When Masks Slip and Blades Are Drawn

She said, if anyone is going to sleep with someone, it would be her sleeping with W — no one else gets to sleep with her.

That sentence received over 10,000 likes.

You have to know, her small account only had a few followers before — the kind that looked like zombie accounts at first glance.

Because of that one sentence, the account gained over ten thousand followers, and the number was still climbing.

The reason it became trending was because someone named “Unspeakable W” replied beneath it, writing: practice brings true knowledge — you only know after doing it, right?

The CP fans had been worrying about their “food supply,” but unexpectedly, W personally showed up.

Meanwhile, fans combed through the daily N posts of “Tuanzi Nuojiji,” peeling back layers, analyzing her irritable language habits, and realized they were strikingly similar to “Crab With Claws.”

Some fans even listed out evidence, trying to prove the two were the same person.

First: Crab With Claws’ livestream style leaned toward cool and aloof, like a dominant older sister, but she would occasionally lash out at brainless fans.

Especially when she saw comments filled with stereotypes and prejudice toward women, she couldn’t tolerate them.

It was clear her personality wasn’t soft or easy to bully.

Meanwhile, the Weibo blogger “Tuanzi Nuojiji” was obviously a side account.

What she posted there was most likely her truest self.

So her Weibo style was original, spicy, and scorching hot.

She liked to passionately confess her love to things she adored.

For example, she loved the classic TV drama 《新白娘子传奇》, and whenever the official account posted updates, she would go crazy and post dozens of tweets in response.

She would even write long essays under their posts expressing her love.

And if anyone spoke rudely, her combat power would instantly max out.

Similarly, when faced with bizarre social news, she never restrained her disgust.

For example, when a man claimed women were born less intelligent than men, she wrote a professional, data-backed response proving that in universities, women made up a higher percentage of the educated population.

In the end, that guy deleted his post and deactivated his account.

From this, fans concluded that the name “Tuanzi Nuojiji” perfectly matched Crab With Claws’ self-positioning.

Inside, she was soft-hearted.

But when faced with strength, she became even stronger.

Evidence two: Though they belonged to different circles, both bloggers used phrases with strong northern characteristics.

During a livestream, a dieting fan once kept asking Crab With Claws if she could eat snail noodles.

After being asked repeatedly, she said, “Do I look like snail noodles to you?”

Or, “I think you look like snail noodles.”

Meanwhile, on Tuanzi Nuojiji’s Weibo, the person she complained about most was someone she called “that damn dog.”

She said that person finished her skewers and still wanted to eat the ones in her hand.

She responded by asking, “Do I look like skewers to you?”

And, “I think you look like skewers.”

When fans got meticulous, they were practically examining her under a magnifying glass.

They even noticed Qin Huairen’s writing habits and her fondness for using ellipses to express speechlessness.

Of course, the most suspicious part was that their personal signatures were extremely similar.

Crab With Claws’ signature: “Travel across a thousand years, befriend history.”

Tuanzi Nuojiji’s signature: “Cross a thousand years, let art encounter history.”

…

The evidence went on for pages, like a list of Qin Huairen’s crimes.

Qin Huairen felt a chill run down her spine after reading it.

She only knew fans liked her, so they paid attention to her.

When she wasn’t busy, she would also follow updates of New White daily and leave comments, but she was nowhere near this “meticulous.”

All the evidence pointed to one conclusion: Crab With Claws and Tuanzi Nuojiji were the same person.

As for the W mentioned by Crab With Claws, some fans boldly speculated that it was the “damn dog” frequently mentioned on Tuanzi Nuojiji’s Weibo.

The scariest part was — they were absolutely right.

Qin Huairen was numb.

She regretted leaving that comment last night.

Between her and W, there was no such thing as who slept with whom.

Why had she competed over that?

Now things were great — her side account had been exposed.

With the fans’ detective skills, what worried her even more was her unfiltered speech on that account.

What if she had accidentally revealed blurred identity or location information?

What if fans found her real self?

Qin Huairen took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

She immediately decided to delete last night’s comment and hide all posts from her side account.

As for the cultural relics account, she temporarily planned to do nothing.

But just as she was about to delete the post, a thought popped into her mind.

If she deleted that comment now and hid her side account posts, wouldn’t that be indirectly admitting the guess was right?

Fans would definitely say she had a guilty conscience.

If she didn’t delete it?

What if the side account hadn’t exposed any key address information?

Early in the morning, Qin Huairen sat up on her bed, lay down, knelt up…

It took her an hour and a half to scroll through every single post on her side account.

Thankfully, due to her sensitivity and her unacknowledged inferiority complex, she had never revealed any key address or personal details.

Occasionally she mentioned place names, but they were vague.

She had mentioned food names, but that wasn’t a big issue.

What even she wanted to complain about was how talkative she truly was.

She tossed her phone aside, buried herself face-down on the bed, and muttered, “Were you mute in your previous life? Is that why you have so much to say in this one?”

Not satisfied with scolding herself, she even pointed at her reflection and asked, “Is your mouth rented? Are you in a hurry to return it? How do you manage to post dozens of Weibo updates in an hour? Are you a spider spirit? Typing with eight legs at once?”

