The car had been parked in the garage a long time ago, but Bai Mu's hands still tightly clenched the steering wheel. Breathing hard, he pressed the tip of his tongue against his palate, and savoured the thrill of the ride. A faint smell of gasoline seeped in from the car window, engulfing the tip of his nose and stimulating his already overloaded temples further. It took a long time for him to recover from this dizzy sensation, and his heart, which had remained calm throughout the journey, finally reacted to the delayed adrenaline rush and started to jump wildly, invigorated by the abundance of power he felt.

"Ah!" He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel with a small smile, exuding vitality and cheerfulness.

Once, in the past, due to Bai Lin leaving his side without giving any prior notice, Bai Mu had encountered a very serious traffic accident. The sensation of his body being crushed into pieces was still deeply engraved in his heart. He had thought that he would never be able to drive alone again, because that memory-of almost dying-had become his eternal nightmare, binding around his hands and feet. However, just now, when he had driven back at the fastest speed possible, he felt that he had left all his worries behind, realizing just how happy and free life could be!

The anxiety, pathos, pain and self-blame that had accumulated in the depths of his heart were all dissipated by this incisive and vivid catharsis. This was undoubtedly the happiest day Bai Mu had experienced ever since the death of his grandfather and parents. His eyes were red, but he was smiling. Blue veins were bulging all over his hands-evidence of the excessive strength Bai Mu was using to grasp the steering wheel.

An elderly man slowly approached the car, and peered inside before clearly seeing and recognizing the driver. He couldn't help but reveal a panicked expression. "Xiao Mu, you, how did you drive back by yourself? Did anything happen on the road?"

Bai Mu hurriedly raised his head. A gentle smile replaced the sadness and joy that had been expressed on his face. "Uncle Li, I'm fine. I drove the car myself, and there were no traffic accidents on the way." After speaking, his eyes flashed, and he felt that he was still lost in a slight trance. This kind of success was beyond his imagination, and was a wholly unexpected outcome after he had so decisively parted ways with Bai Lin.

"Really? You get out now, quickly!" Uncle Li, the housekeeper, hurriedly and anxiously opened the door in fear of something happening to his young master in the next moment. He had watched over Bai Mu as he had grown up and naturally knew about his strange fate.

Bai Mu avoided his extended hand as he started to disembark from the car, and replied in a voice that was a little hoarse from excitement and joy. "Uncle Li, I'm really alright. You shouldn't touch me; be careful of the bad luck."

"Alright, I won't touch you. Quickly get out of the car though." Uncle Li's face was full of heartache and helplessness. In order to not affect the people around him, the Young Master always maintained a certain distance from others, and he did so consciously, till it had become an unconscious habit. Would he become more and more lonely in the future? Would he have to live his life like this forever?

Bai Mu wanted to pat Uncle Li on the shoulder to comfort him, but in the end, he could only restrain himself from touching the other person.

As soon as he put his right foot over the threshold of the garage door, the luxury car, which was famous for its high safety specifications, crashed down halfway, stooping over-all of its four tires had burst.

Uncle Li's legs trembled with fear, while Bai Mu also watched the scene in disbelief, immediately realizing that his good luck value today was probably higher than that of the people who won billions from lottery tickets. If he had returned home just a few minutes later, a terrible traffic accident would have been inevitable! On his way home, he had unknowingly rubbed shoulders with death countless times, and escaped successfully countless times. If this was what having bad luck referred to, then who in the world could be luckier than him?

"Xiao Mu, in the future, you must not drive by yourself. Do you want to scare your Uncle Li to death? Don't you know how bad your luck is?" Uncle Li's voice abruptly stopped in shock, and then he quickly changed his question. "No, no! Xiao Mu, how are you so lucky today? The tires only burst after you arrived home safely, isn't this too abnormal?"

After Bai Lin had left, Bai Mu had experienced all kinds of accidents. He had been hit by a car, had faced random objects falling onto his head from above, had been stabbed by a robber... In short, he faced nine deaths but still remained alive, living everyday like a battle-ready soldier fighting a war.

