Back at the rented apartment, Chen Zhenzhen ducked into the bathroom to change back into her old clothes. When she came out, she looked a little conflicted.
"What's wrong?" Zhang Zhaomu asked.
"It's not very convenient to take the new clothes home tonight," Chen Zhenzhen said quietly. "I didn't bring a backpack."
"Just leave them here for now," Zhang Zhaomu said casually. "I'll wash them for you in a bit."
"N-no need!" Chen Zhenzhen said hurriedly:
"Just leave them there. I'll take them home and wash them next time!"
At the thought of him touching the clothes she had just changed out of, a faint blush rose on Chen Zhenzhen's pretty face.
"Suit yourself." Zhang Zhaomu hadn't given it that much thought. "Oh, right, we only bought one outfit yesterday. I'll pick out a few more for you in a bit."
Chen Zhenzhen nodded, then emphasized, "Make them more casual! Don't pick this kind again... the kind that doesn't fit!"
"Don't worry, I just misjudged things a little yesterday."
"And no sneaking any weird things in with them!"
"Chen Zhen, let me say this again: stockings aren't weird." Zhang Zhaomu stood his ground.
"Just don't!"
Chen Zhenzhen snorted softly. "I'm heading home, or my mom will start worrying."
"Be careful on the way." Zhang Zhaomu stared at his phone, his tone a little lazy. "Message me when you get home."
"How many years have I been walking this route?" Chen Zhenzhen muttered. "Are you worried I'll get lost or something?"
"Not really," Zhang Zhaomu said casually. "I'm just reminding you that things aren't the same as they used to be. A girl walking at night should be careful, after all."
Chen Zhenzhen gritted her teeth inwardly.
She had been a little happy, thinking this was the first time he had shown concern for her in this way, but what did he mean, things weren't the same as they used to be?
So she wasn't a girl before, was that it?
She pulled the door open and glared at Zhang Zhaomu. "Goodbye!"
The door closed, and Zhang Zhaomu stretched, planning to take a shower first as usual.
Then his gaze drifted involuntarily to the clothes lying on top of the washing machine.
An instinctive urge rose within him-the clothes were piled up in a mess. He really wanted to scrub them clean and hang them up, all fresh and neat.
Zhang Zhaomu hurriedly rubbed his face and suppressed the urge brought on by his [Refined] persona.
It was better not to touch them. Chen Zhenzhen had been getting more and more girly these past two days, and they had agreed she would take them home and wash them herself. If he touched them, who knew what she might complain about again?
By the time he finished washing up and picked up his phone, he had already received a message from Chen Zhenzhen.
Furiously Kicking the Cripple's Good Leg: "I'm home."
Wangzai's Little Fist: "Log in! Let's fight to our hearts' content tonight!"
Furiously Kicking the Cripple's Good Leg: "No time. My mom keeps pestering me about which salon did my hair. She wants to go too, and I'm trying to figure out how to fob her off."
Wangzai's Little Fist: "I wouldn't mind making a little extra money. One hundred a cut, fair prices for young and old alike."
Furiously Kicking the Cripple's Good Leg: "Sure. Then I'll tell her Zhang Zaowan cut it and have her come find you. Then she'll discover that Zhang Zaowan, who she's always thought was a girl, is actually a guy."
Furiously Kicking the Cripple's Good Leg: "Even if I pleaded for you, you'd probably have only one good leg left at most."
Wangzai's Little Fist: "And then you could finally put your nickname into practice, right?"
Chen Zhenzhen was a very moral person, and she surely couldn't do something like furiously kicking a cripple's good leg. But if he were the cripple... Zhang Zhaomu really couldn't be sure.
Wangzai's Little Fist: "Forget it. Good luck fobbing your mom off. We'll play another time."
Zhang Zhaomu closed Honor of Kings, which he had already opened.
He really couldn't be bothered to start a game alone. After all, Honor of Kings was only a substitute for Zhang Zhaomu; rubbing glass on a phone was nowhere near as satisfying as gaming in front of a computer screen.
It was just that Chen Zhenzhen couldn't come out every evening, so the two of them often played mobile games together.
He was about to browse Taobao when a message notification suddenly popped up.
"[Have You Complained About Bing Chan Today?] Bing Chan (special alert): ..."
The group was far too active, so Zhang Zhaomu had muted notifications. He had, however, set a special alert for the group owner, so he wouldn't miss any side stories Bing Chan might post.
He tapped the message, and the group chat opened.
Bing Chan: "How do people usually find a locksmith's phone number?"
A flood of messages immediately followed: "What happened? Did the dog author go out without the keys?"
"Don't tell me this is another excuse to ask for a day off?"
"It's already ten! The dog author still hasn't updated!"
Zhang Zhaomu casually tagged Bing Chan and replied, "It mainly depends on where you live. If it's a residential complex with property management, just ask them. They'll have contact information. If it's an old neighborhood, aren't locksmiths' little ads plastered everywhere? Look around and you're bound to find one."
To his surprise, Bing Chan quickly tagged him back: "Thanks! I live in an old neighborhood, and there really was a locksmith's number on the wall nearby. I never paid much attention before. I thought they were all those little ads for porn scams."
The keyword had been triggered, and messages suddenly began popping up much faster.
"There really are a lot of those little ads. I tried one once, and they wouldn't even come over. First thing they did was tell me to download some app."
"Details!"
"Nothing more to tell. I'm not stupid. The app had a virus, so I didn't dare download it."
"Override the risk warning and install it anyway! If you don't even have that much courage, how are you going to bring your little brother happiness?"
"I will not tolerate such cowardice!"
"Guys, don't joke about this. You really can't download those apps. If you do, there's a good chance your contacts, texts, and photo albums will all be scraped. Having your personal information exposed is a small matter, but if you get blackmailed or something, it's a real hassle."
"True. I was once screen-recorded while video chatting with someone and got blackmailed out of tens of thousands."
"There's an expert here? Was that video chat of yours aboveboard?"
"..."
Zhang Zhaomu lurked in the group for a while, feeling only that public morals were going downhill. Though he inwardly disdained the group members' sleaziness, he still quietly saved some of the more choice pictures. Then he realized how long the conversation had been off track and tagged the group owner again:
"@Bing Chan, how's it going?"
There was no reply in the group, but a private message soon popped up instead.
Bing Chan (temporary group chat): "Thanks for asking. I've gotten in touch with a locksmith, but he lives far away and said it would take him at least an hour to get here."
Zhang Zhaomu was a little surprised that Bing Chan had actually messaged him privately. But given the current atmosphere in the group, he figured that if the message had been posted there, it would have been swallowed up by a sea of smut in an instant.
Chatting with the author of a novel he quite liked was a novel experience, and Zhang Zhaomu's interest was immediately piqued. He typed quickly.
Jasmine Meow: "It's already very late, so it's normal for it to take a while."