The morning air felt heavy as Xia Yue stepped into the bustling company office. Her eyes scanned the familiar space, searching for a specific face. But Jian Brother was nowhere to be seen. Instead, only Luo Luo sat at her desk, her posture unusually rigid.

"Where is Jian Brother?" Xia Yue asked, a slight edge of curiosity in her voice.

Luo Luo's response was hushed, almost a whisper, as if sharing a secret. "Jian Brother has been very busy lately, training the new employees..." Her words trailed off, leaving an unspoken understanding of the trials those new hires must be enduring. Xia Yue felt a flicker of unease, a familiar ache for the unseen victims.

"Yue Yue sister..." Luo Luo began, sensing Xia Yue's mood.

"I'm fine," Xia Yue reassured her, though her thoughts were miles away. "Just a little heartache for the new ones." Luo Luo simply looked at her, a shared knowledge passing between them about Jian Brother's infamous methods. The unspoken truth hung in the air, thick and foreboding.

"Let's go," Xia Yue declared, pushing aside the lingering thoughts. "Time to work."

Luo Luo readily agreed, "OK!"

They arrived at the studio a full ten minutes early, a testament to Xia Yue's professionalism. Yet, they were left waiting. More than half an hour later, the male anchor finally made his grand entrance, a small entourage surrounding him like a protective shield. He carried himself with an air of self-importance, his chin held high, eyes barely glancing at Xia Yue as he offered a perfunctory greeting.

He settled into his chair, immediately demanding the makeup artist's attention. His index finger, curled in a delicate, almost ladylike gesture, pointed fussily at various products, an endless stream of complaints escaping his lips. Xia Yue watched him, a slow, cold realization dawning on her. This wasn't just an inconvenience; it was a profound irritation that sharpened her senses, awakening a dormant resolve.

The live stream began, the digital clock finally ticking over. Inside the virtual room, impatient fans had already been waiting for what felt like an eternity. The moment the 'on air' light illuminated, the male anchor underwent a startling transformation. His earlier arrogance vanished, replaced by a persona of practiced humility. He knitted his brows in a show of concern, lightly biting his lower lip as if burdened by a great sorrow.

"Babies," he began, his voice laced with manufactured sincerity, "I am so, so sorry. Something truly unexpected came up today, which sadly delayed our stream. As a small token of my apology, I'll set up some lucky bags for everyone. How does that sound?"

The comments erupted, a torrent of adoration. "Husband, please don't frown, it worries me!" one fan wrote. "Not late, not late, just on time!" declared another. Xia Yue watched, a silent observer to the grand illusion, a sardonic smile playing on her lips.

After the anchor's elaborate apology, it was Xia Yue's turn. "Hello everyone, I'm Xia Yue," she greeted, her voice calm and professional. The camera's heavy beauty filter rendered her chin so impossibly sharp it looked capable of lethal damage. The bullet comments, as expected, were a storm of negativity. "Solid evidence, Xia Yue is a plastic surgery freak!" one comment shrieked. "The team keeps bragging about her peerless beauty, I'm laughing to death!" another scoffed. "I heard a certain scam artist came to stream? No one wants to scam her anymore?" The vitriol continued, escalating into accusations of future schemes. A flood of black fans poured into the stream, paradoxically boosting its popularity.

Xia Yue maintained her serene, professional smile. The insults, the accusations – they seemed to float past her, entirely detached from her reality. Let them rage, she thought. The more popular the stream, the more money she'd receive from her company split. It was a cold comfort, a quiet victory in the face of public scorn.

The mission for this particular stream was touted as "helping farmers." The shopping cart displayed a vibrant array of agricultural products, allegedly sourced to alleviate the problem of overstocked fruits in remote mountainous regions. If she hadn't read the grim details in the novel, Xia Yue might have believed it. She knew the truth: the male anchor's team acquired these fruits from struggling farmers at rock-bottom prices, then resold them at inflated rates. The farmers saw little to no profit; all the substantial earnings flowed directly into the anchor's coffers.

Xia Yue gazed at the meticulously arranged fruits on the table, each one selected for its flawless appearance. She reached out, picking up a plump Qiu. With her bare hands, she effortlessly broke it open, revealing its juicy interior. She took a delicate bite – crisp, wonderfully sweet, the exact texture she adored. As the male anchor droned on, delivering his practiced sales pitch, Xia Yue sat quietly beside him, steadily eating. Each nibble was savored, each expression a testament to pure, unadulterated enjoyment. It was a silent performance, subtly enticing. "Gotta say, Xia Yue is eating with gusto," a comment read. "Bought it, if it doesn't taste good I'll scold you on Weibo," another follower declared.

Xia Yue looked up, a hint of mock surprise in her eyes. "If it doesn't taste good," she announced, "you can all go scold the anchor." The male anchor visibly flinched. "Are we buying the same thing you're eating? If so, I'll place an order now," a new comment appeared, sparking an idea in Xia Yue's mind.

