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"Undeserved disaster, an undeserved disaster!"

By the sunny roadside, Wang Zhuo and Fatty Long, Jin Chengyou, sat in front of a roadside breakfast stall. Fatty Long was continually lamenting his grievances.

"Instructor Wang, tell me, am I miserable or not? I was nearly defiled by those old cons!"

"You’re still laughing? Come on, big brother, have some sympathy, okay?"

"Look at all these welts all over me! Those mosquitoes treated me like an all-you-can-eat buffet!"

Never mind how the police are often portrayed in the news or on screen as intellectually dull, low-level, and incompetent, in reality, things are completely different. There are no cases the police can't solve, only police who aren't serious.

Jin Chengyou had just witnessed the true power of a serious police force. Four hours after Wang Zhuo escaped the Red House on that stormy night a few days ago, a squad of fully armed special police arrived at Wang Zhuo’s residence in Xuhui District.

Employing a strategy of overwhelming manpower, the Dongjiang police quickly confirmed Wang Zhuo's identity, then rapidly gathered all information regarding his locations, network of contacts, and so forth. After confirming Wang Zhuo's financial status, the police immediately searched Jiangzhou’s property records and soon located Wang Zhuo's recent home purchase filings. Then, a sudden raid was launched.

Fatty Long was on the balcony at the time, sketching from screenshots of some Japanese adult film, when someone descended from above on a wire, looking like a participant in a live-action shooting game—hooded, wearing bulletproof vests and assault gear, carrying submachine guns and tear gas... Good heavens, were they filming a movie?

The situation was the same in the other rooms; the front door was simultaneously breached by officers. Afterward, the police put on a grand performance of capturing a major fugitive for Jin Chengyou and Qiu Lu. Unfortunately, they only managed to subdue the two unrelated bystanders; they didn't even catch a glimpse of Wang Zhuo.

However, they took Wang Zhuo's cup, as it could yield fingerprints, and they also seized a pair of Wang Zhuo's worn underwear, which Fatty Long guessed was for the police dogs. In addition to these, the police used tweezers to collect a few flakes of skin and a curled, unidentified hair from Wang Zhuo’s [redacted]—likely for DNA identification.

Beyond these items, the police didn't spare Fatty Long and Qiu Lu. Without asking any questions, they were hauled back to the station and subjected to interrogations involving many nonsensical questions. Just as several officers were beginning to lose patience and prepared to beat the stubbornly silent Fatty Long and the rambling Qiu Lu, a phone call—presumably from some important leader—came in. The station immediately ceased the questioning, tossed the two into a room, and treated them as if they didn't exist.

Fortunately, they still had a shred of decency; they asked Qiu Lu for some money and arranged to buy boxed meals for the two of them periodically. Qiu Lu was released after being detained for twenty-four hours, but Fatty Long was temporarily held for illegal possession of espionage equipment. It wasn't until Xiao Wanjun made a phone call that the Public Security Sub-bureau finally relented, issued them a stern lecture, and released him.

Fatty Long was devouring his breakfast while tearfully detailing his injustices. Wang Zhuo found it hard not to laugh, truly helpless when dealing with him.

"Alright, alright, this is all my fault. Tell me, what compensation do you want?"

Fatty Long finally achieved his objective and quickly blurted out, "Take me with you next time you go stone gambling!"

Although the fat man looked like he was made entirely of useless flesh, he was actually quite astute. Wang Zhuo had recently bought a car and a house; the standard of his living—food, clothing, housing, and transport—had all been elevated. Even his computer was top-of-the-line. Envious, he had long set his sights on something.

This request gave Wang Zhuo a slight headache, but he quickly rationalized it: the worst that could happen was taking him along on the next stone-gambling trip and letting him skim some of the profit. After all, they were buddies; what harm was there in pulling him up a bit? It was a small effort.

Seeing Wang Zhuo nod in agreement, Fatty Long was immediately overjoyed and pushed his luck further: "Wang Zhuo, our school is having a freshman mixer dance in a few days. Can I borrow your Q7?"

Wang Zhuo shot him a look that clearly expressed displeasure. To be honest, he was quite fond of the car himself and was reluctant to lend it out after only driving it for a few days. However, when he went to the 4S dealership to pick it up a few days prior, he had glimpsed an Audi R8...

If he were back in his hometown, the Q7 would be the undisputed king of the road—high chassis, spacious interior, imposing size. But in Jiangzhou, this sprawling metropolis with its flat, open roads, a tall, long-legged SUV looked somewhat out of place. In contrast, a low-slung R8 sports car exuded a far superior aura.

"Let’s get one thing straight, you can borrow the car, but no car sex."

"Don't worry about that. I'll finish outside the car and then get in, okay?" After stating his vow, Fatty Long changed his tone and grinned slyly, "You, little buddy, confess honestly. Did you finally get with Gan Lin?"

Wang Zhuo coughed and looked around as if nothing was wrong.

Fatty Long pointed at him, "Not denying it means you admit it. Admitting it means it’s true!"

Wang Zhuo was so prompted by the topic that he recalled the lingering intimacy of those two nights, involuntarily showing a faint smile.

Fatty Long was momentarily speechless, saying sourly, "What a pity. With such a vast forest in Jiangzhou, some people cling to a single tree right after arriving."

This was just the sound of sour grapes. Wang Zhuo didn't bother to engage.

...

