Chapter 295: The Movie Emperor’s Fangirl
Nan Xun entered Little Eight’s Star Space. One human and one beast were still shaken to the core.
Little Eight spun in circles on the spot and let out a howl. “Holy crap, that lunatic Gong Mo Ran actually trapped your primordial spirit inside your body! Damn—good thing your baby here has some real skills. Otherwise you’d be done for. You’d be stuck in a corpse and unable to leave!”
Little Eight kept rambling on. “It was just a mid-level world, yet that big boss was ridiculously overpowered, don’t you think? This great one spent a full five days breaking that damn formation to yank your soul out. Honestly, I’m still amazing—just that casting spells inside Star Space seriously weakens my divine power. If I’d gone out there in person, I could’ve taken you away in seconds…”
Nan Xun rubbed her temples and said softly, “Little Eight, can you be quiet for a moment? Just a moment. My head hurts.”
Little Eight responded with an “oh.” Its tall, handsome beast body finally stopped spinning and stood motionless beside Nan Xun, turning into a living beast statue.
After a while, it couldn’t help brushing her shoulder gently with its beautiful tail and asked softly, “Darling, what’s wrong?” After a pause, it muttered, “That world’s big boss was actually pretty sly—knew how to play dirty. So after you left, he’ll definitely live just fine. Don’t worry.”
Nan Xun said quietly, “It’s nothing. I just got too immersed in the role. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
Little Eight’s eyes flickered as it grinned. “Darling, you’re definitely going to love the next world. It’s absolutely one where you’ll shine and really show your skills!”
Nan Xun didn’t ask what kind of world it was. She just nodded. “Then let’s go. One day in Star Space equals several months outside—we shouldn’t waste time.”
“Got it!” Little Eight replied cheerfully.
The next moment, Nan Xun’s soul twisted violently. In the blink of an eye, she left Star Space.
Before she could fully open her eyes, Nan Xun felt a sharp pain in her wrist and heard the sound of liquid dripping steadily.
As her consciousness slowly returned, Nan Xun immediately looked at her wrist.
There was a fresh knife cut on it, blood continuously welling out. Nan Xun cried out in shock and hurried to find something to bandage it and stop the bleeding.
“Damn it, Little Eight! How did you let me almost die the moment I arrived? Before, at worst, I’d come back three days before death—this time it’s the very day of death!”
Little Eight immediately stuffed a blood-replenishing pill into her hand. “Aiya, I can’t control the timing that precisely. Anyway, with me here, even if we arrive late you won’t die. Relax.”
Nan Xun felt she still needed to go to the hospital for proper treatment. As she sorted through this body’s memories, she suddenly remembered something and sharply glanced at the desktop computer directly in front of her.
Holy—!
A livestream?
“Little Eight, get your ass out here!!” Nan Xun roared inwardly.
She rushed over and, with a single glance, caught sight of the countless comments scrolling beside the stream.
“OMG, Blonde Sis is actually livestreaming suicide—aaah, I’m crying!”
“This is fake, right? Who’s dumb enough to really kill themselves?”
“It’s real! Didn’t you see just now? She slit her wrist with a fruit knife—the blood was dripping down nonstop. So scary!”
“Psycho. Doing anything for fame, even throwing her life away. I despise people who cheapen life like this. If she dies, she deserves it…”
“Should we call the police?”
“Huh? Blonde Sis is alive again—look, she’s walking over…”
Nan Xun immediately closed the livestream window and rolled her eyes weakly.
She looked at herself in the mirror. A completely unfamiliar face was reflected back—heavy makeup, non-mainstream smoky eyes, slightly pouty lips painted a blazing red, face caked thick with powder, pale as a vampire. Her long hair was dyed bright gold, so flashy it almost blinded her. Two huge hoop earrings dangled from her ears…
Tsk. This styling was truly something else.
Nan Xun rummaged through the cabinet, found a mask to put on, and hurried to the nearest hospital.
When the doctor saw the wound, she stitched it up while kindly lecturing Nan Xun at length, telling her not to think of ending her life.
“Thank you, doctor. I’ve already figured things out,” Nan Xun said.
The doctor froze, then couldn’t help laughing a little.
Doctor? Most people called her “Doctor” or “Director.” This was the first time anyone had ever called her “doctor” in that old-fA-Shioned way.
Nan Xun returned to her so-called princess bedroom and flopped onto the soft bed with a thud.
The apartment itself was decent—unfortunately, it was rented.
She had now transmigrated into a world with extremely advanced internet culture. Anyone could livestream to make some money, as long as viewers were willing to tip.
In this circle, the body she now inhabited—Shan Shui—was somewhat well-known.
Shan Shui was famous for her golden hair, earning her the nickname “Blonde Sis.” She was actually only twenty years old, but her overly mature makeup made people think she was a married woman in her thirties.
Shan Shui was a very insecure girl. Her grades were poor, so she attended a vocational high school, majoring in art. But during those years, she didn’t focus on studying at all. The girls there loved comparing themselves to one another, and many people praised her looks, saying she could totally become a celebrity.
If only one person had said it, Shan Shui might not have cared. But when many people said the same thing, she started believing it herself. Unfortunately, she had never studied acting, nor singing or dancing—she knew nothing. Yet she dreamed of becoming a superstar based solely on her looks.
By the time she finally woke up to reality, it was already too late. She hadn’t learned what she should have and instead picked up plenty of bad habits, like vanity and pride.
Clearly struggling, she still didn’t dare tell her rural parents, afraid of worrying them. Later, to make money, she entered the world of internet celebrities—and never left. Her aesthetic sense was bizarre; not only did she dress herself like a married woman, but her blunt, outspoken personality also offended many people.
Shan Shui had grown tired of her current life, even feeling hopeless. Day after day, she watched her male idol’s films and TV shows, obsessively gazing at that flawless, handsome face. That was the only thing that kept her going until now.
Today, Shan Shui hadn’t actually planned to commit suicide. She was just desperate to become famous, to get a little closer to her idol, so she used such a stupid method. She simply misjudged the force and truly ended up killing herself.
Little Eight said, “This Shan Shui’s obsession runs too deep. I’ve never seen a girl act like such a pervert, stalking a man like that. Tsk—her computer is full of her idol’s works and photos. If you told her to lick her idol’s toes, she’d probably be so happy she wouldn’t sleep for days.”
Nan Xun: …
“Little Eight, this time you already made me deal with a perverted big boss with 100 evil intent. And now you’ve turned me into a little pervert too!”
Little Eight chuckled. “But I gave you a pretty face. This Shan Shui is really beautiful.”
Nan Xun ignored it and opened an encrypted folder on the computer, randomly clicking on a video titled Bathing Handsome Man.
Water rippled gently, its surface strewn with fallen maple leaves. Suddenly, in one moment, a long-haired man with eight clearly defined abs burst out of the water. He lifted a hand to sweep his wet hair back, revealing a full forehead and a flawless face.
His gaze shifted. The man suddenly looked straight toward the camera, narrowed his long eyes, and curled his thin, beautiful lips into a smile—wicked and seductive.
Thump.
Nan Xun’s heart slammed hard once.
Two streams of nosebleed flowed down.
