At 11:00 PM.
Qin Zhen edited a few food videos and posted them to his homepage.
A massive wave of netizens who camped out daily for his livestreams swarmed in.
[Damn, damn, damn! He actually showed up! He actually edited and posted to his homepage, he must have seen my private message! He’s so considerate, could he secretly have a crush on me?! (Bashful face)]
[Thanks, I’m very introverted, when I encounter a handsome guy, I don’t dare kiss him directly, I can only secretly lick the screen under the covers.]
[Ah, handsome! He has chest muscles, I’m leaning in to nibble nibble nibble, I’m frantically nibbling nibbling nibbling, I lick my lips, and keep nibbling nibbling nibbling.]
[Which company poured heavy money into this streamer anyway? His livestream duration is so short yet people are hyping him to the skies? And he doesn’t even show his face? Hunger marketing? I advise you guys to wait and watch a bit more, anyway I still prefer the stable one next door.]
[Watch and wait my ass, watching a video just costs a tiny bit of data, it’s not like it costs money, this bit of data this sister can afford, stop bitching over there.]
[Agreed! Apart from the internet, who else would be so kind as to let me enjoy my own husband’s-perspective cooking?? Those who don’t like it can hurry up and leave, nobody begged you.]
[Does anyone still not know what An looks like? I’m genuinely curious!! (Heart-wrenching and liver-burning)]
[Curiosity +1, judging by his figure he looks like the scarce ascetic type.]
[If he doesn’t want to show his face we shouldn’t disturb him.]
[Hahaha, am I the only one who thinks his face is really ugly, so he’s too embarrassed to show it?]
Qin Zhen had no idea that because of his ultra-short livestreams for a consecutive week, he had inexplicably gained a massive wave of traffic.
Right now, two things were fermenting in popularity on this video platform simultaneously, both involving a search for someone.
One was searching for what kind of trash this Qin Zhen who bullied Brother Xiaoliang was, and the other was searching for what divine entity this An who streamed for no more than 20 minutes a day was.
Under the manipulation of Zhu Chen and his group along with An’s inexplicable allure, the momentum of both heat spikes ran neck and neck.
Currently, quite a few new media companies were contacting An, attempting to bring a newcomer who brought his own traffic yet seemed somewhat unsuited for live streaming under their wing.
Especially after Qin Zhen posted the video, several companies caught the scent of the trending traffic and came sniffing around, among which was L&M.
Qin Zhen skimmed through a few comments and suddenly saw someone guessing that An’s name must contain the character “An,” or perhaps a homophone, because her intuition had never been wrong.
He pressed the keys and typed a few characters, wanting to reply with something, but after a moment, he deleted them one by one.
Switching interfaces, Qin Zhen looked through a few private messages and familiarly spotted the name of a certain company.
In his previous life, a year later, a certain company emerged out of nowhere, capturing 80% of the traffic in the livestreaming industry. Its numerous bloggers frequently broke out of their niches, receiving point-blank praise from mainstream media and nearly monopolizing the self-media market.
That company had even contacted Qin Zhen back when it hadn’t taken off yet.
Regrettably, in his previous life he was blind and ignorant, ignoring this dark horse.
If he remembered correctly, that company’s original name was called Hongmeng.
Half an hour later.
Qin Zhen finished his communications, tossed his phone aside, and stretched lazily.
Shen Jin’an hadn’t come out of the bedroom once since a little after 9:00 PM. Qin Zhen pondered for a long time and still couldn’t understand, baffled as to what this guy was pissed about again.
He covered himself with a blanket and flopped onto the sofa, thinking to himself that tonight he absolutely had to get a good sleep, otherwise if he didn’t sleep he really might drop dead from overwork like in his previous life.
Nighttime is when electronic systems are at their sharpest, and 999 was observing in secret.
It only saw long-limbed Qin Zhen tossing and turning under the quilt on the sofa, and after a few minutes, he irritably yanked the quilt off with a heave.
