“Ah?”
Watching Jiang Ling’s hesitant look, Bai Xue frowned and simply leaned over to look at that empty profile page.
The username column read boldly:
hamburger
“Really is a hanbagya.”
Mo Ran snickered as she poked Jiang Ling’s arm, unable to stop laughing.
“Anyway, let’s just chat with the other side first, shall we?”
Seeing that everyone was pretty satisfied with this song, Jiang Ling didn’t hesitate and quickly pulled up their chat window. Bai Xue, who was already quite familiar with this, sent over a pre-edited message.
And almost the moment the message was sent, it was marked as read.
“So fast?!”
Jiang Ling was a bit surprised. After all, while the previous composers had responded promptly, none had checked the message the very instant it was sent.
Before they knew it, their delivery food had arrived. Everyone ate while waiting for a reply.
Amid the group’s eager anticipation, a message finally came from the other side—
[Not for sale.]
For a second, Jiang Ling thought she’d read it wrong.
She rubbed her eyes and stared incredulously at the blunt reply, then weakly asked Bai Xue, “This… this is a website for selling songs, right?” Why would someone post a song on their profile and then not sell it?
Bai Xue looked a bit puzzled as well. She scrolled through hamburger’s profile and double-checked that this person wasn’t some famous composer before responding to Jiang Ling.
“It is weird.”
Logically speaking, even if Bai Ming wanted to target them, he couldn’t possibly reach this far.
“Could it be a side account?”
Lin Xiaoyu, who hadn’t spoken until now, stared thoughtfully at the account: “There’s no transaction history, the username and avatar are random, and they’re online but not selling. Is it possible we’ve stumbled upon someone’s alt account?”
At this, Bai Xue nodded in understanding. “That is possible. After all, there are plenty of people who write songs under a pseudonym. Although it’s a pity, if they’re not selling, there’s nothing we can do.”
Listening to their slightly regretful voices, Jiang Ling didn’t exit the chat right away. Instead, she stared at that plain yet cute username for a while, then, almost on a whim, sent a message.
[I’m eating a hamburger.]
It was marked as read immediately.
But this time, there was no quick reply.
Just as Jiang Ling thought her random message might have bothered the other person, a photo suddenly came in. She was surprised but still tapped it open.
In the photo, a thin hand held a half-bitten hamburger, with music production software in the background and dim, shadowy lighting all around.
Then, another message. [Me too.]
Jiang Ling couldn’t help but smile, and with the excitement of chatting with an online friend, started talking to the other person through the computer.
Although she had social anxiety in real life, she was completely at ease online. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see the other person’s face, so communication felt much easier?
Just as she was chatting in a rather carefree way, Fang Wannian noticed Jiang Ling grinning at her computer, frowned, and walked over to sit down, leaning in. “What are you doing… chatting?”
Jiang Ling, who was staring at the chat log thinking about what to say next, was startled by Fang Wannian’s sudden question. She forced a laugh and waved her hand in front of the computer to block it.
“N-nothing!”
But Fang Wannian had clearly seen her hot-and-heavy chat with hamburger, and helplessly pulled Jiang Ling’s hand away. “I thought you were looking at something indecent, with a smile that suspicious.”
“Ah… it’s just because this person is interesting.”
Jiang Ling muttered, simply dropping her hand and letting Fang Wannian look at their chat record.
Their actions caught the attention of the others, so everyone ended up reading the whole conversation together.
“Really is.”
Mo Ran glanced again and offered her opinion. “The conversation is straightforward, even a bit awkward, but it’s pretty funny. By the way, how are you able to keep the chat going?”
She looked at Jiang Ling, who nodded in agreement, and naturally reached out to pinch her cheek with gentle fingers, kneading slowly. “Little social-anxiety?”
[VIP]126. Strange Composer
“Online chatting isn’t the same as talking in person…”
Jiang Ling quietly defended herself, then said with sudden realization, “Why don’t I ask why she doesn’t want to sell her song?”
“Go ahead.”
Bai Xue nodded immediately in agreement.
She wanted to know too—was it Bai Ming’s pressure, or some other reason, that made this composer refuse to sell them the song?
If it was the former, there was nothing Bai Xue could do. But if it was the latter…
Getting the green light, Jiang Ling immediately typed out a message.
