Top Influencer Flees Overnight: The Calm Before the Storm

At one o'clock in the morning, a roaring sound suddenly came from the sky above the island where the Heartbeat House is located.

A strong wind whipped up fallen leaves from the beach, and a private medical helicopter broke the silence of the night, landing discreetly on an open ground far from Villa A.

Chaos was raging inside the luxurious sea-view room on the second floor of Building A.

Zhou Yuxuan's handsome face, which should have appeared on the cover of major fashion magazines, was now deathly pale.

He was frantically stuffing all the expensive haute couture suits and limited-edition sneakers from his wardrobe into that six-figure suitcase.

His hands were trembling uncontrollably.

As soon as he closes his eyes, the piercing alarm sound of the medical-grade heart rate monitor automatically plays in his mind.

And Lin Mo's question, "Braised or steamed?", which was filled with utmost contempt and mockery.

That wasn't the frequency of his heartbeat at all; it was the death knell that shattered Zhou Yuxuan's self-esteem as a top male star into dust!

"Hurry up! Pack up quickly! I don't want to stay in this awful place for even a second longer!" Zhou Yuxuan roared at his sweating manager beside him.

He knew that his clumsy performance during the day, which resembled that of a clown, had been seen by the entire internet.

His pride and joy—his good looks, talent, and flirting skills—were utterly defeated in front of that ordinary woman who couldn't even be bothered to change her clothes.

If he stays any longer, he will not only lose his last shred of dignity, but he may even become the biggest laughing stock of the year in the entire entertainment industry.

The agent frantically fastened his suitcase while wiping away cold sweat: "Yuxuan, don't worry, the PR team has already prepared the press release! We'll release it as soon as we board the plane!"

Ten minutes later, the helicopter, carrying the fleeing top streamers, quickly took off like stray dogs and disappeared into the vast night.

At 1:30 a.m., Zhou Yuxuan's personal studio released an extremely serious emergency statement on Weibo.

The statement said: Mr. Zhou Yuxuan suffered from "sudden acute gastroenteritis" due to acclimatization issues while filming a program on an island. He was in excruciating pain and had to withdraw from the competition overnight to ensure the safety of the artist. He was then sent to a private hospital in Beijing for treatment.

The moment this statement was released, the comments section was instantly overwhelmed by netizens who had been celebrating all night because of the "heartbeat test".

The words of modern netizens are like poison.

[Acute gastroenteritis? I think it's more like acute shattered self-esteem syndrome!]

[What the hell?! You didn't have gastroenteritis when you ate A5 Wagyu beef during the day? Did you get so scared by Lin Shen's words that you bought a standing ticket and ran away overnight?]

[A medical miracle! Miss Jiang's heart rate of 145 didn't kill her, but it did bring out Zhou Dingliu's gastrointestinal problems!]

[This is hilarious! Calling a helicopter overnight, the way they're running away must have been exhausting, bro.]

[Zhou Yuxuan: As long as I run fast enough, Lin Mo's taunts can't catch me.]

Amidst the online mockery and celebration, the island welcomed the dawn of a new day.

The morning sea breeze, carrying a salty, damp scent, dispelled the hustle and bustle of last night.

In the open-plan hall on the first floor of the villa, the director, holding a megaphone, announced with a blank expression to the guests who had just woken up the regrettable news that the guest star had to withdraw from the competition due to illness.

A brief, deathly silence fell over the air.

Zhao Kuo's half-peeled boiled egg fell with a "thud" onto the expensive solid wood dining table.

This usually arrogant rich kid was now deathly pale, and his legs were even trembling slightly.

He was working with Zhou Yuxuan to target Lin Mo last night!

Now his biggest backer, his shield that drew the fire, has actually fled in the dead of night?!

Zhao Kuo stiffly turned his neck and glanced guiltily at the man who was slowly walking out of the storage room in Building C.

Lin Mo still wore the same standard outfit that never changed.

A faded gray oversized T-shirt, a pair of loose-fitting shorts, and plastic flip-flops that made a "clattering" sound when he walked.

With his slightly messy, tousled hair, he yawned and scratched the back of his head in a completely unladylike manner.

Upon hearing the director's announcement, Lin Mo lazily lifted his eyelids slightly, a barely perceptible smile flashing in his deep black eyes.

