____
Plastic friendship is plastic friendship, and it would collapse right away.
____
Jing Qingchen was originally from a place where scammers and metaphysics enthusiasts got together, so not long after the post was shared, they received various kinds of private message replies.
Xuan Ji, with lightning speed, quickly skipped all replies which asked for validations, produced rotten ideas, talked nonsense to promote one"s self, and also the ones which didn"t know what they were looking at. Sheng Lingyuan had a hard time reading the words on the screen.
He didn"t know some words, and though he could more or less guess some words, he didn"t know if he guessed it wrong or not. He always felt that when these words were combined together, they did not really look like human language.
The screen was also blinding.
Everything here was too bright. The windows in the room were completely transparent, and there was nothing covering them from the outside. After sunset, every household would lit up a lamp and burn the midnight oil, and these people did not sleep either. The house was bright as the day, and sometimes, they would get distracted and forget that it was evening.
Also, those big and small "square boxes" were even more excessive. Some of these things are called "mobile phones", some are called "computers", and he also heard some people call them "notebooks" or something. In short, they were called with many names. Sheng Lingyuan couldn"t figure out if these things have the same meaning or not because they looked pretty much the same. People stared at them all day long, looked at them on and on, looked at them while having a meal, looked at them while walking, looked at them until they lay down on their bed half-consciously at night and let that small square box — which should be called "mobile phone" — slip down from their hands and hit their face, as if one wouldn"t be able to sleep without suffering from a slap on the face every day.
At the beginning, the millennium-old ghost felt it was new. But when the feeling ran out, he began to feel a bit "noisy".
"My cell phone falls on my face once in a while, it"s not a bedtime ritual," Xuan Ji explained dryly, dimming the screen, but the browsing speed was still fast.
Sheng Lingyuan couldn"t keep up with his speed and couldn"t help but ask: "Can you read off the inscription on a stone tablet while riding a horse?*"
*also an idiom that means "possess an extraordinary ability", but Sheng Lingyuan meant the literal meaning here as he"s astonished by Xuan Ji"s browsing speed.
Xuan Ji puffed on his e-cigarette and carelessly said: "I can"t, I"m an academic flunkie."
"What is a "flunkie"?"
"It means that reading skill is not very good," Xuan Ji said. Recalling that those devils probably didn"t even know about paper, and recording nonsense was already a huge project for them, it must be a bit difficult to let this old man jump directly into a paperless environment. So, he slowed down the scrolling speed, then explained, "Nowadays, we modern people write out words as much as we say them, and these slang talks don"t have much information. You"ll know the rough meaning only by glancing at it, it"s good to be accustomed to seeing more of it."
As a young internet addict, Xuan Ji often put all kinds of internet language on his lips, so when he read an online message, he would feel no difference from daily spoken language, but in the eyes of real ancients, the difference was actually quite big — especially if within them, the words were mixed with a lot of abbreviations, numbers, letters and "scribblings" that were unheard of by the ancients.
Sheng Lingyuan: "What does that half-character mean?"
Xuan Ji glanced over and saw a gra.s.s character head*: "..."
*艹, censored version of the swear word 草, so it"s like saying "f**k" instead of "f.u.c.k"
Your eyes are really sharp, always capturing the key points.
"Oh..." Xuan Ji thought over a few words for a moment, didn"t know how to explain it to the "unearthed cultural relic", but said vaguely without any better option, "Just... cursing."
They were in a strange state at the moment, and Xuan Ji didn"t need to "convey in words"" in detail. Directly, he could "collect the thoughts" to the ancient who was thirsty for knowledge.
Sheng Lingyuan: "...Oh."
He understood a bit. When people of the past generation had eaten their fill, there were three or five people who would gather together to do some after-meal gossips. But, people here didn"t have to gather together at all, one person could just hold a small box and shout in the air, it was very convenient.
No wonder holding this thing in your hands gets you no good results at all.
At this time, the computer prompted that there was a new reply. Ping Qianru let out a sound of surprise and said: "Director, look at this person."
They saw someone sent a question: "Is it a symptom that happened after the 10th of last month?"
"This is a newly registered account," Ping Qianru said, "On the 10th of last month... Isn"t that the time we predicted that the boy was infected with a b.u.t.terfly?"
Xuan Ji: "Ask him how he knows."
The other side sent a second private message after a while, but instead of answering, he threw another question: "Where do your possessed relatives live?"
Xuan Ji nodded, Ping Qianru replied: "Northern Xiaoba."
If they wanted to catch an insider, they could not pretend that they"d been in contact with the mustache guy, Jing Qingchen, because if Jing Qingchen had more accomplices than this person, saying a few words could expose them at once.
Therefore, their fabricated ident.i.ty was a person who "came in contact with the infected boy and was infected". It was said that there was a great master who could cure evil possession, so they tried to contact that person. In order to seem real, Xuan Ji also let Ping Qiangru to send the same help posts on many metaphysics lovers" groups at the same time.
Judging from the current situation of the Deviant Control Office, the Mirage b.u.t.terfly resembled an epidemic disease. Although it was supposed to be contagious, it wasn"t necessarily contagious after one contact with an infected. The theory was unclear, but only in the current situation, males that were under 30 years old and physically strong seem to be more susceptible to infection. The infection rate of ordinary people seemed to be much lower than that of the Special Abilities. That child"s mother, who lived with him everyday, was fine. Those several Special Abilities of the local Deviant Control Office just carried out an arrest mission, and almost everyone got infected.