Chapter 7: A Sensible Person, Finally
Xia Yang exhaled sharply, feeling his patience wear dangerously thin. His ankle was throbbing like hell, and these so-called celebrities were just standing around like useless statues, watching him suffer as if he were some kind of live entertainment.
Fine. If they wanted to watch, then he'd at least get something out of it.
"Hey, does anyone have ointment?" he asked, his voice edged with irritation.
Silence.
No one moved. No one spoke. Some of them exchanged awkward glances, while others blatantly looked away, suddenly fascinated by the walls or their own shoes. A few even seemed to be holding back laughter, their shoulders trembling slightly.
Xia Yang's eyebrow twitched.
"…The fuck? Are you all deaf?"
Still, no one answered.
The livestream chat was already in chaos.
[User: LOL, this guy is FEARLESS]
[User: HELP I CAN'T BREATHE]
[User: He is my spirit animal]
[User: Why is he so angry but so pretty??]
Xia Yang's patience snapped.
"Why the fuck does no one have ointment?!" he snapped, glaring at the stunned crowd. "What kind of rich, pampered celebrities are you if not a single one of you carries a goddamn first-aid kit?! You all spend so much money on your damn faces, and NONE of you have emergency skincare?!"
The celebrities stiffened. A few stylists in the background exchanged guilty glances. Someone snorted—quickly covering their mouth to avoid being seen on camera.
The livestream exploded.
[User: NOT THE SKINCARE INSULT]
[User: He just called them high-maintenance broke people]
[User: This is the best variety show episode in HISTORY]
[User: Angry Bird has NO FILTER]
[User: I need this man to insult me next]
Just as Xia Yang was about to start another round of insults, a figure lazily stood up from the crowd.
Xia Yang barely had time to react before the man walked over, moving with a relaxed confidence that somehow made him stand out even more.
Dressed in a simple black T-shirt and ripped jeans, he looked effortlessly good. His black, slightly tousled hair framed his sharp, handsome features, and his dark eyes—calm and unreadable—locked onto Xia Yang with quiet amusement.
Without a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small tin, and held it out.
Xia Yang blinked.
He glanced down at the object in the man's hand—a container of herbal ointment.
Then he looked back up at the man's face.
For a long second, they just stared at each other.
Xia Yang clicked his tongue, reaching out to take the ointment. "At least someone is fucking sensible," he muttered.
The man didn't react, simply watching as Xia Yang flipped open the lid.
Just as he was about to apply it—
His vision suddenly blurred.
The world around him wavered, the bright lights becoming hazy. The voices of the people around him faded into a distant hum. A strange dizziness crashed over him, dragging him down like an invisible force.
What the hell?
His fingers twitched. His grip on the ointment loosened.
The chat went wild.
[User: WAIT WHY IS HE SWAYING]
[User: HELLO???]
[User: IS HE OKAY???]
[User: SOMEONE HELP HIM WTF]
Xia Yang felt his body tilt forward. His stomach flipped, and his limbs felt impossibly heavy, like he was sinking into quicksand.
Shit. Was this exhaustion? A delayed reaction from the escape?
He could barely think. His mouth moved on instinct, his voice sluggish.
"Hey… when I wake up… can someone get me seafood…?"
And then—
Everything went black.