[But why won’t you sell us the song?]
After sending it, Jiang Ling anxiously searched through the default emoji pack, finally picking a teary-eyed little cat to send over.
“Pfft, that looks pretty cute.”
Mo Ran covered her mouth and laughed softly, while Jiang Ling replied in all seriousness, “I think she’s a girl. If I’m right, maybe she’ll tell me since I look so pitiful.”
That photo earlier, she’d examined it over and over and found the hand holding the hamburger to be small and delicate, so she guessed the person was a girl.
But after sending her question, the always-quick-to-read “she” suddenly vanished, with no further replies.
After waiting about ten minutes with no sign of the message being read, Jiang Ling slumped in defeat, even sighing heavily.
“It’s okay, don’t be discouraged.”
…Mo Ran patted her on the shoulder to comfort her, and Fang Wannian took out her phone. “I can contact my family. Even though I don’t know many people in this field, if we have to, I’m sure I could find someone.”
“Want this?”
Lin Xiaoyu pointed at the chicken nuggets Jiang Ling hadn’t even unwrapped.
“Of course I do!”
Jiang Ling instantly straightened up and protectively grabbed the precious nuggets, opening the pack and eating them while mumbling, “It’s just, I’m worried… did she not like my emoji? Did I say something wrong?”
Watching her spiral into self-doubt, Bai Xue calmly closed her laptop, blocking Jiang Ling’s line of sight.
“Let’s just finish eating first. We don’t have to get her song.”
Although she said so, Jiang Ling suddenly found her food tasteless. Even her favorite dessert seemed bland, and she listlessly stirred it with her spoon, looking completely uninterested.
Was it really the emoji’s fault?!
Seeing Jiang Ling’s lack of appetite, Bai Xue smiled ever so faintly. “Stop worrying about it. Worst case, just ask someone else.”
“No way! If she doesn’t reply, I won’t be able to sleep tonight!”
Jiang Ling shook her head resolutely.
Mo Ran sighed, “Ha… then just ask her?”
“No! I don’t want to look too eager, that’ll make me seem weird!”
“Let’s just eat.”
…Lin Xiaoyu seriously opened the lid of her spicy hot pot.
Ever since she tried the super spicy hot pot last time, Lin Xiaoyu had fallen in love and ordered it regularly.
“Even more impossible! My head’s full of this, I can’t eat at all… mmph—”
Jiang Ling’s rambling was cut off by Fang Wannian stuffing a French fry into her mouth.
“If nothing’s possible, then why do you talk so much!”
Fang Wannian pulled her hand back, licked the bit of ketchup left on her finger with a practiced movement, and looked down, hiding the action.
Jiang Ling remained restless through the entire meal.
And almost as soon as they finished cleaning up, Jiang Ling impatiently turned on the computer, pulling Bai Xue’s finger to unlock it with her fingerprint.
“My birthday is the password.”
Bai Xue smiled at her, then leaned in to whisper in Jiang Ling’s ear, “Pop quiz—what’s my birthday?”
“November 7th…”
Jiang Ling felt a bit ticklish and shrank her neck.
“So good.”
Bai Xue seemed satisfied, curving her lips as she got up, brushing lightly past Jiang Ling’s earlobe as if by accident.
Half of Jiang Ling’s body went numb, and she shivered involuntarily, glancing at the obviously cheerful Bai Xue, but managed to endure it.
The urgent task now was to get a reply from hamburger! She reopened the previously closed website, quickly typed in hamburger’s name, and pulled up their chat window again.
About forty minutes had passed since her last message.
“Hey, it’s been read!”
Jiang Ling stared at the “read” notification, both excited and nervous, eyes glued to the screen for fear of missing a single word.
As she grew increasingly tense, a new message popped up on the screen.
[Because right now, I don’t want to sell my songs to anyone.]
Seeing that message, Bai Xue finally relaxed a little.
Since it was “anyone,” that meant the composer wasn’t excluding them specifically, and at the same time, she had a song that satisfied everyone.
That made things a bit simpler.
“Ask her why,” Bai Xue said, bumping Jiang Ling with her shoulder.
But Jiang Ling immediately shook her head, waving her hands, “No way…”
“What if I accidentally ask something I shouldn’t?”
