The incident with Lu Yuanyuan cast a shadow over the entire Zhou family. In the end, she still reported it to the police, though no one knew exactly how much of a role Ji Chenai had played in her decision.

Somehow, Zhou Yaoyun also caught wind of the situation. He sent an email to Ji Chenai, telling him to inform him immediately if anything happened at home.

Ji Chenai could only agree. In return, he asked Zhou Yaoyun what he had been up to lately. Zhou Yaoyun responded with a few photos of himself. He looked thinner than before, with a freshly shaved, close-cropped haircut. In one of the pictures, he was flashing a peace sign at the camera, seeming to be doing well.

Ji Chenai’s positive energy level was still over 300 points away from reaching Level 1. Over the past few days, he had been visiting Lu Yuanyuan while also picking up trash whenever he could, hoping to reach Level 1 before the end of the month.

A week later, Lu Yuanyuan was discharged from the hospital. Physically, she hadn’t suffered any major injuries, but her mental state was in shambles. In just a few days, she had lost so much weight that she was barely recognizable.

According to Wang Zhixiu, Lu Yuanyuan had a boyfriend, but after the incident, he only made a single phone call and never even visited her.

As a man himself, Ji Chenai found the boyfriend’s behavior utterly disgraceful. Now, whenever the sun’s glare became unbearable, he would go find Lu Yuanyuan to chat. Over time, the two grew closer.

One morning in the middle of the month, Ji Chenai went to visit Lu Yuanyuan as usual. He knocked on the door, only to be greeted by Wang Zhiping, her face streaked with tears.

“Auntie, what happened?”

Wang Zhiping simply shook her head and motioned for him to come inside.

After stepping into the living room, Ji Chenai noticed that Lu Yuanyuan was nowhere to be seen. Her bedroom door, however, was tightly shut.

“Auntie, what’s going on?”

Wang Zhiping sat down on the living room sofa, her expression dark and weary. “Xiao Qin, why is life so damn hard?” she sighed. Her gaze dimmed as she recounted what had just happened at home.

Over the past few weeks, with the support of her family and her own efforts to adjust, Lu Yuanyuan’s mental state had improved significantly. She had even started going outside again and was willing to talk to her parents.

But then, just two days ago, a news report on TV sent her spiraling back into distress.

Ji Chenai asked what the news was about.

Wang Zhiping told him—it was a story about a young girl who was assaulted while returning home late at night.

She continued, explaining that the perpetrator’s identity had not been revealed in the news. But the moment Lu Yuanyuan saw the report, she felt a deep sense of shared outrage. Though she hadn’t been going outside, she had still been browsing the internet. After watching the report, her anger surged, and she went online to learn more about the case.

That was when she stumbled upon comments that made her blood run cold.

“Out alone this late? She was asking for it.”

“Yeah, just look at what she was wearing—clearly out looking for trouble.”

“That guy is just unlucky. Maybe it was just a business deal gone wrong, and now he’s being falsely accused.”

Comments like these struck a nerve in Lu Yuanyuan, hitting her most sensitive wound. Enraged, she smashed her laptop and then stormed into her bedroom like a madwoman.

Wang Zhiping was terrified. In a panic, she scrambled to find the keys and unlocked the bedroom door, only to see Lu Yuanyuan sitting at her desktop computer, her expression vacant, frantically pounding away at the keyboard.

At first, Wang Zhiping thought it was just an outburst—that after a while, Lu Yuanyuan would calm down but she hadn’t expected this.

Lu Yuanyuan sat there for three whole days, refusing to eat or drink, locked in a relentless online battle with those faceless commenters. Her fingers swelled from nonstop typing, yet she still wouldn’t let go of the keyboard.

As Wang Zhiping finished explaining, tears welled up again. “Xiao Qin, you’re the only one Yuanyuan is willing to talk to these days. If you can… please try to talk some sense into her. Her father and I have said everything we could, but nothing is working.”

Ji Chenai nodded and followed Wang Zhiping toward the bedroom.

Just then, a voice suddenly chimed in—Xiao Qi. “Hmm, here’s our chance!”

Ji Chenai frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“He who humiliates others shall be humiliated himself,” Xiao Qi replied cryptically.

Ji Chenai was about to press for an explanation, but by then, they had already reached the bedroom.

When Wang Zhiping pushed the door open, Ji Chenai immediately saw Lu Yuanyuan—her hair a disheveled mess, her face deathly pale.

Lu Yuanyuan barely reacted to the door opening. Head down, she continued typing furiously, her eyes devoid of emotion. It was clear she was in a terrible state.

