Pretending To Have A Certain Persona Can Be Tiring - Chapter 13

As night fell, Song Yang finished distributing the last of the flyers and sighed with relief.

He took off the heavy brown bear costume. After working all day, the sweat on his back had already dried, leaving his body aching and weak as if his limbs no longer belonged to him. Exhausted, he found a flower ledge to sit on, hoping to rest for a while before returning to the creative store.

Song Yang opened his phone and saw a message from Xu Man sent two hours ago:

Boss Xu: The contract termination procedures are finished. If you do not have any issues, we will be reclaiming the account now.

Song Yang had spent the last few days negotiating his contract termination. With the paperwork complete, he was finally free. The company would be reclaiming the Ceil IP, including the account, the name, and the virtual avatar image.

He simply replied with an “OK.” As Ceil’s face flickered through his mind, he felt a sudden pang of reluctance.

His feelings for this virtual persona were strange. Ceil felt like his avatar in another dimension. He had given Ceil life, and in turn, had become one with it. Thinking that Ceil would no longer belong to him left him feeling a profound sense of loss.

He looked up at the streetlights in silence for a long time, then picked up his phone and logged into the Ceil account one last time.

The notification bar still showed “99+.” Knowing it was all abuse, he did not click on it. Instead, he went to his homepage and cleared all his videos and updates, leaving the profile completely blank.

A moment later, he tapped on Xiaodai’s profile. Since everything went down, he had not been in touch with her.

A few days ago, Xiaodai had pinned a post asking her fans not to cyberbully others, clearly in his defense. Yet, the explanation he had previously sent her remained unread.

Song Yang knew clearly that Xiaodai did not fully trust him regarding this scandal; after all, they had only just met, and his own clumsy clarification had only added fuel to the fire.

Putting himself in her shoes, he would not believe it either. But amid the one-sided public opinion, Xiaodai at least had not made a scene, granting him the last shred of dignity.

He opened the private message window to Xiaodai, his fingers hovering over the keyboard with a heavy heart.

Ceil: Sister Xiaodai, thank you for being willing to defend me. I am terminating my contract with the company. I will not use the Ceil account for streaming anymore. I wish you all the best. Let us meet again in the future with a new identity.

The message was sent, like a pebble dropped into the ocean. He might never see a response from her again.

He had explained what he needed to explain. Song Yang was powerless to do anything more; perhaps this rift could never be mended.

Song Yang felt it was not such a big deal. As one grows older, one realizes that human power is limited and many things cannot be changed through effort alone. As the saying goes, in life, misunderstandings are the norm, while being understood is a rare exception.

He firmly and optimistically believed that the low point was only temporary. He would regroup, reorganize, and climb his way up, step by step.

Suddenly filled with confidence, his back no longer ached. He hugged the bear costume, stood up tall, clenched his fists, and shouted internally: Work hard to make money, work hard to stream! Two years from now, this Song fellow will be a new man!

At that moment, a light object fell from the costume and landed at his feet.

Song Yang looked down and discovered that a piece of paper had stuck to the costume at some point. He bent down to pick it up and glanced at it.

He widened his eyes in shock. It was a sketch of a brown bear, running about while handing out flyers, sweat dripping from its brow.

The drawing was simple, clean, and fluid. Even though it was drawn with just a few strokes, it brought the clumsy, cute bear to life.

“Is this… me?” A gentle breeze blew, causing the paper in his hands to flutter like butterfly wings. He could not believe it. He stood frozen for a long time. “Someone actually drew me? When did they stick this on my back?”

He felt pleasantly surprised, unable to suppress the smile on his face. He admired the drawing for several minutes before flipping it over, only to find a few small characters written in beautiful regular script:

“Don’t cry.”

Even though he did not know why the person had written that, he was overjoyed. He carefully folded the paper and tucked it away in his pocket for safekeeping.

“Alright, alright, whenever I want to cry in the future, I will take this out to look at it. Thank you, stranger.”

The warm yellow light of the streetlamps seemed dipped in tung oil, and a faint scent of osmanthus drifted through the air. In a great mood, he walked along the leaf-strewn sidewalk, his pace light and springy.

After much deliberation, Song Yang decided to postpone opening a new account. The public sentiment against him was still strong, and he was not a fool; he would wait until the wind died down to show his face. After all, internet memories fade quickly.

As it happened, the Student Union had a lot of work lately. The dubbing competition hosted by the Literature Department had already passed the preliminaries. Since Song Yang was not on the planning committee, he was reduced to a manual laborer working behind the scenes.

The finals were on Friday. Song Yang brought his work badge and arrived early at the venue, only to see He Jia Miao post in the group chat:

Department Head He Jia Miao: Everyone, be 100% focused today. You represent the image of the entire Literature Department Student Union. Once it is over, we can have a team-building event. Oh, and the school leaders and the President might come to inspect our work today.

Song Yang felt annoyed. President, President—it is that King of Pretension again. Why is he everywhere?

Because of He Jia Miao’s warning, Song Yang kept glancing at the main entrance throughout the competition to see if Ji Ting had arrived.

Sang Ling, sitting next to him, noticed his unusual behavior and kindly asked, “Song Yang, are your eyes twitching?”

