"Thanks, Brother Chen."
Lin Feng offered his heartfelt praise.
The reason he had installed a camera was none other than their old acquaintance, Brother Chen.
Brother Chen had insisted on it.
"Put a camera by the door. Better safe than sorry."
Most of the prohibitions in safety guidelines were rules distilled from bloody accidents.
The crystallization of wisdom.
"Learn from Che's mistakes, bro. Look at me—I moved twice in three months. Those were some brutal lessons!
I was such an idiot. I filmed an unboxing of my new place, figuring I could knock out a low-effort video. But how the hell did I let my guard down? I showed the view outside the window for less than a second, probably, and that was enough. I give up. Sherlock Holmes, I swear. Ugh."
When Brother Chen told Lin Feng this, he spoke with heartfelt earnestness, reaching out to slap a thigh hard, his face full of rueful emotion.
It would have been even better if he had slapped his own thigh.
His crazed fans had tracked down his address and found their way to his door.
There was no need to explain what happened next.
Knocking, sending gifts, ordering takeout to his address, and even more unhinged declarations of love, pounding on the door, getting increasingly violent.
Brother Chen promptly fled.
That one incident had left him traumatized.
"You need this. It's damn useful. Daddy's paid for it, no need to thank me. Ask the installers how to use it. They're professionals. If anything seems wrong, you hear me? Run immediately. Don't try to reason with them. You can't reason with people like that."
Brotherly love.
Love, his ass!
After the camera was installed, Brother Chen dragged him over to make three or four episodes.
Without paying him.
Not a single