Chapter 30
The man’s hot breath brushed against his neck. The boy’s face flushed at an alarming speed, his body suddenly going weak—he had to cling to Si Jingce just to keep from collapsing.
The sweet scent of osmanthus completely overwhelmed Yanyan’s usual grassy fragrance. Si Jingce didn’t even need to think to know—he must have snuck off to eat a bunch of pastries again.
“How much of the pastries you brought back did you eat?” Si Jingce asked. “Did you finish them all?”
Yanyan raised his voice, “I still saved a lot!”
…Wuu… there are only two pieces left.
Si Jingce: …
He clearly remembered the housekeeper had packed three full boxes of osmanthus cakes.
Yanyan’s appetite was honestly a bit shocking.
The boy shifted uneasily, yet the arms wrapped around him only tightened further, as if trying to press his whole being into Si Jingce.
So tight… so hot.
I can’t take it anymore…
“…You’re a bit noisy,” Si Jingce said.
Yanyan widened his eyes. “You’re so mean—why are you scolding a bird while hugging him?!”
He hadn’t said anything out loud!
The man holding him let out a low chuckle, the vibration in his chest clearly transmitted to Yanyan’s ear.
After laughing, Si Jingce rubbed his head, his expression turning serious. “If you see Doctor Chen again, stay far away, understand?”
He explained everything to Yanyan step by step.
“At first, he did help you with a way to ease the mutation period. But that’s one thing, this is another. Now he’s gone bad—he wants to take you for research.”
“You’re special. Some people will be afraid, and others will become greedy,” Si Jingce said. “If this secret gets out, it could cause serious trouble.”
“So for your own sake—and for other animals like you who can turn into humans—you must protect yourself.”
“Stay away from people like him.”
Yanyan hugged him tighter. “I understand. No matter where I go, I’ll stick to you, brother.”
Si Jingce paused, then added, “And don’t worry about being different from others… or feel like you can’t fit in.”
“Because you’re one-of-a-kind—Yanyan.”
They stayed like that, hugging in the living room for a long time.
Eventually, Yanyan’s arms went numb. He nudged him lightly. “Brother…”
“I want to register an account and stream with you to earn money,” he said, tilting his head up. “Let go first and teach me how to do it.”
Only then did Si Jingce release him.
Even he wasn’t sure what was wrong with himself today. Perhaps Doctor Chen’s sudden request had unsettled him—he found himself becoming overly anxious about Yanyan.
He picked up Yanyan’s phone and started registering an account. Yanyan watched eagerly from the side. “What did Mom say when she kept you behind earlier? They looked really angry.”
Could it really be because he confessed he liked men and got beaten?
The thought startled Yanyan. He grabbed Si Jingce’s hand, checking for injuries.
“It’s nothing,” Si Jingce brushed it off. “My dad was just a bit angry. Made me kneel for a few minutes.”
That sounded like a serious punishment!
Yanyan immediately grew anxious. “Do your knees hurt?”
Si Jingce stared at him for a few seconds, then said slowly, “It’s winter… the floor is cold and hard…”
Before he could finish, Yanyan was already trying to check his injuries.
“No wounds, don’t worry,” Si Jingce quickly stopped him from pulling at his pants.
“Really no wounds? Just hurts?”
“No.”
After asking several times and getting the same answer, Yanyan reluctantly believed him. “Alright…”
“If it really hurts,” he hesitated, “I can massage it for you tonight when we sleep.”
“I’ll be gentle.”
Teasing this little bird was just too fun.
“Alright,” Si Jingce said, holding back a smile as he handed the phone back. “It’s all set.”
Every big streamer had a few recommendation slots. He sent a message to the staff at Gemstone TV, and soon, a notification appeared in Yanyan’s account backend.
“Don’t check it yet,” Si Jingce said. “Have you decided what kind of content you want to stream?”
“What kind of content?”
Si Jingce opened the rankings and showed him stream after stream.
Luo Huoxi had his pet crow perched on his shoulder, playing a treasure-hunting game with it.
Bobo Mei only showed her hands, patiently teaching viewers how to crochet plush bags.
There were also streams for unboxing mystery boxes, dancing…
Until Si Jingce clicked into the last one—
Two men were intimately hugging each other. The taller one spoke to the camera: “One grenade for a princess carry, one rocket for push-ups, one deep-sea torpedo for a kiss.”
Right then, someone actually sent a “deep-sea torpedo.”
The two immediately kissed on screen.
Si Jingce: …
Yanyan: ??????
The little bird was deeply shaken. “This… is allowed?!”
The moment he finished speaking, the stream got banned.
“…It is allowed, but don’t copy it,” Si Jingce said. “You might earn quick money, but you’ll also get banned quickly.”
Yanyan roughly understood and began to think. “Then let me consider it.”
He could occasionally play games with brother, but aside from that, he had no clear idea what to stream.
