Facade of Love

The entire article's content was an analysis from various angles of the incidents at the scenic area. It was evident that Idris was being targeted. One incident might be accidental, but when two incidents occured in the sarea simultaneously, sparking heated discussions, it was enough to prove there was a problem. Moreover, the forest attractions had been open for decades, and there had never been any issues with its internal equipment before. Suddenly, two incidents happened on the sday. It was not a mere coincidence. Seven accused Young Corporation of manipulating everything, including planning people's deaths. If it was indeed Idris, why could the not police find any evidence? Even if the Youngs had great influence, could they really cover everything up, including the people brought in for investigations? The article also criticized netizens for blindly following trends without thinking critically.

The article was lengthy, and almost every word was in defense of Idris and the Youngs. After reading the manuscript, | glanced at the comments. As | expected, the comments were overwhelmingly negative, with many readers believing that the article was ghostwritten by the Youngs to improve their image.

| furrowed my brow. Idris had no interest in orchestrating such a response, and he did not care about what people said online. This article could not have been arranged for by him.

| checked the author's nat the end of the article, and it was a pen name—Firefly.

Closing my phone, | sent a message to Idris, asking: [Are you done with your work?] Given the current situation, | didn't expect an immediate reply. But to my surprise, he responded shortly after, asking: [Yeah. Are you resting?] I replied: [No.] | had intended to wait for his response and ask him about the article, but before | could do that, the doorbell rang.

| got up to answer the door and was taken aback to see a tall figure standing outside. | could not help but ask, "Are you done with your work?" Idris raised an eyebrow, his handsface bearing a hint of nonchalance. "Work is never-ending. Keepcompany and have sfood." With that, he held up a bag with takeout containers.

I was still suspecting him of being up to something, but he had already entered the room through the crack in the door. He walked to the sofa, sat down, and took out the takeout containers, which contained shomecooked food.

| was slightly surprised that he hadn't eaten yet at this hour. Concerned, | sat down beside him and asked, "Has there been any progress with the case?" He nodded and made a sound of affirmation. Then, he handeda container of noodles and a pair of utensils. | did not have much of an appetite at this hour, but | did not want to dampen his spirits, so | accepted the food.

We ate in silence for a while, and when he had finished most of his meal, | finally broached the topic. "Did you call for that online article that supports your side of the story?" He shook his head. Just as he did so, his phone rang. It was Encalling, and Idris did not try to hide my presence as he answered it. From the other end of the line, Ensio's voice cthrough, "Mr. Young, the author of that article is named Alice Cruz, and she's a reporter from the Daily Express. As far as | know, she has no connection to the Youngs, but she does seem to have sties with Mrs. Young's family. She appears to be quite close to Mrs. Young's mother." Upon hearing Ensio's voice, | immediately reacted. Alice?! Idris responded with a sound of acknowledgment on the phone, then hung up. His dark eyes were fixed on me, and he smirked, "Afraid | couldn't handle the public pressure, so you helpedout?" | shook my head and looked at him, saying, "I didn't ask Alice to write that article." He raised an eyebrow. There was a playful expression on his face. "I know, I'm just teasing you." | was left speechless, not knowing what to say.

He leaned back on the sofa, his tall figure lounging comfortably. In a lazy tone, he said, "Although the entire article seems to be in my favor, releasing it at this twas more of a move by the author to gain attention, a common tactic used by tabloid reporters. It's something you wouldn't do or bother with." Hearing his words, | pursed my lips and asked, "Should we take down the article, then?" Idris shook his head. "No need to bother with things on the internet." With that, he changed the topic directly. "Wake up early tomorrow morning, and I'll take you somewhere." "Where are we going?" He smiled mysteriously and did not answer.

| merely hummed in response and fell silent.

After a short while, Idris' phone rang again. He furrowed his brows, and without letting his seat get warm, he left to attend to his business.

Knowing he was busy, | did not ask further questions.

| stayed in my room alone, lost in thought.

Sweety's situation felt like an invisible hand around my neck. It was neither painful nor numbing, but incredibly suffocating.

The next day, | was awakened by Idris knocking on my door. | opened it in a daze and found him standing outside. | was a bit puzzled and asked, "What's going on?" Seeing my sleepy state, he sighed and said, "Did you forget what | told you yesterday?"