After the dinner with her senior, An Mengyue walked along the tree-lined path in the neighborhood. The sky had already darkened, and the streetlights stretched her shadow long and narrow.
She stepped on her own shadow, humming a soft tune.
When she looked up, she inadvertently caught sight of a figure—she had lost count of how many times she had run into him now.
The man wore a black tracksuit, a cap, and earphones. Every time, she never managed to see his face clearly, but his tall frame and solid shoulders were truly eye-catching.
This guy seemed to come out for a run every night.
An Mengyue couldn’t help but tilt her head slightly. The man seemed to notice her presence too and slowed his pace.
Their gazes briefly met.
The light fell on An Mengyue’s face, outlining her striking features.
The man stood against the backlight, and this time again, she couldn’t make out his appearance.
Just for that one second, he averted his gaze, resumed his rhythm, and ran off in the opposite direction.
It was the summer before her junior year. An Mengyue didn’t want to go back to Canada, so at the request of a senior from her school, she took a summer job at Tangyu Media.
Senior Zhu Wenwen had already graduated and worked as an operations manager at the company. Despite having countless fresh ideas, she had always been suppressed. Three months into the job, she didn’t have a single capable act under her belt.
The company had issued an ultimatum: if she couldn’t produce a decent girl group, she was out.
With no other choice, she had to call in her talented junior, An Mengyue, the campus belle of the music department at A University.
An Mengyue had zero interest in the job—it was purely a favor to help a friend in need. She treated it as a chance to practice dancing and kill time during the long summer break.
“Sister Wenwen, I can sing a couple of songs, but I really can’t dance…”
However, her senior was full of confidence. “You just need to stand there looking pretty!”
After a few days of dance training, “Mantang 2014” finally took shape. She debuted under the stage name Candy, but after just a few days of broadcasting, she was poached by veteran operations manager Wu Tao for “Wantang 2016.”
Recently, to align with the team’s style, she changed her name from Candy to Dongdongmao.
An Mengyue was specially recruited into the company and had only signed a three-month short-term contract. Wu Tao believed Zhu Wenwen had ulterior motives—that she wanted to use company resources to promote her own friend—so he remained wary of her.
As a result, she was assigned to the corner spot, with bizarre outfits every day.
She didn’t care at all. Every day, during her breaks, she would send gifts to her senior’s “Mantang 2014” team.
Saving her senior through a roundabout route.
While slacking off herself, she played the big spender in the livestream room.
She had to admit, being the top donor felt pretty great. Every day, the pretty girls in the room showered her with attention, and she had all the prestige in the chat.
And no one knew about it. Sometimes when she ran into the girls from her senior’s team, she couldn’t help but let out an extra chuckle. That feeling of “I’m right beside you, but you don’t know who I am” was just too fun!
Two days ago, she received her first paycheck—3,000 yuan, only enough to send one Huazi, but she didn’t mind. After all, the money her mom sent her was more than she could ever spend.
The next morning, after walking her dog, she leisurely took a cab to the company and sat in the makeup room, waiting for the stylist to “work their magic.”
Actually, the makeup artist had it tough too. People study makeup to make others look beautiful, but this livestream room had a clear requirement: the center position, Dai Daiyu, needed to be the absolute visual focus.
The other girls just needed a normal touch-up, but this An Mengyue would steal the spotlight even with minimal makeup, so they had to make her look plainer instead.
After going live, the viewership stabilized at around three hundred people. During the small gift and dance request segment, An Mengyue basically only needed to maintain a standby pose with a smile on her face.
Around 5:30, the arena PK battle segment began.
Two streamers faced off on the same stage, with health bars displayed at the top of the screen. Supporters of the reigning champion sent little hearts, while supporters of the challenger sent little notes. The winner held the arena, and others could challenge. The highest win streak would become the day’s MVP.
This mode hadn’t been unlocked for long on “Wantang 2016,” and the highest win streak was Dai Daiyu’s 36 consecutive wins.
