I Am Not The God Of Drama Chapter 177

[ … words ]

“Wen Shilin, male, 32 years old.”

“Reporter for Aurora Daily. During his three years of employment, he has written 184 articles, of which only 22 were successfully published…”

“No wife or children. Both parents passed away from illness five years ago. Lives alone in a 12-square-meter room in the South District. Doesn’t smoke or drink, has no bad habits or hobbies. Changes assistants frequently. Most frequented location: the hospital… The hospital?”

Chen Ling’s expression turned odd as he read the information delivered by the thugs.

Suddenly recalling Wen Shilin’s practiced defensive moves during yesterday’s beating, he understood why the man frequented hospitals… With his stubborn, reckless pursuit of the truth, his salary was probably spent entirely on treating bruises and fractures.

Hearing Chen Ling muttering to himself, Chu Muyun, sitting across from him, set down his newspaper and asked curiously, “Why are you collecting this information?”

“Looking for a new identity.”

“New identity?” Chu Muyun glanced thoughtfully at the papers in Chen Ling’s hands. “You mean… as a journalist?”

“In this city, aside from enforcers, there’s no faster way to gather intelligence than through Press Freedom Rights.” Chen Ling tossed the documents onto the table and spoke calmly. “Especially this Wen Shilin. He wrote nearly 200 articles in three years, yet only slightly over 20 were published… What kind of content must the unpublished ones contain?

Chu Muyun raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued.

“While Press Freedom Rights are effective, becoming a journalist isn’t that simple. Under the manipulation of unseen hands, journalist positions are lucrative—countless people in the city are eyeing those roles. You’ve just arrived in Aurora City with no background or credentials. How do you plan to get close to this Wen Shilin? By swapping faces?”

“No need for something so troublesome.”

Chen Ling picked up the half-rimmed glasses from the table and put them on. A faint smile curled on his young, scholarly face.

“Wen Shilin’s personality is too upright—that’s precisely one of his weaknesses. Gaining his trust is simple. All it takes is a small performance, and he’ll be of use to me.”

—

In front of the hospital.

“How much for the fruit?” Assistant A’Cheng stopped at a street vendor’s stall.

“Small basket: 20. Large basket: 50. The fancy packaged ones over there: 120.” The vendor droned without looking up.

A’Cheng frowned. His eyes swept over the exquisite fruit baskets before landing on a few unwanted, scattered apples in the corner. “What about those?”

“Those? You can have them for five copper coins.”

“I’ll take them. Wrap them up with some nice ribbons.”

The vendor shot him a sidelong glance and muttered under his breath but still packed the apples and handed them over. A’Cheng carried the fruit into the hospital behind him.

He navigated the bustling corridors with practiced ease and pushed open a ward door.

“Mr. Wen, how are you—”

Before he could finish, A’Cheng froze. The bed in the ward was empty. Just as he turned to double-check the room number, a voice drifted up from beneath the bed, “Oh, it’s you, A’Cheng… Come in.”

Wen Shilin, his body wrapped in bandages, crawled out from the cramped darkness under the bed. He quickly waved a hand. “Close the door. Hurry.”

“Huh? Oh.”

A’Cheng shut the door, cutting off the noise from the hallway, and asked in confusion, “Mr. Wen, what were you doing under the bed?”

“Too many people are targeting me lately. Can’t be too careful—how else do you think I’ve survived this long?” Wen Shilin dusted off his hands and sat back on the bed. “Besides, I’ve been feeling like someone’s been watching me recently.”

“Mr. Wen, aren’t you overthinking it? No one’s watching us.”

“No, I trust my instincts… And don’t you remember? Those missing drafts lately were too bizarre. Maybe I’ve really stumbled onto someone’s Achilles’ heel… The more critical the moment, the more cautious we must be.”

As he spoke, Wen Shilin walked up to A’Cheng. Seeing the beautifully ribboned fruit in his arms, he sighed.

“A’Cheng, you’ve spent money on me again.”

“Don’t say that. My salary is subsidized by you, Mr. Wen. Buying a fruit basket is the least I can do.” A’Cheng smiled, plucking an apple from the basket and wiping it on his sleeve before handing it over. Then he frowned.

“Didn’t notice when buying… This apple’s a bit spoiled? Wait here, Mr. Wen. I’ll go argue with that vendor.”

“It’s fine. I’m not picky.”

Wen Shilin stopped A’Cheng from turning away. “My injuries are mostly healed anyway. Let’s check out.”

“Alright.” A’Cheng nodded.

After changing, Wen Shilin followed A’Cheng out of the ward. As they reached the hospital entrance, his footsteps suddenly halted at a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision.

There, at the hospital doors, stood a familiar figure in a brown overcoat and half-rimmed glasses. He was holding a file folder, speaking earnestly to a white-coated doctor.

“Huh?” A’Cheng also spotted the man and exclaimed in surprise. “Mr. Wen, isn’t that the passerby who helped us yesterday? What a coincidence!”

Wen Shilin’s eyes lit up at the sight of Chen Ling in the distance.

After watching Chen Ling say something serious, only for the doctor to shake his head and walk away, Wen Shilin saw the lone figure stand silently at the entrance for a long moment before sighing deeply.

Seizing the opportunity, Wen Shilin stepped forward and called out, “Wait, please!”

Chen Ling paused. The black chain of his glasses swayed slightly as he turned his head, his cool, desolate eyes flickering with surprise at Wen Shilin’s approach.

“You remember me, right? We met yesterday in the outer ring of the West District.”

Chen Ling nodded slightly. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Wen Shilin, a reporter for Aurora Daily. I know this might seem abrupt, but perhaps we could sit down and talk somewhere.” Wen Shilin spoke solemnly. “Our newspaper is currently running a ‘Seeking Truth, Kindness, and Beauty’ column, regularly featuring civilians who stand up for justice…”

Noticing Chen Ling’s odd expression, Wen Shilin added, “If your act of bravery is published, I think it might make job-hunting easier for you.”

Chen Ling looked startled. “How did you know I’m job-hunting?”

“It’s written on your folder.”

Chen Ling glanced down and saw his name, contact address, and target job position indeed labeled on the file.

“Alright… But I’d prefer the interview to be quick. I might not have much time… After all, I have another hospital interview this afternoon.”

Chen Ling smiled politely.