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    Fu Chaoyun is about to get a head full of green grassland!1

    This was Pei Xuezhi’s first time acting.

    And it was for a movie, no less.

    She hadn’t come from a professional acting academy, nor did she possess any specialized, standardized acting skills. Her greatest advantages were her freshness and that face of hers.

    Therefore, Pei Xuezhi was only playing a minor supporting role in the film, the kind where all her scenes added up wouldn’t even reach five minutes.

    The reason the director dared to use a newcomer was also because the character persona2 was relatively simple, not requiring much layered performance. Plus, having a beautiful new face appear in the movie could generate discussion, which was one way to boost the film’s publicity and box office revenue.

    However, quite a bit of that freshness had already been exposed prematurely due to Pei Xuezhi’s prior appearance on the romance variety show.

    The director was slightly dissatisfied with this, feeling as though a piece of uncut jade had been clumsily chipped by an unskilled craftsman beforehand. But looking at it from another angle, the buzz from the variety show would quickly fade. By the time the movie was officially released, at least half a year would have passed. Perhaps Pei Xuezhi’s face would generate buzz then. Whether she stayed in the entertainment circle or left it, digging up old materials might stir up another small wave of popularity.

    There were pros and cons.

    Pei Xuezhi had arrived at the set two days prior to learn, observing from the sidelines for those two days. As a complete novice, she naturally wasn’t afforded the privilege of having the director explain the scenes to her beforehand; she could only figure things out herself. Today was her official start.

    Nao Nao, the little kitten who feared the heat, had already snuggled its way into the female lead’s air-conditioned RV3. Fu Chaoyun, however, was still sitting outside, enjoying the breeze from the crew’s small electric fan.

    The script was confidential.

    Although Fu Chaoyun was the financial backer4, the temporary actress Pei Xuezhi adhered strictly to professional ethics and hadn’t shown it to Fu Chaoyun.

    Only upon arriving at the set today and seeing the surrounding setup and everyone’s costumes did Fu Chaoyun realize it was a modern drama.

    Just then, Pei Xuezhi emerged, having changed her clothes and put on makeup—

    She wore a pristine white dress, her soft, smooth, long black hair cascading down. Standing there, she resembled a pure lotus flower rising from the dust, or perhaps the beautiful, cold moon in the sky. The Omega’s indifferent expression instantly captured everyone’s attention.

    At that moment, everyone understood why the director had insisted on using this newcomer.

    Just based on that face alone, once the main camera focused on her and a filter was applied, those eyes, originally cool and distant, suddenly gazed over full of tender affection—it was already worth the price of admission!5

    More importantly, Pei Xuezhi seemed to be the type who was beautiful without realizing it… No, perhaps she was aware, but compared to what was in her head, that bit of beauty seemed truly insignificant; she never paid it any mind.

    So cool and detached, like the bright moon in the sky—it only made people covet her more.

    The sweltering air seemed to freeze.

    “Tsk.” An incongruous, teasing sound came from the crowd. “White clothes, white dress. Is she playing the first love or the white moonlight? Such a cliché character setup.”

    What’s wrong with cliché?

    She’s gorgeous!

    The crowd looked over angrily, only to see that the speaker was none other than Fu Chaoyun, leaning languidly near the fan. They quickly averted their gazes again.

    Oh, it’s the financial backer. Never mind then.

    Pei Xuezhi saw Fu Chaoyun the moment she came out. Their eyes met now. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Pei Xuezhi couldn’t even mouth words, only using her eyes to signal “Don’t cause trouble.” The Alpha sitting in the shade chuckled softly. Where was the slightest hint of displeasure?

    Immediately, she retracted her gaze. Coincidentally, a staff member sitting next to her enjoying the cool air took on the role of explainer.

    “Teacher Pei is playing the role of someone who admires the male protagonist.”

    Fu Chaoyun listened with half an ear.

    “And then, she dies.”