Regarding the series of incidents involving Huihai, Dongjiang, and the Red House, the surface appearance suggested they had temporarily passed, but in reality, things were far from the calm they presented.

In classrooms, cafeterias, on the courts, and in the library, everywhere Wang Zhuo went, he felt the curious gazes of others.

While it hadn't reached the level of being mobbed, being approached several times a day by unfamiliar classmates or faculty members was common. Several girls had even secretly taken photos of him and posted them online.

Wang Zhuo continued his usual routine. He knew he was famous, his popularity rivaling that of minor, semi-successful celebrities. He was aware of the things circulating about him online; some people had even formed fan clubs and fan societies dedicated to him. These groups had already engaged in several online flame wars with fans of Qi Si (a certain Eastern idol), "He Fen" (fans of a certain Super Girl contestant), and Yao Mi (anyone who follows basketball understands). Their influence was rapidly growing on the internet.

The video of Wang Zhuo brutally beating up the "Shamat" style kid and assaulting an officer to seize a weapon was hailed by them as an unparalleled classic, spread vigorously without restraint. Slogans like, "Surpassing Donnie Yen," "The contemporary Bruce Lee," "Fist-fighting Shaolin Temple," and "Kicking Wudang Mountain" were grand and mighty. When domestic platforms blocked them, they uploaded the videos to foreign websites. If the American site "YouTuPo" was blocked, they moved to Thailand, India, and Japan.

The reason for [censored event]’s success was that the Party controlled the masses. The reason Wang Zhuo became famous was that his actions were immensely satisfying to the public.

Everyone who watched Wang Zhuo's videos felt inspired, their blood boiling. They had suffered bullying from thugs; they had experienced unfair treatment. Wang Zhuo's fierce resistance, his relentless drive forward, deeply shook their already numb or gradually hardening hearts.

Wang Zhuo became the Prince Charming in the eyes of young women. My God, this was so romantic! To save her, he dared to break the law by assaulting an officer and seizing a gun; he risked his life by plunging into a dangerous den. It was so romantic! If only I could have a boyfriend like that!

Wang Zhuo became the idol of admiration for young men. What did it matter if someone could dance? What if someone could act? What if someone played basketball well? Did they dare confront a man holding a gun? Did they have the guts to strike a police officer? Had they killed anyone?

Every detail about Wang Zhuo was being deeply excavated. His Gaokao scores were dug up, celebrated wildly by fans who used them to criticize entertainment and sports stars. An old television interview clip from before the Gaokao, where he appeared briefly, was also found—look how calm he was! Fans took pride in imitating Wang Zhuo’s expression at that moment.

Even information about Wang Zhuo's stone gambling was uncovered. Some people analyzed footage from online media or televised news recordings to deduce the relationship between the discoverer of the Imperial Green jade and Wang Zhuo, concluding it was the same person.

Regarding the sensational [censored] incident from years ago, some people used the layout and furnishings of the male lead's home to deduce the authenticity of the footage; now, this high-tech method was being applied to Wang Zhuo. Fans managed to recreate the original appearance of the video using simulation methods, proving that the face behind the mosaic was indeed Wang Zhuo's.

Top medical university student, handsome and wealthy, skilled in both literature and martial arts, willing to risk everything for love... All these protagonist auras were stacked upon Wang Zhuo. The fans roared: "We only want Instructor Wang! Oriental Gods Go Die!"

This slogan was quickly corrected. They decided their idol should be magnanimous, selfless, and universal, not comparable to narrow-minded celebrities. Therefore, Wang Zhuo's fans should also be like that. They could chant slogans, but they should only support Instructor Wang, not denigrate others.

So, a new slogan was introduced: "We like Oriental Gods, but we love Instructor Wang even more! We love Yao Ming, but we love Wang Zhuo more! We are fans of Guo Si Niang, and Si Niang fans Wang Zhuo!"

Wang Zhuo continued to maintain his composure regarding these matters, though he thought it might feel slightly better if "Si Niang" was replaced with Furong Jiejie.

...

After dropping Fatty Long back at school, Wang Zhuo felt an urge to vent some frustration.

Gan Lin's family and friends stayed in Jiangzhou for two days before heading back home. However, Gan Lin's mother remained, renting a one-bedroom apartment near the school and becoming a "study-accompanying mother."

She kept her precious daughter under tight surveillance, even insisting that Gan Lin return home for lunch. Moreover, it seemed she planned for a long-term stay, having bought new beds and furniture.

Now Wang Zhuo had a serious headache. They had only just broken through that final barrier, and before they could enjoy each other’s company for long, a 1800-watt light bulb had inserted itself between them! Now, forget about cohabiting off-campus; even sneaking a kiss required timing it for when the mother-in-law was busy in the kitchen or using the restroom.

Anyone who has experienced it understands: if you never did that thing before, it wouldn't matter. But if you have tasted the forbidden fruit and are then forbidden from returning to it, that feeling is agonizing.

Wang Zhuo was in exactly that state. He was young and full of vigor. After being pent up for several days, he was nearly exploding.

Just as he was contemplating whether to conspire with Gan Lin to skip a couple of classes and find a hotel to "relax," his phone rang.

"Wang Zhuo, I just got off the plane. When are you treating me to a meal?"

Hearing that voice, Wang Zhuo immediately broke into a happy smile. "Sister Yingying, wanting a meal is no problem. Which airport are you at? Should I come pick you up?"