Chapter 1 part 1
On the first day of March, as usual, Skye, the popular boy band, released their schedule for the month.
Weibo (a Chinese microblogging site) knows how to milk traffic for KPIs (Key Performance Indicators). The schedule was barely released when it shot to the top of trending searches.
Artists whose every little thing makes it to the entertainment charts usually annoy the public with excessive marketing, but Skye is an exception—they rarely get on anyone’s nerves.
The trending topics were just as hilarious as always:
Passersby were all “Damn, they’re so handsome!”, while fans were all “Damn, I’m so angry!”
Those praising the promotional photos in the schedule as breathtakingly beautiful were, unsurprisingly, passersby struck by their visuals. Those cursing and wishing they could destroy the company were, without a doubt, Skye’s fans.
Internet trolls were collecting screenshots and liking the fans’ comments.
[Please GNK Company Let Jiang Shuiran Be! V: I’m so done, can this trash company please let my Jiang be? Two years, and we’re almost at the fourth comeback, and he’s STILL got white hair!! I just want to ask GNK’s boss, Li Gou, if he’s balding himself and can’t stand handsome guys with full heads of hair!! [Smiling with a knife.jpg]]
Beneath the comments from mischievous passersby filled with laughter, the poster replied, bravely and despairingly:
[Please GNK Company Let Jiang Shuiran Be! V: #PleaseGNKCompanyHeedFanRequests, Refuse Unconscionable Bleaching! @GNK-official]
Even the solo fans of the other members had to admit: Jiang’s fans are really trying hard.
Rival fans, overshadowed by Skye’s popularity, could only watch the fun on the real-time square, and those who still had some love for their idols didn’t dare to look at Skye’s photos for too long—
…Mainly because they couldn’t resist the temptation.
There was no other way. Skye had a history of stealing fans from other artists, aggressively attracting fans from A-list celebrities to the 108th-tier ones, single-handedly stealing the fans of almost every artist in the Chinese entertainment industry.
Every time Skye trended, passersby who saw their photos had a high chance of becoming fans.
Even the background photos accompanying a simple schedule were enough to mesmerize viewers.
The five people in the photos were simply too handsome.
For Skye, the camera skills and styling didn’t matter.
The five members, standing or sitting, drew in the viewers, their gazes mesmerized, causing them to unwittingly smile at their phones.
When they finally snapped back to reality, their hands, which were about to idly scroll past, paused. As if waking from a dream, they clicked the follow button.
No one noticed that, as the follower count continued to rise, in the background of the studio’s posted schedule, a faint crimson flashed in the pale Han Yuzhe’s deep, dark eyes.
Skye’s popularity remained high, and the trending topic remained at the top for a while, soon breaking 100 million views.
At first, the square was filled with fans denouncing the company, sharing promotional materials, and beautiful photos, until the top trends changed, diverting their attention to the new photos posted by fansite owners, their eyes shining with excitement.
The fansite owner used the trending hashtag, and the fans quickly heated it up, solidifying the new trend.
In the photos, the five members boarded a ship one after another. Berlin, who was last, energetically waved to the fans.
[Little Berlin is Here V: Seeing the fresh Little Berlin is so happy 5555, today is also a day full of energy!!]
[Skye’s Number One Player V: Baby is greeting fans today TT, safe travels [heart]]
[2G Delay: I just checked the schedule, so today there is a commercial shoot. I wonder where they are going? And they have to take a boat?]
While the fans were excitedly discussing, the ship carrying Skye had already left the port and was speeding towards its destination.
Inside the ship:
“Why did the weather suddenly change… It was fine just now.”
“To ensure a smooth shoot, the weather forecast was repeatedly confirmed beforehand, but unexpectedly, the weather changed so suddenly, the timing was really bad.”
“We’re almost there. The director said not to turn back, wait for the weather to clear up and shoot again, or we’ll stay there overnight.”
“No way, the island is full of insects.”
The staff were worried, frequently looking up.
The last ray of sunlight was swallowed by the thick, dark clouds. A hazy mist faintly covered the turbulent sea, and the air was unusually damp and cold.
Today was the day the phenomenally popular group, Skye, went to Lixin Island to shoot a commercial.
Berlin came out of the restaurant and went to the deck, taking a bite of an apple he had grabbed on the way.
He silently glanced at the clearly abnormal sky, his gaze shifting to his teammates at the bow of the ship.
Hua Yan was always listless during the day, and as soon as he boarded the ship, he hid in his room and closed the curtains tightly. Wu Hengyao was feasting in the restaurant, Han Yuzhe didn’t move an inch after sitting down, and only Jiang Shuiran hadn’t left the deck since boarding the ship.
The ship swayed with the increasingly turbulent waves. Berlin munched on the apple, thoughtfully staring at Jiang Shuiran, following his gaze towards a distant direction—
The dense fog over the sea concealed something unusual.
Berlin had good eyesight. He squinted his eyes, trying to discern something through the gaps in the railing, looking down.
The seawater was churning, moving at an unusual speed. It wasn’t so much the strong wind as if something under the sea was rushing towards the ship.
It wasn’t clear whether it was an illusion, but Berlin seemed to see large, indistinct, boundless black shadows.
The swimming shadows were extremely fast, like flowing black sand in the endless ocean.
Jiang Shuiran, who had his back to him, turned his head, so Berlin naturally looked away, smiling brightly, shaking the apple in his hand: “Want some? I’ll share half with you.”
The light was dim, and Jiang Shuiran’s hair seemed to glow faintly.