    “…???” Fu Chaoyun paused. “What did you say?”

    Since she was the investor, there wasn’t much that couldn’t be disclosed. The staff member, whose hair was slightly thinning, continued.

    “Director Fu, this is a crime suspense drama. The male protagonist is righteous, acts magnanimously, and aspired to be a police officer since childhood. Teacher Pei plays the school beauty from the male lead’s high school days. She’s captivated by his charisma and secretly loves him. The male lead also has favorable feelings for her, but before they can confess, the school beauty dies accidentally due to campus bullying because she was too beautiful. The male lead investigates and uncovers the truth for her. This is a key plot point that solidifies the male lead’s determination to walk the path of a righteous police officer.”

    “Oh, a flashback plot device,” Fu Chaoyun said expressionlessly. “Then the story officially begins, and he gets his happy ending with his real CP, right?”

    “…”

    “Sacrificing the white moonlight is a great technique—she died, so I became stronger.”

    “…………”

    I really can’t respond to that!

    However, Fu Chaoyun didn’t forcefully interject, just saying, “Just kidding,” and turned her gaze to the set.

    It was time to film the scene between Pei Xuezhi and the male lead.

    The setting was a school campus.

    Pei Xuezhi was only 21 this year, so playing a high school student wasn’t incongruous. But the male lead acting opposite her was a well-known tough-guy Alpha actor in the industry, famous for his acting skills. Since it was a crime suspense police procedural, intense fight scenes were indispensable.

    However, it usually takes time to become a skilled actor. And stacking the ‘skilled actor’ + ‘tough guy’ buffs6 also implied he didn’t rely solely on his looks to succeed.

    Otherwise, he would have gone into idol dramas long ago. Those paid well and quickly when you were young; who would work so hard on these things!

    Besides, reality isn’t like novels or TV dramas. How could there be so many young, incredibly talented movie emperors and empresses!

    Now, this tough-guy male lead, even with makeup and younger clothes, looked somewhat strained playing a young man—at least compared to the naturally ethereal Pei Xuezhi opposite him, it was obvious they weren’t the same age.

    But once the nostalgic flashback filter was applied, and his acting skills compensated for the visual mismatch, it probably wouldn’t look too bad.

    The moment the director yelled “Action!”, Pei Xuezhi, playing the pure white moonlight, was supposed to show the shy, adoring expression of a secret admirer towards the male lead.

    The staff member beside Fu Chaoyun couldn’t help but glance at her face.

    The romance variety show had ended a month ago, and new ones had already come out, yet the Super Topic for their CP, “Chaoyun Muxue”, was still the hottest one!

    Because even though she had rejected the confession on the final night, photos of the two together kept surfacing afterward—sometimes walking the cat, sometimes grocery shopping… Full after-sales service!7

    Ambiguity is always the most alluringly suggestive.

    However, Fu Chaoyun just watched, her amber eyes focused and serious, showing no dissatisfaction that her beloved was casting adoring gazes at another person.

    Even knowing it was acting.

    Could it be they’re just playing around? Are these two actually not that close?

    That person thought.

    Then came the calls of “Cut!” one after another. The director couldn’t hold back anymore. “Pei Xuezhi, it’s just a look of secret admiration! Isn’t that simple? Isn’t it simple? How many more takes are you going to need!”

    When saying “simple,” the director even demonstrated twice himself. His expression was indeed spot-on, but he was getting on in years, and the look was extremely mismatched with his face.

    The usually excellent Pei Xuezhi tasted criticism for the first time. She lowered her head slightly, knowing she hadn’t done well. “Sorry.”

    “Just put yourself in the mindset of someone you like! Didn’t you ever like someone in school but didn’t dare confess?!”

    “No.”

    Pei Xuezhi stated.

    During high school, she was always busy studying. Even though she often received love letters from classmates or even students from the neighboring school, she never glanced at them. She had never experienced this kind of secret, restrained crush.

