Uncertain, unsure.
As a top student, such words had never before appeared in Xie Qian’s vocabulary.
The last time he faced such a perplexing situation was when he couldn’t decipher his feelings for Wen Ying.
While the mother and son spoke in the corridor, Wen Ying peeked curiously from the other side. Despite their hushed tones, she caught nothing, her emotions plain on her face and in her body language.
Hamster cared about him so much.
Though she was the one startled today, she was comforting him instead.
He wouldn’t let Hamster face danger. If he lacked the strength to protect her now, he’d hasten to build it. Life was a race—against oneself, from weakness to strength, and against time.
Before Xie Jinghu noticed Wen Ying, he’d ensure he’d grown into a sturdy tree to shelter her!
“What are you thinking?”
Zou Weijun rarely saw such clear emotions on her son’s face, suspecting he wasn’t taking her warning to heart.
“Nothing. I’ve just confirmed some things. Don’t worry, I’ll handle this myself. How about this: you and Editor Ni take Wen Ying back to the hotel. I’ll head to the police station now.”
His voice was loud enough for Wen Ying to hear clearly. She rushed over to state her stance. “I’m going to the police station with you. I’m the victim. They’ll definitely want to question me.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Exhausted!”
Wen Ying said confidently, “Tired as I am, cooperating with the police is every citizen’s duty. I’m going!”
She didn’t doubt He Zhen, but with someone disrupting her first signing, she’d worry if the matter wasn’t clarified.
This time it was just foul water. What if next time it was something else?
It could be an extreme hater or someone hired. Wen Ying wanted to uncover the mastermind more than anyone.
When Xie Qian met her persistence, his principles softened. Zou Weijun declined the bookstore’s dinner invitation, and the group grabbed a quick bite before heading to the nearby police station.
Along the way, Peng Guoqing ranted, “Good thing I wasn’t there. If I was, I’d have beaten that guy senseless before hauling him to the station. A man doing something so low? What a scumbag! Bullying a girl—what kind of skill is that?”
Peng Guoqing never denied he and his buddies were spoiled rich kids, but even at their worst, they wouldn’t target girls. Beaten by Xie Tang and left scrambling? Just dust yourself off and move on. Hold a grudge? No way.
If they tried to get back at Xie Tang, they’d probably just get thrashed again… but they’d never stooped to dirty tricks!
Little Salamander texted her boyfriend Zheng Zhihe for advice.
After hearing the situation, Zheng told her the man in the cap would likely face detention and a lecture at most. Little Salamander was indignant. “If that water had hit Little Fish, the signing would’ve been ruined, and who knows what nonsense the reporters would write!”
She even conjured a headline: “Bestselling Author Reverse Fish Splashed with Manure at Signing.” Utterly disgusting.
Zheng Zhihe, with his expertise and experience, was over 95% accurate, but Little Salamander, uninterested in hard truths, stopped replying to his texts.
Zheng could predict, and so could Wen Ying, his fellow disciple.
Before reaching the station, Wen Ying warned Xie Qian to brace himself.
Xie Qian stayed silent.
“Let’s see the situation before deciding the next step.”
…
When Wen Ying and the others arrived, hours had passed since the man in the cap was taken to the station.
Most people would be intimidated by a police station, their legs trembling.
The man’s composure was remarkable. No matter how the police questioned him, he insisted he was Wen Ying’s fan.
Security footage from the bookstore, combined with He Zhen’s and other readers’ testimonies, confirmed he intended to splash Wen Ying with foul liquid—he didn’t deny that.
“He claimed he was a fan, upset with the new book’s plot, and acted out at the signing. Since he caused no actual harm to Ms. Wen, we can detain him for a few days at most, during which we’ll educate him. If you wish, we can supervise an apology to Ms. Wen.”
As a public figure, Wen Ying’s case was taken seriously. Hours were enough to complete the questioning.
Xie Qian frowned at the outcome. “He says he’s a fan, and that’s it?”
What else could they do?
He had bought Wen Ying’s book and queued up.
He knew her new work was *Xun Yong*.
He’d even read *Xun Yong*, discussing its serialized content fluently. If that didn’t make him a fan, what standard defined “fan”?
Wen Ying and Xie Qian exchanged a glance: either a true extreme fan or someone well-prepared to evade blame.
Zou Weijun suggested a deeper investigation. The police didn’t refuse outright, asking Wen Ying if she’d received any threatening letters.
“Letters, emails, even social media comments count.”
Wen Ying had received many reader letters.
Some were at her home, but most were stored at *Spark*’s editorial office.
Whenever she had time, Wen Ying read them personally. Letters from all over expressed love for her work, some offering constructive feedback, but none were threatening.
No threatening emails either—her email wasn’t public.
Wen Ying explained, and the police were stumped. Little Salamander vowed to screen *Spark* and Rongcheng Literature Press’s official emails.
The hardest to monitor were social media comments.
The internet lacked real-name verification, access was hard to track, and Wen Ying-related comments were countless.
If someone bore her malice, she’d faced plenty of criticism as a contest judge. Did those haters count as malicious?
Everyone knew most online critics were keyboard warriors. Someone like the cap-wearer, causing real-world trouble, was one in a million. The police deemed him an extreme fan, driven by love-turned-hate.
Fame was a double-edged sword. Wen Ying won many fans—over 2,000 at a signing, signing thousands of books. A few extreme readers blending in wasn’t surprising.
“Like a pop star’s concert—can’t stop a fanatic rushing the stage…”
The analogy was clear.
During detention, the police would try to correct his mindset.
Beyond that… there was little they could do.
He only intended to splash foul water and didn’t succeed. Had he brought a knife or acid, it’d be a different matter!
The police followed protocol, not lacking effort, but without more evidence, this was the extent of their action.
Another key point: the man had no prior record!
Zou Weijun began doubting herself.
—Was I seeing threats where there were none?
Wen Ying spoke before Xie Qian or his mother. “Alright, let it be. Thank you for your trouble. Handle it as you would, no special treatment. An apology’s unnecessary—this reader left me with a psychological scar. I don’t want to face him again.”
Peng Guoqing was outraged. “That’s not right—”
Xie Qian’s glance silenced him.
Without evidence, pushing further would make Wen Ying seem aggressive.
No prior record?
Xie Qian wouldn’t rest until he investigated personally.
After finishing at the station, Xie Qian and Wen Ying, in sync, mentioned the same name.
“Detective Luo!”
They both laughed. Peng Guoqing scratched his head, frustrated. “What riddle are you two playing? Who’s Detective Luo?”
Wen Ying cleared her throat. “You don’t know him. An old friend. Perfect for helping with this.”
“Old friend” made Xie Qian chuckle.
Two lifetimes of acquaintance—calling Detective Luo an “old friend” was fitting. Xie Qian recalled Wen Ying enlisting Luo to catch a cheater.
That summer, Wen Ying dragged him across Rongcheng Music Academy’s field. Two years had passed, and they’d been friends for two years—
As for whether Detective Luo would come to Shanghai, Xie Qian thought it likely.
When Zhao Dong left Rongcheng, Xie Qian had planted a suggestion in Luo’s mind. By now, Luo’s “relationship consulting firm” was probably close to collapsing, right?
