After Coming Back from That Dinner Party, I Was No Longer a Human Being

People often say that the entertainment industry is a big dyeing vat. Wrong. The dye vat at least allows you to keep your shape, or at most change the color. This is a meat grinder and an altar. My name is Shen Li. Now, I am standing in the center of the spotlight and enjoying the popularity of thousands of people. My face is flawless, and my eye movements are praised by the media as "a clear spring that can cleanse the soul." But I know that there is nothing under this skin. It all started at two o'clock in the morning. When I rejected the man who could destroy my career and returned to my dilapidated rental house, I thought I was holding on to the bottom line. Until I saw the pool of black stagnant water in the washbasin that could not be washed away. It's alive. It's breathing. It tells me: Do you want to be popular? Then trade your most precious possessions. I thought what I was trading was conscience and shame. Until I discovered that in the mirror, at midnight, black threads began to ooze under my skin; my body temperature was irreversibly lowering; I became increasingly numb to human emotions. It turns out that when you decide to exchange your skin for everything, all the scenery you get is just a mirror. You think you have climbed to the top of the pyramid, but in fact you have just become a meal for higher-level monsters. But beneath that shiny surface, rot has already begun.