    But just as this thought flashed through her mind, some blurry images suddenly appeared in her head.

    It was a younger version of herself, probably high school age, living somewhere that wasn’t her own home—perhaps she was living under someone else’s roof?

    Opposite her was an even younger but more flamboyant Fu Chaoyun. Those clear amber eyes would occasionally glance over. She seemed oblivious, and their relationship was just the most ordinary kind, yet a single look made the “Pei Xuezhi” in the image’s heart pound.

    It seemed like admiration, deeply hidden… just as the director described, sweet with a hint of bitterness. Pei Xuezhi seemed to grasp something, yet perhaps grasped nothing at all. But overriding those hazy, beautiful feelings was a domineering desire to possess, completely washing them away!

    That person knows nothing, but it doesn’t matter, I can use this opportunity…


    The image abruptly stopped.

    “Go take a break. We’ll shoot this scene later.” Fu Chaoyun was here, so the director couldn’t be too harsh on this one.

    Fu Chaoyun finally moved.

    She first walked over to Pei Xuezhi, bossily unplugged the small electric fan from the table, and placed her warm palm on Pei Xuezhi’s head, ruffling her hair gently.

    Pei Xuezhi’s cool and pure goddess image was slightly disrupted.

    “Don’t worry.”

    Fu Chaoyun’s voice came through.

    When Pei Xuezhi looked up, her eyes were deep. The Alpha was still smiling. This scene was strikingly similar to the image that had flashed through her mind earlier, only the young Fu Chaoyun had become her grown-up self.

    For a moment, reality and illusion intertwined. It was as if the “Fu Chaoyun” in the vision had rapidly grown into her adult form, or perhaps it was the Fu Chaoyun before her who had just smiled.

    Pei Xuezhi just stared blankly at her, not speaking, her gaze profound, as if wanting to sear the person into the depths of her eyes.

    “Cool off.” Fu Chaoyun assumed she was feeling down after being criticized by the director. She handed the commandeered mini-fan to Pei Xuezhi, then ruffled the Omega’s head again, just like she usually petted the cat.

    “This is your first time acting, there are bound to be areas for improvement. I’ll go talk to the director.”

    Pei Xuezhi looked up.

    Her dark eyes seemed to traverse past and future, overlapping with the vision, and finally landed on Fu Chaoyun, carrying a hint of that “secret admiration” emotion.

    “Wow! Isn’t this great?!” Fu Chaoyun was also slightly surprised. She stared for a moment, then gently pressed Pei Xuezhi’s head down, simultaneously blocking the view of others around them. She crouched down herself and whispered.

    “But Zhizhi is mine. I won’t let them see.”

    So she was jealous after all.

    That single sentence snapped Pei Xuezhi out of the hazy illusion. She smiled, retracting her earlier “performance,” and thought about what Fu Chaoyun had said about finding the director.

    “Hmm…? So, Jiejie is going to change the script for me now? Does this count as bringing capital into the production team?”

    “Nope.”

    Fu Chaoyun looked at her. “Didn’t bring capital, brought a person. Oh, and a kid. It’s not just about changing the script.”

    “?”

    Perhaps Pei Xuezhi’s slightly stunned expression was just too amusing right now, especially paired with this outfit—Fu Chaoyun had thought it cliché earlier because she was acting, wearing this for another Alpha to see. But seeing it herself…

    A pure high school beauty—it totally hit her preferences8!

    “There’s adding scenes too,” Fu Chaoyun mused, then added, “Aren’t you going to hurry up and call me Godmother?”9

    Since “godfathers” have always existed in the entertainment industry, it wouldn’t be too much for her to be a godmother… right?

    Pei Xuezhi pushed her away slightly. “Stop messing around.”

    Then Fu Chaoyun ruffled her head again. It was clearly summer, but the warmth from her palm felt too soft, too real. She didn’t want to avoid it.


