Chapter 303 | Chapter 304 | Chapter 305
Chapter 303: Melt
When Gu Qinghuan emerged from the meeting room, Bao Qingsong’s makeup was already finished. Since it wasn’t a stage performance, the lighting for the livestream was fairly natural, so his makeup looked quite unobtrusive. To put it simply, he looked—pale-skinned, red-lipped, and dark-browed.
Gu Qinghuan circled Bao Qingsong, inspecting him up and down. “Not bad, Bao Qingsong. If you spruce yourself up like this, you could practically debut as an idol.”
Bao Qingsong wanted to touch his own eyebrows, but remembering the brow pencil and powder, he hastily retracted his hand. He said with a pained expression, “They even groomed my brows, saying they were too unruly.”
“Did they put foundation on you too? Your face looks so smooth.” Gu Qinghuan was itching to pull out her phone and take a picture.
“Is that what foundation is called? Anyway, they squeezed some flesh-toned liquid onto my face, and it turned white instantly,” Bao Qingsong said.
As soon as he finished speaking, he noticed Gu Qinghuan whipping out her phone and immediately went into a state of hyper-vigilance. “Class Monitor, what are you trying to do?”
“You’re the head of intelligence; you’re sharp enough to have guessed, right?” Gu Qinghuan raised her phone. “Even if I don’t take a photo, the livestream will leave behind high-definition footage anyway! Abandon all resistance!”
“Even if that’s the case, delay it for a while longer! I know you’re definitely going to post it in the class group chat!” Bao Qingsong turned and sprinted away.
Unfortunately, he didn’t even make it two steps before Bao Rujian grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back. “Running off to where? The livestream starts in a bit; go properly memorize your script.”
Bao Qingsong, reasonably quick-witted, immediately turned and stood facing the corner. That way, no matter which angle Gu Qinghuan chose, she couldn’t get a full shot of him, leaving her with no choice but to give up in frustration.
However, she only gave up on exposing his makeup ahead of schedule, not on roasting him. She snapped a photo of Bao Qingsong standing in the corner and posted it to the group chat.
Gu Qinghuan: [Image]
Gu Qinghuan: [He won’t let me take a frontal photo, so I can’t share it with you all early. Sadness.]
Shen Jianwei: [What is he doing? Is he standing in the corner for punishment?]
Ji Tianxiao: [What’s wrong with a frontal photo? Why won’t he let you take it?]
Gu Qinghuan: [Bao Qingsong is wearing makeup. I think he looks pretty good, but he won’t let me take a picture.]
Yao Shali: [It’s fine. Once the livestream starts, he’ll have high-definition, unedited black history preserved for the entire internet to see.]
Bao Qingsong: [I’m in the group chat, you know.]
Yao Shali: [Sorry, forgot.]
Yuan Wuwei: [Oh right, the livestream is starting soon. I’m going into the livestream room.]
Lin Zhulu: [Remind me when it’s his turn. I have a feeling the first part will be about technical principles, and that’s too hard to understand.]
Gu Qinghuan nodded in agreement. Exactly, I probably won’t understand it either. She hadn’t even had the chance to ask Bao Qingsong when his segment was before a staff member called out from the entrance: “You can head to the studio to prepare now.”
Bao Qingsong lifted his head from the corner and scurried toward the studio, with Gu Qinghuan and Bao Rujian trailing close behind.
“Sister Bao, are you participating in the livestream too?” Gu Qinghuan asked.
“No, I’m just accompanying him as his guardian,” Bao Rujian shook her head. Besides, she and Gu Qinghuan were now acquaintances; having her “escort” Gu Qinghuan would also help put the girl at ease.
The studio was at the far end of the hallway. Entering it felt to Gu Qinghuan like she had walked onto the set of a television program, complete with a stage, guest seating, and rows of seats for an audience. However, there weren’t many people in the audience area at the moment; those who were seated were members of the development team who were slated to appear on camera later.
