Canned Souls 14

The next day, only the morning session was recorded. At noon, everyone went their separate ways for a two-day break, after which they'd regroup to finish the remaining segments.

Yan Xianchuan followed Lu Mingqiu back to Nanjin City.

The actress's home was exactly like her—warm, harmonious, and inviting. A faint fragrance lingered in the air, putting you at ease the moment you stepped inside.

Two orchids sat on the windowsill, their green leaves spread wide in vibrant bloom.

Light blue curtains hung half-drawn, cutting the sunlight into soft patterns. A beige tapestry with fine tassels depicted golden wheat waves woven from thread.

"This is the bedroom. If anything isn't to your liking, please let me know," Lu Mingqiu said.

If Yan Xianchuan had to be honest, there wasn't a single thing out of place in this room—except that it was too warm, too much like home.

"No, it's fine. Thank you," Yan Xianchuan said with a polite nod. Her expression was no different from during the show, but the subtle body language was gone.

She no longer intentionally drew close to Lu Mingqiu, closing the distance between them, nor did she gaze at her for prolonged moments as if unwilling to part even for a second. She didn't even tack on a "darling" at the end of her sentences.

They were only slight changes, yet the faint sweetness between them dissolved instantly, like a soap bubble in the sunlight, leaving no trace.

"For dinner, if you'd like to go out, there's a shopping mall downstairs; if you'd rather stay in, the bedside has the property management number—just tell them what you want, and they'll deliver," Lu Mingqiu said warmly and politely. "Don't be shy."

"I'll keep that in mind." Yan Xianchuan glanced at the door, her intent to see Lu Mingqiu out unmistakable.

"You've worked hard on the show, so get some good rest. I won't disturb you," Lu Mingqiu said, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

They had dinner separately. Yan Xianchuan went downstairs for barbecue, though she had no idea what Lu Mingqiu did for her meal.

While eating, Yan Xianchuan pulled up a light screen and browsed the internet. The livestream had caused a huge buzz, and even content unrelated to the entertainment section was being pushed to her.

With a spark of curiosity, she clicked on posts about herself. The comments were relatively civil, with no negative remarks.

That was rather surprising.

Some speculated about her identity, but replies shushed them, since nothing could be dug up—which only narrowed the field.

Elsewhere, fans of Xie Chuxiao and Dordona were at each other's throats, though for now it was just name-calling. Without external intervention, they would likely escalate to mudslinging and digging up dirt.

Dordona, however, had little to fear. Since her debut, her brand had been authenticity, with nothing to hide; she had entered the industry simply to give her hobby something to do.

The only angle to attack her was the usual "arrogant" and "low emotional intelligence" routine, which didn't sting at all. Fans took after their idol, and Dordona's followers were just as willful and fiercely combative.

Xie Chuxiao was a different story. The blacker the crow, the more it cherishes its feathers, and he had to cloak himself in stolen white ones.

If anyone really dug into his past, Xie Chuxiao wouldn't survive the scrutiny.

So right after the livestream ended, he posted a statement saying the two of them had a great relationship, that he wasn't bothered by anything on the island, and that Dordona's personality was genuine and likable.

Not long after, Dordona posted: "Speak for yourself, don't drag me into it." It was like hot oil hitting water—an instant explosion.

Yan Xianchuan discovered for the first time that she had a taste for gossip. She spent the whole night reading their dirt, utterly engrossed, unable to stop.

Until the person sleeping in the next bedroom abruptly disappeared.

Yan Xianchuan glanced out the window. If she remembered correctly, this was the ninety-ninth floor.

Lu Mingqiu's true identity was known only to her two fellow leaders and Su Hong—no one else.

So the only Nanjin City branch the organization knew about was a warehouse at 153 Olive Street.

Danyou Media wasn't known to the public.

The branch usually held only researchers and stationed members; espers didn't all stay there to avoid being wiped out in one sweep. Only upon receiving orders did they return from their respective safe houses and gather together.

