286: Chapter 286: A Counterfeit Diary Found! Someone Forged Su Qingyu's First Kiss

Seventeen hours after the Diary Vouchers were issued, the first problem emerged.

It wasn't price volatility or market manipulation; it was a dispute over authenticity.

The investor holding Voucher No. 7, an old cultivator from a Cultivation Civilization, submitted the first "emotional question" to Su Qingyu according to the agreement:

"May I ask, Benefactor Su, on which day did the 'first time you looked Lin Chen in the eye for more than three seconds' recorded in your diary occur? What were you thinking at the time?"

Su Qingyu followed the rules and answered truthfully:

"Day 37 before the Tinder Era, during the first Board of Directors meeting of the Underworld Group. I was thinking: How does this person dare to talk about P/E ratios in front of the God Realm shareholders?"

The answer was posted on the exclusive forum for voucher holders.

Everyone was watching.

Then, the holder of Voucher No. 7 posted a long article:

"Based on Benefactor Su's answer, I checked the contents of the 37th day of her diary. The diary says: 'At the board meeting today, when Lin Chen talked about P/E ratios, my heart raced. After the meeting, he asked if I was feeling unwell, and I said no.'"

"But here's the problem—if her heart was racing at the time, why didn't she mention it at all in her answer? Do the diary and the answer not match?"

"I have reason to suspect that the data in the Diary Vouchers is faked, and Su Qingyu's true feelings may be far less intense than what's written in the diary!"

As soon as the long post came out, the forum exploded.

The retail investor groups began to split:

"Exactly! Why didn't the answer mention the heartbeat?"

"Maybe she just forgot to write it..."

"Forgot? This is an emotional voucher; how could she forget?"

"Someone's just nitpicking, right?"

SQL-EMO's stock price fell in response.

From 1.32 million points, it dropped to 970,000 points within half an hour.

Su Qingyu looked at the long post, her brow furrowed.

"My heart really was racing then," she said to Lin Chen. "But when I was answering, I thought it was nonsense, so I didn't mention it. Who would have thought..."

"You're not wrong," Lin Chen interrupted her. "What's wrong is that someone is intentionally nitpicking over words."

He pulled up the information on the holder of Voucher No. 7.

An old cultivator from a Cultivation Civilization, Taoist name 'Qingxuan', Foundation Establishment stage, assets around 30 million dimension points, holding about 5,000 shares of SQL-EMO stock.

He looked like an ordinary investor.

But Lin Chen continued to dig deeper.

Three minutes later, the truth was unearthed:

The source of Old Taoist Qingxuan's funds was a transfer from an anonymous account.

Transfer amount: 10 million dimension points.

Transfer time: Ten minutes before he submitted the question.

Transfer account registration location: The bottom of the Narrative Layer.

The Silencer.

"It bribed this old Taoist to deliberately nitpick and create controversy." Lin Chen closed the data. "The goal isn't to take down Su Qingyu, but to destroy the credibility of the Diary Vouchers. Once the vouchers' credibility collapses, the pricing basis for SQL-EMO will be gone—because the market will doubt all disclosed emotional data."

"Then what do we do?" Arrogant Dragon asked. "We can't explain every single word, can we?"

Lin Chen was silent for three seconds.

Then he smiled.

"No need to explain," he said. "We'll turn the right to question itself into a financial product."

He opened the system backend and created a new product:

[Product Name: Su Qingyu Emotional Inquiry Rights Futures]

[Underlying Asset: The right to ask Su Qingyu a question]

[Total Issuance: 365 units (bound to the Diary Vouchers)]

[Trading Rules:]

1. Each Diary Voucher comes with one inquiry right per month, which is non-transferable.

2. However, inquiry rights can be futurized—voucher holders can sell their inquiry rights for a certain future month in advance, with the price determined by market bidding.

3. After the inquiry right is sold, the question for that month will be asked by the buyer, and the seller has no right to interfere.

4. Question content must comply with basic ethical standards and must not involve insults, slander, or personal attacks. For illegal questions, the inquiry right will be invalidated and the deposit confiscated.

There was a note at the end of the product description:

"This product aims to improve the liquidity of the emotional market. You can either hold the inquiry right to ask a question yourself, or sell it to someone willing to pay a high price. All transactions are open and transparent, preventing private bribery."

The product went live.

