The digital world, a chaotic whisper that could become a deafening roar, was about to claim Xia Yue. She clutched her phone, the vibration a nervous tremor against her palm. It was Luo Luo, her assistant, her voice a frantic buzz. "Yue Yue sister, you've made it to the hot search!" A cold dread tightened around Xia Yue’s chest. The last time this happened, the internet had tried to tear her apart. "What now?" she murmured, her gaze darting around, half-expecting shadows to lengthen and twist into accusing forms. "I haven't stirred up any controversies recently, have I?" The silence on the other end was unnerving, heavy with unspoken things. Then Luo Luo's voice, barely a whisper, "This time... it's different. Go check Weibo. Quickly."

A shiver traced its way down Xia Yue's spine. "Different" could mean anything. As she logged into Weibo, the screen flickered, the notifications a terrifying cascade of "99+." Her heart hammered. She scrolled, fingers trembling, past the countless messages, not daring to click, fearing the venom that surely lay beneath. The hot search rankings glowed an ominous blue. And there she was. Her name, a beacon in the digital storm. Some unseen, unheard entity, an 'enthusiastic netizen,' had captured her recent livestream performance and unleashed it upon the world.

She expected the usual barrage of curses, the digital stones flung with malicious intent. But then, a flicker of something unexpected. Defenders. People standing against the tide, their words a shield, though they were quickly overwhelmed, brutally attacked by unseen forces. Who were these spectral allies? Xia Yue was certain they were just passersby, fleeting apparitions in her lonely online existence. She had no true fans, she knew. Her super topic managers were merely her own forgotten alt accounts, her fan group a handful of ghosts, not even enough to fill two mahjong tables. Yet, they fought for her. Why?

Then, a chilling image materialized: a cockroach, slick with oil, forcing its repulsive body through the cracks of a durian. It was grotesque, horrifying. "I'll prove Xia Yue is telling the truth, let me post a picture," the caption read. Another message followed, disembodied, anonymous, yet carrying a weight of truth that made Xia Yue's blood run cold: "I'm a warehouse worker, the warehouse is very dirty with lots of rats and cockroaches. Everyone should avoid buying fruits and fresh food with Curry's name." Curry. The male anchor. His name, now stained with the grim reality of unseen filth. The internet, a chaotic beast, erupted. Most of his followers, a loyal, unthinking horde, defended him, clutching onto the flimsy excuse that he hadn't actually eaten the durian in the end. Xia Yue merely smiled, a predatory curve of her lips. This kind of scumbag, a creature of the shadows, was destined to have his wrongdoings exposed. The gears of fate, it seemed, were turning.

A strange, unsettling joy bloomed in her chest. This meant the 'plot of the book' – the preordained, tragic ending she was desperate to escape – could be changed. The chains of destiny might yet be broken. Hehe~ A sinister lightness filled her, driving away the usual gnawing anxiety. That night, she ate three bowls of rice, a defiant act against the looming specter of her weight loss endeavor, now forgotten in the face of a greater battle. But then, the mundane returned, a quiet disquiet. "Hasn't my husband come home yet?" she asked, the words hollow in the spacious house.

Zhi Sister, her faithful housekeeper, shook her head, her eyes holding a flicker of something Xia Yue couldn't quite decipher, a hint of distress, or was it pity? "The master hasn't returned. He must be staying near the company tonight." Xia Yue nodded, a familiar ache starting in her chest. Of course, what newlywed couple lived separately already? A cold wind seemed to whisper through the empty rooms. Zhi Sister, her voice softer, almost pleading, suggested, "Mistress, why don't you bring food to the master? I've already prepared it." Xia Yue hesitated. She didn't want to go, didn't want to confront the growing distance between them, but before she could refuse, Zhi Sister had already packed a delicate lunchbox, holding it out like an offering, a silent plea.

Xia Yue took it, the weight of it suddenly immense. "He should have food there, right?" A big boss, a man of power, surely wouldn't go hungry. But Zhi Sister shook her head, a stern disapproval in her gaze. "That's not how to think about it, Mistress. Restaurant food outside is unsanitary, how could it compare to clean, tasty homemade meals? What's more, the master has a sensitive stomach and often misses meals. Who knows if he's eaten dinner yet tonight!" The words, though seemingly innocent, carried a subtle undercurrent of warning, a sense of his fragile health, his vulnerability, making Xia Yue’s heart clench. She couldn't let the 'money master' ruin his stomach. Who else would earn their fortune? A cynical thought, quickly masked by a hopeful smile. Perhaps, if she performed this small duty well, the 'money master' would be pleased, and bestow upon her more resources for her fight against fate. Hehe~

The community gates loomed like an impenetrable fortress. Strict security. Xia Yue, a ghost in the system, was stopped. Unable to enter. A cruel irony. Just then, a sports car, a flash of metallic aggression, screeched to a halt beside her. The window rolled down slowly, revealing a face she knew, a face that stirred unpleasant memories. "Oh, who's this squatting outside the community gate, unable to get in?" The voice, laced with mocking amusement, sent a jolt of recognition through her. Xia Yue stood, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, who's this that owes money and still dares to show his face?" Fang Ma Te. Her past, suddenly materialized before her, a persistent, unwelcome shadow.

"It's just a few ten thousand Luo, I'll pay you back right now." He tapped his phone, then stared at her, disbelief widening his eyes. "You actually blocked me!" "Sorry, I forgot," Xia Yue said, her tone devoid of apology. She unblocked him, watched the money transfer, and then, with a satisfied click, blocked him again. "Alright, money received. See you!" She turned to leave, but his voice, a desperate grasp at relevance, stopped her. "Wait!" Fang Ma Te scrambled out of his car, his expression twisting. "Xia Yue, don't tell me you knew I lived here and came to wait for me on purpose? I'm telling you, I will never get back together with you!"