Leaning against the railing, his smooth silver hair was blown by the sea breeze, revealing exquisitely androgynous eyes.
Behind him was the boundless ocean.
As the ship left the land, the humid sea breeze, mixed with a strong fishy smell, swept past, seemingly pleasing to him. In the twinkling of his eyes, there was an unspeakable, captivating beauty.
These beautiful eyes, which made people unconsciously hold their breath, were fixed on Berlin.
Berlin had just said it casually. After all, three of his four teammates were not interested in human food. Jiang Shuiran had just politely refused the staff’s offer of food, using the excuse of “needing to control his weight for the upcoming comeback.”
In stark contrast was Wu Hengyao, who had eaten twelve servings of rare steak. If the restaurant staff hadn’t looked at him with a mix of surprise and horror, Wu Hengyao would have finished all the meat.
Unexpectedly—Jiang Shuiran raised his lips slightly, readily extending his hand towards him, his gaze soft as water: “Okay.”
Berlin, who had only been being polite: “…”
What’s going on? Jiang Shuiran even seemed to be looking forward to it.
He hesitated and checked the apple in his hand: It looked like it had been gnawed on by a dog, with half of it covered in his teeth marks, and had turned a teeth-aching brown color due to oxidation.
Its appearance was shocking; not even a dog would eat it. Well, except for him.
Stunned for two seconds, Berlin inconspicuously looked at the unwavering好感度 above Jiang Shuiran’s head: [99].
Berlin: .
Jiang Shuiran seemed oblivious to Berlin’s hesitation. He gazed at him calmly, his voice soft and melodious, with an unspeakable charm, every word captivating: “What’s wrong?”
Legend has it that the siren’s voice enchants passing sailors, causing them to lose themselves and become easy prey.
Jiang Shuiran, Skye’s official main vocalist, was praised by fans as having a “heavenly voice,” driving audiences wild at every live performance, his beautiful tone giving people goosebumps.
This powerful weapon on stage, when brought into reality, was both ambiguous and dangerous.
For two years, Berlin, who had been close to Jiang Shuiran, still couldn’t fully adapt.
Every time he heard Jiang Shuiran speak, especially when he was close by, Berlin would unconsciously touch his ears.
No one seemed gentler than Jiang Shuiran, but Berlin knew very well that he wasn’t the harmless and innocent mermaid in fairy tales.
Not long after Berlin moved into the dorm, there was a water outage, and he accidentally saw Jiang Shuiran’s agitated state due to lack of water.
Sharp, densely packed teeth flashed with a cold light. After seeing it with his own eyes, no one would doubt its ferocious biting ability. Its sharp claws could easily break any stone, tearing its prey to shreds.
Berlin, who had seen his teammate’s secret for the first time, hid behind the door, his hands clenching the water cup, sweating profusely.
Jiang Shuiran was restless in his agitated state, his senses dulled. Berlin, unable to move for a long time, managed to move before Jiang Shuiran turned around, narrowly avoiding his gaze.
Two years later, looking back, Berlin’s fear had subsided. The memory was hazy, and his emotions felt like they were behind a thin film, diluted. He only remembered the gorgeous golden scale behind Jiang Shuiran’s ear, the fleeting light dreamy and ethereal, clean and flawless.
Berlin: “Wait a moment.”
Two minutes later, Berlin neatly grabbed a fruit knife from the restaurant, cut off the bitten part, and confidently handed the remaining apple to Jiang Shuiran: “Here.”
Jiang Shuiran looked down at the apple offered to him, the complete cross-section clean.
The staff member guarding the cameras in the corner of the cabin nervously looked up at the sky.
“Don’t you feel the wind is getting stronger suddenly?”
“The temperature has also dropped… Look, my arms are goosebumps.”
“Why are Berlin and Jiang still on deck? Aren’t they cold? Should we call them in?”
“Let’s forget it. If they’re cold, they will come in themselves. It’s rare to have a sea trip, let’s not disturb them.”
Jiang Shuiran pursed his lips, hesitated for a moment, then took the half apple.
He seemed a little unhappy, turning half-way away from Berlin, his arm resting loosely on the railing, reluctantly nibbling at the apple.
Just looking at Jiang Shuiran’s way of eating the apple, swallowing every bite slowly, it really gave the impression of a celebrity trying to lose weight by chewing slowly.
Berlin propped his chin on his hand, half his body leaning on the railing, gazing at the sea.
From somewhere, the fog had dispersed.
The black shadows he had seen earlier were gone.
Berlin boredly leaned on his arm and looked down, belatedly realizing something was wrong.
Was the sea always this dark…?
He stiffened slightly, squinting his eyes and looking down at the overly dark sea.
The black shadows weren’t gone. Rather, the black shadows were everywhere within sight.
These underwater behemoths moved incredibly fast, and the sea was eerily calm. The sound of the violently crashing waves had almost stopped, and there was a faint, sticky smell of blood in the air.
It was too quiet.
Berlin didn’t have any proof, he just had a hunch—something was right beneath their ship.
He subconsciously turned to Jiang Shuiran.
Jiang Shuiran didn’t react, still sulking and wrestling with the apple.
He had noticed, so Jiang Shuiran couldn’t have been unaware.
But Jiang Shuiran’s reaction was too calm; it seemed that the things under the sea were less bothersome than the apple.
Strangely, Berlin was infected by this relaxed state; everything unknown beneath the deep sea seemed insignificant.
Until he looked away and met an eye.