Early that morning, viewers received a notification from the app: the uploader they followed had posted a new video.
They tapped the notification to open the video page and saw a title brimming with silliness-"Now These Are Some Birdbrained Netizens."
Unaware of what awaited them, viewers thought Ke Meng had filmed another review. They opened it, only to find that it was barely a minute long.
"The uploader's gone short today. Just one minute?"
"How much content can you fit into a minute? Color me confused."
Comments like these soon disappeared after a few seconds, because everyone saw a white-feathered Sand Sculpture standing upright. One of her claws seemed to be holding something round, black, and shaped like a short rod, which she used to fiddle with a phone.
Only when the camera moved closer did everyone realize it was a Stylus.
"???"
Question marks swept across the screen. Everyone was baffled.
Wait, how was this Sand Sculpture using a phone with one foot?
Where were her hands? Oh, right. She didn't have any.
Only then did the viewers finally remember the title: "Now These Are Some Birdbrained Netizens."
"So that's what it meant."
"I get it now. This is a video about birdbrained netizens. The genuine article."
At that point, Ke Meng aimed the camera at White Sugar's phone screen.
It showed a Tencent chat app. White Sugar was chatting with someone online.
"White Sugar": "I've got a phone now! Ahhh, ahhh!"
"Call Me Tangyuan": "[Another weird netizen has appeared.]"
White Sugar seemed very excited. She controlled the Stylus with her claw, tapping rapidly at the screen. She skillfully used the Stylus on the nine-key keyboard, typing just as fast as an ordinary person.
"One birdbrain chatting with another. Which one's the real birdbrain?"
"You never know what kind