With an innocent flicker in her eyes, she leaned closer to the microphone. "How about this," she proposed, her voice laced with genuine curiosity, "I take everyone to see the fruit warehouse inventory? You all know the anchor is a very big, successful anchor. I'm sure he wouldn't do something shoddy like passing off inferior goods as quality ones." The suggestion landed like a stone in a quiet pond. Many in the streaming room, genuinely wanting to support farmers, reacted positively. The chance to see the inventory for themselves was compelling. Even the black fans fell silent, momentarily disarmed.

The male anchor's face, however, paled. "Wait a minute—" he stammered, his carefully constructed composure beginning to crack. "How did things seem to be going off track so quickly!"

Xia Yue turned to him, her gaze wide and guileless. "What? You don't want everyone to see?" she asked, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. He forced a surprised expression. "How could you even think that, Miss Xia? It's just... the warehouse is very busy right now. Us going would surely disrupt everyone working there. And to keep the fruits fresh, the temperature is quite low inside. It wouldn't be good if you caught a cold."

"Wahhh, brother is so considerate!" a fan gushed. But another comment cut through the praise: "Wait, am I the only one who feels something is off?"

"I see," Xia Yue nodded slowly, as if enlightened. "So that's how it is. I thought perhaps there was something shameful in the warehouse that you didn't dare let me see." The male anchor's heart gave a sudden thump. He glanced at Xia Yue again, searching for hidden meaning, but her expression remained perfectly innocent, as if she had simply spoken her mind. He quickly rattled off a few more explanations, then skillfully, almost imperceptibly, shifted the topic. Some suspicions lingered among the audience, but the sheer volume of the male anchor's dedicated fans soon overwhelmed any dissenting comments. "If you don't buy, then scram!" one fan aggressively typed. "This was meant to help farmers in the first place, did you think you'd earn money from it?" Another added, "Right, the brother's kind intentions, yet you still suspect this and that, really speechless."

Of course, Xia Yue knew it would be impossible to actually visit the warehouse. Her true intention was simply to sow a seed of doubt, a quiet reminder to the audience. She began to ponder her next move, how she might truly expose the hidden truth. She didn't expect an opportunity to present itself so soon, or so... fragrantly.

Next on the product lineup was durian. The male anchor confidently picked up a pre-cracked durian, deftly splitting it further to reveal large, succulent pods of fruit inside. He offered one section to Xia Yue. "Does Miss Xia enjoy eating durian?" he asked, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

Xia Yue, however, did not take it. Her expression shifted, a subtle play of internal conflict. Seeing her hesitation, the male anchor's smirk widened. "Miss Xia, don't be shy," he coaxed. "Durian might smell a bit strong, but it tastes truly delicious."

Xia Yue remained hesitant. "It's not that I don't like durian," she began, her voice trailing off, creating a deliberate pause that drew everyone's attention. Then, her eyes met his, earnest and clear. "I just don't want to eat *that* piece in your hand." The smile on the male anchor's face instantly evaporated. "Let me clarify," Xia Yue continued, her voice soft but firm, "I have nothing against *you*, just against *that particular durian*. For durians with such a large, exposed opening, who knows if roaches or rats might have crawled inside? I really, truly don't dare to eat it..."

The streaming room exploded. "!!!" "Holy crap! Is that really a thing?" The male anchor quickly scrambled to explain, his voice tinged with desperation. "Babies, don't worry, the warehouse is very clean! We have strict hygiene management, absolutely no roaches or rats!"

Xia Yue nodded slowly, as if completely convinced. Then, to his horror, she gently extended the durian back towards his mouth, her eyes wide with innocent expectation. "I see," she said. "Then *you* eat it." The male anchor was speechless, his jaw clenching. He thought, *You're poisonous!* In the end, he did not eat the durian. Instead, he forced an assistant, a recent college graduate who could barely maintain a trembling smile, to consume it on camera. The forced display successfully planted a deep, nagging doubt in the minds of many viewers: was the warehouse *really* as clean as claimed?

In short, Xia Yue's seemingly innocent maneuvers had successfully sabotaged the durian sales. The stream concluded, and the male anchor's professional facade crumbled instantly. His face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Miss Xia," he bit out, his voice low and dangerous, "have I offended you somehow?"

Xia Yue looked up, her expression a picture of pure innocence. "No," she replied, a subtle tilt to her head. "Why would you say that?"

"You did that on purpose just now!" he accused, his voice rising.

Xia Yue deliberately covered her mouth with an exaggerated gasp. "What did I say? Oh, I'm so terribly sorry! It was my first time live streaming to sell things, I'm not very clear on the process." Seeing her put on this elaborate act, the male anchor's fury intensified. He pointed a trembling finger at her. "Just you wait!"

"Oh my," Xia Yue cooed, "I'm so scared!" She felt no remorse, no fear of offending him. Her happy, quiet retirement was just around the corner. Besides, this was all she could realistically do. She lacked his massive following, his influential platform. She knew her power was limited. *Trashy, so trashy...* she thought, a faint, satisfied smile touching her lips.

The male anchor, his lips trembling with uncontrolled rage, could only stare. *Just what kind of psychiatric hospital did you escape from?!* he silently screamed, utterly defeated by her calm, mysterious defiance.