Bao Qingsong seemed to have a good rapport with his team; after entering, many people greeted him, and he responded with practiced ease. Hearing them call him “Melt,” Gu Qinghuan asked curiously: “Is your online handle Melt?”
“It’s Melt on this specific forum,” Bao Qingsong emphasized. He was the head of intelligence, after all; how could he possibly use the same handle across different platforms?
“Melt… is that taken from the word ‘melt’?” Gu Qinghuan mused.
Bao Qingsong admitted this quite readily: “Yeah. When I first joined the forum, I used the default generated username. Later, once I understood what everyone was doing and joined the team, I changed it to this.”
When snow melts, it brings the spring, symbolizing the arrival of hope. The AI they were developing would surely allow those searching for their loved ones to feel the warmth of spring.
Hearing Bao Qingsong’s explanation to Gu Qinghuan, the teammates nearby opened their eyes wide: “You kid, your handle actually has that kind of meaning? You hid that well!”
Someone else went to notify the show’s producer: “How about we adjust the script? Add the story behind Melt’s handle; it feels quite appropriate.”
Bao Qingsong’s expression stiffened. He had been memorizing that script for ages, and now they were changing it just like that? He shouldn’t have explained it to Gu Qinghuan!
Gu Qinghuan: Nothing to do with me.
She found a spot with a good angle to sit down, watching the group bustle around preparing for the livestream, while simultaneously chatting with everyone in the class group. Once the livestream commenced, she opened the online chat room, ready to monitor the barrage comments and netizen reactions.
While official livestreams usually didn’t have high traffic, this one involved AI and missing persons, making it highly specific; the people coming to watch were all quite friendly. As Lin Zhulu had guessed, the first part of the program consisted of official introductions, publicity, and the core development team explaining the technical principles and the development process.
The moment Bao Qingsong was called onto the stage, Gu Qinghuan hurriedly sent a message to the group chat telling everyone to watch. The chat room grew significantly more lively.
[Are you telling me this kid participated in the development too?!]
[He’s not that young, surely? After summer vacation, he’s heading into his second year of high school.]
[Other people’s second year of high school vs. my second year of high school…]
[Judging from his content, he probably wasn’t the main lead, but he did a lot of auxiliary work. Truly impressive.]
[The handle ‘Melt’ was a later addition? It has such a good meaning. What a good kid.]
On stage, Bao Qingsong finished explaining the origin of his forum handle and exhaled secretly. Thank goodness. Although there hadn’t even been time for a dress rehearsal, he had already explained it to Gu Qinghuan just a moment ago, so repeating it wasn’t too shaky.
Just as he was thinking this, the host asked an impromptu question based on the barrage comments online: “Someone wants to know, what kept you going throughout the process?”
Bao Qingsong had prepared for such ad-lib questions and knew how to answer. But as he opened his mouth, he couldn’t resist glancing in Gu Qinghuan’s direction.
“Actually, when I first started, I just wanted to do what I could.” Bao Qingsong recalled his mindset at the time.
“Back then, I learned about some people who had suffered incredibly serious harm. Regrettably, I didn’t personally possess the capability to save them, and I only managed to find them because I needed them to provide testimony.”
“The scars were indelible for them, and I was fully prepared to be rejected, after all, picking at old scabs is extremely painful.”
“However, to help others who might share their experiences, they bravely stepped forward, exposing their wounds to me.”
“I was moved by them, and I began to ponder: could I put my own strength to better use and save others?”
“And thus, Melt was born.”
“You could say that it was their courage to step forward that inspired me, and that is how I was able to persist.”
The host was somewhat surprised, posing a follow-up question on behalf of the audience: “How are those people doing now?”
Bao Qingsong wore a smile: “They have already received tangible help. At the same time, the villains who once harmed them have received the punishment they deserve.”
“Today, I have proven that I can achieve this. Now, in the future, I want to do even better.”
