Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

It's 10:30 p.m.

The featured spot on the homepage of a major live streaming platform.

Nanfeng, a platinum-level author on Xingyao Chinese Network, is currently live streaming.

He sat in his luxuriously decorated study.

The background is a whole wall of beautifully decorated classic books.

Nanfeng wore a well-tailored haute couture shirt, and her hair was styled with hair gel, making it shiny and smooth.

He flashed what he considered a perfect smile at the camera.

Good evening, family.

"The main reason for starting this broadcast today is to talk to you about my new book, 'Warm Sunflower'."

"Many readers have asked me why I made the protagonist a rich second-generation who drives a supercar to help the poor."

Nanfeng picked up the bone china teacup beside her and took a sip.

"Because I myself often go to remote mountainous areas to do charity work."

"I know all too well what people at the bottom of society need."

"They don't need their wounds reopened; they need money and hope for redemption."

The screen was instantly filled with comments like "Nanfeng is so loving" and "This is a true literary master."

Nanfeng looked at the comments with a smug expression.

He put down his teacup and changed the subject.

"Speaking of which, I have to mention that book on the website next door, what's it called, 'Little Shop'?"

"I really don't understand, what's the point of writing about that impoverished life every day?"

"That author called 'Emotion' doesn't even dare to show his face."

"Why are you afraid to show your face?"

"Because he feels guilty!"

"What he wrote was not literature at all; it was purely exploiting the suffering of the lower classes."

"I bet this kind of mentality would make someone a complete loser in real life."

The atmosphere in the live stream instantly became incredibly lively.

Nanfeng's Iron Pole fans started flooding the screen with messages.

"The big boss is right. Do those keyboard warriors hiding in dark corners even deserve to be called writers?"

"He's probably a penniless nobody who can't afford food in real life, trying to feel important here!"

Within five minutes, several tech-savvy fans in the fan group began a manhunt.

They began tracking the IP addresses of authors on the Zhongyan Literature Network's backend through some informal channels.

Soon, rows of neat and uniform text appeared on the live stream's chat screen.

"Found it!"

"The IP address associated with that emotion is located in the old town of Jiangcheng!"

"That area is full of those dilapidated basement apartments that cost only a few hundred dollars a month!"

"The case is solved, folks! This author is truly an outcast living in a basement!"

"That's hilarious! A poor guy living in a basement, trying to teach us how to understand life?"

Nanfeng looked at the comments and couldn't help but smile.

He waved to the camera.

"Let's all be rational and not attack other people's real living conditions."

"Even though he is a marginalized person in society, we should still be tolerant of him."

These words, ostensibly meant to dissuade, actually firmly labeled Xu Qing as a "social outcast."

At the same time.

The prime-time slot on Tomato TV on weekends.

The hit music variety show "The Voice of China," which has the highest viewership ratings nationwide, is currently being broadcast live.

The stage was brightly lit in the center.

A veteran male singer, holding a microphone and sweating profusely, is giving his final performance.

The song he covered was "Our Love".

When the beautiful high notes of the final chorus resonated throughout the studio, all two thousand audience members stood up.

The applause was thunderous and lasted for a long time.

The four music industry heavyweights on the judging panel were beaming with excitement.

The chief judge grabbed the microphone directly.

"The lyrics, music, and arrangement of this song are simply a pinnacle of the Chinese music scene in the last decade!"

"The name 'Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze' is the savior of our time!"

"I really want to meet this genius producer!"

It's trending on Weibo.

The hashtag "#Who is Mingyue Qingfeng#" immediately jumped to number one.

The music industry's revelry and the online literature world's vile insults, under the same internet night sky, form an utterly absurd contrast.

In the basement of the old city of Jiangcheng.

Xu Qing finished the last piece of seafood.

He pulled out a tissue and wiped his mouth.

In my mind, the blue light screen of the system popped up again.

[Host, Nanfeng's fans have already found your IP address.]

They are now spreading rumors across the internet that you are an unemployed person with mental illness.

Do you need me to hack Nanfeng's live stream?

Xu Qing picked up the enamel mug on the table and took a sip of water.

"What's so black about it?"

"The IP address they found was correct to begin with."

"I do live in the basement."

The system is stuck.

But their words were so harsh; they have seriously damaged your reputation.

"I don't even have a name, so where would I get a reputation?"

Xu Qing packed up the empty takeout box and threw it into the trash can.

He sat back down at the computer and placed his hands on the keyboard.

The system went completely silent.

The system, which is usually as talkative as a chatterbox, felt extremely powerless in the face of Xu Qing's neurotic state, where he remained unmoved even when Mount Tai collapsed before him.

The comments section of the End Literature Network at this moment.

The online trolls hired by Nanfeng are still tirelessly flooding the comments with one-star reviews.

Amidst thousands of insults, a few genuine readers occasionally manage to voice their opinions.

"Did you even read the book properly?"

"When Liu Shisan passed away, my grandmother sat under the peach tree and said, 'I'm old,' which made me cry."

"This is what true family love is all about!"

But these pitiful comments were buried in less than ten seconds after they were posted.

Countless small accounts with cartoon avatars rushed up and attacked.

"Oh, another one trying to whitewash the situation."

"You can cry while reading a book like this? You must be broke too, right?"

"A poor person sympathizing with another poor person, a perfect match."

The real readers who were criticized could only helplessly leave the comments section.

Nanfeng's live stream has ended.

