Lu Ping had never imagined that the photo he uploaded would attract so much attention.
It was said that the Partner App had its own set of algorithms. Sometimes, meticulously edited videos from bloggers got throttled, while a casual snap of a trash can shot to the top of the hot rankings.
And Lu Ping—or rather, fake diamond—had somehow pushed that photo of the horseback-riding teen straight to countless users’ homepages.
With just that one photo, Lu Ping gained thousands of followers overnight. Every time he refreshed his backend, he watched the comment count climb endlessly—he couldn’t even keep up.
Even his previous posts got flooded by enthusiastic fans’ comments.
How fascinating. When Lu Ping was just himself, his sunsets, seascapes, and stray cats were utterly insignificant, ignored by everyone. But when he became someone else, those poorly shot photos and wistful captions suddenly took on profound meaning.
Lu Ping didn’t blame them.
After all, who didn’t love looking at a handsome guy?
Lu Ping loved it too. And not just loved it—he fantasized about being him.
When the followers first started pouring in, Lu Ping panicked, felt scared, worried. Even though wonderland had deleted his account, plenty of people in real life must have known him. What if wonderland’s friends discovered his secret? If they called him out as a thief, stealing wonderland’s life—what would he do then?
He fretted anxiously, lived in fear, even sneaking peeks at his phone during class to refresh the backend.
Lu Ping had already decided: if he got caught, he’d apologize, delete the account, and quit the app just like wonderland!
—but a day passed, two days, a week…
All was calm.
Lu Ping was like a little mouse hiding in its burrow. With the cat out of the house, he mustered the courage to poke a paw outside.
The little mouse posted another photo of wonderland—this one a shot from when the teen had attended a concert, posing with a violinist.
This time, the comments exploded.
But not because the jig was up—everyone was marveling at the violinist’s identity!
“OMG, am I seeing this right? Is that Lady Ye next to the blogger? The first Chinese woman to win gold at the Paganini International Violin Competition? And a grand slam winner of the three major violin contests?”
“Lady Ye is a lifetime honorary professor at Juilliard. Hasn’t been back to the country in years, right?”
“You’re wrong upstairs. Lady Ye recently returned by invitation for a small charity concert, but it wasn’t open to the public—just elites and officials. The donations funded a scholarship for underprivileged young musicians back home.”
“Lady Ye has a very aloof personality; hasn’t given an interview in years. The blogger actually got a photo with her, and look at her expression—so relaxed, like she’s looking at a familiar young relative.”
“Dude, who’s this Lady Ye you’re all talking about? This country bumpkin has never heard of her…”
“What’s the Paganini Competition? I know Panini burgers QAQ.”
“I get it! Anyway, the lady in the photo is super impressive, but she looks so close to the blogger… so who exactly is the blogger?”
“Wanna know who the blogger is +1”
Lu Ping: “…”
Lu Ping stared at the stacked comments, thinking that no one in the world wanted to know that guy’s identity more than he did.
How ironic. He’d envied wonderland for so long, stalked him for so long, even secretly saved his photos and fantasized about his every move… yet he knew less about wonderland than these random netizens.
That second photo easily pushed his followers past ten thousand. Even his private messages had advertisers pitching collaborations.
For some reason, Lu Ping was furious—extremely, incredibly furious.
His fingers hammered the screen, and his already cracked old phone couldn’t take the abuse; the battery dropped twenty percent in an instant.
Lu Ping fired back angrily in the DMs.
@fake diamonds: Do I look like someone who needs money?
It was an insult! A massive insult! Lu Ping figured the advertiser must be blind. A rich kid who owned an imported purebred horse and hobnobbed with world-famous violinists—why would he shill for pocket change?
Lu Ping unleashed a full block on the advertiser. But his temper flared fast and faded faster. Once the anger ebbed, he stared blankly at his profile, suddenly realizing how ridiculous he looked.
What right did he have, what standing, to get mad on wonderland’s behalf?
After all, he was just a little mouse hiding in a burrow, too scared to show his real face!
…
After posting two photos without getting busted, Lu Ping’s courage grew.
He admitted it—he was hooked on the adoration, the love. At school, he was invisible; his only friends were the stray cats by the back gate. But online, it was different. Once, he accidentally posted a period, and fans flooded the comments asking if he was okay, if he was feeling down.