In the end, Qin Huairen chose the old method — no response, no self-proof trap.

She clicked into W’s homepage.

W’s followers were increasing even faster than hers.

The latest post, sent early in the morning, read: Hello everyone, I am W.

Qin Huairen scoffed.

Was this person crazy?

Did she even know who W was, daring to impersonate like that?

If Qin Huairen hadn’t chosen to let things go peacefully, she would have gone online to teach this person that you can’t eat rice randomly, and you can’t speak nonsense either.

She muttered to herself, warning that if they crossed her bottom line, even the King of Heaven wouldn’t stop her from meeting them face to face.

What made her even angrier was that this shameless W even privately messaged her, praising her for being cute and asking her to update more often.

“I spit on you,” Qin Huairen grumbled.

If it weren’t for you suddenly appearing, would I have had such a heart-stopping morning?

W also wrote that since she loved hotpot, and W loved hotpot too, maybe they could eat together sometime.

Qin Huairen spat again while brushing her teeth, mumbling, “Who wants to eat hotpot with you? I think you look like hotpot…”

The next second she realized her habitual phrasing.

Damn it, she really had to change it.

Before even starting work, her mood had already gone through storms.

Meanwhile, Wen Yuzhi’s emotional barometer had shifted from cloudy yesterday to sunny this morning.

As an observer, Yan Qing could clearly feel the difference.

In previous years, before the first big meeting of the year, President Wen would look stern, low pressure radiating from her.

The whole company knew — unless it was urgent, don’t approach President Wen at this time.

But today, as the annual meeting approached, Yan Qing’s nerves were tense, yet Wen Yuzhi remained calm, slowly flipping through departmental reports, marking areas for improvement.

“President Wen, they’re all here,” Yan Qing said, referring to the company elders who always came to observe and assert their importance.

Wen Yuzhi responded with a simple hum but didn’t move.

Her pen spun like a tiny whirlwind between her fingers.

Was President Wen in such a good mood?

After a sleepless night and facing scrutiny from the old guards, where was the tense and battle-ready Wen Yuzhi?

Yan Qing was puzzled.

The meeting began differently than ever before.

Instead of letting department heads summarize and restate their plans, Wen Yuzhi closed the door and told Yan Qing to return their reports directly.

“Since I’ve already read the reports, there’s no need to waste time repeating them,” she said lightly.

The leaders were surprised, but more than that, delighted.

Then her tone shifted.

She pointed out overlapping marketing plans with another company and demanded changes.

She reminded the finance department they had omitted depreciation calculations for the Xishan factory — something she had mentioned at last year’s dinner.

Her memory was astonishing.

When the finance department admitted they couldn’t recover old debts from Xishan Factory because the leadership kept dodging them, Wen Yuzhi said casually, “Go again. Tell them if they can’t solve it themselves, I’ll personally go solve it.”

She didn’t hide her sharpness.

She even said with a faint smile that since people said she had a bad temper and little patience, they weren’t wrong.

So whoever went to collect debts should pass along a message: the cost of making her wait would be unbearable.

Though sunlight poured into the meeting room, there wasn’t a trace of warmth.

Later, when the elders began criticizing her frequent trending topics and saying her personal behavior harmed the company image, Wen Yuzhi stood up calmly.

“If the uncles have finished speaking, allow me to say a few words too.”

She proceeded to recount their “glorious deeds,” exposing hidden corruption and ill-gotten wealth.

One by one, she forced them into silence.

“If anyone hopes you’ll stand against me,” she told one elder, “I don’t ask you to stand with me. Just remain neutral.”

In the end, no one dared to talk nonsense again.

She warned them the conversation was recorded.

If anyone broke their promise, she wouldn’t go easy.

After the meeting, Yan Qing complained about the old men biting the hand that fed them.

Wen Yuzhi sighed lightly and replied, “If necessary, we break the elbow. Then it can’t turn outward.”

Back in her office, she checked her phone.

Qin Huairen had messaged her about whether the violin matter they discussed last night still counted.

Wen Yuzhi called back.

At noon, Qin Huairen finally replied with a question mark.

They spoke on the phone.

Wen Yuzhi teased her gently.

Qin Huairen kept drawing boundaries, as if reminding both Wen Yuzhi and herself.

When Wen Yuzhi said she had one condition regarding Xu Jianing, Qin Huairen blurted out, “Are you crazy? I think you look like a condition, I—”

She stopped herself, realizing her speech habit again.

Wen Yuzhi laughed openly.

“Don’t laugh!”

“I didn’t.”

“I heard you!”

“Sorry. I’ll laugh more quietly next time.”

Qin Huairen fumed.

Wen Yuzhi explained her request — that whatever happened between her and Xu Jianing, Qin Huairen shouldn’t interfere.

Qin Huairen argued.

Wen Yuzhi gently reminded her not to take all responsibility onto herself.

“Then let me say something,” Wen Yuzhi said without giving her time to refuse.

“Qin Huairen, I love you.”

Qin Huairen’s brain crashed instantly.