"Oh? He's that sick?" Lin Mo's tone was tinged with extremely insincere regret. "What a pity. I was planning to dig up some herbs and cook him a medicinal porridge to treat his excessive internal heat."

Upon hearing the word "empty," Zhao Kuo shuddered violently, silently moving his chair back half a meter, not daring to utter a word.

Lin Mo ignored the trembling villain and strolled into the spacious communal kitchen.

At this moment, his mood could only be described as one of springtime joy.

The annoying flies have finally flown away, and the air feels much fresher.

As Lin Mo rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, revealing his strong and smooth muscle lines, he hummed an unknown tune in a very leisurely manner.

He picked out a piece of top-quality pork tenderloin with excellent texture from the refrigerated display case, and then took out two crystal-clear, lead-free preserved eggs from a personal belongings box in the corner.

The blade flashed.

There are no exaggerated displays of skill, only the ultimate mastery etched into the very bones by two lifetimes of experience, the essence of "human life".

The pork tenderloin is minced into fine strands, then marinated with shredded ginger, cooking wine, and a little starch.

After soaking the Northeast rice for half an hour, put it into a clay pot, bring it to a boil over high heat, then turn to low heat and simmer until the rice grains bloom like snowflakes, and the rich aroma of rice wafts out through the window.

Lin Mo would never admit that his good mood at the moment was due to his victory in "defending his sovereignty" by the sofa last night.

He told himself with absolute certainty: it was simply because there was one less person fighting for food, and supplies were more plentiful.

But when he slid the sliced ​​preserved egg and marinated shredded lean meat into the boiling congee, his hand paused involuntarily.

Immediately afterwards, this veteran cadre, who was extremely particular about the original flavor of ingredients, inexplicably grabbed a large handful of lean meat from the side and threw it in.

He even carefully picked out all the chopped scallions and shredded ginger.

Because a certain pampered young lady likes to eat large pieces of meat and extremely dislikes the taste of scallions, ginger, and garlic.

All these actions were fluid and graceful, carrying a kind of doting and possessiveness that even he himself was unaware of.

"It smells so good..."

A soft, sweet murmur with a thick nasal tone suddenly came from the kitchen doorway.

Jiang Ruoyun was wearing a loose silk nightgown, her long black hair was casually tied back with a clip, and a few stray hairs playfully hung down her slender, fair neck.

With her eyes closed, she drifted like a little gluttonous cat following the aroma of the meat porridge, eventually arriving behind Lin Mo.

Then, very naturally, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Lin Mo's lean waist, gently resting her chin on his broad back.

It even rubbed against me with a grumpy, morning-wake-up-and-go attitude.

Feeling the extremely soft touch on his back, Lin Mo's hand holding the soup spoon stiffened slightly.

The alarm bell of 145 last night seems to be playing in my ears again.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the strange ripple in his heart, and tapped her head with the handle of the spoon in an annoyed tone: "Miss Jiang, do you have no bones? Go wash your hands and get a bowl."

Jiang Ruoyun didn't loosen her grip; instead, she hugged him even tighter, her voice carrying a righteous yet charming tone: "No, I'm too hungry to eat. You serve me some."

At this moment, in front of a giant screen in a villa halfway up a hill in Beijing.

Jiang Jianguo held a bowl of seafood porridge that his family's five-star chef had just cooked, but he just couldn't bring himself to drink it.

He stared intently at the pot of golden, glistening, and enticingly fragrant congee with preserved egg and lean pork on the live stream screen, and couldn't help but swallow hard.

This kid's cooking is so delicious, it's like I can almost smell the aroma through the screen!

But when he saw his precious daughter, who usually wouldn't even let a man touch her, clinging to Lin Mo's back like a koala, the old father's blood pressure shot up again.

"Bang!"

Jiang Jianguo slammed his hand on the rosewood tabletop, his anger blazing: "What kind of behavior is this! Hugging and kissing so early in the morning! Butler, prepare the car! I'm going to the airport! I'm going to that island to personally chop down this pig who's stealing my cabbage!"

housekeeper:"........"

"Sit down."

Song Wan, who was copying calligraphy next to her, didn't even raise her head, her voice soft yet carrying an undeniable authority.