He turned off the computer and lay down on the large boss's chair.

He clicked on the list on the End Literature Network and glanced at it.

"There's a Small Shop by the Clouds" has been pushed to the bottom of the new book list.

The data is appalling.

Nanfeng hummed a little tune with a smug look on her face.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number of the copyright director of Xingyao Chinese Website.

"Old Liu, how's the negotiation going with the film and television adaptation rights for 'Warm Sunflower'?"

A fawning laugh came from the other end of the phone.

"Don't worry, Nanfeng. Director Wang from Huayu Film and Television has already reviewed the outline."

"Director Wang is very interested in this kind of 'rich second generation helping the poor' genre of novels."

"The initial offer is 15 million to buy out all the copyrights."

Nanfeng nodded in satisfaction.

"Okay, proceed as soon as possible."

"Right now, my book is all the rage online, making it the perfect time to sell it at a high price."

"As for that convenience store, it'll probably be shut down in the next few days from all the criticism."

In the basement.

Xu Qing had no idea what Nan Feng was doing, nor did she care.

He only cared about Liu Shisan's fate.

In the document, Liu Shisan had already arrived in the big city he had always dreamed of.

Xu Qing's fingers flew across the keyboard.

The plot then took a sharp turn for the worse.

Big cities don't have the fragrance of bellflowers.

It wasn't as wonderful as her mother had described.

Liu Shisan moved into a basement cubicle without even a window.

The room contained only a bed and a moldy wardrobe.

The sound of flushing toilets coming from next door was his alarm clock, which never stopped ringing every morning.

Holding his ordinary university diploma, he faced setbacks at the job market.

The HR person looked at his resume, didn't even glance at him, and threw it directly into a cardboard box.

He went to sell insurance to others, walking until his legs ached and talking until his lips were sore, but all he got in return was endless cold stares and ridicule.

The message my mother left on the cassette tape years ago was: "Go to work in a big city, find a girl who loves you, marry her, and live a happy life."

At this moment, it has become a huge and absurd joke.

Liu Shisan returned to his cubicle that evening and ate a discounted, nearly expired, spoiled boxed lunch from a convenience store.

He looked at the crack in the wall.

He suddenly realized that his desperate escape from Yunbian Town had only led him from a familiar quagmire into a completely different abyss.

He could barely afford a return ticket.

Every word cuts to the heart.

A brutal, unvarnished beating from reality.

Xu Qing didn't use any fancy rhetoric; it was all about extremely simple, everyday details.

He typed the last period and clicked publish.

Once this chapter is published...

Those few die-hard fans who had patiently waited for updates despite the online trolls' insults finally broke down.

Several long comments, each a few hundred words long, suddenly appeared in the comments section.

"Please stop cursing, please stop!"

"Liu Shisan is me!"

"Back then, I was the hope of the whole village. I thought that if I got into university, I could settle down in a big city."

"As a result, I now spend two hours a day crammed on the subway, live in a dark basement, and can't even find a partner."

"The author's writing is brilliant; big cities don't need ordinary people like us at all."

"I miss my grandma, I want to go back to my hometown."

In a studio apartment.

Luo Qianyu had just finished taking a bath.

She sat on the bed and read the latest chapter that Xu Qing had just updated on her phone.

Tears streamed down her cheeks in large drops.

She tore off several tissues and wiped her nose until it was red.

She looked at the overwhelming barrage of insults and abuse from online trolls in the comments section.

I switched to Weibo again and glanced at Nanfeng's hypocritical face on the trending topics list.

Luo Qianyu was completely enraged.

She wiped away her tears.

She completely ignored Sister Hong's warning from earlier that day.

She didn't care about any of the Starry Sky Group's capital.

She didn't care about the career of some obscure, unknown star.

All she knows now is that the man who wrote "Encounter" for her and treated her to fried noodles at a street food stall is being bullied by a group of people.

Luo Qianyu quickly opened Weibo.

She skillfully logged out of her verified account.

I logged into a new account with the username "Specializing in Beating Greasy Men" and no profile picture.

She clicked directly on Nanfeng's pinned Weibo post, which talked a lot about "redemption".

Luo Qianyu's fingers tapped frantically on the screen.

"You greasy guy who drives sports cars and drinks coffee every day, what do you know about redemption?!"

"Cnm."

"You dare claim to understand the lives of ordinary people after spending three days in the mountains?"

"Is that what you call poverty alleviation? You're just spending money to buy a sense of superiority!"

"Your writing is so unrealistic even a pig wouldn't read it; even leftover rice from the previous day has more nutritional value than this rubbish book!"

"What kind of skill is it to hire online trolls to smear others?"

"Let's see whose book can be remembered for a lifetime!"

Luo Qianyu typed out the message in one breath and clicked send.

She still felt unsatisfied.

She then posted a separate Weibo post on the homepage of this alternate account.

"I highly recommend 'A Small Shop by the Clouds'."

"Those who can't understand Liu Shisan, may you live in a dream forever!"

That's all for now.

Luo Qianyu took a few deep breaths before her chest heaved slightly.

She switched back to WeChat.

Find the image on the mossy stone.

Little Fish: "Don't believe those lies online."

Little Fish: "You wrote it exceptionally well, exceptionally well."

Little Fish: "I cried while watching it."

Little Fish: "Those people who insulted you are all idiots. I've already created an alternate account to insult them back for you!"