“Next, you should also create a Weibo account to interact with fans.”
Si Jingce guided him through registering one.
Yanyan picked it up quickly and immediately followed Si Jingce’s account.
After scrolling for a bit, aside from stream announcements, the page was basically filled with posts showing off his pet little pearl bird.
“You can check private messages occasionally. Once your fanbase is big enough, you can also create a super topic,” Si Jingce said. “Fans will post their drawings and fanfics there.”
Yanyan casually tapped into Si Jingce’s super topic.
Si Jingce suddenly fell silent.
If he remembered correctly… there should still be—
“Wait—!”
Before he could stop him, Yanyan had already seen that image—
A caramel-haired boy, eyes brimming with tears, his body covered in bite marks and ambiguous traces, clinging weakly to the man in front of him.
Yanyan’s eyes widened.
“This is… me and you?!”
His head buzzed.
This kind of thing can be posted?!
And it doesn’t get banned?!
You humans really keep refreshing a bird’s worldview again and again.
Si Jingce took his phone and exited the page.
“Occasionally,” he said stiffly, “they draw… unexpected things.”
There were even more explicit ones a few days ago.
That image had already lodged itself firmly in Yanyan’s mind.
He glanced down at his own body.
He didn’t think he could even bend into poses like that.
And… the other person was brother.
Seeing explicit fanart of yourself together with the other party was just too awkward. Si Jingce pretended nothing had happened and said, “That’s roughly it. I’ll teach you the rest once you’re ready to officially start streaming.”
“Have you decided what you want to stream?”
Yanyan slowly snapped back to reality, his cheeks still warm.
“Can I do snack reviews or food reviews?”
Then he could eat even more delicious things!
It was a good idea—but it might be hard to meet the required streaming hours each month.
Si Jingce planned to talk to Gemstone TV staff again to see if they could lower the minimum hours requirement.
He sent a message to the staff, then noticed Yanyan staring blankly at the table.
“If we buy snacks… it might cost a lot of money.”
And they couldn’t just review ordinary food. The more novel and harder-to-get items were what attracted viewers.
Si Jingce comforted him, “It’s fine. Everything is difficult at the beginning. Once you build it up, brands will naturally come to you for promotions.”
But the initial investment would still be large.
Yanyan glanced at him and suddenly said, “Brother, can I borrow some money from you?”
Si Jingce was silent for a moment. “You don’t need to borrow.”
Back when Yanyan was still a bird assistant streamer, Si Jingce had already set aside a share of the streaming income for him.
Plus the gold bar Gui Yaying had given him earlier, and the check Si De threw at him today—even after spending, there would still be plenty left.
Before Si Jingce could find the check from this morning, Yanyan had already taken out a piece of paper and started writing an IOU on the table.
The boy frowned slightly, gripping the pen awkwardly. Whenever he didn’t know a character, he substituted it with pinyin.
After finishing, he turned and asked, “Do I need to press a fingerprint too?”
Si Jingce: “…Yes.”
Yanyan rummaged through the drawer, found a red ink pad, thought for a moment, and turned into a round little chubby bird, hopping onto the table.
Fingerprints were hard to distinguish—he could use a bird paw print!
“Chirp!”
The pearl bird lifted its claw, stepped into the ink pad, staining it red.
Then it stomped firmly onto the IOU, leaving a tiny bird claw print on the white paper.
Done!
The little bird grabbed the IOU—bigger than himself—and struggled to lift his head toward Si Jingce.
“Chirp chirp!”
Brother, take a look!
“You didn’t have to write an IOU,” Si Jingce said, picking up the chubby bird and wiping his claws clean with a wet wipe.
After making sure there were no red marks left, he picked up the paper.
[Because Yanyan needs livestream startup funds, I am borrowing from brother to buy the following items: computer 1,000,000 yuan, camera 20,000 yuan, various snacks 1,500,000 yuan… When Yanyan has money, he will pay brother back OVO! Brother don’t worry, Yanyan will definitely repay it!]
Si Jingce: …
He was nearly blinded by the mix of pinyin and numbers.
It was obvious Yanyan had no concept of money—the amounts looked completely random.
He held up the paper and showed it to the little bird in his palm. “You don’t recognize half these characters, and you still mix up pronunciation. Looks like I really need to tutor you properly in your spare time.”
At this level, even passing IELTS and going abroad for university would probably take years.
“The format is also wrong. It has no legal validity.”
“And…”
Si Jingce looked at the amounts and couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation.
“Baby, if I were a bit less kind and added huge interest to this… and you couldn’t repay it…”
“Wouldn’t you have to give yourself entirely to me?”
The little bird leaned forward to look at the numbers, tilting his head in confusion.
“Chirp?”
But he was already brother’s little pearl bird.
If he had to give himself entirely to brother…
What would that even mean?