Lu Ping replied to one, saying he was fine, just a slip of the finger.
The fan freaked out: “Male god noticed me! So happy!”
Lu Ping: “…”
Oh, so fans loved when the blogger interacted.
From then on, Lu Ping occasionally “picked” fans, replying to their questions.
Before each reply, he’d immerse himself as the male god, pondering wonderland’s mindset, editing drafts forever, then dropping a cool, curt response.
Sometimes, Lu Ping mixed a bit of his real self into the lies, sneaking out a glimpse.
He told fans that the stray cats in the school backyard had kittens—three little black ones like police kittens, the fourth pure white, maybe ran out of ink by then. He’d fed the mama cat and planned to find adopters once they were weaned.
Fans praised the male god’s compassion.
Reading those words, Lu Ping felt worthy of it for the first time.
Look—even the real him could be liked.
…
“Hey, I followed this new blogger on Partner recently—a super hot guy!”
During break, a few girls in the middle of the classroom chattered about the latest gossip.
Lu Ping, head down solving problems, paused his pen and perked up his ears cautiously.
“Super hot guy? I don’t trust your taste. Last time you hyped the PE rep from Class 3, I rushed over—what the heck, arm hair like a caveman, scared me to death. Regression to the apes or what?”
“I’m not joking, he’s insanely handsome! And rich with a heart of gold—owns a horse and rescued a bunch of stray kittens!”
At that, Lu Ping was dead certain they meant “him.”
It was the first time he’d encountered his “fans” offline. Nervous and thrilled, he stood with his water cup, pretending to refill at the front, shuffling slowly past the girls.
The chatter continued.
Girl A: “Oh, I know who you mean. He’s hot, but too aloof—barely replies to fans.”
Lu Ping thought: Of course he couldn’t reply too much. A male god needed distance from mere mortals!
Girl B: “Too bad he never shares details. No clue where he goes to school. Abroad, maybe? That sunset he posted was gorgeous.”
Lu Ping thought: Amsterdam! Who said abroad? I’m right here in front of you. That sunset was from Jiaojiang Bridge—you South Shore folks have no idea how beautiful the North Shore views are.
Lu Ping sank into a weird, manic glee. In that moment, he felt like a superhero hiding his identity in plain sight—or at least the sidekick.
And it was all thanks to that account with tens of thousands of followers—or more precisely, wonderland.
Too absorbed in eavesdropping, Lu Ping didn’t notice the oncoming guy. He bumped right into him, splashing most of the water from his cup onto the guy’s shoes!
“Fuck, you blind or what?!” The guy erupted. His sneakers were brand new, babied for days without a single crease—now ruined by Lu Ping’s spill!
He grabbed Lu Ping’s collar, jabbing a finger at his shoes, bellowing: “Lu Ping, you know how much these cost? Your folks could sell five hundred glutinous cakes and still couldn’t afford a pair!”
The guy was a sports specialist—tall, ripped with muscle. He hoisted Lu Ping by the collar; caught off guard, Lu Ping dangled with just his tiptoes scraping the floor.
His roar silenced the class.
Everyone gawked at the sudden clash, the room deathly quiet.
But Lu Ping, the center of it… wasn’t really scared.
He even thought wryly: Haha, finally someone knows my name.
Still, he played it smart. He showed a bit of weakness, said humbly: “Bin Ge, sorry, it was an accident. I’ll wipe your shoes clean.”
“Wipe ’em and we’re good?” Wang Bin, the sports jock, glared. “You know how expensive they are?”
“I do,” Lu Ping said. “You just told me—my parents couldn’t buy them with five hundred glutinous cakes.”
Wang Bin: “…”
Lu Ping went on: “Ours come in different prices. Plain veggie-stuffed ones are pure vegan for five bucks; the deluxe with braised intestine and egg is twelve. Not sure if your five hundred means deluxe or basic.”
Wang Bin: “…”
Lu Ping’s tone was calm, matter-of-fact, but to Wang Bin on a rampage, it was like pouring gasoline on a fire!
Especially when faint snickers rippled through the crowd…
Where did that leave Bin Ge’s face?!
Rage boiling, Wang Bin’s fists cracked, arm muscles bulging taut. A brutal school bullying incident loomed—until the crisp class bell rang from the front speakers!