It watched quietly as Qin Zhen walked over to the bedroom door and muttered self-consolations, saying that if it was locked from the inside he wouldn’t bother, but if it wasn’t locked he would go coax him.
He gently turned the doorknob; it didn’t open.
He turned it again; still didn’t open.
Qin Zhen grabbed his hair in irritation and sighed, completely forgetting what he had been thinking just seconds ago, and raised his hand to knock on the door.
After a long dozen seconds passed, he prepared himself for Shen Jin’an not opening the door, turned around to grab the key from the drawer, and suddenly the door clicked open.
Dim light filtered through the door crack. Shen Jin’an had changed into an oversized T-shirt and wasn’t wearing pants; a pair of fair, slender, and straight legs rushed straight into Qin Zhen’s eyes.
Shifting his gaze upward, Shen Jin’an’s expression was indistinct in the dark.
He only asked in a deep voice, “What are you doing?”
Qin Zhen had no idea what was wrong with his brain, and instinctively replied, “Doing nothing.”
Seeing that the door was about to be closed again, Qin Zhen thrust his hand out and immediately propped it open to salvage the situation. “I have business, I do, don’t close it yet.”
Shen Jin’an was no match for Qin Zhen’s physical strength, something he had long since understood and given up competing against. He lowered his stern gaze, released his grip, and walked back into the room.
Qin Zhen followed closely from behind all the way to the bedside. “The stitches come out the day after tomorrow. Let me check your wound.”
Shen Jin’an frowned. “What?”
Qin Zhen figured Shen Jin’an might not hear very well, often failing to catch what people said clearly, and moved his mouth to repeat himself.
Suddenly, he heard Shen Jin’an ask, “Why?”
Shen Jin’an’s pitch-black, abyss-like eyes stared straight at him, yet within those cold eye sockets, his pupils flickered with a faint light, as if this answer mattered greatly to him.
Qin Zhen froze for a second, his throat swallowing involuntarily for an instant.
Amidst their mutual gaze, for a single moment Qin Zhen even thought the other person had discovered the mission on his body. He calmed himself for a few seconds and lied without changing his expression.
“No particular reason. I’m afraid you won’t take care of yourself.”
“Is it just for this?”
“Otherwise?”
Visually, the speck of light in that black pupil vanished once more, leaving behind a clean, handsome empty shell.
Shen Jin’an opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing. Uncharacteristically obediently, he lifted the hem of his shirt.
On the smooth, fair skin, several deep red scabs were glaringly exposed, and two stitches sprawled across it like a pair of crooked, writhing long worms.
Frankly, it looked somewhat terrifying.
Where the stitches hadn’t healed properly, they intersected with that thin layer of abdominal muscles, oozing faint traces of blood.
It was evident that he hadn’t cared for it properly, and it was equally evident that Shen Jin’an didn’t care about his own body at all.
Qin Zhen suddenly furrowed his brow, displeasure written all over his face. He truly couldn’t fathom what kind of living environment could cultivate Shen Jin’an to have such a personality.
Yet this action took on an entirely different meaning in Shen Jin’an’s eyes. He only felt that the other person’s concern was forced to begin with, and now seeing such ugly scars made it even harder to accept.
He abruptly pulled his shirt down, covering those wounds tightly, and averted his gaze so he wouldn’t have to look at Qin Zhen’s face.
The two remained silent for two seconds.
Shen Jin’an issued an eviction notice, saying in a cold voice, “Get out now that you’ve looked.”
Qin Zhen let out a dark-faced mhm, said nothing more, and walked out of the bedroom.
The door closed.
Shen Jin’an abruptly shifted his gaze back, staring fixedly at that closed door. The knuckles of his right hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly, though what he was thinking remained a mystery, his brows full of unbearable pain.
Listening as the footsteps outside the bedroom door gradually faded away, he took a deep breath, gave a self-mocking laugh, and sat on the edge of the bed with his head bowed.