These words sounded like something from a political education class, and Evelyn recited them fluently: “But virtual celebrities are different. They look good, have strong professional skills, perfect personalities with no scandals, and can even teach kids to study hard and make progress every day…”

William Clark clapped enthusiastically.

Brilliant!

But Evelyn continued, “Those were things from the era of mass production, back when peace had just been restored and everything was strictly controlled. Now that conditions have improved, things have loosened up.

Early virtual celebrities were all perfect, but later the audience got bored, so things became a mess. Teams started giving virtual celebrities all kinds of personas and different paths; there’s gossip between them, competition for resources, even dating and marriage.

Now the technology is very advanced. If you have a team, it only takes a few months from planning to launch. If you do it individually, it can be done in a few days. So every day, tens of thousands of virtual celebrities are created, but very few survive.

The audience doesn’t care either—if they don’t like this one, there’s always another. It’s like… like that word you mentioned?”

“‘Involution’?”

“Right, it’s extremely involuted!”

Interesting!

William Clark pondered for a moment and asked, “Do you know why it’s like this?”

“Why?”

“Works and cost! High-quality works are scarce, and the low cost of creating virtual celebrities leads to an oversupply—that’s the fundamental contradiction. It’s the same for real celebrities: without works, how do you stay popular? By resorting to tricks!”

As he spoke, a thought slowly surfaced in his mind.

He pulled out a USB drive, randomly copied a video from his computer, and asked, “Can this be used?”

“Wow, this is the first time I’ve seen such a well-preserved antique.”

“Hey, this is brand new!”

“Close enough, I get what you mean.”

Evelyn rummaged through the pile of junk, found a computer similar to a modern laptop, and a converter that looked like a card reader. After fiddling with them, she nodded, “Yep, it works!”

“Great!”

The two used their own devices, able to connect to their own networks, though they had to convert in between.

The data transfer was successful, and William Clark was very happy. Then he slowly crouched down, hands squeezed between his knees, looking a bit shy: “I need to use the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I need to use the bathroom!”

“Then just go, why are you shouting?”

Evelyn showed a look of disgust and got up to open the bedroom door.

William Clark felt inexplicably nervous, stood at the doorway, lifted his foot, and carefully stepped through—nothing unusual happened. He really could come over to this side.

Outside the bedroom wasn’t a living room, but a simple kitchen, with a small door leading to a narrow bathroom. Inside, there was just a toilet and a washbasin—nothing special.

“Why does this feel a bit like a communal building? But a bit nicer than that…”

He looked around while shouting, “You go in, and no peeking!”

“I’m not a pervert! Say that again and I’ll hit you!”

Evelyn fished a small red ball out of her pocket and waved it vigorously.

“What is that thing, anyway?”

“It was originally a toy, but after several upgrades, it became a self-defense weapon.”

Alright then!

After he finished, he returned to the bedroom and said, “I just checked my phone—there’s no signal in the bathroom, but there is in here. These two bedrooms really do form a unique space. Anyway, it’s getting late, time to sleep.”

“Sleep?” She almost threw the ball at him.

“Sleep separately! Separately!”

……

Tonight felt especially long.

Sleep? No way! Who could sleep?

The curtains were already drawn, with a low table underneath, and a sticker on the table that read 【和平共处原则】.

There was no sound from the other side; who knew what the girl was doing. William Clark lay on the bed, playing with his phone. If he turned over even a little, the light and shadows would be cast onto the curtain.

He could almost hear her breathing from the other side.

It was a strange feeling—real yet unreal, close yet distant, strangers to each other, yet somehow under the same roof…

After lying there for a long time, he finally sent a message to his mom, basically saying he was going to Hengdian and wouldn’t be back for a while.

After a while, who knows if she was drinking or playing mahjong, she replied with just three words: “Got it!”

“Sigh…”

His parents had always raised him with a hands-off approach, not caring much, but he’d never lacked for anything materially. Even after their divorce, they left him a decent inheritance—the fresh food supermarket was originally his mom’s.

She knew he had friends in Hengdian.

Media studies covers a wide range: journalism, marketing, product design, creative performance—all of it counts. He had a buddy named Henry Parker, who went into the film and TV industry as a screenwriter after graduation.

He’d ghostwritten, written scripts for variety shows, worked as an assistant to big-name writers, and was currently a crew screenwriter, slogging away every day revising lines for those traffic stars.

He couldn’t handle long scripts, didn’t recognize rare characters, and if someone added scenes, others would have to lose theirs… That’s the life of a crew screenwriter.

The hard work was one thing, but the real issue was not seeing any money. Old Meng spent half the year writing, the other half chasing payments. His biggest wish was just to get his name credited.

Involution!

New graduates are caught in involution, and the entertainment industry is even worse. Since the 2003 film policy reform, how many students have graduated from the three major art schools every year? Plus all those dancers, singers, talent show contestants, and art students from other schools fighting for a spot.