Seeing this rash flurry of barking, Annan was crouching in front of her phone, trembling all over in anger, "This is just shameless."
Yuran was half-squinting, slightly propping up her body, her head resting on the armrest of the sofa, looking at Annan whose cheeks were flush with anger, "What now?"
"What now?" Annan looked at her indifferent expression, feeling like she was punching cotton, unable to get angry, "Her hardcore fans have started dissing you, look, look."
Yuran saw that the phone Annan pushed in front of her was full of messages dissing her, yet her expression remained unchanged.
Annan was horrified, "You’re not angry about this?"
"I saw it!" Yuran shook her phone in her hand, "I just replied to one mentioning the lyrics were written by you. After all, my feelings for Bo Yan aren’t as... obsessed as the internet suggests. They might have misunderstood my initial intention for writing this song."
"We need these misunderstandings right now." Annan’s eyes sparkled, "You stay out of the fray, let the misunderstanding be."
"No no no." Yuran heard this very dangerous thought and quickly intervened, trying to correct this girl’s inappropriate ideas, "The attention has shot up now, but it will leave a poor impression later. This mishap turned out well, and now seeing the comments, I’m regretting it."
Annan couldn’t understand; wasn’t this a great opportunity to turn things around? If Yuran knew Bo Yan and got him to retweet something from the official blog, that would really be... lovely to think about.
Yuran smiled, "Let me put it this way, even if we win this way, it won’t look very good. After all, many people will tag us as clout chasers. Of course, I considered this when I was writing the song before, but I didn’t plan for it to develop afterward.
The song has fermented too much by now... We shouldn’t just assume ’Hero’s’ popularity is something we can easily latch onto. It’s easy to get tagged, but hard to shake it off."
Annan still couldn’t grasp it, "A fool doesn’t take the advantages at hand!"
After a while, Yuran gestured for her to come closer, patting the space next to her on the sofa, "Come over here, sit here, let’s watch together."
With suspicion, Annan walked over, saying as she moved, "Weren’t you indifferent to this?"
Yuran, without shifting her gaze, pinched her phone and nodded, "Mhm, indifferent, yes. Come sit here, you see the data, and I’ll post on the official account."
"Are you planning some mischief again?"
"No no no no no, I’m just using my alternate account to hold a raffle."
Annan stared at her intently for a while, watching her delicate features flicker in the changing light, and suddenly felt that she was a complex entity, sweet yet salty, both demon and angel.
Complicated, yet somehow... cute.
Leaning over, her gaze fixed on Yuran’s phone screen, "What are you planning to do?"
[Bloodstained Battlefield Asura Sword: Come on, everyone bubble up to claim your prize. I heard there’s a bet on the official blog, I’m betting @M.YU will win the contest, with a reward of a hundred thousand, fifty luck-drawing red packets.]
Annan: "... Profligate sister, do you have money to burn? What if you fall from grace one day, how will you cope?"
"Eh, now that you mention it, that’s really..."
Annan: "... It feels like you’re just messing with me."
Yuran burst into laughter, extending her arm to wrap around Annan, "Let me tell you, I’m not worried about falling from grace, what I’m more worried about is losing!"
"It doesn’t show at all."
"I’m quite good at pretending."