“No,” Song Yang turned his gaze back and leaned in lower. “I am starving. I saw someone selling fried rice noodles outside when I arrived. Do you want to eat? Let us go buy some later.”

Sang Ling shook her head: “No, I would be in trouble if we get caught.”

“Are you afraid of Ji Ting? Do not worry, he has not shown up in all this time; he is not coming.”

Sang Ling said: “What if he does? I would not risk it.”

Song Yang pouted: “Then I am eating alone.”

Once the contestants finished and the intermission started, Song Yang slipped out to buy fried rice noodles when He Jia Miao was not looking, hiding in a corner behind the auditorium to eat.

“Babe, you are here.” Tao Ziyi hurried out of the auditorium with his schoolbag and ran over to Song Yang. “I have been looking for you. I have something to ask you.”

Song Yang focused on slurping noodles, not even lifting his head: “Speak.”

Tao Ziyi squatted down next to him and whispered: “Did I not break up with Cheng Ran a few days ago? Ever since then, he has been pestering me. He came to see me today and gave me this. I think it is so weird. What does he mean?”

Song Yang was so angry he almost spat out his noodles. “That French Fry still has the nerve to come see you!”

Tao Ziyi quickly patted his back to calm him down: “Aiya, do not rush. Help me look first.”

Suppressing his rage, Song Yang peered into the bag. Inside was a pink box, unmistakably branded with a suggestive, bulging cylindrical object.

Song Yang’s brows knit tight, his face turning grim. He asked, knowing the answer, “What is this?”

“An alien-shaped… thick and long… you know the one.” Tao Ziyi lowered his voice. “Tell me what he means.”

Song Yang: “…”

Song Yang landed a heavy punch on Tao Ziyi’s shoulder. “Are you stupid? What could he mean? He cannot find anyone else to sleep with, so he wants to stir up your desire and sleep with you again! You cannot even see that? I want to take this fake d*ck and beat your silicone brain with it!”

“Alright, alright, stop scolding me.” Tao Ziyi rubbed his shoulder, sounding aggrieved.

Song Yang wanted to say more, but suddenly perceived someone in the distance. He looked over warily and, sure enough, saw Ji Ting at the auditorium entrance.

Damn, the King of Pretension! Alarm bells rang in Song Yang’s head. Luckily, Ji Ting was talking to someone else and had not noticed him.

He hurriedly shoved the remaining noodles into his mouth, tossed the plastic container into the trash can, grabbed Tao Ziyi, and ran.

If Ji Ting sees me slacking off, it is all over!

He dragged Tao Ziyi, trying to circle around to the back door of the auditorium through Ji Ting’s blind spot. But before he could take a few steps, Ji Ting’s deep voice rang out from his side: “Where are you going?”

Song Yang’s breath hitched. He turned back, stunned to see Ji Ting’s back, which carried an air of authority that instantly froze him in place.

Does that bastard have eyes in the back of his head? he muttered through gritted teeth.

Ji Ting turned his head, his sharp eyes shooting toward them like arrows. A moment later, his gaze fell on Song Yang’s greasy mouth, which he had not had time to wipe.

The atmosphere grew awkward. Before Song Yang could make an excuse, Ji Ting spoke first, questioning them: “What are you doing?”

Song Yang shrank his neck: “I saw it was intermission, so I…”

Tao Ziyi: “So I…”

“Intermission?” Ji Ting’s expression cooled. “The competition is not over yet. As a staff member, can you leave your post without permission?”

“I…” Song Yang’s heart pounded, and he scrambled for an excuse. “I was having a hypoglycemic episode, so I came out to eat something. Right, sister?”

Tao Ziyi nodded quickly: “Yes, yes.”

Under Ji Ting’s death glare, Song Yang coughed pretentiously, then leaned against Tao Ziyi, acting weak: “Senior, as you know, my family is poor. I did not get enough to eat when I was young, which led to poor sugar intake and a chronic weak constitution. I just ate something, but I still have not recovered… cough cough!”

Ji Ting looked at his rosy, energetic face and tilted his head slightly, as if to say: Keep acting.

Seeing Ji Ting did not say anything, Song Yang assumed he believed him and continued to bluster: “Do not worry, no matter how many difficulties I face, I will definitely insist on staying until the end of the competition. This is my mission as a member of the Student Union.”

“Do I need to praise you for that?” Ji Ting’s tone was flat.

“No need, I will praise myself…” Song Yang stood up straight, bowed and scraped again, “If there is nothing else, Senior, we will leave now.”

Taking advantage of Ji Ting’s silence, he grabbed Tao Ziyi and ran, slipping through the main entrance in a flash.

Ji Ting stood with his arms crossed, watching their fleeing backs, arched a brow, and let out a low, cold snort.

“Ah, do not scold me.” Tao Ziyi followed Song Yang back to the competition venue. “He has been begging me bitterly these past few days, saying he really loves me. Last night, he almost knelt down under the dorm building. I admit, I was a little shaken at the time, so I am considering whether to give him one last chance.”

Song Yang raised his hand to slap him awake, but paused for a second in mid-air before letting it fall.

He finally realized that the memory of a lovestruck fool only lasts for seven seconds; recurring torture is their destiny.

“Go find him then. If you get dumped, do not come crying to me! I, Song Yang, am choosing to drop the savior complex today and respect the fate of others!”