    The director was explaining the scene to the male lead when he saw Fu Chaoyun approaching and instinctively felt trouble brewing.

    Having directed for many years, he knew best how these investors, who usually knew nothing10, loved to nitpick the script for the sake of the person they’d inserted into the cast.

    He was already preparing to haggle over adding a couple more shots, but Fu Chaoyun opened with, “Director Min11, don’t you think the part where the school beauty pursues the male protagonist is a bit ridiculous?”

    Director: “…”

    The male lead, who was about to leave: “…”

    The staff member who had stealthily come over to ask for the fan back: “…”

    The latter two stopped in their tracks.

    Although the director had accepted the investment, he still had standards for his film. He was a bit annoyed but not yet at the point of confrontation. He also somewhat wanted to test this young investor, still speaking in a negotiating tone.

    “How so?”

    “Look at his face.”

    Fu Chaoyun pointed at the male lead first.

    “And then look at that face over there.”

    She pointed towards Pei Xuezhi.

    Finally, she said seriously.

    “Shouldn’t it be the other way around to make more sense?”

    Male lead: “…”

    You can’t attack my age like this! This is a personal vendetta!!

    What was most infuriating was that the director, and even that staff member beside him who seemed to have some standing, also fell silent, looking back and forth between the two actors.

    Seems like there’s some truth to that, huh?

    But this meant changing the script. The director put on a stern face. “Does Director Fu have some brilliant insight?”

    “I think the character persona needs to be changed.” Fu Chaoyun was inherently unrestrained, saying whatever came to mind. “For example, the obsequious admirer12 who never gets the goddess, remaining a white moonlight forever…”

    The staff member beside them frowned immediately, reacting even more strongly than the director to the mention of changing the script.

    “Then what’s the point of this first love/white moonlight character existing?”

    “A clue.”

    Fu Chaoyun answered without thinking. “She’s the person the male lead desired but couldn’t obtain. Later, she dies suddenly. Even after the truth is revealed, the male lead remains obsessed. Then, when the male lead grows up and officially becomes a police officer, another case occurs that turns out to be connected to the white moonlight who died years ago…”

    “Are you saying she should be woven into the plot’s development, reusing the character? That adds way too many scenes for this role, and the character persona changes significantly from the beginning.”

    After all, in the original script, the white moonlight was just a white moonlight, serving as a trigger for the male lead to embark on his quest for justice. Now, with Fu Chaoyun’s suggestion, this originally simple character instantly became complex.

    For some reason, Fu Chaoyun had recently watched quite a few idol dramas. The tropes were consistent, the formulas simplistic. She eventually got bored and switched to other genres. She’d watched a bit of the police procedural/suspense genre because the props and atmosphere were decent.

    Ahem.

    Perhaps because she’d already had a round of this at the company before coming here, she was quite adept13. Fu Chaoyun spoke fluently and confidently.

    “I haven’t read the full script yet, but based on the information known so far, this film is about a righteous male lead solving a cold case, and falling in love during the investigation. Since the first love/white moonlight has already been sacrificed earlier, the subsequent female lead probably doesn’t need to die. A perfect HE, comparable to a New Year’s family reunion movie.”

    “So—”

    Fu Chaoyun’s gaze suddenly fixed, looking over with a deep, soul-piercing intensity. “What’s the selling point of this film? What distinguishes it from past films of the same type, and what reason will compel audiences to walk into the cinema and pay for a ticket?”

    Her question was met with silence.

    Fu Chaoyun chuckled lightly. “Surely it can’t rely solely on the fans of the actors and director? Our Zhizhi is a newcomer, she can’t bear that responsibility.”

    “We have professional choreographers for the fight scenes, there’s an airport explosion scene, car chases, rooftop pursuits… definitely big-budget scenes. Besides, the love line…”

    Fu Chaoyun shook her head before the other could finish. “Off track.”

