Next came a barrage of questions: “Miss Zhou Shuren, what’s your secret to such flawless skin?” “What do you like to eat?” “Do you have a boyfriend?” Even—“Do you poop?” Luo Xiaolu really didn’t want to answer. Forced to keep a polite smile and uphold her image, she barely suppressed the urge to curse. Ugh. Fame was such a pain!

Seriously, she was just a writer—why all this idol-fandom chaos? Turning every circle toxic!

Wait… *she* was the one being fangirled over? Oh. Never mind then.

Watching these brats chatter nonstop, Luo Xiaolu knew staying longer meant questions about cup size, waistline, and worse. “Sorry,” she said with a strained smile, “I have to go home.” She tried pushing through the crowd.

But the crowd was thick. Reporters at the edges clamored for autographs; microphones waved relentlessly in her face.

Tricky part? Everyone “politely” kept distance—step forward, they shifted behind; step back, they closed in front. She was trapped.

Barely holding back the urge to send them flying, she slowly pushed aside hands and bodies.

Yep. Reporters were a special breed of annoying in any world. Sure, everyone’s hustling for a living—but this shamelessness? Made you wanna punch something.

Now she got why celebrities hired bodyguards. Even if she could take ten alone, she couldn’t throw fists. Just a few intimidating figures nearby would’ve helped!

Just then—cringe alert.

A young reporter, overexcited, shoved inward with his mic—lost balance—and lunged straight at Luo Xiaolu!

Survival instinct kicked in. He planted hands and feet mid-fall, avoiding full impact… but his palm brushed her arm.

Uh…

Silence froze the scene. Reporters stared, wide-eyed.

Nothing worse than sudden quiet.

Luo Xiaolu blinked at him, utterly bewildered.

Oh my god—was someone *already* trying to assassinate her?!

His hands pressed lightly on her arms, face flushed crimson.

Through the snow-white gauze dress, her silhouette emerged—soft curves fair and delicate beneath the fabric, almost… bunny-like. Adorably tempting.

He swallowed hard, offered an embarrassed grin. They locked eyes.

Tension thickened the air.

Hmm…

Thankfully, just her arm. No accidental trespass into *that* zone. No landmines triggered.

He’d probably survive a month in bed. *Probably.*

“BEAT HIM!!!”

A hotheaded voice erupted. The crowd surged. Mics and cameras tossed aside. Sleeves rolled up. They hauled the guy off her.

“How dare you assault Teacher Zhou Shuren?!”

“Disgrace to all reporters!”

“Waaah… Sister Shuren never even smiled at *me*—and you *touched* her?!”

“Miss Zhou Shuren is pure and sacred—defiled by your hands?!”

*Who’s defiled?! Stop lying or get struck by lightning!!* Luo Xiaolu screamed inwardly.

Then—the crowd launched into the classic “group activity.”

Dozens pinned him down, grinding him into the pavement. Shouts flew: “Don’t kill him—just wreck his junk!” “A vegetable’s still a person!” “Brothers, don’t shove—let me stomp too!”

Two words described it: tragicomic.

“Hey! I’m fine! Don’t hurt him!”

“I just tripped—no injury! Stop!!”

“You’ll kill him!!”

Terrified, Luo Xiaolu pleaded—but no one listened.

*Sigh.* Young man… you’re on your own.

With all attention diverted, the path cleared. She shook her head, sighed, and slipped away.

What had the world come to?

Back when she ran the streets, offending her never meant *this* level of punishment.

If shaking every hand here would spare him… she’d do it.

Oh! How magnanimous she was! How could the world craft such a beautiful, kind-hearted girl?!

She hailed a taxi, heart fluttering.

......

Next day, news of *Your Lie in July*’s author at the signing ceremony topped Weibo trends and front pages nationwide.

“SHOCKING! Men Silent, Women Weeping—Zhou Shuren’s True Identity REVEALED…”

“Why Did the Celestial Maiden Descend? Morality’s Collapse or Soul’s Corruption?”

“Zhou Shuren’s Debut—NO CLOTHES?!”

“OUTRAGE! Teacher Zhou Shuren ‘Defiled’ Post-Ceremony…”

What trash headlines?! A gauze dress isn’t clothing?! And *defiled*?! Lies = lightning strike!!

Luo Xiaolu groaned. These clickbait writers belonged in UC Browser’s shock department—what a waste!

Photos went viral. Comments exploded:

“HOLY—Sister Shuren’s real face?! A goddess descended!”

“Every gesture so gentle! No wonder she’s Sister Shuren!”

“Full face hidden? Doesn’t matter—she’s flawless! Hype up Fairy Zhou Shuren!!!”

“So pretty my little brother puked from envy!”

“……"

Wait. Was that last comment… off?

Scrolling through flattering pics that shook the web-novel world, Luo Xiaolu sighed in relief.

The veil was genius—hid her lower face perfectly, added mystery + ethereal buff.

Paired with that ancient-style gown? Total xianxia “aloof senior sister” energy. Pure goddess aura.

Minimal video footage. Voice softened deliberately. Only eyes visible? Zero risk of recognition. Duh.

“Sis…” Luo Xiaotang frowned, sliding her phone over. “This is you, right?”

A photo spotlighted Luo Xiaolu smiling gently on stage.

……No one fooled her blood-related little sister.