Congratulations to the WeChat account Mysterious Mr. Owl Q on reaching one thousand followers! Confetti 🎉

I saw the news first thing in the morning and became so excited that, amid the deadline panic of finishing a paper, I found time to doodle some limited-edition merchandise. Only one exists, so you tell me whether that counts as limited. If the opportunity arises, I will put it into ruthless mass production. (

Come to think of it, I have been in the puzzle community for roughly as long as that account has existed. I have recently been organizing the various puzzle-related things I wrote over the past year, so here is a tiny preview—and a lazy way to pad today’s word count.

I found the date by searching my chat history: October 3, 2024. If our chemistry teacher had not given us a self-study period, if I had not finished my work early (?), and if QQ had not been installed on my laptop, I would never have spotted that puzzle in the group while scrolling through old messages out of boredom.

The “Rusty Lake ARG Group” was connected to the hidden scroll puzzle released inside The Past Within. Because each player could obtain only a limited number of scrolls, people around the world had to collaborate and assemble the whole puzzle. If you are curious, BV1pg411b7X9 explains it in detail. After the event ended, the group remained as a casual chat, though naturally Rusty Lake still receives plenty of intense discussion. It even has dedicated puzzle events—but that comes later.

This particular puzzle event was created during the National Day holiday as something beyond the group’s regular get-together. The group owner, Quest, had just led a team through GPH, a large international Puzzle Hunt, and apparently wanted more people to experience the joy of puzzles. (Question mark; citation needed.) I did not join the social event itself, because that is how internet introverts are. I only entered the hunt with Puzzle 2.

And then everything spiraled out of control.

As for my contributions to the account, there were essentially none. I do not know whether I am an unusual case, but I consider myself incapable of socializing online. Take QQ: I rarely log in. Although I have joined many groups, I am usually the kind of member who gets swept away whenever a full group conducts a purge. When I do say something, I worry about how other people will respond. Sometimes I even feel relieved when my message is ignored in the flood, because if someone picks it up and starts another discussion, that only creates more pressure for me.

That was why I had barely used QQ in almost ten years.

Today, at least, I am intermittently active in a few groups. I suppose that is the power of loving something.

Several occasions remain vivid in my memory. Once, when I needed to tell the ARG group about an exam, I asked Q to publish a message through the account. Not many people replied, but those who did still warmed my heart. Another time, in the small group for Taobao’s tenth-anniversary event, I became abnormally talkative and declared that I had “used up an entire year’s supply of conversation.” Then there was the day I finished editing the Gold Medal Puzzle video. Once again, I asked Q to share it, crawled directly under my blankets, and fell asleep. When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I did was scroll through the history to see the reactions.

Why am I like this? I cannot really explain it. In person, I am clearly an extrovert—questionable under certain circumstances—but online, somehow I cannot do it.

Wait, were we not talking about the WeChat account?

In any case, thank you all for your support! And if you, yes you, are reading this and have not yet followed Mysterious Mr. Owl Q, please move that little finger and tap Follow. Thank you, meow.