Chapter 35: Pointer (2)
35 – Pointer (2)
He stared at the motionless Zhi Zhen.
Asleep, so it’s powered off?
—That obviously wasn’t right.
Dead?
His heart skipped a beat as he quickly checked Zhi Zhen’s belly.
The snow-white belly rose and fell evenly—not dead, just asleep.
But why was there no program window? Could it be that anything related to Dong Jun was this strange?
He pinched Zhi Zhen’s ear: “Zhi Zhen?”
The pink-tipped, snow-white furred ear twitched.
Lin Xun then held its paw pad: “Are you okay?”
Zhi Zhen slowly opened its eyes.
Crystal blue, like the depths of an iceberg in the sea.
—Everything seemed normal; nothing was wrong physically.
Lin Xun breathed a sigh of relief, but he felt Zhi Zhen’s gaze was unhappy, a bit sorrowful, not quite like a cat—more like it had gained sentience.
And after being woken up, this Zhi Zhen didn’t close its eyes again, just kept looking at him with those beautiful eyes.
Lin Xun and it stared at each other for a full three minutes.
Lin Xun couldn’t help but laugh: “Why are you looking at me?”
Zhi Zhen let out a “meow.”
Lin Xun reached for its tail.
Suddenly, Zhi Zhen stretched out a paw toward him.
Lin Xun didn’t move, and the paw landed on the bridge of his nose. The fluffy white paw didn’t extend its claws, just rubbed him with its pad.
Lin Xun smiled and held its paw.
Zhi Zhen shifted its whole body closer, resting its head on his shoulder—a rather affectionate posture.
Since the cat seemed fine, Lin Xun stopped worrying about it and started worrying about himself moving in his sleep and crushing it.
He moved Zhi Zhen farther away.
Zhi Zhen crawled back.
He moved it away again.
It crawled back again.
Lin Xun gave in.
“If I crush you, just meow,” Lin Xun warned Zhi Zhen, regardless of whether it understood.
Zhi Zhen: “Meow.”
Lin Xun then stroked its fur, turned off the light, and went to sleep.
He felt he wasn’t very still while sleeping—often falling asleep in one position and waking up in another.
However, when he woke up today, he was still in the same position—lying on his side facing Zhi Zhen, who was curled up against his chest, purring softly.
—A little kitten, impressive it could sleep this long.
Lin Xun looked more closely and noticed that Zhi Zhen now had a blank program window.
Dong Jun never had a program window.
Dong Jun’s cat had a program window that came and went.
It seemed that anything involving Dong Jun became unusual. Lin Xun narrowed his eyes, opened his phone’s memo app, and typed a few words into a memo titled “Suspicious Points.”
—Still, these oddities didn’t change the fact that Dong Jun was his idol.
He got up to wash up, his movements waking Zhi Zhen. The cat followed him at a distance, eventually sitting elegantly on the sofa, licking its paws and washing its face.
Lin Xun recorded a video and sent it to Dong Jun.
A Happy Zhi Zhen: [Video]
A Happy Zhi Zhen: Have you landed?
After sending it, he realized his way of addressing Dong Jun wavered between “you” and “you (honorific),” often mixing them up.
—Never mind, his idol seemed easygoing and probably wouldn’t mind such things.
About five minutes later, Dong Jun replied.
Dong Jun: At the hotel now, work starts tomorrow.
A Happy Zhi Zhen: Please make sure to rest well ^^
Dong Jun: Okay.
A Happy Zhi Zhen: Zhi Zhen is adjusting fine. How much cat food should it eat per day?
Dong Jun: Whatever, just fill it up. It’ll eat on its own.
A Happy Zhi Zhen: What about snacks?
Dong Jun: I usually feed it at night.
A Happy Zhi Zhen: Okay.
…Then, the male god didn’t reply.
Just as Lin Xun thought today’s conversation was over and it was time to end it, the screen lit up.
Dong Jun: ^^
Lin Xun was a bit overwhelmed by the male god’s emoticon, his breath catching for a moment. His hand, about to close the chat interface, trembled slightly.
After putting away his phone, he ruffled Zhi Zhen’s fur a few times, and his heartbeat returned to normal.
The innocent Zhi Zhen looked at him: “Meow.”
Lin Xun: “I’m fine, I’m good.”
The programmer’s day began. It was worth mentioning that Jiang Lian had decided to stay here—this way, without the commute time to and from work, things became much more convenient.
After welcoming Jiang Lian and dealing with the security guard who kept lingering downstairs and occasionally looking up at the fourth floor, Lin Xun sat down at his computer and realized that aside from writing algorithms, he didn’t have anything particularly urgent to do.
In contrast, Zhao Jiagou was drowning in a sea of PowerPoint slides—this presentation would showcase the main achievements of “Goddess of the Luo River” and be displayed at the Technology Expo. Its quality would largely determine whether Goddess of the Luo River could stand out at the expo.
Jia Gou was irritable.
Lin Xun was empty.
The empty Lin Xun idly wrote some minor details of algorithms while petting the cat.
As if sensing his emptiness, his phone lit up with a message from Xiao Xiao.
Xiao Xiao sent him the registration website for that show. Lin Xun clicked on it and found it was a talent show-style event initiated by a well-known internet media platform, called “I Am a Big Star.”
He wasn’t entirely sure about its specific purpose, as he never paid attention to such things—but the show’s process was clear.
First, there was an open audition for the public. Participants could join as teams or individuals, showcasing singing and dancing talents. On-site judges and the audience would score them, deciding who got eliminated and who stayed.
Those who remained would advance to the next round of competition, and the event would gradually transition from auditions to a formal variety show broadcast live to the audience. After several rounds, the final ten contestants would officially debut as artists.
—The audition was in three days, and the location was familiar to Lin Xun: the gymnasium of his alma mater.
He replied to Xiao Xiao: I’ll go with you. Do we need to buy tickets?
Xiao Xiao: No need, thank you, Zhi Zhen gege.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye. In the early hours of that day, Lin Xun picked up Xiao Xiao.
Xiao Xiao was still wearing that black dress, seemingly wearing lipstick. As for whether she had on makeup, Lin Xun couldn’t tell, but he thought the girl looked quite pretty.
The girl carried a small black handbag and seemed nervous, constantly fiddling with the zipper.
Lin Xun: “Don’t be nervous.”
Xiao Xiao: “…Mm.”
The journey was quiet. After entering the gymnasium, Lin Xun escorted Xiao Xiao backstage. Outsiders weren’t allowed backstage, so he took a seat near the front of the audience.
The show officially began at 9 a.m. After the host introduced the rules, it was time for the contestants to take the stage.
Xiao Xiao was number fifty-six, still far off.
The lights in the venue dimmed, and a single beam lit up on the stage.
Two characters appeared on the large black screen: “Qi Yun.” Cheers erupted in the venue.
—She even had her own fans.
Amidst the cheers, a young man holding a guitar at an angle stepped onto the stage. Lin Xun found the figure somewhat familiar.
“Hello everyone, I’m Qi Yun, from Chengdu, Sichuan. I’ve always believed I’m someone different.”
Another wave of cheers erupted, mixed with shouts: “Qi Yun, you’re the best!!”
“Go for it, brother!!”
Lin Xun: “”
He recognized who this was.
—The scope of a sword cultivator’s work truly is broad.
He silently watched Qi Yun on stage, while Qi Yun’s gaze swept over the audience with a smile: “Today, I’ve prepared a rap for everyone, and its name is—”
The next second, his eyes met Lin Xun’s: “…Holy shit.”
Amplified by the microphone, those two words clearly reached every audience member’s ears.