Naturally, he knew that everything that had happened today was abnormal, so he began to recall the day's events one by one-it wasn't Bai Lin, he wasn't by his side when he was driving; it wasn't those subordinates, after all, they met every day, if one of them could affect his life, it would have have improved a long time ago; it wasn't Master Zhou, who had said long ago that there was no way to change his fate, let alone find another human pillar, because every human's life chart was unique. In other words, in this world, no one could replace Bai Lin.

Then who else could it have been? What exactly was it that had influence on him? As Bai Mu desperately searched through his memoires of the day, a face, with a glow just like that of the moon's halo surrounding it, inadvertnly formed in his mind, before quickly fading away.

-

Fan Jialuo slept in the bathtub for three days and three nights, while the police waited for his next move. It had been almost two weeks since he had issued the death notice on Weibo, yet Sun Ying, Fan Luoshan, Zhao Wenyan and Cao Xiaofeng, who were the top candidates of the death list, were still alive and kicking.

Being under the police's 24/7 protection seriously interfered with these people's daily life and work. The ennui they faced from being constrained led them to begin doubting the authenticity of the death notice.

"Please don't follow me any more! Although I am a celebrity, I also need my privacy! Fan Jialuo's death notice is just a joke! So many days have already passed. If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it by now!" On a random impulse, Sun Ying slammed his hands against the dressing table, expressing his growing dissatisfaction through his actions.

"What if this is the moment he's waiting for? What if he starts to act right after we leave?" Zhuang Zhen blocked the door, clearly showing that he had no intentions of moving from his spot.

Sun Ying's face turned white, he was obviously also concerned about the same thing, but after taking out his mobile phone and swiping through his Weibo for a few moments, he yelled out again, "Look at this! I already said that Fan Jialuo is playing us! You, hurry up and leave. I don't need your protection. I have my own bodyguards!"

Zhuang Zhen rushed over to check what Sun Ying was looking at on his mobile phone, and upon seeing the content on its screen, his eyes narrowed. Only a minute ago, Fan Jialuo had written a new post on his Weibo, which contained only a single line of text - The third one. However, all the people he hated were being strictly protected by the police, and the second victim had yet to even appear. Why was the message saying the third one?

At that moment, Zhuang Zhen's clever brain turned utterly blank, and it was only after a long while that he managed to start thinking again normally. He immediately contacted the several other monitoring groups, only to learn that all the people being protected were still very much alive and had not encountered any danger.

"Leader, do these 'second one' and 'third one' really refer to the objects of revenge? Could we have been interpreting it wrongly?" Every member of the task force started to voice their thoughts and unease in a group discussion being held on their chat group.

"Could someone have been missed from the list?"

"Continue to look up Fan Jialuo's social relationships! We may have missed some important people!"

"It's impossible. His experiences in life are very straightforward. There are only a few people who he kept in contact with!"

"Leader, do you think it's a prank? Nowadays, these idols will do anything for the sake of popularity. See, before he posted the death notice, he had only around 10 million fans. Now, there are more than 60 million of them. Being infamous is also a path to being famous, don't you think?"

"It's possible!"

"Maybe Gao Yize was not murdered, but instead, he might have accidentally stepped on something and unluckily fallen from the top floor. Should we have the Forensic Department investigate the scene of the crime again?"

The more they analyzed it, the more it seemed that Fan Jialuo was bluffing. Zhuang Zhen just frowned, not responding within the group at all. When the discussion tailed off, he analyzed in a deep voice, "The death notice can be said to be a prank, but how would you explain that sketch then? If the scene had not been designed in advance, it would have been impossible for him to illustrate Gao Yize's death in such detail. Send two more men to watch over Fan Jialuo. Be sure to keep a close eye on him. The others can continue to check his social relationships to see if we have missed anything. At present, the case is very unclear, and Fan Jialuo is our only clue and breakthrough point. Don't be confused by his strange behavior, we just need to check again and again. Pick up the pace on Gao Yize's social background investigation. We need more clues."

"Yes, Leader!"

"Understood, Leader!"

"Orders received!"

Everyone quickly left the group chat and dispersed.

Regardless of Sun Ying's strong resistance, Zhuang Zhen escorted the other to his car and followed him to his home. In the dead of night, he could still be seen at the bottom of Sun Ying's apartment-not once leaving his post, and not daring to lose sight of any movement. Leaning back against the side of the car, he took out his cell phone to read all the posts published by Fan Jialuo on his Weibo.

