It was a trap!
Hua Hualong instantly realized he had fallen into a trap.
She knew she was a despicable, shameless, lowly scumbag, but she hadn’t expected someone in that QQ group chat to be even more shameless than she was.
It all started a week ago…
…
[One Morning, One Week Ago]
At that moment, Hua Hualong was internally breaking down.
He had just installed QQ, and as someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder, he was terrified of software like QQ or 360 that, once installed, brought along a bunch of extra, unwanted programs.
So when a “friend” asked him to install QQ, he actually refused.
You can’t just tell him to install it and expect him to comply right away—he wanted to search online for a portable, ad-free, “greenified” version of QQ.
In this age overflowing with ads—this era where people have to harm each other just to survive—websites have thought of a thousand ways to screw users over.
Five minutes later… Hua Hualong started to feel unwell all over.
Wasn’t it already mentioned that he was mentally breaking down?
Why is he just feeling “unwell” now?
That’s because this OCD sufferer’s computer had gotten infected.
He had downloaded a file named “QQ8.2 Greenified Version.rar,”
but upon opening it, he discovered the full file name was actually “QQ8.2 Greenified Version.rar.exe.”
The moment a bizarre installation progress bar popped up, he quickly opened Task Manager to try to kill the process—but it was too late.
His desktop was already flooded with a bunch of junk software.
One funny thing, though: that “QQ8.2 Greenified Version.rar.exe” file actually did install a version of QQ.
So was it “Download QQ, get a virus” or “Download a virus, get QQ for free”?
These days, even QQ and viruses come bundled together?
As someone with OCD, he was utterly undone.
He backed up his important files and began reinstalling the operating system.
That’s when something truly bizarre happened—after the clean install, the QQ icon still appeared on the desktop.
That little penguin’s eyes looked like they were casting some kind of mocking spell, staring right at him.
At this point, Hua Hualong had no choice but to use his ultimate weapon: 360 Antivirus!
Even if both sides were destroyed in the process, he had to take that penguin down!
But reality was even more cruel… even 360 couldn’t get rid of the penguin performing its mocking spell.
The uninstall list didn’t show QQ at all, and even right-clicking the desktop icon gave no directory path—everything was blank.
Even 360’s final trump card, the “File Shredder,” couldn’t touch the penguin icon, reporting “No permission to operate.”
Can you believe that?
Not even 360 has permission?
Is that even scientifically possible?
At this point, Hua Hualong was mentally collapsing again.
This was no longer a question of whether or not to use QQ—it was a matter of how to uninstall it.
And the situation wasn’t resolved the next day either.
He tried everything, even formatting the hard drive, but nothing could eliminate the penguin.
While he did marvel at the virus creator’s skill, it completely broke him.
In the end, he called a professional technician for help.
Up to this point, everything was still within the realm of science.
But what happened next could only be explained by magic.
The technician didn’t see the QQ icon on the desktop.
Seriously! Not kidding! The technician even reinstalled the system using a CD and confirmed 100% that QQ was not on the computer.
So was Hua Hualong hallucinating?
Impossible! The penguin was still mocking him from the desktop, right in front of him.
How could that be a hallucination?
He double-clicked the penguin icon and launched QQ.
It actually ran and brought up the login screen.
Yet the technician still claimed there was nothing on the desktop, even suspecting that this guy was either performing some kind of abstract art or practicing for an Oscar-winning role.
At this point, Hua Hualong knew something was seriously wrong.
He picked up the phone, dialed a number, said a few things, and hung up.
Half an hour later, a fat guy showed up.
That was his only remaining friend—or rather, the only one who could still be called a friend: Li Dajiang.
“Dajiang, I’m not too good with QQ. Teach me how to use it. Try logging in with your account.”
“Damn! You called me over just for this? I thought something serious happened!” Li Dajiang looked slightly annoyed.
Though he grumbled, he still started typing his QQ username and password.
He was a bit puzzled, though—why was Hua Hualong so helpfully moving the mouse to switch the password field for him, saving him from pressing TAB himself?
“Damn! You called me over just for this? I thought it was something important!”
Li Dajiang showed a trace of annoyance on his face.
Although he complained, he still started typing in his QQ username and password.
He just found it a bit strange that Hua Hualong was being so considerate—moving the mouse to switch the password field for him, saving him the effort of pressing the TAB key.
Of course, he had no idea that Hua Hualong was setting him up.
While the chubby guy was looking down at the keyboard entering his credentials, the smiling Hua Hualong quickly switched from the newly installed official version of QQ to that strange “8.2 greenified version” QQ.
In other words, Li Dajiang wasn’t entering his credentials into Tencent’s official QQ—but into the suspicious QQ 8.2 greenified version.
Hua Hualong wasn’t dumb enough to log into a clearly unscientific version of QQ himself.
That’s what friends are for—to test things out.
It was the perfect opportunity to see what would happen upon logging in.
But nothing happened.
Li Dajiang couldn’t see the QQ 8.2 greenified version, so from his perspective, there was only the normal QQ login screen on the desktop.
He had no idea he had already logged into the strange version.
Although he felt something was a bit off, he still logged into the official Tencent QQ again just in case.
To make his act more convincing, Hua Hualong kept asking questions about various QQ features, pretending he didn’t know how to use the software.
Just look at that performance—so real it could fool anyone.
The Oscars owed him a trophy!
And that was the end of that—for the time being.
He certainly didn’t rush to use that unscientific 8.2 greenified version of QQ.
Instead, he called Li Dajiang every day, asking about his health and whether his QQ account was behaving normally.
This went on for a week.
Everything was calm—nothing strange happened.
On the eighth day, seeing that nothing had gone wrong, Hua Hualong finally decided it was time to start exploring this weird piece of software.
First, he registered a brand-new QQ account.
Then, cautiously, he clicked the login button.
The main interface appeared almost instantly—no loading time at all.
In a way, “QQ8.2_greenified_version.rar.exe” was pretty honest.
It really didn’t have any ads.
The interface was clean and sleek—very easy on the eyes.
Suddenly, QQ made a coughing sound.
He clicked on the notification.
[You’re now a member of the group—go say hi to everyone!]
“Hamster Squad”—what the hell was that? That was the name of the group.
But Hua Hualong didn’t remember ever joining any QQ group.
This account had just been created, after all!
It’s a trap!
XDDDDDD