    “If you want fight scenes and big car chases, watch an action blockbuster. If you want romance, watch a romance film… But isn’t this supposed to be suspense and crime? Those are the selling points. It’s not like just throwing everything into the pot while cooking will make it delicious14.”

    The slightly balding staff member seemed unconvinced and recounted the script’s synopsis to Fu Chaoyun, emphasizing the scale, mystery, and thrill of the case.

    “But isn’t your entire narrative linear? Then at the very end, the white moonlight shows up again? Oh, Zhizhi’s face is indeed very striking, but why? Is the dead white moonlight blessing the current male and female leads together supposed to be super sweet?”

    The trio: “…”

    Fu Chaoyun usually appeared lazy and idle, like a salted fish, but when she was serious and had a goal, her clarity of thought and viciousness of tongue became apparent.

    “How about this.”

    All three were stunned by her. The moment Fu Chaoyun spoke, their gazes locked onto her, as if they were zombies wanting to immediately dig open her head and see what was inside—for an instant, Fu Chaoyun felt like she was back in the variety show department’s meeting room.

    “Reverse the white moonlight’s persona. Still connect the case years later to the white moonlight, but link it to an even older cold case, maybe a silencing kill? The white moonlight’s entire family died, only she survived, but she gets killed later too. Just when the truth is revealed and the male lead thinks he’s avenged her, reveal that this was all the white moonlight’s scheme.”

    “The white moonlight appears entirely in the male lead’s memories; she’s already dead during the main storyline’s progression. So, no need for deep reveals, just provide some details, maybe a look, a smile, or something that contradicts the memories. The point is to make the audience realize something is wrong.”

    “Let them see she was using the male lead all along, that her death was intentional, that she was actually avenging herself, and the male lead was just her tool—a tool to be used even after her death.”

    “From extreme beauty to extreme evil after the truth is revealed. You could even add a plot point where the white moonlight tries to kill the enemy’s child, maybe throwing them into a river to drown. But then the child appears on the bank, clothes wet but alive, and the white moonlight is gone. Use suggestive narration—did the white moonlight save them, or was the child just lucky? Let the audience guess. Blurring the lines between truth and falsehood, good and evil, that’s what generates buzz.”

    “Oh, right, the white moonlight’s plan isn’t flawless, but the male lead is her devoted admirer15, plus she died early, she’s gone. In his memories, everything is beautified by his recollection, not entirely real. The camera can leave some clues here, letting the audience slowly ponder things that become terrifying upon reflection16—this increases online discussion.”

    “Discussion creates buzz, buzz creates box office revenue. And when people finish the movie the first time, shocked and chilled by the ending, they’ll reconsider everything—did the white moonlight actually like the male lead? Was she truly purely evil? Thinking about these things, they’ll want to buy tickets to watch it again, catch the details. Then they’ll bring friends for a second or third viewing. Won’t the box office revenue roll in then?”

    After Fu Chaoyun finished her speech, she felt thirsty. She twisted open a new bottle of mineral water from the side and took several large gulps. Looking over, the three were still in a daze.

    ?

    The director was the first to react. He tugged at the relatively young but balding staff member. “Xiao Wang, do you think this change can work?”

    That staff member’s eyes were already shining as he looked at Fu Chaoyun. He gripped the director’s hand, a young man trembling even more violently than the director who was twenty years his senior!

    “It can! Why wouldn’t it! It absolutely can!!”

    “This is our screenwriter,” the male lead, soon to be the “obsequious admirer,” timely introduced from the side.

    Only then did Fu Chaoyun realize. She glanced at his head—no wonder it was so bald. She gave a slight nod.

    “Hello.”

    The screenwriter was still caught up in his excitement. “This change is so much better than the original! I’ll go revise it right away. One week… no, I’ll pull all-nighters17, I’ll grind out the draft of the new script in three days!”

    Fu Chaoyun couldn’t quite empathize with his excitement and fervor. She just looked at his balding head.