Every member who joined had a mental imprint placed by Lu Mingqiu herself. Should anyone betray, the imprint would send a reverse signal, alerting her instantly.

Most who passed the review had deep grudges against the conglomerates and shared the same ideals, so betrayal was unthinkable.

Now, the thought that comrades who once stood shoulder to shoulder had turned coat and become lapdogs of power made them want to tear the traitor apart with their bare teeth.

From the moment the order for a full review came down, the harmonious atmosphere among members evaporated. Under seemingly ordinary greetings lay mutual probing, every word laced with cunning.

In just one day, the underground hub, cut off from external communications, felt like a volcano starting to stir, heat building beneath the surface. The restless energy only settled when Lu Mingqiu arrived.

She still wore her full disguise, a plain mask over a pair of eyes like a falcon poised to strike.

"It's against my will to issue such an order, because it means a crack has appeared in the bond of trust we share—bonds where we'd stake our lives on each other."

"I, too, refuse to believe that among those here, someone would yield to interest, be seduced by power, and choose to abandon their own people."

"Yet the failed operation is right before us, forcing me to believe and to suspect."

"I genuinely hope I'm wrong."

Lu Mingqiu swept her gaze across the room. Some showed anger, some coldness, others studied the faces around them. Standing at the head, she took it all in.

"Let's start with those who were with me last time."

With that, she pushed open the side door and walked into the adjacent room.

The first to enter was Gold Ring, who sat down with a candid expression.

"How's your arm healing?" Lu Mingqiu asked, her tone fairly gentle.

"Just a scratch, and with Doc operating, it's long healed." Gold Ring flexed his arm to show all was well.

"Good," Lu Mingqiu said. "Relax your mind."

Gold Ring closed his eyes without any resistance, letting Lu Mingqiu's mental energy invade his brain.

In truth, given Lu Mingqiu's esper level, resistance would be futile even if he tried. The organization's intel listed her as an A-rank mental esper, but she was actually S-rank.

To her, everyone's automatic mental defenses were like soap bubbles—one poke and they'd burst.

But Lu Mingqiu was accustomed to lowering people's guard with words, and her esper power was in constant use; this was the true source of her remarkable charisma.

It wasn't brainwashing or hypnosis, but subtle influence.

It made her appear more harmless and approachable, making others unconsciously let down their guard, draw closer, and like her more.

The organization needed a public face, and everything she'd done so far was groundwork for that.

What better way to gain public visibility than a well-known figure?

Gold Ring was clean, and so were all the others who'd accompanied her last time.

The review proceeded steadily. Each person who came out looked noticeably relieved, chatting in small groups while casting skeptical glances at those still waiting.

The traitor was likely among them.

If there really was a mole, they wouldn't live to see another day.

"You seem a bit nervous," said someone wearing a black diamond pendant, approaching. This was Mirror.

She could change her appearance at will, and only a very few knew her true face. She used a different look each time but always wore that necklace as identification.

This time, she appeared as a kindly old woman.

Stinger stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Nervous?" He deliberately scoffed. "I think your eyesight's gone. When have I ever been nervous?"

Mirror pushed up her reading glasses, flashing a full set of gleaming ceramic dentures. "Young man, why so hot-tempered? Just making conversation."

Stinger let out a snort, wiping the sweat from his palms onto the inside of his pocket.

Oriole's mental esper power was notoriously troublesome; nearly every traitor had been rooted out by her. Combined with her neural computer, it was like adding wings to a tiger—no one could keep secrets anymore.

But the neural computer had severe side effects. An ordinary person would sink into a week of mental disorder, incapable of basic self-care. A trained soldier might recover in four to five days, while an esper needed two to three days to bounce back.

Moreover, the device was rare, and the organization had only two units. After the last use, they'd been moved away, so this review relied solely on her.

Espers had stronger minds, but compared to Oriole, they were like eggs against stones. If she wanted, she could casually rummage through someone's memories, even details the original owner had forgotten, so long as they existed in the brain—she'd know it all.

Stinger didn't know if he'd make it through.