GRMFBS CH29

Though internally screaming Mom, help!, Zhan Yan had no intention of actually calling his mother over. If Ji Yueming showed up, things would only get messier.

His dad had gone viral for his looks—and he was already married. People would be dying to dig into his family life. If Ji Yueming got exposed, she’d inevitably face endless scrutiny and judgment online.

But hadn’t his dad known he was famous? How could he go grocery shopping without a mask?!

Zhan Yan decided to rescue his oblivious father himself.

Zhan Yunkai was aware of his sudden fame—Xia Yuexian had told him—but he had no idea how famous he was. He didn’t understand just how rabid people could be in the age of viral trends.

So when he left the house, he only wore ordinary sunglasses—not the oversized, decorative kind—and thought that was enough.

It’s summer. Sunglasses are normal. A mask would look suspicious, right?

Thus, he strolled into the market with his grocery bag, same as always.

Zhan Yunkai wasn’t worried. He’d spent decades consciously lowering his presence, allowing him to live peacefully despite his striking appearance.

At first, it was fine. The market vendors were older, less plugged into celebrity gossip. The trouble started on his way back.

School had just let out. The streets were crowded with students—young, internet-savvy, and far more likely to recognize him.

People began pointing, whispering, but hesitated because of the grocery bag. Could it just be a lookalike?

Then a middle-aged man intercepted him.

“Excuse me, are you Mr. Zhan Yunkai?” he asked politely, though his eyes gleamed with certainty behind his glasses.

Zhan Yunkai tensed. “Who are you?”

“Pan Mi, talent scout for Dawnlight Culture.”

Though Zhan Yunkai’s hat and sunglasses obscured half his face, Pan Mi had gotten insider info on his routine and come specifically to ambush him.

“Running into you here is such a coincidence! Could we talk?” he feigned surprise.

Entertainment company.

“Take it up with my agency. I don’t handle this stuff.” Zhan Yunkai tried to sidestep him, eager to get home and cook.

Pan Mi blocked him again. “Wait! Mr. Zhan, don’t you realize your agency is screwing you over?”

“What?”

Screwing me over? Impossible. Ten Xia Yuexians wouldn’t dare.

Pan Mi leaned in. “Haven’t you noticed? With your looks, any other company would’ve made you a star years ago. At the very least, you wouldn’t be where you are now. They’ve wasted over a decade of your life! Where are your endorsements? Your variety shows, red carpets, magazine covers? They’re suppressing you!

“Aren’t you angry? Now that you’ve finally got traction, don’t you want to go big? An actor’s prime is limited—they’ve stolen too much of yours already. Don’t you want to prove them wrong?

“Why not switch agencies? We’ll give you the best deal!”

Zhan Yunkai: “…”

Xia Yuexian had mentioned his sudden online fame, advising him to wear a disguise when out.

But he was already big enough for poaching attempts?!

Clearly, Zhan Yunkai still underestimated his virality.

He hadn’t been particularly noticeable at first—people rarely scrutinize passersby. But being stopped by a suited man drew attention.

Pan Mi started quietly, but when Zhan Yunkai tried to leave, he raised his voice in desperation.

Lowering presence isn’t invisibility. Once recognized, the effect was moot. Soon, a small crowd gathered, snapping photos.

Zhan Yan shoved through, pointing at Pan Mi and shouting: “That’s him! The stalker selling people’s privacy!”

Mostly true—he’s a scout, so he stalks openly!

Pan Mi was the type to exploit fame at any cost, treating artists as commodities. He had private groups with sasaeng fans, trading celebrities’ personal info—IDs, phone numbers, even home addresses.

That’s how he’d found Zhan Yunkai.

Zhan Yan’s outburst redirected the crowd’s focus, letting him drag his dad to safety.

Using his knowledge of the area, Zhan Yan found a secluded spot to catch his breath.

Zhan Yan: “Hah… hah… hah…”

Zhan Yunkai patted his back. “Slow down… slow down…”

Zhan Yan: “…”

I really need to work out.

His dad wasn’t even winded. If not for him, Zhan Yunkai could’ve lost the crowd in five minutes.

“Dad, why’d you go out like that?” Zhan Yan wheezed.

“I didn’t think I’d be recognized,” Zhan Yunkai admitted.

He wouldn’t have been, if not for that scout!

Once Zhan Yan recovered, he bought a wide-brimmed hat for his dad. They sneaked home, miraculously without breaking any eggs.

After dinner, with the summer breeze drifting through the open window, the family gathered around a bowl of chilled yogurt topped with nuts and fresh fruit—plus honey, specially set aside for Zhan Jinli—to discuss a pressing matter:

Zhan Yunkai is famous.