She finished the last stroke, slowly put down the brush, and pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses: "What are you going to do? Go try someone else's preserved egg and lean pork congee? Can you cook it to that level of doneness? You even picked out the scallions so neatly. You didn't have that kind of attention to detail when you were pursuing me."

Jiang Jianguo was hit where it hurt, his face flushed, and after a long pause, he could only manage to stammer, "Then...then he's also a penniless pauper! What if my daughter suffers with him!"

Song Wan sneered, picked up her teacup, and looked intently at the young man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist on the screen.

"Poor? Old Jiang, all you see is money."

"This young man's hands can repair Ding kiln white porcelain and create unique sugar paintings. The composure he exudes, remaining calm even when Mount Tai collapses before him, surpasses half that of all the young masters from prominent families in the capital. Ruoyun, that girl, has a sharp eye, just like me."

Jiang Jianguo was completely speechless. He could only lower his head and drink a mouthful of the tasteless seafood porridge in his bowl, like a three-hundred-month-old child who had been wronged.

……

Time on the island seemed to slow down after Zhou Yuxuan left.

The sea was calm and the sun was shining brightly during the day.

The production team, in an extremely unusual move, did not issue any mandatory tasks to cause trouble, and even the radio stopped ringing.

After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, they enjoyed the sea breeze under the parasols. Even Zhao Kuo and Lin Chacha only dared to hide on the lounge chairs in the corner and play on their phones, not daring to breathe too loudly, for fear of offending some evil spirit.

The entire style of "Heart Signal" has completely gone astray, turning into a slow-paced retirement vacation variety show.

In the dilapidated courtyard of Building C, Lin Mo found two sturdy coconut trees and used the leftover vines from a few days ago to weave himself an extremely comfortable hammock.

He covered his face with the tattered straw hat, put his hands behind his head, and swayed slowly in the sea breeze.

Jiang Ruoyun moved a small stool and sat obediently by the hammock.

She didn't say anything, just held a comic book she'd somehow found, occasionally looking up with sparkling eyes at Lin Mo's chest rising and falling slightly with his breath.

Sunlight filters through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows.

This is the epitome of peaceful and serene life.

Lin Mo felt a rare moment of leisure, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up slightly.

In his subconscious, he had already driven away the male celebrity who loved to cause trouble, and the rest of the people were no threat at all.

As for the exorbitant penalty of five million?

If he continues to maintain this hopeless, slacking attitude, by the time the final settlement is made at the end of the month, the audience will definitely be tired of seeing him like a dead fish.

If you end up at the bottom of the rankings, you'll be naturally eliminated, and your slave contract will automatically become invalid.

Debt-free, I can finally go back to farming.

"Perfect."

Lin Mo let out a satisfied sigh from under his straw hat, closed his eyes with peace of mind, and fell into a deep sleep.

Night fell quickly.

The waves crashed against the rocks, creating a rhythmic and soothing white noise.

Because the daytime was too relaxing, the guests returned to their rooms early and turned off the lights to rest.

Lin Mo lay on the mortise and tenon wooden bed in Building C, which he had personally crafted, listening to the sea breeze outside the window and enjoying the extremely tranquil night.

He thought the trouble was finally over and he could sleep soundly until dawn.

However, what he didn't know was...

On the other side of the island, in that dark and oppressive backstage monitoring room of the production crew.

The director was staring intently at the red line graph of viewership ratings on the main screen.

That line, starting from the moment Lin Mo approached Jiang Ruoyun last night and the heart rate monitor went off the charts, was like a rocket, breaking through the highest extreme value in the history of domestic variety shows at an extremely terrifying vertical angle!

The terms "Lin Mo slaps down top celebrities", "Jiang Ruoyun's heart rate of 145", and "Braised or steamed" are currently dominating the top ten trending topics on the entire internet!

Lin Mo thought he was just slacking off, but little did he know that his nonchalant attitude had become the biggest secret to the show's popularity!

The director held a half-burnt cigarette between his fingers, and through the swirling smoke, his cloudy eyes gleamed with an extremely greedy and sinister light.

"Want to relax and coast through the workday? Dream on."

The director stubbed out his cigarette, a chilling smirk playing on his lips, and slowly picked up the walkie-talkie on the table.