Chapter 140: One Player Missing

“Hehehe.” Yin Lin couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

A single glance was all it took to understand what had happened—obviously, Luye had given her a good lesson in love.

Right now, Xia Shiyao was dressed in a hospital gown, her exposed skin covered with a dense pattern of red marks, even her neck bore traces of them.

Yin Lin suddenly lifted her shirt for a better look, and though Xia Shiyao immediately tried to stop her, she still managed to get a general idea.

There was a petal-shaped welt on her back. She couldn’t tell what kind of petal it was this time, but it actually looked quite nice.

Yin Lin just couldn’t hold it in and bent over, laughing out loud.

She couldn’t help picturing that high-and-mighty Jin Luan being thrashed by Luye like a naughty child.

It really was hilarious.

“You dare laugh!” Xia Shiyao looked furious, grabbing the glass on the bedside and throwing it at her.

Yin Lin dodged it with ease, and the glass smashed to pieces on the floor.

“Sorry, but it really is too funny, ha~” Yin Lin continued laughing out loud, dodging several more flying objects thrown her way.

After all, Jin Luan had bullied her before—slapped her, even lifted her skirt.

Now that Jin Luan had gotten a beating, Yin Lin was naturally delighted, feeling like her great vengeance had been served.

Song Wuli didn’t want to bicker with his little sister, but if someone else was giving Jin Luan a hard time, of course he’d join in and mock her.

Xia Shiyao tried to get up from the bed to teach Yin Lin a lesson, but she was so weak she ended up collapsing toward the edge of the bed where Yin Lin was standing.

Yin Lin quickly sidestepped, taking a step back, letting Xia Shiyao fall right onto the floor.

“You! Why did you dodge?” Xia Shiyao lay on the ground, grimacing in pain.

“Reflex.” Yin Lin answered honestly.

It really was just a reflex. When something comes at you, you naturally dodge.

She’d thought Yin Lin’s visit would make her feel a bit better, but now she was just getting angrier.

Yin Lin even took out her phone, snapping a bunch of photos to send to the Gold-Silver-Red Sisters group chat so Huan Hong could have a laugh too.

Sure enough, when that woman saw that Jin Luan had run into trouble, she was so delighted she even got up in the middle of the night for a snack.

When one is down, the rest cheer from all sides—truly, that’s what it means to be sisters.

Seeing that Xia Shiyao wasn’t seriously hurt, that she could still talk and move, Yin Lin decided not to stay any longer and prepared to head home for a good sleep.

“Wait, aren’t you going to comfort me at all?” Was Xia Shiyao trying to act cute now?

“You need comfort for something like this?” Yin Lin shot back.

“Then I hope you’re next to get caught.” Xia Shiyao replied, a little venomously.

“Huh? Don’t lump me in with you two small fry, alright?” Though Yin Lin said that, sweat was already breaking out on her forehead as she continued, “Even if you two work your whole lives, you still wouldn’t be my match. The gap in our talent is just that big.”

Even Old Song himself thought that sounded like a FLAG and that he shouldn’t say anything more, in case it really came true.

But, keeping up Yin Lin’s persona seemed more important—no way could anything actually happen.

Of course, Xia Shiyao was infuriated again, crawling back onto the bed: “Just you wait. The day Luye catches you and you’re begging for mercy in tears, I’ll be right there cheering Luye on, taking a hundred photos from every angle.”

Yin Lin: “Are you kidding me? My level versus Luye’s? I’ve killed cadre-level aberrants—what is Luye? Who has she ever killed? With that kind of small fry, she’s not even close to being my opponent.”

She held her head high, full of pride.

Marching out of the hospital room with swagger, she left the place behind.

Ten minutes later, Song Wuli was at home, rummaging through drawers and cabinets.

By now, he was sweating profusely, and he laid everything he found out on the table.

Fruit Knife, Utility Knife, Claw Hammer. He organized them neatly, packing them into his backpack to carry with him.