Bai Xue and Mo Ran exchanged glances but said nothing more. Fang Wannian, however, immediately grabbed the computer.
“Then I’ll ask.”
So Jiang Ling watched helplessly as Fang Wannian typed out a question with determined fingers, her own face looking conflicted…
Wouldn’t this be way too direct? Oh no, oh no…
Jiang Ling could already picture the other person getting annoyed and blocking her.
But to her surprise, hamburger replied fairly quickly this time—though what she said left everyone baffled—
[Because no one likes my songs.]
“That’s impossible.”
Jiang Ling was the first to object. “I don’t know much about music, but I think her song sounds great.”
“Maybe she just lacks confidence.”
Mo Ran scrolled through the handful of posts on hamburger’s page and gestured for Fang Wannian to keep praising her. “Try complimenting her?”
Hearing this, Fang Wannian wrote a heartfelt compliment, even adding that she would be very happy to work together.
Once again, a quick but puzzling reply.
[My songs are different from others. Even if you bought them, no one would like them. Don’t buy them… Thank you to the friend who ate hamburgers with me today. I was really happy, but I have to go write songs now. Bye.]
Reading this, Jiang Ling frowned deeply.
She could sense that the other person wasn’t rejecting them on purpose, but was honestly telling them that her own songs weren’t good enough, and expressing gratitude.
“She’s really strange.”
Fang Wannian, hugging the laptop, was just as confused. “She says her songs are different and refuses to let us buy them, but right after eating she goes back to composing. Doesn’t seem like she’s insecure or hates music—maybe she’s just obsessed?”
“Then why still refuse us?”
Silence fell over the room.
The answer, it seemed, was only known to the person who’d logged off so quickly.
“Alright, let’s leave it for now,” Bai Xue said, taking the laptop and not insisting any further.
After all, their time wasn’t unlimited. It was a pity to miss out on this song, but they could only move on to the next.
Yet for Jiang Ling, it felt like a thorn stuck in her heart.
That night, she tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.
Thank goodness Lin Xiaoyu was a deep sleeper, or else she would have been kicked out of the room.
Patting her chest in comfort, Jiang Ling’s mind kept replaying her chat with that person from earlier.
She didn’t know why, but she felt an indescribable sadness from their last conversation.
So much so that Jiang Ling carefully picked up her charging phone, dimmed the screen to the lowest brightness, and slowly inched away from Lin Xiaoyu, afraid of waking her up.
She opened the app again, found hamburger’s profile, hesitated a long time, then finally sent a short message.
[Want to eat hamburgers together?]
And as soon as she sent it, she regretted it. Damn it, what was she even thinking?
Who sends a random stranger an invitation to eat, in the middle of the night, especially when the other person has switched accounts? Who would say yes to such a weird request?
[Okay.]
Jiang Ling fell silent.
Was there really someone out there as crazy as her?!
The other’s prompt, definite reply left her head buzzing. After a long moment, she managed to compose herself and ask again.
[Why didn’t you ask who I am? Also, if we’re not in the same city, how do we eat together?]
A quick reply.
[This account doesn’t get many messages. You’re the one who ate hamburgers with me today. I checked your IP, same city. If not, we can eat together online.]
Reading such a thorough answer, Jiang Ling couldn’t help but gasp.
So… detailed.
It was only now that she realized—was this…
An online meetup with an internet friend?
And they’d only known each other for a day, with no idea what the other person was really like?!
Only now did Jiang Ling’s alarm bells start ringing.
Just before, she’d acted purely on impulse, not even considering her own safety! Her hands shook as she gripped her phone and closed her eyes, already picturing the worst-case scenario of being kidnapped and waking up minus a kidney.
Just as she was about to politely back out of her own invitation, another message came through.
[Are you scared?]
[Uh, honestly, yes.]
After Jiang Ling’s helplessly honest reply, the other side was briefly silent.
She felt even more uneasy and was about to put her phone away when a photo came in.
In the picture, the background was the same music software as the previous hamburger shot. In the center was a sweet-faced girl.
Deep purple hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a simple loose T-shirt covered in messy doodles, and hugged her pale, slender legs in a shy pose, as if squatting on her chair. She held a crumpled hamburger wrapper, her eyes reflecting the glow of the phone as she looked at the camera.
Then came a message.
[Are you still scared now?]