Luo Ming’s mouth twitched.
Sister Shan was definitely about to say “mother and daughter” just now, right?
So in Sister Shan’s eyes, Lin Shuwen was like a daughter to her?
I see you as a big sister, but you want to be my mom?
Sister Shan noticed “Lin Shuwen’s” odd expression and quickly explained, “Wenwen, you know, when you first joined the company, you weren’t quite used to things yet. There was a little more on your plate, and I found myself worrying more, so my mindset shifted a bit—it’s only natural.”
“I get it! Sister Shan, I totally get it!”
“As long as you understand. Anyway, from now on, if something’s bothering you, you can always talk to me. No need to keep it all bottled up.” With that, Sister Shan pushed open the door and made a quick escape.
Even someone with Sister Shan’s thick skin couldn’t handle letting that slip.
After Sister Shan left, Luo Ming collapsed onto the sofa and muttered to himself, “So the TV drama flopped, and Lin Shuwen wasn’t even the least bit upset. No wonder the Chen sisters and Sister Shan all acted so strangely today. Is there something wrong with that girl’s brain?”
At 8 o’clock, Luo Ming pulled out his phone and dialed Lin Shuwen’s number.
“Sorry, the number you dialed is busy. Please try again later. Sorry, the phone is busy now, please try again later—”
“Busy! Talk tomorrow.” Lin Shuwen sent a WeChat message and then went silent.
Over on Lin Shuwen’s end, she really had been busy all day.
She’d promised Luo Ming she’d participate in the development of Plants vs. Zombies, but she knew her current technical skills weren’t up to par.
So Lin Shuwen decided to copy the code from the first few levels of Plants vs. Zombies and started dissecting and analyzing it.
Line by line, she broke down the code and textures, then reassembled them.
This process had been going on all day.
From 9 a.m. when she got to the office, all the way until now—apart from lunch and bathroom breaks—Lin Shuwen hadn’t left her desk.
Even with all that effort, though, her progress today wasn’t great.
She’d only gotten a bit more familiar with the code and assets of Plants vs. Zombies—she was still far from being able to actually work on it herself.
Before she knew it, it was already 9 p.m. Lin Shuwen stretched, put on her coat, and left the office, planning to continue tomorrow.
Back at home, she wasn’t in the mood to browse Weibo—mainly because she was just too exhausted. After studying code all day, her brain felt like a foggy mess; she’d lost all ability to think clearly.
She took a quick shower and crashed into bed, falling asleep immediately.
Meanwhile, online, public opinion about the business performance was starting to gain traction.
A lot of people had recorded videos of the show, and since Lin Shuwen was already riding high on the popularity of Light Years Away, the view counts were skyrocketing.
“Wow! This song ‘Snail’ is so good and so inspiring!”
“From what Wenwen said afterward, she wrote this song during a low point in her career. It’s amazing that she could create something so positive even during hard times—she really deserves encouragement.”
“Good thing Wenwen didn’t go to grad school.”
“‘Rating killer’ isn’t wrong, though! If she hadn’t dragged my idol down, he’d be a huge star by now.” That was clearly a fan of the male lead from one of the TV dramas she’d worked on.
“Come on, go rewatch those two dramas. Lin Shuwen’s acting isn’t amazing, but it’s definitely better than the leads’. The ratings flopping isn’t her fault at all.”
“Agreed. The leads in both dramas just stare with wide eyes the whole time. Even I couldn’t sit through that.”
“Guys, don’t let anyone stir up trouble. Let’s just enjoy Wenwen’s singing and not argue with them.”
“Exactly! Don’t get sidetracked.”
“Sister Shan, the negativity has been suppressed.” The head of Huayue’s tech department reported to Sister Shan.
“Good. Xiao Wang, start buying Trending Topics spots. Get ‘Snail’ and ‘Rating Killer’ trending.”
“Where should we place them?”
“Just get them on the front page. The fans and casual viewers will push them higher from there.”
Xiao Wang nodded and got to work.
Soon, two trending topics appeared on Weibo’s front page.
But to Sister Shan and Xiao Wang’s surprise, aside from those two, a topic called “Prison-Style Singer” also made it to the front page.
Curious, Xiao Wang clicked in—and his expression turned strange.
It turned out that a moderately well-known singer had just been exposed by paparazzi for soliciting prostitution, complete with photos of being taken away by the police.
That blew up the “Prison-Style Singer” topic.
“Seriously? Lin Shuwen’s luck is incredible,” Xiao Wang muttered to himself.
The next day, Lin Shuwen arrived at the company. The moment she walked in, Rong Mu grabbed her arm.
Lin Shuwen was already very familiar with how Luo Ming and Rong Mu interacted. She slapped his hand away and quipped, “Woody, don’t get all touchy-feely. I’m a normal man.”
“Damn! Er Ming, can you even talk? Like I’m not a normal man?”
“Cut the crap. If you’ve got something to say, say it—I’ve got work to do.”
“Did you check Weibo yesterday?” Rong Mu asked.
“No.”
“No wonder. Take a look at Weibo’s trending page.”
Lin Shuwen pulled out her phone, opened Weibo, and saw the number one trending topic: “Prison-Style Singer.”
She was completely baffled. She’d heard of “asexual” , but what the heck was “prison-style”?
With a mix of curiosity, Lin Shuwen clicked on the topic—and her jaw dropped. So she was the one who’d started this “prison-style singer” thing?
She scrolled further down. Trending at #5: “Snail.” Trending at #7: “Rating Killer.” Trending at #11: “Lin Shuwen Who Almost Went Back to Grad School.”
“Er Ming, aren’t you pretty close with Lin Shuwen? Give her a call sometime and say something comforting. According to Weibo, she even cried yesterday over that ‘Rating Killer’ thing.”
“Huh? She cried?”
“Yeah! That song ‘Snail’ was written during her career low. Just listen to it—you’ll understand.”
Lin Shuwen searched for a video and hit play. It was over seven minutes long, capturing everything from the performance to Luo Ming’s heartfelt speech afterward.
After watching it, Lin Shuwen’s face turned red. This was too ridiculous—were they talking about her? She couldn’t even stand listening to it.
What “career low”? Was there even such a thing? How come she didn’t know about it?
If she remembered correctly, the 4 million yuan from the TV dramas had just hit her account at the time, and she was completely caught up in the excitement of having 4 million sitting in her bank card.
And yeah, the dramas flopped—but her song got popular!
It stayed on QQ Music’s weekly charts for 23 weeks, hit #1 for two weeks, and stayed in the top 10 for five weeks.
Sure, the “Rating Killer” label didn’t sound great.
But that little rascal Chuchu kept teasing her about it every few days, to the point where Lin Shuwen had become completely immune to the term.