Xia Yue took a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the surge of anger. "Who gave you the confidence?" she asked, her voice dangerously calm. "Do you know why good horses don't eat back their food?" He looked perplexed. "Why?" Her answer was delivered with a chilling sweetness. "Because it's covered in shit." Fang Ma Te's face contorted, a mask of fury. A burst of laughter, sharp and clear, cut through the tension from nearby. He glanced at the license plate of the car from which the laughter emanated, a grim realization dawning that this was someone he couldn't afford to provoke. He glared at Xia Yue, a venomous threat hanging unspoken in the air, then finally hissed, "I'm waiting for the day you beg me to take you back." Xia Yue merely smiled, a cold, distant smile. "Oh, keep waiting slowly. See you next life."

After Fang Ma Te’s agitated departure, Xia Yue finally turned to the source of the laughter. The woman standing there seemed familiar, yet shrouded in a subtle mystery. She removed her sunglasses, revealing a jaded face that held a flicker of recognition. "What, don't recognize me after a few days?" Xia Yue racked her brain, the name finally surfacing from the depths of her memory: Fen Yue. Her rival. Another unknown, a ghost in the vast machine of the entertainment industry. The script in her mind, a secret burden, whispered details: Fen Yue, from a wealthy family, merely playing at acting, always with a safety net to fall back into. "What are you doing here?" Xia Yue asked, a sudden unease settling over her.

Fen Yue's lips curved in a faint, enigmatic smile. "I live here." Her gaze drifted, lingering on the lunchbox in Xia Yue's hands. "You came to deliver food?" Xia Yue gave an awkward laugh, the truth a tangled mess in her throat. "That's right, I'm bringing food for my boss." Seeing Fen Yue's brow raise in silent question, Xia Yue quickly fabricated, "Another boss. I took on a side job." Fen Yue nodded, a strange understanding in her eyes. She knew of Xia Yue's family circumstances, the whispered rumors at the company, her desperate fight for survival. "Get in," Fen Yue offered, her voice surprisingly soft. "I'll bring you inside."

Xia Yue followed, the lunchbox a heavy burden, the scene a strange tableau of a dutiful, subservient wife. It was then, as she walked in Fen Yue’s wake, that the chilling realization struck her. She had no idea where the 'money master' lived. No unit number, no apartment. Not even his phone number. The driver, her only link, was still outside the gates, oblivious. That idiot ex, Fang Ma Te, had completely derailed her, making her forget to ask the crucial details. She shook her head, a faint sloshing sound, as if water had replaced her thoughts. "Um..." she began, her voice small, almost swallowed by the silence.

"What?" Fen Yue turned, her expression unreadable. Xia Yue mumbled, "I forgot which unit the boss lives in." Fen Yue blinked, then rubbed her forehead, a hint of exasperation. "Call and ask." "Don't have his number," Xia Yue confessed, the admission a quiet humiliation. Fen Yue simply stared. The moment stretched, heavy with unspoken questions. "Um, have you eaten?" Xia Yue asked, desperation making her bold. "Why don't I give you the food? Don't worry, the dishes are all very clean and hygienic!" Fen Yue considered her, a strange glint in her eyes. "Sounds good. Let's go to my place then."

Their usual animosity, a silent, understood tension, seemed to vanish, replaced by an uneasy truce. It wasn't until they reached Fen Yue's door that a flicker of self-awareness crossed Fen Yue's face. She must have lost her mind, bringing this 'toxin of the entertainment industry' back to her sanctuary. Yet, she couldn't kick Xia Yue out now. And then, another unsettling thought: Xia Yue seemed... different. "Wow! Your place is so nice!" Xia Yue exclaimed, her genuine surprise echoing in the quiet apartment. She hadn't expected the seemingly cold, aloof Fen Yue to have so many plush toys. The contrast was startling, almost endearing. "It's just alright..." Fen Yue's lips curved, a genuine, rare smile touching her face. No one had ever praised her home. Her family always called her childish.

A strange connection formed between them, two disparate souls in a shared space. Xia Yue opened the lunchbox, the food still warm, radiating a comforting steam. "Try it quickly, let me tell you, Zhi Sister's cooking is amazing!" Fen Yue, a connoisseur of delicacies, took a bite and nodded, a rare admission. "It's pretty good." As a celebrity, she meticulously watched her figure, especially at night when she usually ate only salads. Tonight, she had broken her rigid rules. Yet, she stared, wide-eyed, as Xia Yue devoured everything in sight. The last spoonful of soup disappeared, and Xia Yue sprawled on the sofa, a picture of blissful contentment. "Comfortable!" she sighed.

Fen Yue, her eyes still on Xia Yue's slightly bulging stomach, asked cautiously, her voice low, "Xia Yue, did something happen to you?" "Huh? Nothing happened." Xia Yue feigned innocence, feigning ignorance of Fen Yue's obvious implication. The empty lunchbox, the ravenous appetite – it all spoke of self-destructive behavior, a desperate attempt to fill an unseen void. Xia Yue merely grinned, a hollow, almost disturbing smile. "Never waste good food or money." Meanwhile, in a different, silent part of the city, Sha Hao, the husband, the 'money master,' stared at the butler's message, then at the empty space where his dinner should have been. The hours ticked by, and still, no one came. He waited, his stomach an empty cavern, a silent testament to a mystery unfolding, unseen and unheard, around him.