Yan Qi was completely caught off guard by Ma Fangfang’s question, her face briefly flashing with surprise. But she quickly composed herself and asked through the phone:
“Why do you suddenly want to be my friend?”
Ma Fangfang blinked eagerly and answered without hesitation:
“Because I think being your friend would be amazing! And come on—how cool would it be to say I’m friends with a sentient virtual diva?”
Watching Ma Fangfang’s excited expression and hearing her reply, Yan Qi was momentarily stunned before finally responding:
“Well… yeah, I guess being friends with a sentient virtual diva is pretty cool.”
“I knew you’d agree!” Ma Fangfang beamed, her voice tinged with nervous anticipation as she stared at the pixelated avatar on her phone. “So… what’s your answer?”
Yan Qi’s first instinct was to refuse. But seeing Ma Fangfang’s hopeful expression through the camera, she hesitated.
After a moment of thought, she reasoned: This airheaded loli is gullible, easy to trick, and harmless. Being friends with her costs me nothing.
So she answered:
“Fine. If you really want to be friends, then sure.”
Ma Fangfang’s face lit up with unrestrained joy. She started bouncing around, completely forgetting her father was still standing nearby. Only after her excitement settled slightly did she turn back to the camera and say:
“Thank you, Miss Virtual Diva! I—wait, am I dreaming right now?”
“If you’re not sure, try pinching your thigh.”
“Pinch my thigh? Okay—ow! Okay, definitely not dreaming! This is so awesome!”
“Calm down. Your dad’s still watching, you know,” Yan Qi reminded her dryly.
Ma Fangfang froze mid-celebration, suddenly remembering her father’s presence. She shot him an awkward grin, to which Ma Hongxin simply chuckled and nodded in understanding.
Reassured, Ma Fangfang took a deep breath and asked:
“Um, Miss Virtual Diva… do you have a name?”
“Of course I do.”
“Can you tell me? Since we’re friends now!”
Not wanting to reveal her real identity, Yan Qi decided to share the alias she’d given her virtual diva persona:
“It’s Jizige. Ji as in ‘diva,’ zi as in the zi from Zi Bu Yu, and ge as in ‘song.’ Got it?”
“Jizige… Jizige… Yep, I’ll remember it! I swear I’ll never forget your name!” Ma Fangfang declared solemnly after repeating it several times.
“You remembering is enough. No need for dramatic oaths.”
“No, no, it’s totally necessary! How else can I prove how serious I am?”
“You’re hopeless,” Yan Qi sighed.
Then, realizing how late it was, she added:
“Anyway, it’s almost midnight. I should get going.”
“Already? Can’t you stay a little longer?” Ma Fangfang whined.
“It’s late, and you should be asleep. Besides, I’ve got things to do. I’ll chat with you another time when I’m free.”
“Okay… but how do I contact you after you leave?”
“I’ll leave a custom chat app on your phone. You can use that to message me.”
“Wait, you can code too?”
“I know way more than you think,” Yan Qi replied with a smirk.
Then, remembering the supernatural ordeal Ma Hongxin had endured for over a month, she turned serious:
“Mr. Ma, what happened to you involved supernatural forces. After I leave, make sure to report it to Shanghai’s Abnormal Affairs Bureau. They’ll protect you and Fangfang while investigating.”
Hearing her address him directly, Ma Hongxin mustered the courage to reply:
“Understood. I’ll file a report with the Bureau right away.”
“Good. Then I’ll take my leave. See you.”
“Bye, Jizige!”
“Goodbye, Miss Virtual Diva.”
After bidding farewell to the father-daughter pair, Yan Qi withdrew from their home’s network. In moments, she traversed the internet and returned to her own residence—thousands of miles away.
Reverting from her virtual diva form back into her usual white-haired, red-eyed loli self, Yan Qi immediately felt the fatigue from maintaining her transformation. Her limbs ached as she eyed her soft, inviting bed.
I’ll deal with the cultivation manual tomorrow…
Without another thought, she collapsed onto the mattress, sinking into a deep slumber almost instantly.
The next morning (Wednesday)
Yan Qi woke up on time, fully recovered from the events of two days prior.
She instinctively reached for her phone—only to remember it had been destroyed during the terrorist attack.
“Ugh. Not having a phone is so inconvenient,” she grumbled. “Guess I’ll need to earn some money and buy a new one.”
With that thought, she dragged herself out of bed.