After ending the broadcast, Tan Ze checked his backend data. The money Black Dog had dropped that night totaled nearly eighteen thousand yuan. After taking a fifty percent platform cut, close to nine thousand yuan landed in Tan Ze’s pocket—more than enough for him to upgrade to a PC with much better performance.
Even so, Tan Ze still felt a bit reluctant to spend the money. Though his current computer frequently acted up and lagged during long streaming sessions, it hadn’t completely given up the ghost just yet.
He went through his routine post-stream customer service duties. When it came to Black Dog, he hesitated for a moment before switching to a different app. Black Dog wasn’t a regular user of the platform he streamed on; his account was completely blank, as if he rarely used it, and the app itself was plagued by so many ads that even Tan Ze kept notifications muted.
Let alone Black Dog.
He sent over that day’s placard sign-up, recorded a full one-minute good-night voice note, and pulled up his gallery to show a collection of previous polaroids, asking which one he wanted.
Black Dog had left the stream room a full hour before Tan Ze logged off. Tan Ze assumed he had already gone to sleep, but the moment he sent the messages, the remark line instantly flipped to read: “The other party is typing…”
Black Dog: [Didn’t take photos in the puffy dress?]
Tan Ze: [The quality of that puffy dress wasn’t great, I broke out in an allergic rash not long after putting it on. I was in a rush to strip it off after the stream and didn’t get a chance to take any polaroids.]
Tan Ze: [Do you want one like that, Ge? I can take some time later to shoot one in a similar style and mail it to you whenever I send out the next batch of polaroids.]
Tan Ze: [Flossy Yanbei is really happy you dropped by, Ge. Because I’ve been dealing with some rough stuff lately, I was desperately wishing I could win that match, and then you just appeared out of nowhere. Thinking about it now still feels kind of surreal. I originally just sent you that message on a whim; when you didn’t show up last time I wore a dress, I thought you were never coming back… TvT]
Black Dog: [You really wanted me to come?]
Tan Ze: [Yeah, yeah, absolutely! I really wanted you to come watch me! I’m super happy when you visit.]
Black Dog: [Will you wear a dress for me next time?]
Black Dog: [Flossy Yanbei.]
Tan Ze had gradually grown used to this exaggerated, cutesy way of talking, but seeing Black Dog suddenly throw that nickname back at him was clearly a deliberate tease poking fun at his “Flossy Yanbei” persona.
A sudden wave of awkwardness washed over him, and his fingers curled up involuntarily.
Yet that day’s livestream had proven an undeniable fact: Black Dog was a golden-thigh sponsor he simply couldn’t afford to lose.
…..
Tan Chengxuan stayed in Jiang City for just one night before taking the high-speed rail back home.
Tan Ze woke up bright and early to see him off, then hurried back to campus in a mad dash. He had been in the student union for two years now, spending his entire term in the External Relations Department.
At the start of university, when he had more energy and hadn’t started streaming yet, he poured plenty of drive into student union work, but this year he was starting to feel stretched thin.
Especially since he had been promoted to head of the External Relations Department as a junior, making him responsible for securing sponsorships for all campus-wide events. The school’s operating budget was limited, and many expenses tied to school activities couldn’t be reimbursed through official channels, leaving the External Relations Department entirely dependent on external sponsorships.
He had originally wanted to quit student union work altogether, but he was afraid his streaming career wouldn’t take off and his extracurricular experience would look too lackluster on future job applications. So, he gritted his teeth and pushed through.
Only now, caught up in the rush of busywork, did he truly understand what it meant to have his feet barely touch the ground.
The moment Tan Ze finished a meeting, someone called out to him.
“Tan-ge, a few of the new recruits in the department are asking when we’re doing our team-building event.”
The person who said this was Xia Xuan, also from the External Relations Department. He was a year junior to Tan Ze, and barring any accidents, once Tan Ze stepped down next year, the position of department head would be his.
Tan Ze had completely forgotten about the team-building event. He pulled out his phone to check the date. “Let’s do it today. Dinner’s on me tonight. Xia Xuan, do you mind letting everyone know?”
Xia Xuan smiled at him. “No problem at all. Just text me the time and location.”
“Oh, right—I heard you moved out of the dorms. Was there an issue with your roommates?”
Tan Ze shook his head. “Not really, just personal reasons. I didn’t want to stay in the dorms anymore.”
“Rent is super expensive around Jiang City, especially near campus. I’ve been looking to move out lately too, and I found a place with a great location and solid conditions. The only downside is that it’s a two-bedroom apartment. Ge, if you’re looking for a solo rental, you might want to consider rooming with me.”
Xia Xuan smiled at him, his eyes curving into slits behind his glasses. He was about the same height as Liang Xubai, with a slightly darker skin tone, and was quite popular around campus.
Logically speaking, if you wanted to figure out which student union department had the best-looking people, it should have been the Girls’ Department—after all, they printed “exceptional appearance and poise” right on their recruitment flyers.
But with Tan Ze and Xia Xuan around, the External Relations Department could easily hold its own against them.
Tan Ze hesitated for a moment. “…Let me think about it.”
In all fairness, purely from a financial standpoint, Tan Ze didn’t want to move out of Bay View. Living at Bay View meant he didn’t have to spend a single penny, even if he occasionally had to swallow his pride and take some hits to his ego. But after yesterday’s ordeal, he was having second thoughts.
He wanted to wait until his streaming income stabilized completely before making a final decision.
“Sure, I’ll wait for your answer,” Xia Xuan nodded.
Tan Ze asked, “How much is the rent per month if we split a place?”
“I asked the agent. It’s four thousand a month—two thousand two for the master bedroom, eighteen hundred for the second bedroom. The location is pretty decent too; walk out the building and you’re right at the subway station, ten minutes on the train to campus.”
