Chapter 6
Joy That I Return Has a Time Limit（06）
Chapter Six
After finishing her morning diction class, Mu He was preparing to go have lunch when Tan Mian rushed over breathlessly, pulling her into a corner: “Teacher Mu, you’re trending on Weibo again!”
Although she wasn’t an internet celebrity, trending too often could ruin her reputation among casual fans. But Mu He currently lacked exposure and a fanbase. Besides, a free trending spot is too good to pass up.
Tan Mian had never experienced such a windfall before and was dazed: “This morning you had 440,000 followers, now it’s up to 600,000! And with a new trending topic boosting you, the growth is insane!”
She excitedly handed over her phone: “Teacher Mu, look, you’re trending third.”
Mu He took it and saw the entry #MuHeSmallWaistFairy#. She clicked on it and saw a short video.
Tan Mian, impatient, reached first and played it.
The video lasted only twelve seconds. After watching, Mu He couldn’t help but smile faintly; if she hadn’t seen it, she would have forgotten the whole thing.
Tan Mian chuckled: “Never underestimate the power of star-chasing girls.”
Once they focused, was there anything even an archaeological-girl-with-a-microscope couldn’t dig up?
Here’s what happened: the new Mu He fans, after collectively driving the troublemaking Keke fans out of the comment section, thoroughly scoured Mu He’s Weibo. There were only about a hundred posts, only one with a selfie—far from satisfying their burning curiosity. So they decided to produce content themselves, hunting for all news about Mu He.
Cut after cut from her roles since debut, collecting everything!
Soon, the fans realized that besides acting, Mu He’s other information was scarce. That was too much—they’d been in the industry for two years, yet no magazines, interviews, or street shots, wasting a face so stunning it defied reality.
Who else would pamper their idol if not them?
Finally, a sharp-eyed fan spotted Mu He in a video of fans meeting the popular actress Qin Zhi at the airport. She was standing slightly aside, showing none of the self-consciousness of a star—hat and sunglasses on, no makeup, wearing a light green floral dress, the fitted design accentuating her slim waist, barely a handful.
She kept a bit of distance from Qin Zhi. When a girl in front was pushed aside, her phone fell at Mu He’s feet. She bent to pick it up, returned it with a smile, and said something to the girl.
To avoid being accused of riding Qin Zhi’s (Zhi Zhi fans’) fame, the Mu He fans only cut out clips involving her. Posting it on Weibo unexpectedly triggered another wave of attention.
“Following the trend to admire unparalleled beauty.”
“Ahhh JC uncle, this woman wants to kill me with her beauty!”
“Even if the camera is blurry, it can’t hide her delicate and unmatched appearance.”
“Sexy little waist fairy online. I won’t let you miss seeing this waist—look at it to your heart’s content!”
“Oh my, this waist is perfect! I’d gladly die on it ten thousand times!”
“Don’t sexualize!”
“Full of youthful charm, a definite little waist fairy.”
“Envy makes me crumble, jealousy makes me unrecognizable!”
“As a senior member of the ‘Abdominal Sorrow’ alliance, I quietly put down my braised pig’s trotters and shed tears of regret [crying emoji].”
…
Fan Moon Girl 007: “Ahhhh I’m going crazy! It was this lady who helped me pick up my phone. She even told me to be careful. She’s so kind and speaks so gently. I didn’t even get a chance to thank her before she left…”
Fan Moon Girl 007: “Please, everyone help me boost this comment, thank you thank you [hands together emoji].”
With everyone’s help, her comment stood out among the flood of “small waist fairy” remarks, topping the trending comments. The Mu He fans were proud but also a bit heartbroken.
“5555 she had so many fans at the airport, all bustling, while she was completely alone. Just thinking about it makes me sad.”
“Damn, stop talking, I’m crying so loudly!”
“My heart hurts so much, I wish I could soul travel and give her a hug [sad emoji].”
“I declare, I’ll catch all her flights from now on!”
“Take me too.”
“Sign me up!”
The Mu He fans immediately formed the Mu He National Fan Support Association. After internal discussions, they unanimously decided everyone must know: from now on, this woman is ours to pamper.
They elected a president: Yang Le Duo, a sophomore girl. Though her fan experience was limited, she was skilled at photo editing, voting, chart climbing, and anti-trolling.
The Mu He fans now had organization and a sense of belonging.
Although Mu He’s trending only reached third, it attracted many new fans. The spontaneously created hashtags #MostBeautifulAncientStyleMuHe# and #MuHeSmallWaistFairy# also solved the branding problem troubling Ye Xi.
Tan Mian immediately reported the good news to Ye Xi. Seeing the fan count skyrocket with each refresh, she smiled brighter than the sun outside: “Teacher Mu, I have a bold request.”
Even Mu He, calm and composed, couldn’t help but get swept up in this pleasant surprise, pausing: “…What?”
Tan Mian laughed and hugged her, feeling personally: “Wow, really delicate.”
Truly a little waist fairy.
Mu He could only laugh and cry at the same time.
***
In the afternoon, the autumn sun shone brilliantly, spilling freely.
On the outskirts of City A, a private mountain villa sprawled over a vast area, mountains and water surrounding it. The scenery was excellent: thirty-six independent villas, arranged according to Feng Shui principles, staggered in height. Every brick and tile exuded wealth and prestige.
