Huayu: I Have a Doraemon

Chapter 71 Everything is Ready

boom!

A vase crashed heavily to the ground, the crisp sound of shattering porcelain echoing through the study, shards flying everywhere.

Panting heavily, Ye Daying leaned against the table and cursed loudly at the window:

"That little bastard actually used that trick!!!"

Tan Lin stood helplessly in the corner, not daring to breathe.

"How dare he!"

Ye Daying suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot. "How dare that kind of stray dog!"

He broke down, completely broke down.

He's always the one threatening others, so when did he get the chance to be threatened?

Isn't this going against the heavens?

Ye Daying was panting heavily, and his face was getting increasingly pale.

Seeing this, Tan Lin couldn't help but speak up and offer some advice:

"If more than 50 people report this, the police will definitely get involved. Taking further action would be too risky."

Most importantly, public opinion has shown signs of getting out of control.

As photos of the vandalized clinic were uploaded online, various conspiracy theories emerged.

Even with attempts to suppress it, terms like "Ye Daying," "Beijing Circle," and "Huanya" frequently appear in the website's comment section.

If they continue their attack, even if they manage to crush Lin An, their side will definitely suffer serious damage.

Ye Daying naturally understood all of this, but it was precisely because he understood that he became angrier the more he thought about it.

"Tell me, did he come up with this trick himself, or did someone teach him?" he asked in a deep voice.

Tan Lin was taken aback. "You mean?"

Ye Daying's face was grim as he said, "Where would a teenager get the guts to do such a thing, and how could he possibly do it so cleanly?"

Tan Lin fell into deep thought, wondering who would help Lin An, or rather, who wanted to deal with the Beijing elite circle.

But he quickly gave up because there were just too many possible candidates.

Ye Daying, now calmer, said indifferently:

"Send someone to keep an eye on that kid. Find out who he met and what he said."

Tan Lin felt a pang of bitterness, thinking that this was not something that could be easily accomplished.

Ye Daying glanced at him and said impatiently:

"If you can't keep an eye on him, keep an eye on his film crew! No matter what he does, he'll eventually end up on set."

Tan Lin thought it made sense and nodded in agreement.

……

……

Dengshikou, Building 14.

The already crowded community is now filled with police cars, and uniformed police officers are coming and going to conduct searches and investigations.

In the shadows of the street, Lin An quietly watched this scene, and after confirming that the police had not found any useful information, he turned and left.

Now that there are no more worries, the next step is to focus on dealing with Ye Daying's matter.

He took out his phone, dialed Ji Tao's number, and asked:

"How's the actor situation going?"

The other end of the phone was extremely noisy; shouts mingled with the conversation, making it sound like a bustling city. Ji Tao's voice carried a hint of helplessness.

"There's no problem with Deng Chao; the deal is already made. But it seems like things aren't going well with Chen Shu."

Lin An asked, puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"It is a principle that first- and second-year students at the Central Academy of Drama are not allowed to take on acting roles outside of their regular studies."

Ji Tao sighed, "Those teachers refused very decisively, saying that they couldn't break the rules again and again, and told me to let Gao Lu go back to class as soon as possible."

Lin An frowned, instinctively thinking that Ye Daying was responsible, but quickly realized that the other party couldn't have done such a thing.

Otherwise, Gao Lu would have left with Gao Yuanyuan.

He was silent for a few seconds, his mind racing through the information, before speaking:

"I want Chen Shu. You tell those teachers that if they agree, I'll still look for actors from the Central Academy of Drama for my next project."

Ji Tao said speechlessly, "You think this kind of pie is useful?"

Lin An said calmly, "As long as the pie is big enough, why wouldn't it be useful?"

Ji Tao couldn't help but roll his eyes: "Then you should at least have some pancakes."

Moreover, even if you're making empty promises, it depends on who's doing the work. You can't just say there's a project and expect it to happen; you're not Zhang Yimou!

"I wrote a script more than two months ago, adapted from 'Shenmu,' which tells the story of a mine in Northwest China. It's almost finished now," Lin An said.

