The 24-hour countdown ticked like a bomb implanted in his heart, each beat a tearing pain. Lin Chen huddled in a corner of the apartment, the morning light casting a long, distorted shadow, mirroring his shattered spirit.
To surrender? To admit to those fabricated charges, to sign a debt agreement akin to a contract of servitude, in exchange for his father's temporary safety? The thought made his stomach churn. That wasn't just self-destruction, but a desecration of the truth, a utter betrayal of his musical dreams. He could almost see Lu Tianyu behind the scenes, a cruel, victorious smile.
To resist? With what could he resist? He didn't even know where his father was being held. To call the police? Since the other side dared to be so blatant, they must be emboldened, and perhaps even the police themselves… He dared not think further. To contact Su Yuqing? Too far away to help in an immediate crisis; if Xingyao discovered this, his father might be in grave danger.
He was like a young animal trapped in an iron cage, knowing full well that a precipice lay beyond, yet unable to find any way out.
In despair, clinging to the last glimmer of hope, he began scrolling through his phone, searching for contacts he might once call "friends."
He first called A-Jie, the buddy who had vented and encouraged him during training camp. The phone rang for a long time before being answered; the background noise was deafening, like being on a noisy film set.
"Hello? Who is this?" A-Jie's voice was distant and impatient.
"A-Jie, it's me, Lin Chen." His voice was hoarse.
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, then A-Jie's tone became extremely unnatural: "Oh... Lin Chen. What's wrong? I'm busy right now."
"A-Jie, I'm in trouble, very serious trouble, my father..."
"Lin Chen!" A-Jie abruptly interrupted him, his voice low, urgent, and warning, "I've heard about your situation. I... I sympathize, but I can't help you! I finally got a role, and my agent said I can't have anything to do with you! You... take care of yourself!"
With that, before Lin Chen could respond, the call was abruptly ended, leaving only a busy tone.
Lin Chen held his phone, his fingertips icy cold. He should have expected this. In this industry, it's easy to add flowers to brocade, but difficult to offer charcoal in the snow. Especially since he was now a "plague" everyone avoided.
He wasn't giving up, and tried contacting two other contestants with whom he had a relatively good relationship during the competition. The result was the same. They either hung up abruptly or subtly indicated they couldn't help, their tone clearly revealing avoidance and fear.
He even thought of the female contestant he'd once saved from a drinking party. He dialed the number, and this time, the call connected.
"Hello?" the girl's voice was timid.
"It's me, Lin Chen. I'm sorry to bother you, I..."
"Lin Chen!" the girl's voice instantly trembled with fear, filled with a sob. "Please don't contact me anymore! I don't know anything! I won't say anything! The company has already warned me; if I contact you again, I'm finished! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
The call was abruptly cut off.
Lin Chen listened to the dial tone, a smile more painful than tears tugging at his lips. See, this was the result of his past act of kindness. In this vast arena of fame and fortune, self-preservation was the only rule.
He was utterly isolated. Abandoned by public opinion, abandoned by the company, abandoned by his so-called "friends."
Completely alone.
The word had never felt so concrete and cruel. It was as if the whole world had shut its doors on him, leaving only a suffocating darkness pressing down on him.