Jiang Wan only did nighttime livestreams, starting at 10 p.m. and ending at 1 a.m.
She saved every livestream recording so new fans could watch the replays later.
Her desk was filled with tools — over a dozen small bottles. Many fans liked the sound of bottle caps being twisted open, while others preferred the sound of ear cleaning, and quite a few enjoyed the sound of bubbles popping.
She rarely spoke during her streams. If she did, it was just a soft “pop” sound made with her lips, like a little fish blowing bubbles.
When fans left comments on the screen, she’d respond with another bubble sound. If there were no comments, she would quietly brush the microphone with a feather or a cotton swab.
At 1 a.m., she ended the stream, shutting it down without a word — no “goodnight” like other streamers.
This was her habit.
She always felt self-conscious about her accent and worried people would notice, so she avoided speaking.
But He Yingtong once complimented her, saying her accent was barely noticeable.
Back in prison, apart from reading books, Jiang Wan often read novels aloud to her cellmates. They liked listening to her, saying it gave them a sense of peace and spiritual comfort.
After tidying up her desk, Jiang Wan opened the door to go to the bathroom.
But the moment she opened the door, she froze.
The living room light was on. The man was holding a glass of juice, spilling it along the floor as he walked toward the bathroom.
“……”
Jiang Wan softly asked, “Do you hate me?”
The man didn’t respond. He reopened the fridge, took out an egg, and with a soft “plop,” dropped it on the floor.
Jiang Wan stepped behind him. “Mr. Wen Jin, I think we need to have a serious conversation. Do you dislike me? Do you not want me here? Is that why you’re doing this?”
The man turned around, but it was as if he didn’t even see her. He grabbed another bottle of juice, opened it, and poured it onto the floor.
Jiang Wan started to get frustrated. She reached out to stop him, but just before her hand touched him, she noticed his eyes.
They were half-open — not fully closed, but not completely open either.
Jiang Wan froze for a moment.
Was he… sleepwalking?
She took a few steps back, quietly observing him.
The man was tall — almost 1.9 meters — with a blank expression. He kept taking drinks and juices from the fridge, pouring them onto the floor, and returning to grab more, until the fridge was completely empty. Then, without a word, he opened his bedroom door and shut it behind him.
It was Jiang Wan’s first time seeing someone sleepwalk.
There were rumors about sleepwalkers in prison, but she had never witnessed it herself — until now. It made her feel uneasy.
She didn’t know what sleepwalkers were capable of, but there was a story about one inmate who tried to strangle someone in their sleep. They ended up being locked in solitary confinement.
Jiang Wan grabbed a mop and started cleaning the floor. It took her more than an hour to tidy up the mess.
She had been busy all day, so the moment she showered and lay down on her bed, she fell asleep instantly.
When her alarm went off, she had only slept for less than four hours.
Rubbing her eyes, she got up and went grocery shopping.
To her surprise, she saw the man downstairs, running laps. He was already sweating lightly on his forehead.
He was wearing a white tracksuit with a cap on his head and earphones in his ears. His tall, lean figure radiated energy and youthful vitality.
Jiang Wan thought about how he had looked earlier that morning — pouring drinks onto the floor with a blank face — and found it hard to connect that man to the one standing in front of her now.
After buying her groceries, she saw the man coming out of the supermarket with a drink in hand.
“Mr. Wen Jin,” Jiang Wan approached him, “I bought some drinks. If you want anything next time, you can just give me a list, and I’ll pick them up for you.”
Wen Jin removed his earphones and tilted his head to look at her.
He was very tall, and his gaze, from that height, carried a faint sense of superiority.
His voice was low, husky, and magnetic — but the words he spoke weren’t exactly kind.
“You’re a housekeeper, responsible for cleaning. You’re not my nanny.”
Jiang Wan: “……”