Chapter 304: Good Night, Bao Qingsong
[Do you want to start over?]
Who… who is speaking?
The pain—the agony radiating through every limb and bone—made it impossible for Bao Qingsong to think clearly. The voice that had just appeared in his mind returned, its content entirely indiscernible, raspy like the whispering of some alien entity. Then, the physical pain suddenly vanished, and Bao Qingsong’s clarity slowly returned.
He was lying inside a car that had been mangled beyond recognition. A massive hole had been punched through the windshield, and within the shattered glass, a mosaic-like crack had emerged. The edges of this crack flickered, as if fighting against something; as he stared at it, the rift seemed to grow larger and larger.
[You haven’t achieved your revenge yet; your enemies are still living comfortably. Are you truly resigned to dying just like this?]
Of course he wasn’t resigned to dying like this, but—wait, no, there was something wrong with that line…
Bao Qingsong gasped for breath, his eyes wide as he gazed at the sky beyond the car window.
The voice resumed: [I can send you back to the past, give you the chance to start over. You can save your sister, you can take your revenge on the Yan family, and make those bastards experience the exact same despair and pain you once felt.]
Back to the past? Bao Qingsong recalled those deeply buried memories: the university acceptance letter he had torn to shreds, the funeral portraits of his mother and sister… If he started over, would things truly be different?
The rift inched closer and closer to Bao Qingsong. Something was surging within it—slimy, filth-like tentacles extending toward him, probing in his direction.
[As long as you agree, we will…]
The voice, which had previously been filled with allure, suddenly turned jarringly shrill: [Damn it, it’s you again!]
The moment the thought what is happening flickered into Bao Qingsong’s mind, a completely different set of memories flooded his consciousness.
He saw a brightly lit television studio. He was seated beside a host who was smiling, asking him various questions. He heard his own voice answering those questions with composure; from the words spoken, it was clear he had collaborated with others to complete the development of a person-finding AI.
Along with his words, fragmented memories followed: he saw himself in an online forum debating technical implementation, and he saw a monitor screen left glowing late into the night. The letters on the surface of his keyboard were worn away until only faint traces remained, and on his desk sat artificial tears and eye drops.
His mother had brought him fruit, reminding him not to sleep too late; when he had expressed anxiety that his exam grades might suffer, she only smiled and said, “It’s alright, it’s just one exam. What you’re doing now is more important.” His sister, returning from working overtime, would knock on his door, and upon seeing he was still awake, would yank him up, shove him into his quilt, and order him to get some rest immediately.
Bao Qingsong wanted to laugh, but he felt something hot and damp rolling out from the corners of his eyes.
He saw himself in front of his computer screen, hesitating for a long time while editing his username, before slowly typing the three characters: “Melt.”
“The name ‘Melt’ is indeed taken from the word ‘melt.’ When the snow melts, it brings the spring. I hope this AI can help those who are trapped in the bitter winter of searching for their loved ones welcome the warmth of spring.”
He heard himself say this. Because of his nervousness, he had spoken a bit fast, but every word sounded so clear, echoing in his mind. The host asked him what had supported him in persevering until now. His gaze shifted, looking toward a girl seated in the audience. Even though the lights were focused on the stage and the audience area was dim, he could sense that, in his eyes, that girl was as bright as the sun. The girl noticed his gaze, her eyes crinkling into a smile, and she slowly, silently mouthed: You—can—do—it.
Actually, due to the distance, her lip movements were hard to decipher, but Bao Qingsong simply knew—she was cheering him on.
Fragmented memories reappeared: memories of those strong girls, memories of his entire class working in unison to confront the Yan and Wei families.
It was so good, Bao Qingsong thought, his expression relaxing, though the heat in his eyes wouldn’t stop.
The seductive voice was now roaring: [It’s you again, you bastard!]
