Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Though he had already returned, he couldn’t hold his beloved Shuangshuang in his arms, and to make matters worse, Shuangshuang was heartbroken. Qi Yueyue’s thoughts grew darker and more depressed. The restless spirit within him surged uncontrollably, the resentment deepening in his heart.

He hated the heavens and the earth, he hated all people under the sky, he hated the Taoist Association. If it weren’t for the need to save them, how could he have been foolish enough to sacrifice himself and be separated from Shuangshuang by the veil between life and death?

He hated Shuangshuang even more…

Damn it! Instinctively, Qi Yueyue struck his own head with a fist, finally clearing his mind. The crimson glow in his eyes faded away.

He sighed helplessly. This was what a vengeful spirit was like: resentment constantly growing, ready to cloud one’s mind at the slightest lapse.

Enough. If he continued to bottle it up, something truly bad might happen. He decided to find those who had insulted Shuangshuang online and take revenge on her behalf.

With that thought, Qi Yueyue glanced at the still-haunted elevator, warning Mu Ju not to cause any fatalities, then transformed into an invisible wisp of black smoke and drifted into an apartment where a computer was left running.

***

The eerie moment when the livestream suddenly cut off was dismissed as a special effect created for the show, and few paid it any mind.

Even though recent society and the internet had been rife with supernatural occurrences and renowned occult figures, years of materialistic belief had many treating such stories as mere curiosities; unless it happened to them personally, they wouldn’t believe in ghosts.

Thus, viewers quickly forgot the momentary strangeness and began fervently discussing Qi Yueyue online.

The hashtag #SuspectedAppearanceOfGu Yunshuang’sChildhoodFriend# quickly trended, but it was trending for all the wrong reasons.

“Just as expected from someone who copied Xue Tinghe’s appearance for plastic surgery—plagiarism that’s more likely to outshine the original. With the original as a base, copycats don’t have to think much, just cherry-pick the best parts. Disgusting!”

“What’s wrong with a grown man using his own hands and feet? Why come here to disgust people? They deliberately made him look this way to sell him alongside Gu Niupi for a better price! Looks decent on the surface, but who knows if behind the scenes they’re cooking up dirt with Gu Niupi?”

“It must make Xue Tinghe sick to see such a leech riding his coattails. I feel so sorry for Master Xue. Why doesn’t this disgusting creature who rose to fame by selling their ass just die? Living is just polluting the environment and harming the innocent. I pray heaven takes them soon!”

...

The haters and paid trolls were vicious. Whenever a kind comment for Qi Yueyue or Gu Yunshuang appeared online, they would swarm to attack and silence the commenter.

No one dared speak for Gu Yunshuang or Qi Yueyue anymore, which only emboldened the haters.

They all knew New Wave Entertainment wouldn’t take real action, that Gu Yunshuang couldn’t sue them due to company restrictions, so Gu Yunshuang was the perfect target for their unchecked verbal abuse.

Although Gu’s fans had long been accustomed to the slander and defamation online, seeing comment after comment filled with insults like “plastic surgery monster,” “selling ass,” “cheap dog,” “disgusting,” “go die” still broke their hearts.

Why was it happening again? Gu Yunshuang had done nothing yet had to endure such malice.

They wanted to fight back with their keyboards for three days and nights, to let everyone know Gu Yunshuang wasn’t as bad as these haters claimed—that it was all malicious slander.

But they had done this before, back when Gu Yunshuang was first targeted.

Back then, the internet was flooded with battles between fans and haters.

Yet it was futile. The haters seemed endless, as if backed by countless armies, impossible to defeat. Worse, the fans were inexplicably throttled online.

The prolonged fan-hater war seriously damaged Gu Yunshuang’s public image.

Many outsiders, unwilling to delve into the truth, simply saw the chaotic online environment and the name Gu Yunshuang repeatedly associated with negativity, concluding that no fly would land on a flawless egg. If so many haters kept biting, the star must be a bad person. Their disgust for Gu Yunshuang only grew.

