A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

The lights in the office building were still on.

Sister Li stared at the backend. In the chat window of the online troll group, the frequency of comments controlled by the entire matrix plummeted from 300 per minute to 17 per minute.

The label "facial paralysis" has been redefined by professional analysis as "dimensional reduction attack," and anyone who uses this term is essentially giving Lu Yuan free publicity.

Zhao Xiujie sat on the sofa, his phone screen black. He stared at the black screen for a long time.

His own face was reflected on the screen.

Sister Li closed the backend page. Only the hum of the air conditioner's outdoor unit remained in the office.

One million two hundred thousand.

After three months of lying low, two offensives were launched, utilizing three marketing account networks, two groups of online trolls, and over a dozen distribution points.

Zhao Xiujie's hand was protecting his chest, around his ribs. The bones had long since healed, but his hand always seemed to go there.

---

Lu Yuan lay on the cloth sofa, his phone resting on his stomach.

A WeChat message popped up for Su Qinghan: a screenshot. The backend panel for the first week's pre-sale data showed all shows marked in red – sold out.

He swiped his thumb across the screen, opened the emoji list, selected a yellow face with a thumbs-up emoji, and sent it.

He tossed the phone back into the sofa cushions.

There were two oranges on the coffee table, bought yesterday at a supermarket clearance price of one yuan and fifty cents for three pounds. He picked one up and dug his fingernails into the peel.

The juice from the orange peel splattered out, carrying a pungent, sour smell.

Old Six lay on the other end of the coffee table, turning his ear forward slightly.

Lu Yuan held a piece of orange peel he had peeled up to the cat's nose.

The sixth dog pulled its head back, wrinkled its nose, and sneezed twice. It shook its head and covered its nose with its front paws.

Lu Yuan popped a segment of orange into his mouth and chewed it a couple of times. It was sour, making his teeth feel weak.

The leaves of the plane trees outside the window were turned by the wind, and the line of sunlight that fell on the floor shifted.

The sixth brother turned around, his nose still wrinkled, his expression full of accusation against humanity.

"Serves you right. Who told you to steal Teacher Xu's ice cream?"

The sixth child buried its face in its front paws and ignored him.

Lu Yuan leaned back on the sofa armrest and peeled another petal.

The afternoon light was lovely.

......

Publicity Director Zhou Ming stared at the public opinion monitoring panel, sweat beading on his forehead again.

The video of Night Owl garnered over 20 million views within eight hours, and the comments section went from praising "god-level acting skills" to spiraling out of control.

The academic concepts cited, such as "pathological emotional desensitization," "fear neural pathways being burned out," and "crossing the line between life and death multiple times," have been translated into more popular versions by netizens after being forwarded twenty times.

"So this person really killed someone?"

"Zero pupil reflex is not something that can be trained, it's something that comes from experience. Think about what kind of experience that is."

"Is it possible that Su Qinghan hired a real assassin to play the role of an assassin?"

On Weibo's super topic, some people started compiling screenshots of Lu Yuan's movements in variety shows, along with comparison diagrams of the CQC tactics manual found on military forums.

On a Douban group, a long post titled "A behavioral analysis perspective: Lu Yuan is very likely to have real-world killing experience" received more than 4,000 replies within three hours.

A military blogger with 200,000 followers posted a Weibo post: "A retired special forces soldier I know watched Lu Yuan's video and only said one thing - this guy didn't come from the military system, the military can't train someone like this."

The comments below are practically burning through the screen.

Zhou Ming sent a screenshot of the panel to the work group and typed: "If the label of hiring mercenaries from overseas is confirmed, it's a no-go for passing the review."

Su Qinghan walked to the screen with a mug in her hand.

Three of the top five trending topics contained the name "Lu Yuan," two of which were related to "murder." If this trend continues unchecked for another 48 hours, the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television's public opinion report will likely target "Black Gold."

She placed the mug on the table. "Open the resource library."

