was far better than letting Luo Zhi become a huge star after debuting, only to have his past dug up, for everyone to judge and mock this family?

This attitude gave those malicious people too much reassurance. The crazy, overwhelming slander and defamation were completely unrestrained. The opposing voices were quickly swallowed up without making a splash.

If this was true, the truth under the lies was ironic to the extreme, even like the most absurd and ridiculous black humor.

Luo Zhi’s smear material even included him using his family background to oppress people.

What family background did he use to oppress people? His family couldn’t wait to crush him to death.

…

But the latest Weibo post really left people not knowing how to comment.

The video of Luo Zhi’s competition performance had already been released. Now, what was being released were some video materials from their company’s internal team-building or celebration banquets.

Actually, the last few posts had already made people feel vaguely uneasy, although no one could quite put their finger on what that uneasiness was—if you didn’t look closely at those videos, you wouldn’t notice anything wrong at all.

Luo Zhi just looked a little more tired than before. He would still laugh and chat. The radiant guitarist in the T-shirt was gone, but Young Master Luo was still super cool.

Especially when wearing a formal suit and tie, leaning back on the sofa, watching a group of subordinates who were crazily excited about a hit drama and making a mess of the office, sighing helplessly and laughing along with them.

…

Many people even started to fall head over heels for him from this point.

Luo Zhi actually hadn’t had the chance to grow into that particularly mature, completely rational and calm adult.

He wasn’t at that age at all.

The oldest in their company team was the manager of the film and television production department. He had been so badly screwed over at his previous company that he almost went to jail. He was bought out and poached by Luo Zhi, and he wasn’t even forty yet. Because he was experienced and knowledgeable, he consciously took on the role of the big housekeeper for this group of people. He led the team in handling the company’s specific regulations and operations.

So Luo Zhi also hadn’t been tainted by the tedious processes of the business world, the nit-picking negotiations, the scheming and backstabbing.

He was pushed to this point, took on the company’s responsibility at the most stressful time, made decisions at the most questioned points, and moved forward when everyone was in a panic, yet he stubbornly retained the shadow of his former self.

In the previous Weibo post, Luo Zhi had just woken up in a KTV private room at a celebration banquet. He was surrounded by a group of people who were clamoring for him to make a comeback, but he just smiled, shook his head, and tapped one of his ears.

The timeline of this post followed the previous one.

They had pulled an all-nighter at the KTV, slept for an hour or two as the sky was turning pale, and were then dragged out one by one by the manager of the film and television production department, just in time to go to the seaside to watch the sunrise.

The short sleep was not enough to restore much energy, but it successfully sobered them up. The group of people, either squatting or sitting in the sea breeze, rubbed their foreheads. The camera was in Fang Hang’s hands, unceremoniously sweeping across everyone’s image-shattering dark circles and bed hair.

The camera panned around and turned to Luo Zhi. Young Master Luo was still super dashing in a shirt and tie, his trench coat folded twice and draped over his elbow. He leaned against a reef, smiling as he watched their antics.

“Too cunning!” the manager of the marketing department shouted. “Did Young Master Luo secretly stay awake just to make a grand appearance!”

The seaside was pitch black before sunrise. The wind lanterns lit by the nearby fishermen swayed. The sea breeze made Luo Zhi cough a little. He smiled and owned up to it, “I was going for a grand appearance!”

“Young Master Luo must maintain his image!” The wind was very strong, and Fang Hang also shouted into the wind. “Young Master Luo must make a comeback! His ear will get better!”

The manager of the artist department had a certain professional acuity. He handed the camera to someone else and led the cheer, raising his arms and shouting, “Be our pillar!”

Luo Zhi was amused by their clamor and laughed along with them, also shouting, “Be the pillar!”

He probably didn’t have much experience shouting randomly at the seaside. The wind choked him, and he coughed even more severely. He took a few sips of water from someone’s hand, waved his hand, and slowly sat down, propping himself up on the reef.

Anyway, they were out to relax, so Luo Zhi decided to cooperate fully. He even more properly and demurely straightened his tie, accepting Fang Hang’s messy interview with that mineral water bottle.

Fang Hang said all sorts of things, and he agreed to everything. He promised to make a comeback and hold a concert once the company was completely stable, promised that the front row tickets would all be sold internally through the back door, promised to hold the biggest press conference and throw all the old smear material back in those people’s faces…

As they were talking, it was time for sunrise. This random interview was paused, and the camera lens turned towards the sea.

The sun that had just emerged was not dazzling; it seemed touchable.

What emerged from between the water and the sky was a red so rich it was startling. The saturation of that color was so high that it almost gave people the illusion that it would melt itself into that water.

The sun had risen, but the night was not yet over. In the distance, it was still the dark black of pre-dawn, pressing down, unmoved.

No one spoke. The only background sound in the video was the wind.

In the whistling, loud sound of the wind, everything that was slowly changing seemed like a completely unreal oil painting, smeared onto a canvas by some artist.

Luo Zhi sat in the corner of the oil painting. No one had noticed him for the time being, so he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and quietly rested his forehead against the reef.

It was unknown whether it was because the saturation in the center of the screen was too high, or because the early morning sea breeze was indeed too cold, but the hand resting on his knee was an unnaturally cold white.