Another voice rang out, so calm it bordered on mechanical: [I have already requested protection from the world; you cannot consume me.]
Having encountered the “bugs” last time, the system had naturally protected itself, requesting the highest level of protection from the world that very day. The world had granted the request swiftly. The bugs possessed a collective consciousness; as long as one of them discovered the system, the others would retain the impression. Naturally, it had to protect the system that had been compromised.
It seems the failure to seduce Lin Zhulu last time was a significant setback for the bugs, the system thought. Otherwise, why would they be so frantic and exasperated at the mere mention of it?
Bao Qingsong listened quietly to the clash between the two voices, and the memories in his mind reached their conclusion.
“In the future, I want to do even better.” Although he no longer had a future, that version of himself was still striving forward. He had nearly become a computer science student, so he naturally understood that while code could be duplicated, life could never be replicated.
“I…” he finally opened his mouth, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders. “What I wanted… was never revenge.”
His sister had indeed sacrificed herself, but she wasn’t the first in their family to do so. His father, his sister—they didn’t face the villains out of a desire for revenge, but to ensure the villains received the punishment they were due, and to ensure no one else would be harmed.
During his time embedded within Jinding, he had possessed many opportunities to act, but would simply letting those people die be enough? What he wanted wasn’t just to return justice to the victims; it was also to prevent the next Jinding from appearing in the world, to pinch those stirring, wicked impulses in the bud, and to protect more people. As long as people chose to do evil, they would live their whole lives in fear. Even without him, new “Bao Qingsongs” would emerge. The families and friends of those victims, and even righteous strangers, could all become the guillotine for those monsters.
So, this was enough.
“Just knowing someone else is doing this, just knowing someone succeeded… that is enough.” Bao Qingsong barely twitched the corners of his lips, revealing a smile at the very end of his life.
He could go see his family with no regrets. He had been waiting for this day for a very long time.
Watching Bao Qingsong cease to breathe, the bug’s fury made the very space oscillate: [Damn you, System! I’m going to devour you!]
Yet those surging tentacles were unable to touch the system in the slightest.
System: [It’s useless. This world-line has stabilized; there is nothing more you can do.]
As if responding to the system’s words, the space occupied by the rift suddenly solidified. Those mosaic-like phantoms were like a shattered mirror, crumbling into piece after piece, falling to the ground before slowly disintegrating into nothingness. Being discovered by the bugs meant they had also discovered the bugs. With protection in place, the system could naturally notify the world safely to exterminate this bug.
The system watched the fragments of the bug: [Bao Qingsong never actually wanted to be reborn; it was you who tried to force him.]
The changes that could have been triggered by Bao Qingsong’s rebirth would have been too immense. Without even mentioning Bao Qingsong and his family, the involvement of the Yan family would have rewritten the fates of countless people. Some might have been for the better, but others might have been far worse—for example, the entertainer Lou Cheng, who secretly helped other girls inside Jinding. Once Jinding discovered they were being targeted, they would have tightened internal controls; Lou Cheng would likely have been exposed and headed toward a far more tragic fate.
The inherently greedy bugs had even been willing to expend energy to reduce Bao Qingsong’s pain, all to buy his trust. But bugs were just bugs—they would never understand the hearts of humans.
Until the very last moment of his life, his will remained brilliant and dazzling.
[Personal reward distribution complete.]
[Good night, Bao Qingsong.]
Chapter 305: Changing Seats
The livestream came to an end. Bao Qingsong stepped off the stage and let out a long, heavy breath.
Gu Qinghuan clapped in congratulation. “Congrats on smoothly finishing the stream! You put on quite a performance!”
Bao Qingsong’s palms were slick with sweat. He prepared to go wash his hands. “If they hadn’t changed the question at the last minute, I could have done even better.”
“You did beautifully as it is. Everyone thought you looked pretty sharp,” Gu Qinghuan said, offering a thumbs-up.
