Chapter 29: Your Name Is Hidden in My ID

Police cars and ambulances arrived at the scene with their sirens wailing. Even in a high-end residential complex, there is no escaping the curiosity of onlookers. A crowd had already gathered at the base of the building.

Feng Zheng used his last bit of strength to grab the sleeve of Yan Ye's shirt. "Help me cover my face! Please, I beg you." If people saw what he looked like now, he would definitely be in the headlines of tomorrow's social media.

Yan Ye was still thinking about the expression on Xu Zhiting's face when he left. She casually flipped a cloth over, covering Feng Zheng completely.

The next day, the headlines in Jing City were dominated by the murder case at a certain top-tier luxury apartment complex.

On the first day, Yan Ye stayed home, eating and drinking as usual.
On the second day, Yan Ye stayed home and started a livestream.

Thanks to the generous tips from Xu Zhiting, the stream had a flood of viewers as soon as it started. Although it didn't quite reach the numbers of the past few days, it was still far better than before. The first thing the viewers did upon flooding into the stream was ask if the "God of Wealth" was there.

[Did the top contributor not come today?]
[Will we see a sea of confession flowers today?]
[What are you selling today, wifey?]
[My money is ready! Buy, buy, buy!]
[Please show your face, don't make me get on my knees and beg.]
...

The leaderboard was empty; that shiny, familiar ID was marked as offline.

"People have other things to attend to; they can't just keep watch over me every single day. Stop guessing. Buy some snacks so I can make some money."

[Did you have a fight?]
[Are you unhappy?]
[What a woman who says one thing but means another!]
[You have four big words written on your face: I am very annoyed.]
[If there's something you can't resolve, why don't you have a 'fight' in bed?]
...

Yan Ye ignored the barrage of suggestive comments, trying to pick out a question of some substance. After looking for a while, she cursed silently—there wasn't a single one. Why were netizens these days so hard to manage?

"We aren't close. It's not as complicated as you think."

Clearly, Yan Ye's denial seemed weak and pale; netizens these days prefer to believe what they want to see.

[Yes, we aren't close. We just happen to have a child.]
[Yes, we aren't close. He just happens to tip tens of millions.]
[Yes, we aren't close. We just happen to like each other.]
[Yes, we aren't close. I just happened to hide your name in my ID.]
...

"You guys have such vivid imaginations."

[Yes, I'm a drama queen.]
[I'm a contrarian.]
[I'm a detergent.]
[I'm a little sprite who loves you to death.]
...

For the first time, Yan Ye realized that as the number of people in the stream grew, the comments became quite entertaining. Even Gold Ingot would have to call these people "seniors."

"Alright, little sprites, listen up. Tonight, we are selling 'Devil's Spicy Strips'."

Below, the comments were asking just how "devilish" they were. Yan Ye thought about how to describe them. "If you can't handle spicy food, don't buy them; you can buy the non-spicy version. This level of heat is something the average person might not be able to handle."

[I'm in the second class.]
[I'm in the third class.]
[How spicy is it? If someone I hate eats it, will they chase me for three blocks with a broom?]
[Butt pain? What level of pain?]
[Warning to the person above: keep it clean.]
[Call me 'baby,' host, and I'll buy ten cases.]
...

"Next, let's introduce the second item. This is 'Fragrant Spicy Duck Gizzard.' It's very fragrant and has a great chew. The more you eat, the more addicted you become. The texture is very satisfying. It's a godsend for meat lovers; you'll want more after the first bite. It's an essential snack for binge-watching and gossip."

Then, the third item, the fourth item...

New viewers didn't notice anything, but the few little sweethearts who had been watching her stream for a long time realized that Yan Ye was a bit different tonight. She was too diligent. This one stream was equivalent to half a month's worth of previous airtime, and she was selling products at a rate that almost matched an entire week. It felt like she was selling everything off just to run away.

For two full hours, Yan Ye's throat was dry from talking. Gold Ingot thoughtfully brought her a cup of chrysanthemum and goji berry tea.

"You're very hot-tempered; you should cool down."
"Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine."
"Oh! Only a ghost would believe that."

Until the end of the broadcast, Yan Ye remained sitting in her chair, lost in thought. Gold Ingot found a drawing board and brushes from somewhere. "Tell me, what do you want?"

"What are you doing?"
"Cheering you up!" It was quite adept at handling the brushes.
"A gift drawn on paper?"
"I don't have money, and even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you. Let me draw you a male model! If one isn't enough, I'll draw a few more."

It moved the brush, sketching rapidly. Within a few minutes, a rough outline had emerged.

"Ingot, do you have any wishes?"

The brush on the paper paused, leaving a black dot that instantly marred the drawing. It silently put down the brush.

"My programming tells me that at this moment, I should tell you that my wish is for Yan Ye to be happy. But my inner self tells me that I want to resurrect He Ruiwen within my lifetime."

Yan Ye patted its smooth, bald head and stood up to leave. Gold Ingot followed behind her.

"Don't you want the eighteen male models?"

Yan Ye walked out the door, waving her hand without looking back. "I don't have the fortune to enjoy that."

...

On the third day, Yan Ye went to the hospital.

Feng Zheng lay on the bed, his vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling. When someone pushed the door open, he assumed it was the doctor or nurse as usual, until his vision was mostly blocked. He saw Yan Ye.

Inexplicably, he felt that this woman would be his only hope. His eyes brightened for a moment, then quickly dimmed again.

"Am I going to die?"
"No. As long as she doesn't let you die, you won't." Strictly speaking, Feng Zheng's life was currently in the hands of Zhuang Ruyin.
"I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have said that sentence. I shouldn't have," he kept muttering to himself.

Yan Ye walked to the window and stared at the gloomy, rainy day outside.

"Some promises shouldn't be made lightly; the gods will take them seriously. You aren't a good person either, are you? You've told so many lies that even you have started to believe them yourself."

...

Feng Zheng slowly closed his eyes, recalling how this emotional tug-of-war with Zhuang Ruyin had begun.

"Feng Zheng, dinner is ready. It's your favorite sweet and sour pork ribs today."
"Why aren't you moving?"
"What? You don't like this? Then I'll go make another batch for you."

Zhuang Ruyin picked up the plate of sweet and sour ribs, her expression shifting from a smile to a blank, emotionless mask the moment she turned away. She dumped a plate of raw ribs, still stained with fresh blood, into the trash can.

The next second, she resumed her image as a virtuous wife. She took another rack of ribs from the refrigerator—ribs that had already rotted to the point where one could faintly see maggots wriggling on them. She placed them on the cutting board and hacked at them a few times.

Flesh and maggots splattered onto her face and clothes. A drop of blood landed right on the side of her face, adding an even gloomier, darker tone to the already lifeless room.

Spoon after spoon of sugar covered the meat, and the vinegar poured over it dissolved the sugar. The maggots, stimulated by the acid, became even more active.

Feng Zheng took one look and couldn't stop himself from retching. He felt so faint that his vision blurred. He hadn't eaten for five days, surviving only on a few cups of water; his physical functions were failing rapidly.

The woman in front of him was a devil. No, she was even more terrifying than a devil. If time could turn back three months, he would never have chosen to meet Zhuang Ruyin.