As soon as Dai Daiyu took the stage, she entered her Absolute Territory.
In no time, she reached nine consecutive wins. An Mengyue stepped up to challenge. Just as the music started, she heard Shark’s sycophantic voice: “Welcome, our President Ku has graced us with his presence!”
Dai Daiyu clapped excitedly, waving her arms nonstop, afraid he might not see her.
An Mengyue could already imagine how ugly this round’s results would be, but she gritted her teeth and continued dancing.
“President Ku, Little Fish is on stage right now~ Send little hearts to support Little Fish, send little notes to support Little Cat. Family, ten-second countdown!”
Dai Daiyu was confident, looking like she had victory in the bag. In contrast, An Mengyue beside her kept her head down, scraping the floor with her toes.
Inner monologue: Let me go, let me go.
“Countdown: five, four, three…”
When it reached two, with the determination that death would come sooner or later anyway, she mustered the courage to face the verdict head-on—and saw her own health bar surge forward like an avalanche.
She froze on the spot. Was this progress bar reversed?
[User “Coolest Villain” sent little notes 1314*1] x18 x19 x20
An Mengyue tilted her head in disbelief, pointed at herself with her finger, then spread her hands. “Did he… send it to the wrong person…”
Shark widened his eyes, sorted out his thoughts, and organized his words:
“Uh, thank you to my President Ku for the 20 sets of 1314 little notes. But these… these… the notes are for supporting Cat Cat.”
The people offstage gathered together whispering among themselves. Dai Daiyu’s face couldn’t hold up, and she pouted at the screen.
The two of them stood awkwardly on stage, neither knowing who should step down.
Shark could only explain again: “Bro, sending to Little Fish is little hearts! You sent the wrong one, and there’s no way around it. Then we can only congratulate Cat Cat on successfully seizing the arena!”
[Coolest Villain: Didn’t send it wrong]
An Mengyue drew in a sharp breath of cold air, watching the person beside her turn and step off the stage.
Just from the back view, she could tell he was angry.
With a nervous heart, she walked toward the champion’s seat, her mind racing at full speed, trying to figure out what was going on.
Did these two have a fight? Then don’t use me as a joke.
The next challenger took the stage, and the music continued without pause.
Countdown: five.
[User “Coolest Villain” sent “Dongdongmao” little hearts 1314*1] x18 x19 x20
Name called out explicitly, and this time it was sent to the reigning champion—so it really wasn’t a mistake.
An Mengyue’s gaze at the camera grew even more complicated.
Shark reacted immediately: “Thank you to President Ku for another 20 sets of 1314. Congratulations to Little Cat on securing two consecutive wins!”
After a full round, it was Dai Daiyu’s turn to take the stage again. The feeling of meeting on a narrow path—An Mengyue felt like the other’s gaze carried knives.
Managing her expression, she continued the PK with a smile.
[User “Wind Blows Longxi” sent “Dai Daiyu” little notes 1314*1] x7 x8 x9
Brother Feng arrived with an imposing presence, declaring his determination to reclaim the champion position for Xiaoyu.
With ten seconds on the countdown, the two stood still, staring at the big screen.
An Mengyue nervously rubbed her hands together. Whether the big shot was on which side would all come down to this moment.
Everyone else was also guessing what move Coolest Villain, the big shot, would make.
Three seconds on the countdown…
[User “Coolest Villain” sent “Dongdongmao” a heart 1314*1] x58x59x60
[User “Wind Over Longxi” sent “Dai Daiyu” a musical note 1314*1] x18x19x20
Once again, victory was secured by an overwhelming margin.
“Damn, congratulations to Maomao on a 6-win streak! Amazing, absolutely amazing!”
This was also the highest score their group had ever achieved since going live.
Seeing the huge gap in the numbers, An Mengyue covered her mouth with both hands, frozen for a good few seconds before snapping out of it.
Only after hearing Shark’s reminder did she quickly bow deeply toward the camera.
“Thank you, Boss Cool!”
Could this big shot really be here to support her?
But… why?