The crowd of fans suddenly felt themselves being pushed aside by an unseen force.
Not the rough, brute-force kind of shoving—but a skillful weaving through gaps with practiced ease.
Soon, a beautiful girl emerged at the front of the crowd.
She wore a support headband just like the others, unmistakably a fan.
Clearly, she was one of those super-devoted types.
Fans like her were both loved and dreaded.
On one hand, they proved just how magnetic their idol was.
On the other, there was always the fear they might cross the line into stalker territory and hurt the very person they adored.
Everyone grew a little more guarded, wary of what reckless move she might make.
Shen Sizhan’s bodyguards were already on high alert!
But the beautiful girl did nothing extreme. She simply smiled and said one thing:
"Shen Sizhan, welcome back!"
The crowd relaxed—she was just a passionate yet rational fan.
Still, even at such close range, it was rare for an idol to give a special response.
His fanbase was massive, and his demeanor was famously icy.
Most expected him to nod briefly, then step into his car and leave the airport.
But after two seconds of waiting…
The idol seemed frozen in place.
No reaction at all.
Wait, had this fan cast some kind of spell on him?
All eyes locked onto Shen Sizhan.
Yet he didn’t even notice.
The noisy airport faded into silence—his world now held only one person.
Big sister, it’s been so long since you last came to see me.
Has eleven years been too much? Have you forgotten me?
In the early days after she left, he saw traces of her everywhere.
She visited him in his dreams every single night.
But as time passed, the dreams grew fewer.
Then, when he joined the entertainment industry and entered a talent show,
her presence returned.
She’d cheer him on, scold him, push him forward.
"You better make it to the finals, or I’ll slap you silly!"
"What? Too tired? Here, let me give you two slaps to wake you up!"
"Hiding and crying again? Go ahead, cry it out—but once this pack of tissues runs out, no more tears, got it?"
"Ahhh! You’re number one! I always dreamed of standing on stage and singing. Sure, you’re still not as good as me, but congrats, Shen Sizhan!"
At his first concert after debut—a venue packed with thousands—
he saw her in the crowd, waving a glow stick.
Near the end, rain began pouring down.
He kept performing, drenched.
The show closed with deafening cheers and screams.
He couldn’t tell if his face was wet from rain or tears.
His second brother had always been business-savvy.
His fourth brother was naturally brilliant, mastering anything after one lesson.
But him? He had no standout talents.
So he resorted to mischief just to catch his sister’s attention.
Now, standing on stage, he finally had something to be proud of.
Gazing at her through the rain, he whispered, "Big sister, are you proud of me?"
But no answer came.
How could it?
She was just a figment of his imagination.
She never saw him shine on stage.
She had been gone for years.
Big sister, I wish you could see this.
See that your third brother isn’t useless—he’s amazing too.
But you’ll never know.
After that concert, he fell ill for a while.
Then came relentless schedules, touring nonstop under his agency’s demands.
On stages around the world, he often spotted her in the audience.
But this tour? She never appeared.
Maybe eleven years was too long. Maybe she’d forgotten him.
He’d planned to visit the bridge tonight—just to remind her he still existed.
He couldn’t let her forget.
Yet what he never expected was…
She came back.
She hadn’t forgotten him.
Tears welled up instantly. He lowered his head, adjusting his sunglasses to hide them, and muttered, "Everyone, stay safe."
Big sister, you stay safe too on your way home.
Better yet, ride with me.
Sit on the car roof and enjoy the Beijing skyline.
The fans were surprised their idol ignored the beautiful, devoted fan.
They knew Shen Sizhan well—aloof and cold, but never outright rude.
Was she a disguised anti-fan? Had he seen through her?
Shen Sizhan’s talent skyrocketed him to fame, but his bluntness also earned him countless haters.
Once, an anti-fan pretended to be a fan at an event and spat at him.
Shen Sizhan dodged effortlessly—then spat back, deadpan.
The anti-fan didn’t dodge in time, freezing in shock before collapsing.
The incident trended, drawing heavy backlash.
But after that, no anti-fan dared attack him up close again.
Lin Mo smiled bitterly when ignored.
Of course Third Brother thinks I’m a hallucination—or a ghost!
It made sense.
If their parents suddenly appeared before her, she’d react the same way.
Talking to someone who shouldn’t exist? People would think you’d lost it.
With so many fans watching, he’d never risk speaking to her.
After waving goodbye, Shen Sizhan turned to leave.
If he moved fast enough, no one would spot his tears.
But just as he stepped toward the car—
A hand grabbed his arm.
His pulse spiked.
A stalker fan?
The crowd tensed.
Bodyguards moved to intervene.
Then Shen Sizhan turned to see who it was.
His mind went blank.
It was her.
His sister.
She was holding him.
He felt the grip—real, solid.
Oh no. The plane must’ve crashed. I’m dead.
She’s here to take me away.
Honestly? Not the worst outcome.
The only things weighing on him:
- Second Brother’s hopeless romantic streak would leave him scammed out of everything.
- Fourth Brother was still missing—no idea if he was okay.
But otherwise? Nothing much.
Fans would move on to new idols.
The entertainment industry never ran short of those.
Take me with you.
I’ve missed you and Mom and Dad so much.
I’ll haunt Second Brother in his dreams—tell him to just become a monk and quit dating.
Then I’ll wander the mortal world, search for Fourth Brother.
Once found, I’ll haunt Second Brother again to bring him home.
The rest of the time? I’ll haunt that bloodsucking bastard of a manager, scare him sleepless.
Otherwise, I’ll just float around with you and Mom and Dad.
Shen Sizhan had his afterlife all planned out—
Until his sister’s voice snapped him back:
"Shen Sizhan! I’m real!"
