After Si Yin finished unpacking, she found that Li Jue’s gift was a bracelet. A quick reverse-image search revealed it was worth nearly 500,000 RMB. Such an expensive gift required a photo first.
In the photo, she leaned against the headboard, revealing a slender, porcelain-white wrist adorned with the bracelet. Her long, pale legs were fully in the frame, and the high-angle shot captured a glimpse of her tiny waist.
After successfully sending it to Li Jue, she noticed a message he had sent earlier:
“I’ll teach her a lesson for you. When was that photo taken? Have you sent it to anyone else? Don’t trust people on the internet too much; they might use photos for malicious purposes. My point is… could you please not send them to others?”
The last sentence carried an inexplicable hint of grievance, as if he were accusing a “heartbreaker” of her ways.
“I only sent it to you!” Si Yin replied.
Having sent his message, Li Jue stared at his phone, his heart a chaotic mess of emotions.
Why hasn’t she replied? Was I too forward? We’re just ‘online friends’—will she think I’m overstepping?
His mind was in a whirl. He instructed his secretary to investigate Song Zhizhi; he’d heard Si Yin mention her before, and now he sensed the woman was trouble. Once that was settled, he received Si Yin’s reply.
She only sent it to me. She only sends them to me.
Before he could even process the thought, he started typing: Can you only send them to me from now on too? But he deleted it. He opened the photo. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his gaze darkening.
A second later, he frowned and began reciting the “Great Compassion Mantra” in his head to clear his mind. Only then did his gaze return to normal. After hesitating for a long time… his finger moved away from the “Delete” button and saved the photo to a private, encrypted album instead.
Si Yin watched the “Typing…” status flicker in the chat box until her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted off.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Drowsily, Si Yin heard knocking. She rolled over and went back to sleep. Song Zhizhi, however, wouldn’t give up. She kept knocking, her furrowed brows reflecting her inner turmoil.
Si Yin was acting very strange today.
Ever since Song Zhizhi became “friends” with Si Yin, everything had gone smoothly for her. She had transitioned to group streaming, moved from a crowded dorm into a single room, and by stepping on Si Yin, she had risen from obscurity to earning 10,000 to 20,000 RMB a month.
But today, she couldn’t even get into Si Yin’s room. Her frustration mounted, and her pounding grew louder.
Si Yin had no intention of sharing a bed. Knowing the plot, she had decisively changed her door code and taken back the physical key. She thought the knocking would stop, but the persistence was annoying.
Swish! Si Yin yanked the door open. “What do you want?”
Though it was meant to be a confrontation, her voice—thick with sleep—sounded soft and sweet, more like she was acting spoiled.
“Why did you change the code?”
“I should be asking you—it’s the middle of the night, why are you banging on my door?” Si Yin yawned, staring at her blankly.
Song Zhizhi felt an immediate pang of guilt. Her voice weakened as she stammered, “I… I was afraid you’d be scared sleeping alone, so I came to keep you company.”
Normally, Si Yin would follow her lead and let her in. This time, Si Yin didn’t give her an inch of face. “If I remember correctly, this is my room. If you want to sleep, go to your own. What would I be scared of? Ghosts? Or someone stealing my things?”
Caught in her own guilt, Song Zhizhi stopped pushing to move in. “Then go back to sleep. I’m leaving.”
As soon as Song Zhizhi walked back into the common dorm, a voice piped up: “Thought you were so close to Si Yin? Now that she’s ignoring you, I guess you have to come crawling back to the dorm like a loser.”
“Mind your own business! At least I make more than you. Unlike you, sending ‘thirst traps’ to old men every day—is anyone even tipping you?”
The original Si Yin was very dedicated, usually the first to arrive and the last to leave. Si Yin didn’t quite get the obsession, but she still managed to drag herself up using fifteen alarms on her phone.
The livestreaming studio and the dorms were in two separate buildings. Si Yin walked over with her eyes half-closed. The stream hadn’t started yet, but people were already there—some practicing dance moves, others chatting. When she entered, the room went quiet for a few seconds.
Everywhere she looked, there were long legs. She almost forgot that in this group, she was the only one at 160cm (5’3″); everyone else was around 170cm (5’7″).
Song Zhizhi arrived looking distracted. she hadn’t slept well, wondering why Si Yin had suddenly changed. Eventually, she told herself she was just overthinking it. By the time she wanted to approach Si Yin, the stream had begun.
Si Yin walked to the front row.
Song Zhizhi’s eyes lit up, but her movement faltered. Previously, Si Yin would always invite her to stand in the front together. Today, she didn’t. Was it because of yesterday?
It had to be. Yesterday, she had deliberately framed Si Yin by pushing her. Si Yin’s tear-incontinence kicked in immediately, and Song Zhizhi had seized the moment to hint that Si Yin was a “Green Tea” who cried over nothing.
As the stream went live, Song Zhizhi’s lingering presence in the front began to annoy the others. Noticing the viewer count rising, she shuffled back to her original spot with a dejected expression, looking pathetic for the camera.
She already had another plan in mind.
When the viewer count hit 1,000, a “Carnival” gift effect exploded across the screen.
[WY sent SY a Carnival ×1]
The number following the Carnival kept climbing until it stopped at 52.
[WY: Picking up the Princess for work.]
Fifty-two Carnivals—nearly 160,000 RMB.
Si Yin hadn’t said a word or danced a single step. Amidst the envious and jealous glares of the other girls, Si Yin remembered she had fallen asleep waiting for Li Jue’s message and hadn’t checked her phone yet.
She flashed a wide, radiant smile. “Thank you, Boss. You’ve always stayed by my side; you haven’t missed a single stream. I hope you’ll always be here in the future.” Her voice grew smaller, ending with a slight choke. When she looked up again, her eyes were brimming with tears.
Out of view of the camera, Si Yin had decisively pinched herself hard. Ouch! Maintaining this persona was way too difficult!
[So sweet! Can someone bring the Civil Affairs Bureau here so they can get married on the spot?] [Is that nickname really okay?] [What do you know? That’s Yinyin’s exclusive title.] [Is this just the agency self-tipping to create hype?]
Li Jue tipped every day, and these comments appeared every day. No one stopped them because the drama drove traffic. Soon, the viewer count broke 10,000.
Song Zhizhi was turning green with envy. Why couldn’t she find such a wealthy “Big Brother”? The other girls felt the same.
They remembered when Li Jue first started tipping; Si Yin’s private messages exploded. Song Zhizhi had complained to Si Yin about it, and Si Yin had helped Li Jue set his account to private. Now, no one could follow or message him. His follow list and following list contained only one person: Si Yin.
Soon, smaller gifts flooded the screen from fans and passersby.
[I want to see Yinyin dance ‘Wildcat’!] [Plus one! I’ve got my screen recorder ready!]
Once the likes reached two million, the host with the most gifts would perform the opening dance. Si Yin pursed her lips and asked in a delicate, tender voice:
“Boss, do you want to see me dance ‘Wildcat’?”
Almost instantly: [WY: I do.]
[Big Brother has spoken!] [Can Yinyin change her outfit?] [The host can do ‘Wildcat’? I thought she only did classical dance.]
Si Yin’s clothes were usually of one type: dresses or sportswear that covered her beautiful figure completely.
She didn’t plan on changing. She rubbed her cheeks. “Alright then. I’ll dance ‘Wildcat’ for everyone.”