Some even joined the haters.

The fans realized the severity of the situation and became desperate, their words sometimes crossing lines, which became another point of attack for the haters—fans attacking others personally dragged the star down as well.

So even more outsiders began to detest Gu Yunshuang.

Later, fans were doxxed by haters.

Throughout it all, New Wave Entertainment remained silent, as if dead, letting the situation spiral.

Finally, Gu Yunshuang stepped forward to help the targeted fan report to the police, paying for lawyers himself and publicly stating that haters could attack him but must not touch his fans—otherwise, he would not rest.

Only then did New Wave Entertainment stop pretending to be dead, sending a few lawyer notices and placating the fans. The matter was put to rest.

Afterwards, Gu Yunshuang strictly forbade his fans from engaging in online fights with haters or personal attacks.

Many fans thought Gu Yunshuang was too timid, disappointed that while they fought fiercely for him, he only endured in silence like a coward, and some even unfollowed or turned against him.

Those who remained truly cared for Gu Yunshuang, feeling pain and injustice on his behalf.

***

Seeing the situation unchanged, though they restrained themselves from fighting back online, their hearts ached even more.

Each vicious insult felt like a poisoned dagger ruthlessly cutting into their own hearts.

If they felt this pain, how much more must Gu Yunshuang, surrounded and attacked by such venom, be suffering?

Though Gu Yunshuang always appeared steady and unmoved by outside matters, hearts are made of flesh and blood—how could he not feel pain?

They desperately wanted to do something for him, not just stand behind while he bore all the cruelty alone, yet they didn’t know what to do.

Xu Tong was one of the fans doxxed by haters. Having been attacked before, she knew how terrifying cyberbullying could be.

She felt even deeper sympathy for Gu Yunshuang, who despite his precarious situation, still wanted to protect his remaining fans.

She truly wished she could help him somehow, rather than just watch helplessly.

At that moment, a faint, ethereal, eerie voice whispered in her ear: “Sowing ill words brings one to the Tongue-Pulled Hell. Go, type this phrase—then they will be punished.”

Xu Tong’s eyes glazed for a moment before long-suppressed resentment burst forth like a floodgate opening.

If only the Tongue-Pulled Hell really existed, all these vile haters would deserve to be dragged there!

After venting her anger, she noticed she had posted that very phrase in the comment section.

And she wasn’t alone—slowly then rapidly, more and more people began copying and pasting the same phrase into the comments.

They were powerless against the haters’ relentless attacks and could only hope this phrase might curse them with retribution.

Gu Yunshuang’s fans shared the same wish, frantically copying and pasting the phrase. Though fewer in number than the haters, their task was simpler and faster.

Moreover, they didn’t name or insult anyone personally, so technically it wasn’t a fight.

Thinking this way, fueled by rage and resentment, they pasted the phrase more and more joyfully.

Soon, the comment section showed a strange pattern: among every four or five hateful comments against Gu Yunshuang and Qi Yueyue, one comment appeared like a curse.

Though not directly clashing with the haters, these comments placed side by side were ironically—and eerily—striking.

The fans didn’t care; unable to match the haters in argument, they vented their anger by repeating this phrase, feeling it was somewhat effective.

After enough venting, they felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted, their minds clear, spirits refreshed, as if several pounds had been shed from their bodies—a true release.

Looking back at the comments, they were surprised to see the entire section flooded with the same phrase, and the haters’ comments had mysteriously vanished.

What was happening?

Had the haters fled in anger or suddenly gone on break? Could it really be that they had been scared off by the Tongue-Pulled Hell curse?

***

Kou Wuzhe was an old-school hater of Gu Yunshuang, always eager to slander and mock him online.

Whenever Gu Yunshuang’s name appeared, Kou was like a hyena catching the scent—arriving at lightning speed to viciously tear into Gu and anyone friendly to him.

Tonight was no different; throughout the livestream, he never stopped defaming and insulting Gu Yunshuang.

