Chapter Fifty-Two: Became an Internet Celebrity

Here is today’s update. By the way, I’d like to ask for your votes for the “Qidian” 515 Fans Festival—everyone has eight votes, and you’ll receive Qidian coins for voting. I humbly beg for your support and appreciation!

Boyar asked Sang Sang, who was pulling her hood down, “How does it feel to be famous?”

“Not much,” Sang Sang muttered, rolling her eyes discreetly. He obviously anticipated this situation long ago but kept quiet just to watch the drama unfold—such wicked amusement.

Boyar sighed with mild regret, “It’s a pity you revealed the truth too early. You missed the moment when, as time passed, all those bellies would flatten together—the expressions then would have been priceless.”

“This timing is perfect,” said Little Jin, poking out her small head, “If you waited until the due date, those people would want to tear Sang Sang apart. Even now, there are still some dissatisfied, steering the conversation.”

Boyar raised an eyebrow, “Who do you think is guiding the topic?”

Sang Sang pulled her hood to cover Little Jin more securely. “Even if it’s not the Lady of Flowers herself, it’s related to her. I saw quite a few acquaintances from the Wood Realm stirring things up. But does a saintess with just one seat have enough influence to control the narrative?”

Saints and saintesses are spokespersons, holding lofty status and enjoying better benefits than most high-ranking officials. They can meet bishops as equals, but their actual power is moderate. The academy’s students are all geniuses—or at least exceptionally talented in one field—each proud and ambitious, not easily swayed or influenced.

Boyar gave a mysterious smile and gently shook his head.

“Judging by the spread of news on the StarNet, there are several waves pushing the topic, and once it takes off, others keep it hot,” said Little Jin. “Senna told us not to return to the dormitory in the Forest of All Beings—it’s surrounded. Either stay with Teacher Boyar or go to Alan’s place; he’ll come for us soon. He also said you should avoid StarNet, and if you do go online, don’t let the comments affect you. They’ll handle it and won’t let your reputation truly suffer. ‘They’? Seems he’s with others.”

Sang Sang looked up and asked, “Teacher, where should we go?”

“I’ll take you to Alan’s.”

Alan’s residence was an entire small planet. Aside from him, only a few maintenance robots lived there, but outside the training zone, the place was teeming with plants and animals, many of them rare species.

Stepping out of the teleport gate, Alan was nowhere to be seen, and the little planet felt rather deserted.

Boyar left Sang Sang there, dropping off piles of snacks and fruit before leaving. Little Jin was busy with work, so Sang Sang finished the snacks and fruit before entering the cultivation chamber to digest the energy and laws she had consumed.

Sang Sang felt a bit irritated—did people from advanced civilizations really think so differently? Accusations about soul and character being vile were laughable! Anyone with refined internal energy control could easily disperse the energy cluster in their womb after a careful check, though it would cost the life energy stored in the elf seed. Even if left alone, it would naturally dissipate after forty days.

But the crux was, it dissipates after forty days.

Sang Sang realized the key point. Thankfully, she didn’t share Teacher Boyar’s mischievous taste. Now that the drama had erupted, things should calm down in a few days. There was too much news about the temple; no one would fixate on a minor candidate saintess like her for long.

“Boom—bang!” The barrier of the cultivation chamber trembled, then quickly recovered.

Annoyed, Sang Sang smoothed her messy hair. For some reason, she couldn’t calm her mind; her thoughts kept echoing those remarks about “Danqing painting being a primitive trait of the Wild Star Domain, exuding uncultured, raw vibes.”

If Teacher Qing knew that, because of her, Danqing painting was being looked down upon by advanced civilization folk, he’d surely be angry.

Her distraction severely hampered her cultivation, and she even made an unprecedented mistake with the rune formation. If she hadn’t quickly deployed her domain, she would have been blown away.

“No, Teacher wouldn’t be angry. He’d just say that painting is the soul’s expression, and other people’s opinions don’t matter. If you dislike how others look down on Danqing, use your own methods to let people see its essence, understand its meaning, and eventually someone will fall in love with it. So, should I become the ambassador for Galactic Civilization?”

Sang Sang mused aloud, sitting cross-legged. She popped a nutrient pill and checked the time—three or four days had passed. Assuming the StarNet topic had shifted, she logged in.

She donned a dragon disguise mask and entered News Star City, only to find that discussions about her hadn’t faded; they dominated two-thirds of the trending topics, with the remaining third related to the saint and saintess elections.

The top poll questioned whether Sang Hongye understood the sacred, inviolable nature of life’s propagation. Nearly half voted “does not understand,” ten percent “understands but deliberately plays with life,” and the rest chose “don’t know/not interested.”

Senna was moving too slowly!

Sang Sang frowned, then overheard a group of upperclassmen in bio-armor, seemingly fresh from the battle platform, chatting and catching her attention.

“How is the Sang Hongye topic still so hot? If you say no one’s manipulating things, you must be a protozoan.”

“Yesterday, some suspected she was self-promoting. Today, it’s escalated to personality defects, and now even the people stirring things up have vanished.”

“So annoying. Is coming from a lower civilization a crime? No one even spares the kid from their venom.”

“Come on, the saintess is the best profession in the galaxy—always a treat reserved for advanced civilizations, occasionally tossed to mid-level ones. For a lower civilization to reach for it stirs everyone’s ire.”

“That Sang Hongye is so low-profile; never posts anything on Starlight, only focuses on cultivation. Now she probably doesn’t dare go online. Such a promising young shoot about to be snuffed out…”

After they passed, Sang Sang touched her forehead, where two coral-red dragon horns grew. Combined with her squat stature, she looked just like a baby dragon, with not a trace of Sang Hongye about her. Even strangers who had only seen her in videos wouldn’t recognize her, nor would she herself in the mirror.

“Senna isn’t inactive—he’s planning to reverse things, turning negatives into positives? Targeting someone for slander, especially a child without real stains, is bound to cause backlash. When it’s time to clear her name, people will believe it more easily.”

This thought eased Sang Sang’s mood, and she wandered through the StarNet temple.

It was far livelier here than in reality, since anyone with temple contributions could enter the StarNet temple. The Starlight Road, which combined personal space with instant messaging and served as an external portal, was the most popular and fastest news hub. Many renowned interstellar merchants had set up here. Sang Sang also had a Starlight account—in fact, every temple staff member’s ID doubled as a default Starlight account. Of course, minors faced many restrictions, with fifty and thirty years as major thresholds. So Sang Sang could only browse the Starlight spaces that had been filtered by the main brain for harmony and safety, devoid of any danger. Among them, the temple’s senior staff and saintly candidates’ Starlight spaces topped the recommendation list.

PS: Sisters, don’t forget to recommend and bookmark after reading~~~

[515 is coming soon—hoping to climb the 515 Red Envelope Ranking, so on May 15, there’ll be a rain of red envelopes to reward readers and promote the work. Every little bit counts, and I’ll definitely keep updating!]