They’d known, but hadn’t taken it seriously. Now that he’d been mobbed, he couldn’t casually shop for groceries anymore.

Zhan Yunkai was upset. Ingredient selection affects flavor! He always handpicked the freshest, finest produce.

And now his family might be affected too!

Ji Yueming reassured him: “It’s fine. I’m surprised it took this long—how famous are you?”

She’d been busy with Bureau work and hadn’t checked trending topics.

A tablet replaced the yogurt bowl as they surveyed Zhan Yunkai’s online presence.

First, his Weibo.

Zhan Yunkai managed his own account. It started when a drama required cast promotion. Xia Yuexian set it up, offering to handle it for him if he preferred.

The Demon King declined. It’s under my name. Why should someone else speak for me?

Once on Weibo, his inner demon’s instinct kicked in. Not to flaunt himself—after millennia, that was old hat. He wanted to flaunt his wife.

But he’d heeded Xia Yuexian’s warnings about privacy. So he decided to treat Weibo as a food diary! Meals symbolized domestic bliss! Xia Yuexian assured him this was a safe way to brag.

Zhan Yunkai didn’t post every meal—just when he felt like it. His latest update was breakfast before leaving home last week.

The comments, now numbering in the thousands, had little to do with food.

“…What are they doing?” Zhan Yunkai stared bewildered at the abbreviations and slang.

Fandom wars? This ancient demon king doesn’t get it.

“What does ‘climbing the wall’ mean?” he asked.

“It means they used to like someone else but now like you,” Zhan Yan explained.

“And ‘leg hair’?” Ji Yueming leaned in.

“Exactly…”

“And there’s ‘spicy dish’ too.”

…

The two of them enthusiastically started learning fan circle slang. With yogurt bowls in hand, Zhan Yan and Zhan Suiru spent twenty minutes explaining, until Zhan Yunkai and Ji Yueming finally understood what the comments under the Weibo post were talking about.

There were praises, criticisms, recommendations, people watching the drama unfold, and a bunch of requests for photos.

Guided by fan recommendations, Zhan Yunkai discovered his own “super topic” for the first time!

He clicked into the super topic and found the post with the most likes and comments—a compilation of all his scenes from TV shows and movies, along with group photos he’d taken with the crew. The comments included a cloud storage link for sharing.

Ji Yueming’s eyes lit up. She opened her phone, found the shared Weibo post, saved the cloud link, and gave the poster a like!

The comment section was filled with gratitude for the poster, alongside complaints that there was too little content and demands for more.

The poster and veteran fans replied: This is all there is. Zhan Yunkai never posts selfies and doesn’t participate in anything outside of acting.

Zhan Yunkai could confirm: It was true.

Variety shows were such a hassle, with schedules he couldn’t control. As for things like photo shoots or ads, even if he could arrange the time, they were too brief, making it inconvenient to use them as excuses for handling Wen Yao Alliance business.

Initially, some claimed Zhan Yunkai was just riding the hype, but after a few days, that narrative lost traction. His Weibo hadn’t updated at all, and his agency wasn’t capitalizing on the buzz. Xia Yuexian, knowing Zhan Yunkai didn’t want attention, had been actively suppressing the hype.

Zhan Yunkai’s current popularity was purely driven by his looks.

“Do you want to keep acting?” Ji Yueming asked.

Zhan Yunkai hesitated. He was indifferent to acting itself, but he couldn’t think of another job that would give him such convenient excuses to deal with Wen Yao Alliance matters.

“I don’t think it’s a big deal. Hype comes and goes quickly—it’ll die down soon,” Ji Yueming said.

She could tell Old Zhan actually enjoyed the job. If that was the case, why not keep going? Even if he got really famous, it wouldn’t matter! Worst case, she’d use some channels from the Abnormal Affairs Managment Bureau to squash any trouble.

Zhan Yan agreed.

His dad had zero other exposure, no professional skills to flaunt, didn’t craft a persona, and didn’t interact with fans. The people flocking to him were either chasing the hype or drawn to his looks. Those there for the spectacle would leave once it faded. People would realize they could only get clips from his occasional acting gigs or food updates on Weibo—nothing more. Those who liked his face could keep admiring it, but the rest would eventually drift away.

Even if they misjudged, he had other solutions. First, he’d upgrade the gossip system quickly to see if it could shield his dad’s info, preventing incidents like today. If that didn’t work, he’d dig around the supernatural forum for other methods!

Zhan Jinli poured half a bowl of honey into his yogurt, stirring hesitantly. Hmm… Dad seemed to really want to keep this job. He couldn’t do much about the online stuff, but if anyone tried to harass his dad, maybe he could send some little ghosts to knock on their door at midnight? That should be acceptable in human society, right?