Ji Chenai sat behind her, silently watching the screen for a long time. Once he got a good grasp of the posts she had been responding to, he finally spoke in a gentle voice.

“Cousin?”

Lu Yuanyuan’s fingers froze for a moment before she slowly turned her head to look at him.

Ji Chenai didn’t waste words. Instead, he activated Sunlight’s Gaze on himself and said, “Cousin, take a break. I’ll handle the insults for you.”

Lu Yuanyuan’s lips trembled slightly before she forced out a twisted, bitter smile. “Xiao Qin… I wish these people would just die. Why don’t they… just die?”

Ji Chenai spoke softly, “Cousin, get some rest first. When you wake up, we’ll keep cursing them out together.”

She stared at him for a long time before finally, ever so slightly, nodding her head.

The moment she lay down on the bed, she fell asleep. But even in sleep, her brows remained furrowed, as if haunted by restless dreams.

Ji Chenai moved to her computer desk, scanning through the posts and replies once more.

The anonymity of the internet allowed people to spew their worst venom without restraint. The thread on the screen was no exception. Some commenters had even started calling Lu Yuanyuan a whore, claiming that she must have deserved it, and that’s why she was so emotional about the case.

Even as a man, Ji Chenai felt a wave of disgust reading those words. He could only imagine how much worse it must have been for Lu Yuanyuan—the one who had actually suffered through it all.

Xiao Qi had obviously seen the comments as well. With a chilling tone, it muttered, “Sometimes, I really wish I could just cut off these people’s fingers.”

Ji Chenai wholeheartedly agreed.

Though Xiao Qi could be rather dark at times, it was, after all, a positive energy system. At most, it could inflict psychological punishment on these people—but it would never actually harm them physically.

“Severe negative energy detected,” Xiao Qi announced. “I recommend activating ‘The Slanderer’s Redemption.’”

This was a skill Ji Chenai had unlocked when he was kidnapped, but he had never used it before. Now, he was curious about what it could do.

If it worked anything like “The Cruel One’s Awakening,” then it was bound to be interesting.

Ji Chenai finally understood why public opinion had taken such a bizarre turn. Sure, there were always a few deranged men in the world, but most were normal. Any man who said a woman deserved what happened to her ought to experience firsthand what it felt like to have his own dignity shattered.

Xiao Qi seemed to follow his train of thought perfectly. “I looked into the source of these posts…”

Ji Chenai asked, “Who hired the internet trolls?”

“Remember that news story Wang Zhiping mentioned?”

“Of course,” Ji Chenai replied.

“Well, these trolls were hired by that rapist himself,” Xiao Qi revealed before briefly explaining why the man had orchestrated an online smear campaign.

The more Ji Chenai listened, the darker his mood became.

So that bastard’s crime had been deliberately exposed to the media—part of some internal power struggle behind the scenes. The situation had spiraled into chaos, and although his identity hadn’t been publicly revealed, things weren’t looking good for him.

To control the online narrative—or more accurately, to divert public attention—he had hired an army of trolls to flood the internet, deliberately picking fights with anyone who spoke out against him.

By shifting public focus onto these internet trolls and their absurd comments, people’s attention naturally drifted away from the real perpetrator.

And honestly, the plan had been working—until Ji Chenai and Xiao Qi got involved.

“The Slanderer’s Redemption.”

The trolls continued posting, just as they had before—but this time, their messages changed.

“I’m a paid troll. I’ve spread so many lies. I feel truly ashamed.”

Most of them posted similar confessions, while a few even went as far as exposing their employer’s name and the exact instructions they had received.

The internet collectively froze.

Netizens stared at their screens, stunned by the sudden shift in tone. The entire comment section had turned into an eerie chorus of self-incrimination.

Ji Chenai rested his chin on his hand.

For some reason, he suddenly felt like having a cigarette.

Lu Yuanyuan had a nightmare.

She dreamed she was walking endlessly through a dark alley, with a swarm of snakes slithering after her, snapping at her heels. She ran and ran, but just as she was about to stumble and fall into the writhing mass, she suddenly woke up.

Her vacant eyes slowly opened, staring blankly at the ceiling. It took a while before her gaze finally regained focus.

Ji Chenai heard the movement and asked. “Cousin, are you okay?”

Lu Yuanyuan turned her head to look at him. The dazed emptiness in her eyes softened slightly. “I’m fine… Are you still posting?”

Ji Chenai nodded.

That nap seemed to have calmed her down a lot. She let out a weary sigh. “Forget it. Stop posting. No matter how much we say, nothing will change. Let them say whatever they want.”

=^_^=