Upon hearing Chen Baiyuan’s shocking words, Rong Ting felt as if struck by lightning, standing there frozen on the spot.
“Alright, come on in.” Chen Baiyuan acted as though she had just cracked an inconsequential joke, pulling open the door and gesturing for her to enter first.
Rong Ting finally snapped back to reality and couldn’t help but marvel as she glanced at the bedroom.
Chen Baiyuan’s bedroom was ten times the size of her current one, designed like a princess’s room, with soft pink tones everywhere. It was filled with plush toys and figurines, and on the desk sat a large widescreen computer equipped with a complete set of recording gear. One of the microphones looked extremely familiar to Rong Ting.
She pointed at the microphone. “What’s this?”
“Ah, that’s a condenser microphone, great for voiceovers and dubbing.”
Rong Ting’s curiosity was piqued. “Are you interested in dubbing too?”
“Of course,” Chen Baiyuan said proudly. “I’m practically an old fan by now. I follow all the big names in the dubbing circle.”
As if to prove her point, she booted up the computer. “You know, my idol is going live in a bit. I’m going to tune in. Want to join?”
Rong Ting was about to shake her head but then remembered the importance of adapting to her surroundings—what else could she do anyway?
Besides, she was a little curious about what Ran Jiu’s work was like.
Seeing her nod, Chen Baiyuan smiled with satisfaction. “You can join me in fangirling over him later.”
When she opened the livestream, it had already been running for over ten minutes. The voice actor inside wasn’t showing their face but was singing a song. Rong Ting recognized it as a popular ancient-style song called “Sword Slashes Mountains and Rivers.” The subtitles in the chatroom were scrolling frantically, filled with fans’ excited shouts.
Chen Baiyuan listened with starry eyes. “Ahhh, this is amazing! Lord Ting is just incredible!”
“His voice is so beautiful! I love it!” She typed the message into the chat and clicked something that made it linger at the center of the screen for thirty seconds, then proceeded to send several virtual gifts.
The voice actor inside, having finished the song, chuckled and said, “Thank you, Ayuan.”
Rong Ting asked, “Is this a male CV?”
The CV inside said something else, and Chen Baiyuan nearly jumped with excitement, letting out another string of “ahhhs.”
Once she had calmed down, she finally remembered Rong Ting’s question. “I just admire him, but I still prefer girls.”
Rong Ting: “…”
Watching from the side, Rong Ting was utterly bewildered. The gifts looked expensive, judging by their high values. She pointed at one of the gift icons. “Um, how much is this in RMB?”
Chen Baiyuan turned back, looking both confused and amused. “The ones I sent? I forgot. Maybe around five hundred? Not much.” With that, she casually sent a few more gifts.
Rong Ting instantly felt her heart skip a beat. She only earned a hundred yuan per hour tutoring! This girl was practically showering money like petals, spending five hundred in a minute?
Fortunately, Chen Baiyuan’s excitement gradually faded after half an hour, and she finally started chatting with her cousin.
“Cousin, are you into dubbing too?”
Rong Ting shook her head. “Not really. I have a friend who does some part-time work in that field, so I was just asking.”
Chen Baiyuan’s eyes lit up. “Who is it?”
Rong Ting smiled and shook her head. “My roommate is a CV, I think she’s with the Little Freesia Studio?”
“I’ve heard of this studio!” Chen Baiyuan proudly explained. “They mostly work on audio dramas! And last year, they produced a lot of yuri series! Their momentum only started picking up this year. I heard they’ve been recruiting new talent like crazy lately. Your roommate probably got in as an intern.”
“Oh.”
Chen Baiyuan spoke with authority on the subject: “I absolutely love Jiu Tu from there, you know? She has the most stunningly beautiful voice for dominant roles! It was because of her that I got into those series. I even follow her on Weibo!”
“Which Jiu Tu?”
“Ah, it’s the ‘jiu’ for drinking and the ‘tu’ for futile effort.”
A chord in Rong Ting’s mind was suddenly plucked.
Xiao Zhi had mentioned that Ran Jiu’s voice actor name also contained “jiu.” It was almost certainly her.