Zhou Ming was stunned for a moment.

"Daily monitoring on set, pick three clips." She walked to the editing table, sat down, and tapped the keyboard twice to bring up the file directory.

"No acting material, nothing related to the character. I want the audience to see with their own eyes—that person who sits in the interrogation room, fearless in the face of death, even counting out six goji berries after the scene."

Five minutes later, the materials were selected, approved one by one, and uploaded with one click.

......

The official Weibo account of "Black Gold" posted its first behind-the-scenes video.

It's just a raw video recording from the film set's security surveillance.

The timestamp in the upper left corner of the screen is ticking, indicating the final stage of scene 50.

On the monitor, Lu Yuan, dressed in a bespoke suit, stood in the center of the abandoned trading hall, his tie fastened to the top button, the contours of his profile sharply defined by the overhead lights.

Three steps away, two extras stood with their backs to the camera. One was rubbing his wrist, and the other was drinking water. Both of their shoulders were slightly tilted outwards—subconsciously widening the distance between themselves and Lu Yuan.

Su Qinghan's voice came from off-screen: "Cut!"

Lu Yuan's spine instantly went from straight to slightly bent. He put his hands in his pockets and slipped back to the equipment box.

Unscrew the thermos, take out the sealed bag from the inside pocket of the jacket, and count the goji berries.

An extra passing by glanced over, and Lu Yuan looked up and said to him, "It's 19.9 yuan with free shipping on Pinduoduo, what a bargain."

The extras' expressions shifted from confusion to bewilderment, and then they left.

Lu Yuan blew on the thermos, and the goji berries swirled twice on the surface of the water.

The comment section was filled with the habitual slogans of paid trolls for the first 30 seconds. Starting from the 31st second, the comments from real users pushed the templates down.

"Wait, wait, wait, the person in the first ten seconds and the person in the last ten seconds is the same person???"

"His mouth was moving as he counted the goji berries. I counted, six. Six."

"The lifestyle of serial killers is too low, even lower than that of my dog."

"Pinduoduo's goji berry warriors are truly confirmed, everyone."

Su Qinghan didn't stop; the second behind-the-scenes clip was released immediately afterward.

In the scene, an orange shadow swiftly darted onto Xu Changlin's tea tray.

The first frequently used word in the live stream chat was "It's over".

The sixth dog rested its front paws on the edge of the porcelain dish, its head lowered, and its tongue sticking out. Three centimeters to the side, the purple clay teapot sat quietly.

The surveillance camera angle provides a clearer view: Xiao Zhong's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, and the color drained from his face to behind his ears.

Then Lu Yuan rushed in from the bottom left corner of the screen, leaving a blurry afterimage. He precisely pinched the back of Lao Liu's neck with his five fingers, lifting the entire cat up. Lao Liu still had ice cream crumbs on its mouth, and its hind legs were kicking like bicycles in the air.

The following section is what truly ignited the comments section.

Lu Yuan, carrying the cat and bending over, said something to Xu Changlin, who hadn't had a chance to get angry yet.

The surveillance microphone recorded every word.

"Your Dezhong teapot, made of original ore purple clay, is from Shao Daheng—"

"When pouring water from a high position, my wrist tilted by half an degree, and the water hit the side of the pot as it fell—"

"The forced aroma lost five percent of its complexity."

Xu Changlin's facial expressions were fully recorded: from surprise that never even changed color, to confusion, to suspicion, and finally—laughter.

Of the top 50 most upvoted comments, 37 asked the same question: How did he know?

Some say it's the script. Some say it's lines memorized in advance. Some say it's just for the sake of variety show effects arranged by the production team.

Rational fans' doubts quickly became the mainstream opinion: "This scene is too smooth. A newcomer just starts talking about Shao Daheng's Dezhong original ore purple clay? Does the screenwriter even need to script these kinds of behind-the-scenes moments? Do they think the audience is stupid?"