    “No need to grind that hard.” She turned back to the director. “If you think this new script is viable, Xingdong can increase the investment during the production halt for script revisions, ensuring project losses are minimized.”

    Actually, the script just needed a couple of twists added; most of the original case could still be used and filmed as planned. But what director would complain about too little investment? He immediately beamed. “No problem.”

    Fu Chaoyun nodded again, adding, “Since the money is sufficient, why not also arrange a dressing room for the supporting actors? It’s so hot in the summer, they can enjoy some air conditioning when not filming. I can also use it to cool off when I visit.”

    “…”

    So that’s what she was getting at! It was still for that person!!

    The director thought to himself that he’d definitely have to be more courteous to Pei Xuezhi on set from now on. This one had powerful backing, clearly just dabbling18 in the entertainment industry, and now someone was even paying to change the script for her…

    The director wasn’t particularly principled and agreed immediately.

    The screenwriter, however, felt as if he’d found a priceless treasure. Right there under the hot sun, without his laptop, he’d already grabbed pen and paper and was jotting down details.

    “Director Fu, how did you come up with such a brilliant script idea! Why don’t you become a screenwriter in the future!” He praised her while writing, showering her with compliments19 as if they cost nothing.

    Brilliant?

    Fu Chaoyun felt it was just like her meeting at the variety show department; she followed the train of thought, and the result came naturally.

    She waved her hand, indicating she had other things to do and had full confidence in the crew’s screenwriter; she would leave everything to him now.

    The bald young man was full of motivation and asked again, “If I want to become like you, where should I start?”

    Fu Chaoyun patted his shoulder. “Read more webnovels.”

    The imagination20 in webnovels is vast; they can write about anything!


    Fu Chaoyun had changed the script, so all of Pei Xuezhi’s scenes needed to be revised. There was no need for her to film today.

    【I get it now!】

    【You did it on purpose!】

    The System muttered, 【You didn’t want Pei Xuezhi looking at someone else with admiration, not even for acting, so you changed it completely!】

    Fu Chaoyun didn’t deny it.

    【Petty!】

    After a while, seeing Fu Chaoyun wasn’t responding, the System, which had been holding back for a long time, couldn’t resist speaking again.

    【You’re way too good to Pei Xuezhi! You two aren’t even together yet, you don’t even have official status! Can’t you have a little more self-respect?!】

    【Why do you get played every time…】

    Every time.

    The System’s words stopped.

    Although it sounded slightly more natural this time, it was still somewhat abrupt. Fu Chaoyun, however, acted as if she hadn’t heard the last sentence and even retorted, “Weren’t you the one who gave me missions before, telling me to be good to Pei Xuezhi?”

    【That was—】

    The System’s voice rose for a moment then lowered again, 【Forget it. Anyway, she’s the Heaven’s Mandate, blessed with abundant luck. It’s probably not a bad thing for you to stick close to her.】

    “Mn.”

    Fu Chaoyun bid farewell to the director’s trio and walked back. Her original spot was empty; Pei Xuezhi was gone.

    Scanning the surroundings, she saw Nao Nao being held by another young, pretty girl in front of a black RV. The cat wasn’t struggling or making noise and was eventually handed back to Pei Xuezhi.

    During the handover, one leaned forward, the other bent down. From Fu Chaoyun’s angle, it looked… it looked like the two were pressed together in an embrace.

    Fu Chaoyun’s steps faltered slightly, her beautiful eyes narrowing, flashing with a hint of danger.

    Before she could say anything, the System panicked first.

    【I told you back then not to play with that cuckolding/cheating trope! See, look what happened now! Your head really is turning into a green grassland!】

    The System was deeply grieved and distressed21, wailing loudly.

    【Even the cub you raised is going to call someone else Mom!】

    “Shut up.”