The moment Bao Qingsong heard the word “everyone,” he developed a terrible premonition. He whipped out his phone, and the second he opened the group chat, a massive wave of screenshots from his livestream flooded his vision.
Shen Jianwei: [The Class Monitor was right. Bao Qingsong could totally debut as an idol after getting that makeup done.]
Qin Yue: [Wait, it already got to Bao Qingsong? I just fell asleep.]
Jiang Chuchu: [You got hypnotized, didn’t you?]
Murong Tianjiao: [Ahhh! This foundation shade looks like a great match for me! Bao Qingsong, ask the makeup artist for me!]
Ouyang Wushuang: [Do you even have money left to buy new foundation? Didn’t you just custom-order a wig and costume?]
Murong Tianjiao: [Uh, how about I just leave it in my shopping cart for now?]
Lin Zhulu: [Bao Qingsong has certainly become quite articulate.]
Ming Xiaolan: [It’s more like everyone has become incredibly talkative over the course of this past academic year.]
Xu Xinghe: [Class Monitor, do you have any leads on why everyone has ‘evolved’ like this?]
Gu Qinghuan: [Oh my, my reception here is terrible. I can’t receive any messages at all.]
Tao Shenxing: [As the saying goes, like class monitor, like class.]
Everyone joyfully discussed Bao Qingsong’s speech and performance, even coordinating to register accounts for this missing-persons AI to help enrich the database according to the user manual.
The official name of the AI tool was “Let’s Go Home.” On one hand, it was a call to those who had yet to return home. On the other hand, the word “Home” was being interpreted as a shared hub—just as a bar was a place to drink and a net cafe was a place to surf the web, “Let’s Go Home” was a space where everyone discussed how to help others find their way back.
It sounded a bit like a corny joke, but the development team actually quite liked it.
Bao Qingsong no longer wanted to see the screenshots of himself in the group chat. Looking at them too much made his own face feel completely foreign. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he stated earnestly, “Class Monitor, let’s go have lunch.”
At the mention of food, Gu Qinghuan’s attention was instantly diverted. “Where are we eating? What are we having?”
The answer was—the cafeteria of the radio and television station.
Wearing her temporary pass, Gu Qinghuan obediently followed Bao Rujian and Bao Qingsong to get her food, and they sat at the same table to eat. To be completely fair, the TV station’s cafeteria food didn’t taste terrible, but it wasn’t particularly good either.
Gu Qinghuan wore a grief-stricken expression. “Do you remember what we ate the day before yesterday?”
Bao Qingsong refrained from replying, so Gu Qinghuan answered her own question: “We ate at Yunjin Tower! The buffet at Yunjin Tower! Now look at today!”
Bao Qingsong: Comparison breeds misery.
That being said, Gu Qinghuan still ate very earnestly. No matter what, wasting food was a terrible thing to do!
Bao Qingsong changed the subject. “By the way, Class Monitor, what are your plans for the summer vacation?”
Gu Qinghuan thought about it. “Just staying at home, I guess? Our family doesn’t have any immediate plans to travel out of town.”
The Gu family had already purchased a new car, a new-energy electric vehicle, and had even installed a charging pile at their private parking space in the residential community for it. With the new car, it was far more convenient for Gu Haiyan or Wang Jia’an to pick up and drop off Gu Qinghuan on rainy days, and they no longer had to worry about running out of space on an electric scooter when buying a massive amount of groceries at the supermarket.
However, considering the car accident they had been involved in during their trip last summer, the Gu family still harbored some psychological trauma regarding self-driving tours. Consequently, the family had unanimously voted this year to skip traveling to other provinces and instead just stroll around the outskirts of the city.
Gu Qinghuan highly approved of this. She wanted to keep a close eye on everyone’s situations anyway; if anything occurred, she wanted to take countermeasures immediately, which would be highly inconvenient if she left town.