The villa used a high-end membership system. Only top-tier nobles and celebrities could enter. It was widely rumored that last year, a Middle Eastern oil tycoon’s private visit to China was hosted here.
In VIP room 9, on the third floor, the lighting was dim, the atmosphere ambiguous. Couples embraced or kissed; some sat around tables playing poker. In the center was a young, slender man. Draped over him was a woman with a supple, snake-like waist, her body pressing against him like she had no bones: “Middle Young Master.”
From everyone’s deference and the women’s appearance, there was no doubt—he was the highest-ranking person present.
Huo Zhong enjoyed the beauties in his arms. Just as his hand touched, a woman screamed, ruining the mood. He frowned, instantly losing interest, pushing her aside roughly, grabbing a glass of red wine from the table and drinking it all at once.
“Middle Young Master…” the woman shrank pitifully, pointing toward the door, “It looks like someone is there.”
Huo Zhong didn’t hear her clearly. He grabbed another woman’s chin nearby and continued. Yet others seemed to notice, stopping their chatter and looking toward the door.
In the dim light, only a flash of crimson flickered. On closer inspection, they realized someone stood by the door, partially hidden in shadow. Without the red glow, no one would have known someone was there.
Who was he, and when did he appear?
“Bang”—the main light in the room turned on, leaving no room for anyone’s shocked expressions to hide. The man was fully exposed. Dressed in black, leaning against the door, his features deep and sharp, eyebrows cold. A cigarette rested between his long fingers, half-burnt. White smoke curled around him as he observed them with calm, unfathomable eyes.
Everyone exchanged astonished looks. Smoke? Really smoke?
!
They only got access to this private villa thanks to Huo Zhong’s influence. On the way from the entrance to the VIP room, all they had seen were strict “No Smoking” signs.
The strict rules meant one violation led to permanent blacklisting, effectively removing them from high society.
So who was this man, appearing silently in the VIP room, openly defying and challenging the villa’s rules?
All eyes turned to Huo Zhong, who was glaring at the newcomer, his eyes swirling with complex emotions.
Everyone’s gaze returned to the mysterious, dangerous stranger. He walked directly toward Huo Zhong. Those next to Huo Zhong wisely gave him space. He didn’t sit in a chair but directly on the table. His long fingers tapped the edge of Huo Zhong’s glass. Ash fell into the red wine, diffusing with a visual allure.
He finally looked Huo Zhong in the eye, voice deep and slightly absent-minded: “Surprised to see me?”
Huo Zhong didn’t doubt the truth of those words in the slightest. The two had clashed in secret several times, and he had lost each time. His Southeast Asian business was already disrupted—now someone wanted to cut off his other financial channels?
Huo Zhong’s face darkened to the extreme, veins bulging on his neck: “Are you threatening me?”
Huo Heng flicked the cigarette butt into the glass and sneered: “I thought it was obvious enough.”
After saying this, he stood up and walked out.
Huo Zhong stared at his back, recalling his father saying that Huo Heng had already received grandpa’s approval and begun taking over the family’s core affairs. Seeing him publicly humiliate Huo Zhong in front of friends, and speak threats to boot, his hatred intensified. Gritting his teeth, he spat out two words through clenched jaws: “Bastard.”
The man by the door suddenly stopped. Huo Zhong didn’t have time to react before a fierce, killing-cold wind swept his face, followed by a sharp sting on his lips.
The snake-waist woman screamed in fright. Dozens of eyes simultaneously focused on Huo Zhong’s blood-drained face. Something sharp had cut into his philtrum, and blood seeped slowly, running from the center of his lips to his chin. With his lips pressed into a straight line, it resembled a cross, chilling to look at.
This sudden change happened in the blink of an eye; they hadn’t even seen what weapon had been used. Yet when they turned to the door in shock, the tall figure had already vanished.
The snake-waist woman’s hands trembled as she picked up a playing card from the floor, the edge stained with blood—the 2 of hearts from the deck they had been using.
She sat closest to Huo Zhong and naturally heard him curse “bastard,” but never imagined that the man would use a playing card as a blade, returning precise retaliation to Huo Zhong’s verbal disrespect without even turning his head.
Truly… terrifying.
Huo Heng emerged from the VIP room. Zhang Chang, waiting outside, walked over. Seeing him rubbing his brow with a fatigued expression, he said with concern: “Young Master Heng, the sleeping pills from last time are all used up. I’ll go to Dr. Liang later to get more.”
“No need.”
Zhang Chang sighed faintly behind him. When would this insomnia ever be cured? If it continued, it could eventually lead to sudden death.
After two in the morning, Huo Heng returned to his residence at Jinyue Bay. Entering the bedroom, he saw the person on the bed was already fast asleep. After a while, he went over, sitting on the carpet by the bedside, bending his left knee and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt with one hand.
His head leaned slowly toward the bed. As he moved, the line of his neck tensed, the Adam’s apple prominent, sculpted like charcoal strokes.
Yet his posture was unprecedentedly relaxed, leisurely.
A faint fragrance filled the air, fresh and pleasant. He turned his face to the side; the blue-gray blanket rose in a mound. That face was fair as jade, exquisitely carved, his sleeping expression serene as always.
Huo Heng closed his eyes, sinking into darkness.
Perhaps, he had already found the best sleeping aid.