The term "blog" was actually the way Taiwanese compatriots referred to blogs; the English word is "blog," and translating it phonetically as bù luò gé wasn't bad. Moreover, the character bù luò carried certain extended connotations, making it arguably more vivid and evocative than simply translating it as "blog."

In this age of advanced information, the Earth has long since transformed from the massive sphere once circumnavigated in eighty days into a "global village"—a place where a shout at the village entrance elicits an immediate echo at the far end.

Take the example of Shi Yu-zhu, a popular blogger from the Mainland; the dog he raises is named Obama. Probably a hundred thousand blog friends know this dog. Everyone knows that when the dog was young, it was frequently bullied by the four large geese Shi Yu-zhu kept. Now that the dog has grown, it, in turn, bullies the four geese.

In Boss Shi’s company compound, it’s a daily spectacle of flying geese and bounding dogs—never a dull moment.

Bao'er, meanwhile, was a popular ge zhu (blog owner) on the Wanwan Blogosphere. The fact that this blogosphere remained relatively unknown was largely due to its owner being rather lazy, never bothering with promotion. Consequently, those who posted here were individuals unconcerned with popularity, forming their own insulated community.

Bao'er had been active on the Wanwan Blogosphere for two years. Initially, she only posted brief diary entries about her moods, seeming rather unhappy, so few people paid her any mind. Later, something must have shifted; she became a happier person, gradually beginning to interact and exchange ideas with other ge zhus, gaining friends and a larger readership.

The atmosphere on the Wanwan Blogosphere was quite open. The customs of the Mainland and Taiwan differed significantly. Many films and books banned in the Mainland had legal markets in Taiwan. There was even a news report about a young Taiwanese man obsessed with translating Japanese action films who was eventually hired by a Japanese studio to create subtitles for their original material, precisely because these Japanese films had legal retail outlets in Taiwan!

Gradually, Bao’er started following suit, occasionally posting a photograph. Some would show off their jade-like feet, others would display beautiful black silk legs, and some would wear a business suit without a bra, allowing everyone to admire their impressive décolletage.

Art and desire often stand on the finest of edges; a lascivious person can achieve arousal looking at a statue of Venus, and ancient erotic embroidered silks and sculptures are regularly featured in art exhibitions!

Thus, Bao'er's actions were a matter of subjective opinion; she herself felt it was artistic expression, not a display of explicit works.

A beautiful woman proudly showcasing herself naturally attracts many admirers. Bao'er’s readership gradually grew to over a hundred people. She continued to follow her own path, occasionally interacting with everyone when she was in a good mood.

Where there are people, there is society; even a tiny blogosphere is no exception. The Peach Blossom Spring exists only in stories; even this virtual world of the internet is rife with deception and cunning.

When Bao'er posted her entry titled "Contact," it quickly garnered a flood of replies. Many offered congratulations and admiration, but dissenting voices soon arose.

The first was another female ge zhu named "Candy." A year prior, she had already taken issue with Bao'er's rising popularity, stepping forward to accuse Bao'er of using stolen photos to masquerade as the owner, seeking cheap attention.

This accusation was clumsy and rather childish. As expected, "Bao'er" swiftly responded by taking a photo of herself next to a bottle of water, holding up a piece of white paper that read "Bao'er Blog" in five characters, easily countering the doubt.

The other ge zhus cheered her on, commenting that Bao'er’s handwriting was as beautiful as she was. Candy promptly deleted her doubting comment and remained silent for a few days before resuming her blog updates as if nothing had happened.

This time, Candy jumped back in, accusing Bao'er of boasting. She even drew a line on a ruler measuring 250 millimeters, proclaiming that something this long could "pierce through your belly," and swore vehemently that an arm as thick as a child's could "burst you open"—insisting that no such monster existed among the Asian race.

In truth, many people did feel that Bao'er was exaggerating this time. Many had long suspected Bao'er was a mistress kept by a wealthy man, or perhaps a sheltered rich girl. If you want to show off your beautiful legs, fine, but why place a Vacheron Constantin watch next to them? What were you trying to flaunt?

...

Everyone harbors secrets, small private hobbies they wouldn't readily share with outsiders, and Fu Xinran was no exception.

Bao'er was her online alter ego. She chose Taiwan and a relatively obscure, small blog precisely to remain unknown, ensuring it wouldn't impact her daily life.

Popularity inevitably