Ji Tao was stunned. "Are you serious?"

Lin An didn't want to answer such nonsense, so he hung up the phone directly.

He wasn't worried at all about how Ji Tao would convince the teachers at the Central Academy of Drama without a script.

That's what a producer does.

Ji Tao doesn't have that much ability; he doesn't even have the guts to rebel against Huanya and go it alone.

……

……

It was dusk when I returned to the convenience store.

After more than two months of work by Lin An and Doraemon, this originally rustic two-story self-built house has been completely transformed.

The single-leaf wooden door was changed to a double-leaf door.

The ground floor store has been transformed into an open-plan living room and rest area.

The area where the shelves used to be was now covered with a reddish-brown carpet, and against the wall was a row of solid wood bookshelves, crammed full of comic books.

The area by the window has been converted into a rest area.

The linear cash register was replaced with an L-shaped worktable, on which sat an espresso machine and a large quantity of dorayaki.

The only regret is that this carefully renovated little shop has not yet opened for business.

Old Zhao is still in Shenzhen taking care of his son and won't be back for a while.

Doraemon originally planned to go himself, but Lin An was afraid that Old Zhao would have something to say when he returned, so he did not agree.

Lin An walked up the stairs to the second floor.

The door to the room at the end of the corridor was ajar, and a sliver of warm yellow light shone through the crack.

The sound of rapid, clattering keyboard clicks came from inside.

Lin An walked to the door and pushed it open.

A rich, sweet aroma of dorayaki wafts over.

In the room, Doraemon's round body nestled in a large chair, his two round hands typing rapidly on the keyboard, so fast that they almost left afterimages.

There were three monitors on the table, arranged in an arc around him, their screens densely covered with code.

Hearing the noise, Doraemon stopped what he was doing, turned to look at Lin An, and blinked, saying:

"Is everything alright?"

Lin An shook his head. "No, the police didn't find anything."

Doraemon shook his head smugly:

"I told you long ago, the [invisibility potion] can eliminate all traces. You're just being too cautious."

Lin An leaned against the doorframe, his tone indifferent:

"Better safe than sorry. If I had thought one step ahead, none of this would have happened."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Doraemon's expression turned sad.

As a childcare robot, his worldview has been greatly shaken these past few days.

Lin An didn't press the matter further; he simply raised his chin, steer the conversation back on track:

"How is the situation?"

Upon hearing this, Doraemon immediately perked up.

He turned his chair around and tapped a few keys on the keyboard with his round hands:

"The web technology of your era is extremely primitive, consisting entirely of static HTML pages. I can easily use web crawlers to flood the screen with data."

Lin An asked, "Is the internet speed fast enough?"

Doraemon said, "Swiping on screens requires very little internet speed."

"What about security?"

Doraemon grinned and said, "I encrypted the IP address and used a proxy, so it's impossible to find it."

Lin An nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave.

"Wait a moment."

Doraemon's voice came from behind me.

Lin An stopped in his tracks, turned to the side, and looked down at that round face.

Doraemon said in a complicated tone, "Isn't what we're doing too cruel?"

Lin An asked, "You want to give up?"

Doraemon shook his head vigorously: "Of course not."

He paused for a moment, his tone tinged with sadness:

"I mean... we have so many props. We can use the [Forgetfulness Stick] to make him forget about stealing the script, or use the [Honest Radio Wave] to make him tell the truth himself, or if that doesn't work, we can use the [Terror Box] to scare him for a few days..."

He became more and more anxious as he spoke, as if he wanted to pour out all the turmoil of the past few days, but in the end, his voice gradually lowered.

Lin An looked at the incoherent blue robot cat in front of him with gentle eyes, feeling both envious and helpless.

He was glad he hadn't told Doraemon the whole plan, otherwise the robot cat would definitely have gone crazy.

From a moral and legal standpoint, Lin An really finds it difficult to refute what Doraemon just said.

Unfortunately, this world is neither reasonable nor just.

To truly resolve the current troubles, simply doing this much is far from enough.