The timely bell was a lifesaver. The hallway erupted in chaos as free-roaming students stampeded back to class, followed by teachers’ hurried footsteps.
Next was their homeroom teacher’s English class—she was a strict old lady who cracked down on discipline hard.
Even Wang Bin, gutsy as he was, wouldn’t bully in front of her.
He slowly released Lu Ping’s collar, grinding out: “Lu Ping, don’t you dare leave after school.”
Then he shot him a venomous glare and stomped back to his seat.
When the class teacher entered the room, the classroom had already returned to calm.
Only a puddle of water remained in the center of the room.
The class teacher asked, “Why is there water on the floor?”
Lu Ping obediently raised his hand. “Sorry, I accidentally spilled it while fetching water.”
The class teacher said, “Hurry up and wipe it up after class.”
Lu Ping replied, “Okay.”
There was no further conversation.
……
After the last self-study session ended, Lu Ping slipped away immediately.
He wasn’t a fool. Was he supposed to stick around and wait for Wang Bin to beat him up?
Unfortunately, Lu Ping was still one step too slow—the sports students were exempt from the last two self-study sessions, and Wang Bin and his buddies had already been waiting on the sports field for a while.
He was chased all over the sports field and ultimately couldn’t escape Wang Bin’s clutches.
Wang Bin was pretty clever. Instead of throwing punches right away, he dragged Lu Ping under the basketball hoop and declared that as long as Lu Ping could make one shot, the shoe incident would be written off.
What kind of basketball game was it when one skinny-armed, skinny-legged little mouse faced off against five sports specialty students?
Poor Lu Ping, all alone against five big gorillas, was ordered to run all over the court and couldn’t even touch the basketball once.
Although he couldn’t touch the basketball, the basketball frequently “touched” him. Before long, Lu Ping’s originally clean and neat school uniform was covered in deep and shallow basketball marks. Wang Bin and his crew had immense strength, and several times when the ball slammed into Lu Ping, he lost his balance and nearly fell to the ground.
Lu Ping hurt all over, in agony. He even thought, why didn’t Wang Bin just give him a quick end? Best if he smashed a ball right into his face, giving him a nosebleed and concussion, so he could stay home for a week and skip the monthly exam.
“Lu Ping, do you even know how to play basketball? I’m passing to you—catch it!” Wang Bin shouted pretentiously while hurling the basketball viciously.
This shot was full force, aimed straight at Lu Ping’s back. Lu Ping had no time to react. His back felt like it had been punched, his vision went black, and it was as if his five organs and six viscera had been jolted out from his chest! He cried out in pain, staggered, and fell straight to the ground.
……
At the same moment, inside the principal’s office on the top floor of Jiaojiang No. 1 Middle School’s Teaching Building.
The nearly bald principal looked at the middle-aged man sitting across from him on the sofa and revealed a fawning smile.
“Mr. Shen, we have received the lab equipment and funding your company donated. These contributions have greatly alleviated our school’s shortages in experimental resources. We warmly welcome your son to attend our school. I’ve already coordinated with all the homeroom teachers for Grade 2 in advance, and everyone is very welcoming of Shen Classmate’s joining…”
“I’m very sorry to interrupt you, but you’ve misunderstood.” The middle-aged man, dressed in a sharp suit, adjusted the glasses on his nose bridge and said seriously, “I’m not surnamed Shen. I’m just Shen Zong’s secretary, handling the young master’s transfer procedures on his behalf.”
Only then did the principal realize that this poised and extraordinary-looking man was not the renowned head of the Shen family, but merely one of his secretaries!
With that in mind, the principal’s gaze involuntarily fell on the teenager standing by the window.
Though called a teenager, his build already faintly resembled that of an adult. If memory served, Shen Zong’s third wife was a supermodel, and the boy had inherited his mother’s near-perfect proportions. His appearance was exceptionally striking. The only pity was his perpetually icy expression—a habitual emptiness and stillness, as if nothing in the world could stir his emotions.
He was perfect, like a soulless doll.
Since entering the office, the teenager hadn’t said a word. He had been standing quietly by the window, gazing down at the Teaching Building.
But now, this exquisite doll spoke.
“Principal,” the teenager turned around, his eyes devoid of any warmth, “a vicious bullying incident is happening on the sports field right now. Is this the school spirit of your esteemed institution?”