Zhan Suiru, wincing at Zhan Jinli’s bowl, added some mixed nuts to her own yogurt.

If Dad got famous, so be it. If anyone caused trouble, she’d shut them down. Her “connections” were more than enough.

Fair enough. Zhan Yunkai relaxed at the thought. Human affection was often intense but fleeting, which made lasting bonds so rare. He instinctively leaned toward Ji Yueming.

The online storms didn’t matter. If they truly affected his family, using some Wen Yao Alliance tactics wouldn’t be out of the question.

Everyone unanimously supported Zhan Yunkai continuing his acting career.

But for now, it was best to steer clear of the spotlight.

“Let’s go grocery shopping ourselves for a bit,” Zhan Suiru said, pulling Zhan Yan closer.

No point relying on Zhan Jinli—he could stick to picking up deliveries.

Zhan Yunkai nodded, getting serious: “Come on, I’ll teach you how to pick vegetables.”

After Zhan Yunkai’s vegetable-picking lesson, Zhan Yan kept scrolling through Weibo.

He wanted to check on the incident where Zhan Yunkai was mobbed today. He was particularly annoyed about that agent, Pan Mi! The guy had somehow tracked down his dad’s daily grocery route!

Disgusting! Creep!!

What Pan Mi did was illegal. If no one dealt with him, Zhan Yan would compile a report and get him locked up!

As Zhan Yan searched, the incident was just starting to gain traction online.

There were plenty of onlookers at the time, many recording with their phones. Now, videos were popping up online.

Zhan Yan had arrived late, but his shout—“That’s him! Taking sneaky photos, stalking, and selling people’s privacy!”—was captured clearly.

Since Pan Mi was an agent and not widely known, the videos didn’t get much attention at first. Instead, Zhan Yan caught some eyes because of his connection to Zhan Yunkai.

“Who’s that curly-haired guy in white? He’s kinda cute.”

“Is he in the industry? Or just a regular person?”

“No clue. Does he know Zhan Yunkai?”

“Looks like they know each other. Zhan Yunkai didn’t resist when he got pulled away.”

“LMAO, is that a bag full of vegetables? There’s celery sticking out!”

“So he really buys his own groceries? No wonder he’s a foodie blogger.”

These discussions weren’t too widespread. The videos were shaky, phone-recorded, and not very clear. Zhan Yan figured people would forget him in a couple of days.

“Was Curly Bro’s shout for real?”

“He was probably just trying to save Zhan Yunkai, right? He yelled and then dragged him off.”

“But if it’s fake, isn’t that kind of a bad move to slander someone? Anyone know who the accused guy is?”

Regular onlookers didn’t know Pan Mi, but the fans of the celebrities he managed did.

Once the videos reached them, Pan Mi’s identity was quickly exposed.

Say what you will, Pan Mi’s tactics worked to an extent. While none of the celebrities he managed were mega-stars, several had decent followings.

As a result, the incident’s buzz started to climb. By the time Pan Mi noticed, it was a bit too late to suppress it. The videos had spread among fan groups, and fans were digging into whether he’d actually done those things.

When Pan Mi realized things were spiraling, he immediately disbanded his private fan groups.

But on his way home, Zhan Yan had already used the gossip system’s info-linking and memory functions to screenshot evidence from those groups, along with even more damning dirt. He sent it all out.

Perverted creep! Get ready to be arrested!

After dealing with the stalker, Zhan Yan logged onto the supernatural forum.

Over the past few days, he’d taken on two more missions from Luowang, both anomaly-related. It seemed Luowang was interested in a long-term partnership. Zhan Yan was thrilled to have such a generous client. The only downside was that Luowang communicated mission details via private messages, not through the mission board, so his Approaching Science account hadn’t gained much reputation in this area.

As usual, Zhan Yan checked his private messages. Luowang hadn’t sent new tasks, but he spotted another notable name: “Fang Pai.”

Wasn’t that the guy who’d asked for his help on the first day he used the Approaching Science account? Zhan Yan had declined because he didn’t have network-based supernatural abilities. Was Fang Pai back with a new task for collaboration?

Zhan Yan opened the message.

Fang Pai: “I need to find someone’s info, but I only have their online username. Can you track them down?”

Huh? Tracking someone by username screamed network-based supernatural ability. Was this related to Fang Pai’s earlier task?

Zhan Yan asked directly.

Approaching Science: “Is this the same task you were looking for a network-based supernatural user for?”

Fang Pai was online and replied instantly: “Yes.”

“They’ve gone physically offline.”

“There was a strong barrier before. I had a few network-based supernatural users try, but none could break through.”

