"Don’t worry, I’m not that fragile," Jane Sampson chuckled, her laughter free from any hint of strain or resignation.
If her spirit were so fragile, where in this world would there be sunshine for her, Jane Sampson?
As for the guard team, ever since Jane Sampson’s emoticons were released, Peter Gingery had been keeping an eye on the show. On Saturday night, a group of them huddled in the entertainnt room, surrounding the big TV to watch.
In the sizable entertainnt room, those who couldn’t snag a chair even sat on the floor. Peter Gingery, sitting in the middle of the crowd, was laughing mischievously to himself. He was planning to go online after the program ended and edit together all of Jane’s footage—any of it that could be made into an emoticon, whether still or animated. He intended to save every last one.
Later, when Jane Sampson gave him a hard ti, he would respond with her own emoticons. Then he would see how Jane managed to banter with him cheerfully.
While watching the TV, Peter Gingery was also scrolling through twitter on his mobile phone. He had started following the official twitter of the show, or rather because Jane Sampson was on it.
Probably because he wanted to see how everyone was praising their Black Family’s adorable Jane Sampson, Peter Gingery flipped through many pages of comnts.
At first, it was fine—many people were complinting Jane Sampson on her beauty, her pleasant voice, and even praising her fashionable clothing and great figure. But gradually, the newly refreshed comnts on twitter beca less and less pleasant to read.
Peter Gingery directly engaged in a clash with Sophie Young and William Rivers’ crazy fans in the official twitter’s comnt section, and others nearby noticed sothing was amiss there too.
"Peter Gingery, look at the official twitter’s comnt section, do you see it? There are actually people saying our new goddess is a scher, that she played the ga with such cunning that she eliminated her opponent. Are these people’s brains full of holes? This kind of ga, ’Who is the Undercover’, isn’t it all about intelligence? Are you supposed to know who the opponents are and still keep them around? Is this kind of idiocy what they consider pure and lovable in the eyes of these crazy fans?"
The roomful of fired-up gentlen wasn’t watching the TV anymore, instead holding their mobile phones and joining the fray in the comnt section against those crazy fans.
This was the ti when solidarity was especially important. The room of people, who had initially co to simply enjoy the show, couldn’t resist the many teammates who favored the star nad Jane Sampson. Hearing that their teammates’ new goddess was being insulted, all these hot-blooded gentlen joined in the fierce battle of words.
Everyone in the room brandished their smartphones, but in the end they were too few against the many crazy fans of Sophie Young and William Rivers. All their rebuttals and provocation amounted to no more than a small stone dropped into a vast sea, causing a little ripple, then dying down without a trace. The crazy fans even accused Peter Gingery and the others of being fake supporters hired by Jane Sampson, which infuriated them to no end.
"These lon-headed kids, did their mothers throw away the baby and raise the placenta instead when they were born? Placenta gods!" The words, spoken with a thick regional accent, rang particularly loud in the entertainnt room.
"To be a person, is it so hard to be one with a brain? Must one be a big-headed fool?" One team mber, infuriated, slapped the table, "Is my goddess being manipulative here? My goddess has intelligence; playing gas should be about matching wits with such people—that’s what makes them fun! These idiots!"
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