A moment later, the sky in that area seemed like the paint had finally, slowly dispersed in the water.

The color of the sun began to fade, and the surrounding clouds were instead dyed red. The rolling red clouds extended into the distance, and the surrounding sky was completely illuminated, turning into a clear, translucent blue.

The light continuously extended into the distance, making the sea sparkle. Seabirds circled and called out, their sounds crisp.

Luo Chi’s body slowly slid down along the reef. The business department manager quickly patted him on the shoulder. He shivered slightly and looked up in confusion.

“Whose artist is this, caring about image but not health,” the business department manager scolded him with a pained heart. “Staying up all night.”

Luo Zhi rubbed his eyes and laughed along, self-deprecatingly, “Whose artist is this.”

“You didn’t sleep just now, but you’re sleeping now.”

Fang Hang took back the camera. He had only just realized that Luo Zhi had actually fallen asleep like that. He came over and added, “You didn’t even see the sunrise.”

“Next time,” Luo Zhi promised. “I’ll see it next time.”

Young Master Luo’s attitude in accepting criticism was so good that they didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore. They just forced Luo Zhi to put on his trench coat to avoid catching a cold right after waking up.

A KTV all-nighter followed by watching the sunrise was a reserved program for Huaisheng Entertainment. The atmosphere had already been built up to this point, so of course, they had to shout at the sea a few more times, vent their emotions, and make a few wishes.

Most of what they shouted was related to the company. They hoped to go further, hoped everything would go smoothly, hoped for two more hit scripts next year, hoped that the current group of people would never break up.

Fang Hang thought for a moment and added a shout for his son to speak more fluently soon and call Young Master Luo ‘Little Uncle’. The manager of the film and television production department had been through ups and downs and no longer had many competitive thoughts; he would be very satisfied as long as his career and family were stable and smooth…

After the group had finished their chaotic shouting, they realized that Luo Zhi was still sitting on that reef and hadn’t come over.

This time they were really worried that Luo Zhi wasn’t feeling well and rushed back to surround him. Only then did they discover that Luo Zhi’s spirits were actually fine. He was holding his phone, noting down what they had just shouted in his notepad.

“Why are you still using this to take notes?” Fang Hang was still a little worried. He waved a hand in front of his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

Luo Zhi was stunned for a moment before snapping back to reality. He smiled, “My memory’s not so good lately.”

“I keep forgetting things, and I feel dizzy,” Luo Zhi tapped his forehead. “I’ll go to the hospital for a check-up later.”

Fang Hang frowned and nodded quickly, tossing the camera aside. “Go quickly, don’t let it be neurasthenia—if you’re not feeling well, just tell us. Why did you have to come here in the middle of the night to be blown by the sea breeze?”

Luo Zhi was in a good mood. He still remembered the half-finished interview from earlier. He raised a hand to straighten his tie. “I just bought these clothes. I was waiting for today to strike a pose and make an appearance.”

“Of course you have to make an appearance. Whose artist is this handsome?” The business department manager happened to hear this sentence and picked up the camera. “Quick, Mr. Luo, make a wish. You’re the only one left.”

Luo Zhi was facing the camera lens directly. For some reason, he was suddenly stunned for a moment.

The business department manager urged him from behind the camera, “Hurry up, Mr. Luo, what is your wish?”

He snatched Fang Hang’s mineral water bottle to use as a microphone and held it in front of Luo Zhi.

Luo Zhi couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. He propped himself up with his arms and tried to get up twice, but sat back down.

Luo Zhi supported his body with one hand, raised his head, and thought seriously for a while.

He leaned against the reef, straightened his collar, cleared his throat, and quite professionally found an angle for the camera.

He really looked particularly handsome like this, especially with the newly risen sun behind him, wearing a trench coat, his tie fluttering in the wind.

Everyone present was from the industry. Several of them had their professional instincts kick in. If it weren’t for the fact that there was no place to do it, they would have wanted to hold him down on the spot and take a set of hard photos.

The business department manager subconsciously took two steps forward, wanting to find a more suitable angle. Before he could react, the camera was snatched away by the quick-handed Young Master Luo, who had been lying in wait.

The screen became a chaotic mess. The camera was snatched back and forth between them, the lens shaking non-stop. Luo Zhi hid the camera in his arms and wouldn’t give it to anyone. He was then tickled by someone, and he couldn’t stop laughing while coughing.

…

This Weibo post had a very high number of views, but abnormally few comments and bullet comments. People who had rushed over wanting to know what was going on, wanting to understand what had happened, all fell silent in unison.

All of them, it seemed, only at this moment, had finally put together every piece of the puzzle and assembled the whole story.

The shipwreck victim list with only one person on it was not a case of the same name. Huaisheng Entertainment’s sudden, almost self-destructive decision was not a coincidence.

The overwhelming reversal of public opinion during this period, the abnormal content in Ren Chenbai’s Weibo, the almost insane revenge Li Weiming suffered, the Luo family’s one after another belated clarification statements…

Until this moment, all the people who had just seen Luo Zhi, just fallen for Luo Zhi, seemed to have finally been forced to accept some facts that were actually obvious.

In the last few seconds of the video, only a corner of his clothes remained in the frame.

What was Luo Zhi’s final wish?

“Someone give me a hand,” Young Master Luo said with a smile. “I can’t get up.”