Listening to Chen Baiyuan’s introduction, Rong Ting instinctively searched for “Jiu Tu” on Weibo. Several related users popped up. Chen Baiyuan saw and advised her, “You can’t search like that. You need to add the studio’s name in front.”
Rong Ting added “Xiao Canglan,” and sure enough, one user was filtered out. She opened the page and was surprised. This user had 160,000 followers, but the profile picture was a snow-capped mountain shrouded in white mist. Looking at the content, it was almost entirely studio promotions, with no personal daily life shared.
In the early days, there were only a few landscape photos, yet the comments and reposts were numerous. One photo was particularly atmospheric—a misty, hazy lake surface with steam rising, a yurt nearby, and colorful prayer flags fluttering in the wind.
Chen Baiyuan was still chattering away. “She’s very low-key. If she posted more updates, I might become a fan. But she hardly ever shows up, so it’s hard to stan her.”
Sometimes, a person who seems vibrant in real life appears only as a hazy mist through the virtual lens of the internet.
Ran Jiu’s Weibo comments were filled with dedicated fans. Among her followers, people called her all sorts of names—some called her “Jiu Bao,” “Jiu Zai,” “Jiu Da,” and some even called her “wife.” Ran Jiu usually only replied to the first few comments. The ones she responded to gained higher traction and more likes, showing how much her fans adored her.
Rong Ting had wanted to look for her works, but a voice from below urged them to come downstairs. Chen Da was calling them.
As soon as Chen Baiyuan heard it was time to eat, she dashed out. Rong Ting had no choice but to follow.
In the evening, Chen Da took them to a state banquet-style restaurant and ordered many small but luxurious dishes—traditional lion’s head, Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, and clear broth cabbage. While eating, Rong Ting didn’t think much of it, but when she saw the staggering bill, her hand trembled slightly.
Chen Da signed the bill and, on their way out, tried to persuade Rong Ting to move in with them.
Chen Baiyuan really liked her. “Cousin, just come over. I can ask you for help with my homework,” she whispered, leaning in. “And I can tell you more about the voice acting circle gossip. Want to hear it?”
Rong Ting smiled and honestly said that her newly rented apartment’s lease wasn’t up yet, and it was more convenient for her to go to school from there.
Chen Baiyuan pouted unhappily.
As a distant relative she hadn’t seen in a long time, Chen Da’s warmth and patience were enough to soothe her heart. Having been in the capital for so long, Rong Ting felt a sense of belonging for the first time, but she also knew she couldn’t just stay at someone else’s house.
Moreover, there was a tugging feeling in her heart, pulling her back.
Later, unable to resist the enthusiasm of the father and daughter, Rong Ting agreed to come once a week to help Chen Baiyuan with her studies. Chen Da reluctantly relented and drove her back.
Before she even reached the entrance of the residential complex, Rong Ting felt a sharp pain flare up in her ankle again. She gritted her teeth against the stabbing discomfort as she climbed the stairs back home. When she opened the door, the lights inside were off. She fumbled her way through the darkness into her own bedroom, naturally not noticing whether the person in the neighboring room was home or not.
Once inside, she switched on the light and collapsed onto the bed. Only then did she casually peel off her sock and apply the ointment.
The bruise and sprain ointment had a strong, pungent smell. As she spread it over her skin, a sharp pain slowly rose, but fortunately, the medicine began to take effect, and the dull, swollen ache gradually faded away.
Fine beads of sweat formed on Rong Ting’s forehead. In the brief moment after applying the ointment, she stared blankly into space and sighed toward the ceiling.
Suddenly, she heard the door of the neighboring room open. Before she could tidy up the mess around her, she found herself face to face with Ran Jiu standing at the doorway.
Remembering that she had secretly peeked at Ran Jiu’s Weibo, Rong Ting couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. “You came back quite early today.”
“Oh, I took the day off. I haven’t gone out at all today,” Ran Jiu replied, but her gaze drifted downward, settling on Rong Ting’s swollen ankle. “What happened to your foot?”
Rong Ting hung her head dejectedly. “I sprained it playing volleyball.”