    Fu Chaoyun rarely used such a stern tone with the System. Over there, the cat landed in Pei Xuezhi’s arms and meowed, but its gaze remained fixed on the other girl.

    Fu Chaoyun stopped where she was.

    “Zhizhi,” she called out.

    Her voice carried over. Pei Xuezhi, the other girl, and Nao Nao all turned around together.

    Under the sunlight, the Alpha smiled gently, her amber eyes bright as if laced with honey. But perhaps because of the shadow falling beside her, enveloping her slightly, it seemed to ooze points of thick, unmelting chill.

    Only her voice remained soft and gentle, coaxing, almost like a plea.

    “Zhizhi, come back.”

    It was “come back,” not “come over.”


    The author has something to say:

    Writing has been getting increasingly difficult lately. A single chapter takes me from morning till night to grind out. Have I already written most of the sweet interactions? We must push the plot forward at this stage _(:з”∠)_

    Goodnight everyone w



    Footnotes

    1. 青青草原 | qīngqīng cǎoyuán | Lit. “green green grassland”; A popular internet meme/metaphor for being cuckolded, referencing the idea of a “green hat” (绿帽 | lǜmào) which symbolizes infidelity.
    2. 人设 | rénshè | Short for 人物设定 (rénwù shèdìng); character setting/design/persona, often used in entertainment and fandom contexts.
    3. 保姆车 | bǎomǔ chē | Lit. “nanny car”; Refers to large, comfortable vans or RVs often used by celebrities for transport and rest.
    4. 金主爸爸 | jīnzhǔ bàba | Lit. “gold master daddy”.
    5. 值回票价 | zhí huí piàojià | Lit. “worth the return ticket price”.
    6. 叠BUFF | dié BUFF | Lit. “stacking buffs”; Gaming term used metaphorically to mean having multiple positive attributes or advantages.
    7. 售后 | shòuhòu | Lit. “after-sales service”; Used humorously here to mean continued interactions or “fan service” after a show ends.
    8. XP | Stands for ‘Xìng Pǐ Hào’ (性癖好) meaning sexual preferences or kinks; used more broadly in internet slang for strong preferences or things one finds particularly appealing.
    9. 干妈 | gānmā | Godmother. Fu Chaoyun is likely referencing the concept of a “干爹 | gāndiē | Godfather,” which in entertainment circles can sometimes imply a sugar daddy/patron relationship, and playfully twisting it.
    10. 屁都不懂 | pì dōu bù dǒng | Lit. “don’t even understand farts”; Vulgar slang meaning completely clueless or ignorant.
    11. 闵 | Mǐn | Surname.
    12. 舔狗 | tiǎngǒu | Lit. “licking dog”.
    13. 驾轻就熟 | jià qīng jiù shú | Lit. “drive a light carriage on a familiar road”; To do something familiar with ease.
    14. 一股脑 | yī gǔ nǎo | Lit. “one whole brain”; All at once, completely, without careful consideration.
    15. Original: 舔狗 | tiǎngǒu | Lit. “licking dog”.
    16. 细思恐极 | xì sī kǒng jí | Internet slang meaning “the more you think about it, the more terrifying it becomes.”
    17. 爆肝 | bàogān | Lit. “explode the liver”; Internet slang for pulling an all-nighter or working extremely hard.
    18. 玩个票 | wán ge piào | Lit. “play a ticket”; Originally from Beijing Opera, meaning an amateur performing for fun.
    19. 彩虹屁 | cǎihóng pì | Lit. “rainbow fart”; Internet slang for excessive, flattering compliments.
    20. 脑洞 | nǎodòng | Lit. “brain hole”; Internet slang for wild imagination, creative ideas, or unconventional thinking.
    21. 痛心疾首 | tòng xīn jí shǒu | Lit. “heart aches, head sick”; Deeply grieved and distressed.

    1 Comment

    1. Monsi
      Apr 17, '25 at 7:57 AM

      I want to learn how to think like that, damn…

    Note