“Wh, what?“ Yan Hansheng asked blankly, a chill settling into his bones at Lin FenXiang's words.
“I need you to be absolutely sure that you don't feel like you are being watched or anything like that.“
“Fen, FenXiang,” Yan Hansheng started, taking a deep breath. “Why would, would I be sta, stalked? I mean I don, don't think there's, there's something particularly spe, special about me to wa, warra, warrant stalking. Sure I'm a fam, famous musician and all, but, but I'm no, not an a very inter, interesting person.“ He whispered, looking around in paranoia.
“Yan Hansheng,” Lin started, wanting to keep his voice firm as he massaged his forehead. “People now a days get stalked for stupidest reasons and you are still a famous musician, a genius musician in fact. What makes you think you can't be stalked? People who want to do shitty things will find reasons to do them anyway.“
Yan Hansheng fell silent. “Oh.“