Ran Jiu stared at her for a moment, and for some reason, she thought Rong Ting looked like a pitiful, droopy-eared rabbit—both tragic and a little amusing.
Rong Ting had assumed Ran Jiu would just glance at her and leave, but instead, she turned and walked out. The sound of running water came from the bathroom, and after a while, Ran Jiu returned with a basin of water, draped with Rong Ting’s own towel.
Rong Ting was taken aback. She watched as Ran Jiu dipped the towel into the water several times, wrung it out, and then brought it close to her swollen, painful ankle.
“Hey, hey, wait, wait—” The next second, Rong Ting couldn’t help but let out a yelp.
The scalding hot towel pressed against the injured area, the heat intensifying the original dull pain. The two sensations intertwined, making Rong Ting feel as if her soul were ascending.
“Alright, don’t you know that a hot towel helps relax muscles, promote blood circulation, and enhance the medicine’s effect?” Ran Jiu raised an eyebrow, massaging the area with great care for a while before turning back to soak the towel again and reapply it to Rong Ting’s foot.
Rong Ting instinctively tried to pull away, but she could clearly feel the strength in the other’s hands. Despite having slender, delicate fingers, Ran Jiu held her calf firmly, making it impossible for her to move—almost as if she were forcing her to endure it.
Fortunately, after the initial wave of pain subsided, her ankle gradually began to feel more comfortable. Later, as the water cooled, Ran Jiu fetched another basin of hot water and continued to apply the compress to the injured area.
Feeling genuinely embarrassed, Rong Ting took hold of the towel herself. Ran Jiu didn’t insist further and let go, instead resting her chin in her hand as she watched Rong Ting.
Rong Ting sat on the bed, while Ran Jiu crouched on the floor. Their gazes met in the air, one high, one low.
Ran Jiu’s eyes were no longer hazy and confused like they had been the day before. Now, they were clear and sharp, as if waiting for an explanation about yesterday’s events.
Rong Ting sighed. “Yesterday, a very beautiful woman brought you back. She said you were drunk on milk.”
Hearing this, Ran Jiu burst into laughter. “Drunk on milk? Little one, do you even know what that means? You can’t just say things like that.”
Rong Ting’s face flushed with panic as she stumbled over her words. “It wasn’t me who said it! That woman… never mind. She also said you had a studio gathering and you drank eggnog, which is why you ended up like that.”
“Hmm.” Ran Jiu suddenly lifted her eyelids to look at her. “So, you know what I do now?”
What I do…
Do…
The words were spoken lightly, but in Rong Ting’s mind, scenes of a killer silencing someone surfaced. “Um, you never mentioned it before, so I thought you didn’t want me to know. If you hadn’t told me, I would have never found out. Actually, I think this job is really great, really cool…” The more she tried to explain, the more tangled her words became, and her voice gradually trailed off.
“It’s fine if you know.” Ran Jiu stirred the water in the basin. “I didn’t mention it because I couldn’t be bothered explaining it to an outsider. After all, what you think is good might be seen by others as not a proper job.”
Rong Ting quickly asked, “How could it not be a proper job? Who would think that way?”
“Many people.” Ran Jiu’s tone was light, like water that had cooled and lost its warmth. “Alright, I’ll pour out the water. You should apply some more medicine and get to bed early.”
Rong Ting nodded. “Goodnight, you should rest early too.”
She felt a wave of relief, grateful that Ran Jiu hadn’t brought up yesterday’s incident.
But Ran Jiu suddenly stopped in her tracks, still holding the basin steadily. “Rong Ting?”
“Hmm?” Startled by the call, Rong Ting looked up in confusion.
“When I’m busy with work and come back late sometimes, does it disturb you?”
Rong Ting’s heart raced. “It doesn’t.”
“Oh, I see.” Ran Jiu lowered her eyelashes, a faint hint of disappointment in her expression.
For some reason, Rong Ting felt as if her heart had been lightly pricked by the tip of a feather, and she suddenly changed her answer. “But I hope you come back early. We could have dinner together.”
A smile spread across Ran Jiu’s lips. “Alright.”