Tomorrow, he’d have to check out the mall and see if they had any Taser Guns, Stun Batons, or Pepper Spray.

Even though he talked tough when chatting with Xia Shiyao, truthfully, he was absolutely terrified of Luye.

He was scared of being beaten back into his true form and having his identity exposed. He was also scared of being caught and getting whipped.

Getting caught and whipped by a girl—just thinking about it was humiliating; his self-esteem would never recover.

That kind of thing absolutely could not be allowed to happen!

With that in mind, he went to bed and somehow made it through the night.

Shouldering a heavy backpack, he headed out early. He checked the supermarket first, but they didn’t sell Pepper Spray or Stun Batons.

Looks like he’d have to try the mall. There were quite a few self-defense shops around these days.

First thing in the morning, he went to the office. Most of the people in Copywriting Group Two were already there—even that out-of-district woman, Greta, had clocked in and was getting ready for work at her desk.

“Good morning, sir.” Greta suddenly greeted him in English.

It took Song Wuli a moment to react, then he replied, “Good morning.”

He felt like Greta was in a particularly good mood today, an irrepressible, faint smile on her face as she worked, radiating happiness.

“What’s up with you today? Did something good happen?” Song Wuli walked past her, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Yes, yesterday I ran into an Idol I used to really admire.” Greta seemed to know quite a few terms, though the word ‘Idol’ wasn’t often used in this region—people here usually said ‘celebrity’.

“Wow, an Idol?” Song Wuli didn’t correct her and just followed along, “What kind of Idol? An Underground Idol or a mainstream, public one?” He sat down at the team leader’s desk, put down his backpack, and the sound of metal clinking could be heard.

Greta, still in high spirits, didn’t seem to notice the detail and replied, “A very famous Underground Idol. I’ve liked her for a long time. She’s so beautiful, cold, always up on a pedestal.”

It sounded a bit odd, the way she described it.

Song Wuli pictured Jin Luan for a moment, but the thought quickly faded—he knew Greta couldn’t possibly be talking about Jin Luan. Jin Luan wasn’t an Underground Idol, and besides, Greta and Jin Luan had nothing to do with each other.

Casually, Song Wuli asked, “Did you get to hold her hand? Get her autograph?”

Greta nodded. “Mm, I touched her. No matter how cold a person seems, when you touch them, they’re always warm.”

What a strange way to put it, but Song Wuli didn’t think too much of it. He hid his backpack away and stowed it at his desk.

He glanced at the woman and noticed she was supporting her waist, moving stiffly when she turned.

So he asked, “Are you hurt? Your waist doesn’t look like it’s moving well.”

Greta replied, “Yes, I played too hard yesterday.”

Song Wuli: “Want to take the day off?”

Greta: “No need, I can work.”

And so, a new day at work began.

Ten minutes later, Song Wuli suddenly received a message from Greta: [Mr. Song, is it okay if I work overtime more these days? I’d like to leave work early or take a day off soon, so I want to make up for it by working more now.]

Huh? Why would she ask that?

Song Wuli originally wanted to refuse and explain to her about how compensatory time off worked, but after thinking about it, he decided not to be so official.

He asked, [Do you have something important you need time off for?]

Greta replied, [There’s an Idol I absolutely have to go see.]

Song Wuli asked again, [In principle, you can’t take leave for something like that.]

It was a gentle way of refusing. After a long while, Greta sent another message: [This Idol brought me a ray of hope when I was at my lowest, when I’d lost all faith. She revived my passion for life. She’s like a goddess to me. No matter what, I have to go see her.]

Hm? A woman? What kind of female Idol could attract so many fans?

He thought for a moment, considering Greta’s infectious words—she’d described it as something truly serious.

In the end, Song Wuli half-agreed, telling her that they’d talk about the specific details of taking leave when the time came.

He could feel from her words just how much Greta longed for that female Idol. It was almost like the devotion of a religious believer—this must be something truly important to her.