He vented all his frustrations and grievances from work and life onto Gu Yunshuang’s name, each comment more venomous than the last, poisoning the air like a serpent’s venom.

He felt refreshed and clear-headed from the verbal assault—until he noticed Gu Yunshuang’s fans suddenly acting strangely, repeatedly copying and pasting the same phrase.

At first, he was puzzled.

In the troll chat groups, others mocked, “Ignore them. They’re useless idiots venting their rage here. Let’s post more comments and earn more money.”

“Heh, not only can we trash that Gu bastard, we get paid too. Nothing better in this world.”

“Gu’s really tough. We’ve been insulting him for so long, and he still acts like nothing’s wrong, unlike the previous female star at his company who jumped off a building after a few days of insults.”

Kou sneered, “The longer he holds out, the more money we get from the big bosses.”

Many in the group agreed and pledged to work harder.

Kou doubled down on his hateful comments.

But gradually, he felt an inexplicable chill creeping up from his feet to his head.

It was as cold as an ice cellar, freezing him to the bone. His teeth chattered, and his fingers stiffened, making typing difficult.

The speed of his keystrokes slowed, and he made more typos due to numbness.

His commenting grew slower and slower.

“Damn! It’s almost summer, why did it suddenly get so cold?” Kou cursed silently, standing to turn on the heater.

He set the heater to the highest setting but felt no warmth—if anything, it seemed even colder.

Annoyed, he messaged the group: “Damn, sudden cold snap, heater broken, blowing cold air. Nearly froze to death. That’s it for me tonight.”

Unexpectedly, others quickly replied.

“WTF! Bro, you’re from my area? Same here, sudden cold, heater broken too, highest setting but still cold air, freezing me solid!”

“No way? Me too, almost freezing to death!”

“Me too!”

“Me too!”

...

More and more group members replied “Me too.” Kou realized something was wrong.

These people were from all over the country. It was impossible for such a sudden nationwide cold snap to happen and for all their heaters to break simultaneously.

Instinctively, he glanced at the computer’s comment section.

It was filled with the phrase “Sowing ill words brings one to the Tongue-Pulled Hell,” densely packed across the screen, a sight so shocking it sent chills down his spine.

He cursed the fans as crazy.

Looking back at the phone group chat, the “Me too” messages suddenly twisted and stretched, oozing blood, transforming into bloody lines of “Sowing ill words brings one to the Tongue-Pulled Hell,” filling the entire screen and even seeming to drip off the phone.

“Ah!” Kou screamed in terror, throwing his phone.

Looking back at the phone on the floor, the screen still showed rows of “Me too” with no changes.

Still shaken, Kou thought he must have been hallucinating from exhaustion.

But the cold feeling deepened, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. He decided to call it a night, thinking maybe Gu was just lucky tonight.

Reaching for the mouse to shut down the computer, suddenly a slender, bluish-gray hand reached out from the screen and grabbed his wrists.

Kou gasped in horror as a small, blue-faced, fanged demon climbed out of the computer, grinning wickedly.

“Do you know? Sowing ill words brings one to the Tongue-Pulled Hell. I’m here to take you to hell.”

Kou screamed in terror, struggling wildly as another little demon crawled out and grabbed his feet.

A third demon emerged, prying open his mouth with iron tongs, clamping onto his tongue and pulling it out, stretching it long.

Then a fourth demon brandished huge scissors and snipped at the root of his tongue, blood spraying everywhere, pain flooding his mind.

But worse things followed.

The tong-holding demon pried open his mouth again, gripping his tongue and pulling it even longer.

Kou struggled desperately but to no avail, only managing terrified whimpers.

The scissor-wielding demon snapped again mercilessly.

“Look at your tongue, black and foul-smelling. How many ill words have you spoken? Hehehe.”

“As many ill words as you spoke, that many times we’ll cut. Not finished today? Tomorrow we continue. Heheh.”

“Dead or alive, in Tongue-Pulled Hell, the cutting never stops. Hehehe.”