The first person to sell an inquiry right was none other than the holder of Voucher No. 7, Old Taoist Qingxuan.

He sold his inquiry right for next month to an anonymous buyer for 5 million dimension points.

The transaction was completed.

The anonymous buyer immediately submitted a question:

"Su Qingyu, on page 7 of your diary, you wrote 'Today Lin Chen patted my head.' Please describe in detail your heart rate, changes in body temperature, and whether dopamine was secreted at that time. Quantitative data is required."

As soon as the question appeared, the forum exploded again.

"This question is too perverted!"

"Heart rate can even be quantified?"

"Dopamine is even involved? Is this an interrogation?"

But Su Qingyu wasn't angry.

She followed the rules and answered truthfully:

"Heart rate: increased from 68 bpm to 112 bpm, lasting for about 7 seconds. Body temperature: increased by 0.3 degrees. Dopamine secretion: cannot be quantified, but it felt very warm."

The answer was posted.

The comment section fell silent.

Then, someone started doing the math:

"112 bpm... that must be the peak of excitement, right?"

"Lasted for 7 seconds—that means she savored the feeling for 7 seconds after being patted."

"Dopamine can't be quantified, but 'it felt very warm'—this answer is much more sincere than data."

SQL-EMO's stock price began to rebound.

From 970,000 to 1.05 million, then to 1.18 million, and then to 1.30 million.

Not only did it recover its lost ground, but it also hit a new high.

Because the market discovered that Su Qingyu's answers were not only real but could also withstand the test of any tricky question.

The price of the inquiry rights futures also began to skyrocket.

An inquiry right that was originally 5 million units was now soaring to 20 million.

Because everyone wanted to personally ask a question—not to make things difficult, but to hear her answer.

That feeling was too real.

Realer than any K-line chart.

The Silencer watched all of this and was silent for a long time.

The Old Taoist Qingxuan it had bribed for 10 million had now become the "first seller" of the inquiry rights futures, actually helping Su Qingyu prove the market's liquidity.

The tricky question it had bought for 5 million had instead made Su Qingyu's answer appear more sincere.

Its carefully planned public opinion war had instead become a booster for Su Qingyu's personal brand.

"Lin Chen." The Silencer's voice came from the void. "Did you teach her?"

"She taught herself," Lin Chen said. "I only provided the tools."

The Silencer was silent.

Then, it asked a question that stunned everyone:

"Su Qingyu, have you ever thought—if one day, you no longer want to be watched by so many people, what will you do?"

"Your diary is held by 365 people."

"Your emotions are held by 100 million people."

"Your inquiry rights are futurized."

"What do you have left?"

The conference room went quiet.

Arrogant Dragon gripped his sword hilt.

Golden Glazed turned pale.

Number Zero quickly calculated various possibilities—none of them allowed for a perfect exit.

Su Qingyu was silent for three seconds.

Then she smiled.

"I still have him." She pointed at Lin Chen. "I remember everything he taught me. If I want to quit one day, he'll use what he taught me to buy me back."

"The market has its ups and downs," she said. "But there is only one Lin Chen."

"If this market doesn't want me anymore, then let him be my market."

As soon as she finished speaking.

SQL-EMO's stock price suddenly skyrocketed by 300,000 points.

Because the market heard those words.

It wasn't a manipulated surge.

It was retail investors buying in spontaneously—because they also wanted to be treated that way.

The Silencer didn't speak.

Its projection began to dissipate.

Before dissipating, it left one last sentence:

"Su Qingyu."

"You are harder to deal with than I imagined."

"Next time..."

Before the sentence could be finished.

The projection disappeared completely.

But Lin Chen knew there would be a next time.

As long as The Silencer still held 17% of SQL-EMO stock, it had the right to continuously propose, question, and test Su Qingyu's bottom line.

This was a war without an end.

But Su Qingyu didn't seem afraid.

She looked at the K-line chart, at those still-pulsing numbers, and said softly:

"Next time, let it ask something fun."

"Like what?"

"Like... when I can give you a kiss."

Lin Chen was stunned.

Su Qingyu smiled, turned, and left the conference room.

Leaving a room full of people staring at each other.

Arrogant Dragon asked in a low voice, "Boss, does this question require a shareholder vote?"

Lin Chen didn't answer.

But SQL-EMO's stock price rose another 100,000 points.