That price was already quite affordable and budget-friendly, not to mention the convenient commute.
Tan Ze trusted Xia Xuan’s judgment and character, and he found himself feeling slightly tempted.
Seeing his expression, Xia Xuan knew Tan Ze was pretty satisfied. “Think it over carefully, Tan-ge. If you’re happy with it, I’ll save the master bedroom for you.”
“You’ve already rented it?”
“Planning to. Just need a roommate.”
That afternoon, Tan Ze headed back to Bay View for a bit to catch up on some sleep, then filed a formal time-off notice on his streaming app to let viewers know he wouldn’t be broadcasting that night.
Tan Ze hosted the dinner at a well-known, time-honored local restaurant. Normally, securing a private dining room here required booking two or three days in advance, so he had to pull a few favors and call in a contact to snag a table. Since the previous new-recruit team-building dinners had all been held here, he didn’t want to break tradition.
When he arrived, the private room was already packed. They had left the central seat open for him, and Xia Xuan sat right by his side.
The conversation during departmental dinners naturally revolved around campus gossip. In close-knit cliques like student organizations, gossiping over dinner was practically a daily occurrence—and whenever gossip came up, it was practically impossible to avoid mentioning Liang Xubai.
Several of the new recruits still had their impressions of Liang Xubai frozen in time from the promotional banners displayed out in the plaza recently.
The university had organized a career planning seminar featuring senior fourth-year students with stellar resumes, rich internship experience, and top-tier academic grades. Every student scheduled to present had a nearly two-meter-tall promotional banner printed of themselves, lined up in neat rows across the campus square.
Liang Xubai’s resume was so packed it couldn’t even fit on a single side, and his photograph stood out like a crane among chickens amidst the sea of standard “gold-standard student representative headshots.”
It completely blew the minds of the incoming freshmen and sophomores.
The dinner lasted for over three hours, after which the group migrated to a karaoke lounge to keep the party going.
As the newly appointed head of the department, Tan Ze was targeted by the juniors, who took turns forcing drinks down his throat. By the time he collapsed onto the sofa in the private room, his head was spinning, and the phone in his pocket buzzed endlessly, driving him up the wall.
Tan Ze was shoved up to the microphone to sing a few songs, and once the alcohol fully hit his system, he slumped back onto the couch, completely out cold.
Xia Xuan hadn’t expected Tan Ze’s alcohol tolerance to be this low. Halfway through a song, he glanced over and saw Tan Ze half-slumped across the sofa, his long hair shrouding most of his face and his body swaying precariously, looking as though he might tumble right onto the person next to him at any second.
Xia Xuan walked over, asked the others to make some space, sat down beside Tan Ze, and tapped his shoulder. “Tan-ge, are you heading home?”
“Let me take you back.”
Tan Ze remained motionless for a long moment.
It took Xia Xuan an immense amount of effort to finally extract an address from Tan Ze’s mumbling lips. He hailed a cab and dragged Tan Ze all the way to Bay View. Once they reached the base of Tan Ze’s apartment building, however, Xia Xuan hit a dead end—he couldn’t find an access card to activate the elevator anywhere on Tan Ze.
Having run out of options, Xia Xuan went to knock on the door of the night-shift security guard. After fumbling around through several rounds of phone calls, Xia Xuan finally received a reassuring confirmation: “Someone will come down to pick him up in a minute.”
Tan Ze wasn’t living alone?
That was Xia Xuan’s immediate, instinctive thought. He squatted down to look at Tan Ze, whom he had propped up sitting against the wall. The whole ordeal had left Xia Xuan drenched in sweat, and the chilly night wind blowing past the entryway ruffled strands of Tan Ze’s hair.
Annoyed by his own hair tickling his face, Tan Ze’s tightly shut eyes twitched, and he let out a very soft, faint groan.
Xia Xuan stared quietly down at him. Tan Ze was striking—especially his eyes, framed by thick, long lashes and deep pupils. When he looked at someone with genuine focus, it involuntarily evoked the image of a pair of wet, innocent doe eyes.
And right now, that little doe was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythms.
Smiling softly, Xia Xuan called out to him, “Department Head… Tan Ze.”
Tan Ze furrowed his brows, squinting his eyes open on reflex as he muttered, “Stop asking me to revise the project proposal…”
Unable to help his amusement, Xia Xuan raised a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from Tan Ze’s cheek. The moment his fingertip brushed against Tan Ze’s soft skin, the elevator behind him chimed with a crisp ding.
At the sound, Xia Xuan looked up—and locked eyes directly with Liang Xubai, who was dressed in casual homewear.
Liang Xubai was wearing a black short-sleeved tee and long trousers, his hair still damp with moisture as if he had just stepped out of the shower. His expression was cool and collected as he looked down at Xia Xuan, then glanced past him at the unconscious Tan Ze sprawled on the floor.
“…Senior?” Seeing Liang Xubai, Xia Xuan’s pitch shifted in sheer disbelief.
Liang Xubai still vaguely remembered Xia Xuan, even if he couldn’t recall his exact name. He gave a brief nod and stepped forward.
Instinctively, Xia Xuan stood up and took a half-step back, clearing a path for Liang Xubai while opening his mouth as if to say something.
Instead, he watched Liang Xubai bend down, slide an arm beneath the bends of Tan Ze’s knees, lift him effortlessly into his arms, and turn toward the elevator.
Right up until Liang Xubai carried Tan Ze into the elevator and vanished from his sight, Xia Xuan felt like he was trapped in a surreal dream.
Tan Ze—the very same Tan Ze who treated Liang Xubai like a thorn in his side and an absolute enemy.
Was living together with Liang Xubai.
It took Xia Xuan a very long time just to buffer and process that reality.