According to the current progress, she had already completed the missions for five people: Yu Xin, Xie Xiangxue, Bao Qingsong, Jiang Chuchu, and Lin Zhulu. Xu Xinghe’s mission was systematically moving forward. Gu Qinghuan deduced that it wouldn’t count as complete until Xu Xinghe officially confessed and his romantic situation reached a definitive conclusion. However, judging by the rate at which the mission progress was climbing, completion was merely a matter of time; Gu Qinghuan felt immensely confident.
Aside from these six individuals, Class Three still had fifteen mission targets left. Looking strictly at the head count, her progress was lagging slightly behind. Of course, if evaluated by the concrete details of the mission progress, Gu Qinghuan’s speed was actually incredibly fast.
Gu Qinghuan intended to utilize the summer vacation to closely observe everyone’s situations and chat further with the system to see if she could glean any new insights.
After finishing lunch, Gu Qinghuan bid farewell to the Bao siblings and boarded a public bus by herself to head home. The best part of summer vacation was having an abundance of free time to use as she pleased; she could take her sweet time riding the bus back.
At this hour, there weren’t many passengers on the bus. Gu Qinghuan found a window seat to sit down, narrowing her eyes as she watched the roadside trees slip past. The leaves were a lush, vibrant green, and the sunlight filtered through the gaps between them, casting shimmering patches of light that occasionally washed across her face, bringing brief waves of warmth.
Gu Qinghuan felt thoroughly drowsy. The bus ride would take a while; should she take a quick nap? She had set a stop reminder on her phone, so she wasn’t worried about missing her destination. Even if she did oversleep, it wasn’t a major issue; she could just ride back.
She let out a yawn and was just about to doze off when the bus pulled up to a designated stop, and two young adults boarded.
The young woman walking in front looked terrible, appearing as if she might explode in fury at any second, her steps aggressive and imposing. In contrast, the young man trailing behind her carried a somewhat shameless, persistent demeanor, clinging tightly to her side.
There were still empty seats in the back rows of the bus, but the young woman chose to sit in the single seat directly in front of Gu Qinghuan. Further ahead was a row of three side-facing seats. The young man clearly wanted to stay close to her, but sitting on the side-facing seats made it inconvenient to talk to her.
Thus, he stood right next to Gu Qinghuan, squeezing out a smile. “Excuse me, could I please ask you to move to another empty seat?”
Gu Qinghuan rubbed her eyes, looked at the cold-faced young woman in front of her, and said with absolute sincerity, “Can I choose not to switch?”
The young man’s expression soured instantly. “It’s not like there aren’t other seats available. Just do me a quick favor…”
“But,” Gu Qinghuan said unhurriedly, “judging by how angry this sister is, even if I move out of the way and you sit down, she will in all probability just move to a different seat herself.”
“When that happens, you’ll have to switch seats all over again. While I’d be able to sit back in my original spot, it would be… well, how should I put it… a bit awkward, right?”
A few passengers on the bus couldn’t suppress their low snickers. Exactly! Just imagining that guy standing there like an idiot after she walks away would be incredibly embarrassing!
The young man’s face flushed with mortification. He turned to the young woman and muttered, “Gao Changying, do you really think it’s necessary to make things look this ugly?”
The woman named Gao Changying let out a cold sneer. “Nothing I do could ever look uglier than you, Tong Li—a despicable, ungrateful wretch who forgets principles the moment he sees profit.”
Having his name called out, Tong Li looked thoroughly uncomfortable. He glanced left and right, his voice dropping significantly. “For old times’ sake, there’s no need to make things look this ugly, right?”
It would have been better if he hadn’t mentioned “old times.” The moment he brought up the past, Gao Changying’s fury erupted completely. “Old times? Do you need me to remind you exactly what you promised me in the past?”
Gu Qinghuan was no longer sleepy. Her eyes were wide and glittering with life.
With fresh drama delivered right to my doorstep, why sleep? Time to dig in!