Approaching Science: “I can give it a shot.”

Zhan Yan was a bit excited. Fang Pai wasn’t an admin, so completing his task would leave a record on the forum!

Fang Pai: “How do we settle on a price?”

Zhan Yan wasn’t sure how to price it. He decided to browse the mission board for reference. While searching, he noticed something odd: Fang Pai hadn’t posted any related tasks on the mission board.

Luowang was an admin, so Zhan Yan trusted them. But Fang Pai had no official backing, and Zhan Yan didn’t want to deal through private channels.

He asked outright.

Fang Pai: “I didn’t want random people poking around this task, so I didn’t post it.”

“If you agree to take it, I’ll post a dedicated task on the mission board.”

That settled it. But Zhan Yan had another idea.

Approaching Science: “Since this is my first gig, I won’t charge.”

“If the info’s accurate, just give me a shoutout on the forum.”

Since pricing was tricky, he’d skip it altogether. Luowang, being an official entity, wouldn’t endorse him, but Fang Pai could! Leveraging Fang Pai’s reputation to promote himself and signal that he’s open for tasks was a win-win.

Fang Pai agreed and quickly sent the username: “CuteLittleSkirt.”

Zhan Yan stared at the name, falling silent for a moment.

The person Fang Pai was looking for had quite a unique naming sense.

But with such a strong network barrier, they were probably a formidable figure.

Zhan Yan fired up the gossip system to search.

[Online dating partner “CuteLittleSkirt” suddenly vanished, leaving “Fang Pai” extremely anxious.]

Zhan Yan: Uh…

Now he understood why Fang Pai hadn’t posted the task on the mission board.

But it was pretty normal, right? Even supernatural big shots had emotional needs like anyone else. Judging by how Fang Pai was frantically asking for help to find his missing partner, he seemed pretty devoted.

Zhan Yan scrolled through the details…

Fang Pai, did you know your online dating partner is actually “Hacker”?!!!

Hacker’s a guy, but he has some unique hobbies—likes to wear makeup and little skirts, posing as a girl online, posting try-on photos or singing in a feminine voice. Though his interests are unconventional, he’s never hurt anyone.

One day, Hacker’s account crossed paths with Fang Pai’s regular identity account. They hit it off, chatting more and more, growing closer until they couldn’t help but start an online romance.

Hacker genuinely fell for his online partner, which left him conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to confess he was a guy and see if they could take things seriously. On the other, he feared Fang Pai wouldn’t accept his gender and would break things off immediately. So, he waffled for months, unable to decide. Then recently, Hacker accidentally discovered that the person he liked was none other than Fang Pai, his long-time mission partner.

Not knowing how to handle it, Hacker went into hiding.

What a jaw-dropping bombshell!

No wonder Fang Pai couldn’t get any leads from other network-based supernatural users—Hacker himself was a top-tier network supernatural. And no wonder Hacker claimed to be busy and didn’t take the task. It all made perfect sense.

If this gossip hit the web, it’d be worth a viral post like: [Shock! My Online Lover Turned Out to Be My Long-Time Bro in Drag!]

Zhan Yan had practically seen this drama unfold from every angle through the gossip system.

But now that he’d dug it up, he was at a bit of a loss. How do you even break this kind of news to the person involved?

Maybe because Approaching Science hadn’t replied for a while, Fang Pai was getting anxious.

He’d mustered a lot of resolve to approach Approaching Science. The guy’s ability seemed very good at digging up dirt… If he took the job, Fang Pai’s online dating situation might get exposed. It wasn’t illegal, but, well, it was a bit embarrassing for his big-shot image…

But since he’d already asked, he wanted results.

Fang Pai: “Is it that complicated?”

“I can pay more.”

He’d seen how “Approaching Science” had unmasked “Da Tian Shi” in under ten minutes. The long silence now—did it mean the situation was really tricky? What had CuteLittleSkirt gotten tangled up in…

Approaching Science: “No.”

“When you were with them, didn’t you ever sense anything familiar?”

Zhan Yan tried to hint subtly, but it was too subtle, and Fang Pai didn’t catch on.

Fang Pai: “Yeah, I felt we had amazing chemistry, like old friends who’ve known each other for years.”

“Is she in trouble?”

“Just tell me what’s going on.”

Fang Pai: “I’ll pay more if needed.”

Zhan Yan rubbed his forehead. Ugh… Why couldn’t it just be a simple case of tracking down a criminal or anomaly?

Seeing Fang Pai’s emotional state… Zhan Yan worried that if he spilled the truth, both of them would be mortified enough to dig themselves into a fortress of embarrassment.

Better find Hacker first!