As a former member of a famous idol group, Fan Jialuo was extremely distinguished in appearance, family background and popularity. Before, as soon as his fans swarmed into the Weibo Comments Section, they would start crying 'Gege, I love you; Gege is so cute; Gege is mine' and so forth.

But now, his Weibo Comments Section was full of bloody curses, smelly verbal abuse and a bottomless pit of humiliating insults. To what extent could the viciousness of people go? The answer to this question could be found by just looking at Fan Jialuo's account, and there was no need to go elsewhere in search of it.

Zhuang Zhen, who had seen his fair share of gunfire and bullets, had experienced countless narrow escapes from death, and had a heart he self-proclaimed to be as strong as iron, still felt suffocated for a second or two when he saw these messages and comments. He took out a cigarette and lit it with the lighter handed to him by one of his team members. Taking a deep breath, the smoke poured into his throat and nasal cavity. It was slightly acrid, but it took away the stench left by the abuse, curses and humiliating words written on Fan Jialuo's Weibo.

A team member glanced at his mobile phone screen and sighed, "This Fan Jialuo is really not simple. If I had swapped places with him, I would already have collapsed at the sight of these messages."

"Words are like knives." Zhuang Zhen slowly spat out a mouthful of smoke. Somehow, he even found himself admiring Fan Jialuo. Only those with strong psychological qualities could plan a seamless murder, right?

At that same moment in time, Fan Jialuo was lying awake in the bathtub, playing with his cell phone. The cold rays of moonlight poured down through the window, illuminating his gentle eyebrows, the curve of his eyes, and his body-which at some point in time had become plump and soft. The vast expanse of purple bruises on his back and shoulders had now disappeared. The arms that were once so thin and looked like they would be easily broken were now covered with a thin layer of firm muscle. The lines of his body were tight and smooth, and were just as beautiful as that of a sculpted body. Those deep-rooted ribs were now covered with delicate flesh and skin. This body couldn't be described as thin, but it was rare to find such well-balanced bone structure and skin with such delicate texture.

With his long fingertips, he gently clicked to go to the next page of the Comments Section, and chuckled. For others, viewing something like this might have been equivalent to facing harsh winds and frosted sleet; or flashing knives and swords; or even verbal attacks filled with severe criticism and insults; but for him, it was all simply a joke to laugh at for a while. Not only did it amuse him, but he could also absorb an abundance of nourishment from it to fill his body.

[Everyone, let's go. Don't scold him anymore. I just inquired and found out that the people who Fan Jialuo hates are all still alive and kicking. They're not in danger at all. All his death notices are just there for him to create the heat. The more you come here and scold him, the more you fall into his trap! He wants to be popular, so hey, don't be fooled! In my opinion, those death notices are false!]

[Yes, I also think they're fake! He doesn't have the guts to kill!]

[Let's go. Don't add traffic to this lousy man.]

[A dog that can bite will never bark. This is the most appropriate way to describe him. He's just a mad dog who likes barking. He looks fierce. But, in fact, he can be killed with a stick.]

The more rational people retreated from his Weibo, leaving behind some who came out in spurts to purely vent their negative emotions. Fan Jialuo licked his lips and shook his head. He was disappointed. Without any bustle to spectate on, he soon lost interest, and so he put down his mobile phone and continued to sleep in the bathtub. A strong and thick black miasma flowed from all directions, and gradually penetrated and spread into the water in the bathtub, quietly nourishing his increasingly supple and strong body.

Three days later, he woke up again. His once bony face was now as tender as a yangzhi white jade. His excessively sharp facial features had completely faded away, leaving behind only a gentle, quiet beauty that would grace every smile and frown of his, and would penetrate deep into the onlookers' heart.

Fan Jialuo logged into his Weibo and slowly typed out a line of words-The fourth one.

...

The translator and editors have something to say[Not Weibo comment, don't be confused guys :')]:

Yeah yeah, he accidentally stepped on banana peel and unluckily fallen from the top floor...

Qiuxue: And so the plot thickens... like putting roux in soup~!

Frozenmirage: Ahhh, finally, there's no need to worry about your body...