Chapter 36
Seeing the vivid expression on the boy beneath him, Si Jingce raised an eyebrow. “Finally figured it out?”
Faster than he expected—only half a day.
“You lied to me.” Yanyan looked like he was about to cry. “You even kissed me extra times, and made me help you scroll your phone and massage you.”
Si Jingce slowly released his hand. A faint red mark remained on the boy’s delicate wrist. He glanced at it briefly before looking back at Yanyan’s face.
“I’ll apologize first—it’s true I tricked you,” Si Jingce said slowly. “But later on, I kept telling you there was no need to compensate. You were the one insisting on it.”
Yanyan blinked blankly.
That… did seem to be the case.
Si Jingce had even tried to deduct more counts for him—but he refused.
“I don’t care.” Yanyan turned his head away, refusing to look at him. “Humans talk in such roundabout ways. What bird can understand that?”
“I want a reward. Give me my reward!”
There was a hint of laughter in Si Jingce’s eyes. “You have to tell me clearly what reward you want.”
Yanyan said righteously, “I haven’t thought of it.”
“You… can’t you think of one yourself?”
“I already have,” Si Jingce said gently. “But preparing it will take some time. Can you wait a little longer?”
This reward needed a proper setting, the right timing—important for both him and Yanyan.
So it wouldn’t be easy to prepare.
“I still have to wait?” Yanyan grew anxious, full of curiosity. “Then I’ll only stop being angry when you give it to me.”
“My anger level is still at 80!”
Si Jingce: “I’ll do it as soon as possible.”
He even gave himself an “anger level.”
He still hadn’t moved away, keeping Yanyan pinned beneath him.
“Then can I kiss you now?”
Yanyan hesitated. His face turned bright red as he whispered, “You… you can.”
The goodnight kiss was something he had asked for. He liked being kissed by brother, so it didn’t count as being taken advantage of.
Brother also liked kissing him, so that didn’t count either.
Therefore, kissing was a mutually beneficial thing!
He closed his eyes and tilted his head up. “Go ahead.”
Darkness filled his vision, but the expected kiss didn’t come for a long time.
“Brother?”
Yanyan called softly. The next moment, a gentle kiss landed at the corner of his lips.
His heart trembled. His breathing quickened unconsciously, even his eyelashes quivering.
Their breaths and heartbeats tangled together—it was impossible to tell whose was stronger.
Even after they parted, Yanyan’s mind was still dazed.
“Okay… now my anger level is 70,” the boy said, licking his lips, still savoring the feeling.
Si Jingce finally let him go and lay beside him.
Yanyan touched the spot that had just been kissed, an uncontrollable silly grin spreading across his face.
Cough… no, that won’t do.
The little bird immediately put on a serious expression. He couldn’t be too silly, or he’d get bullied by Si Jingce again.
He poked the man’s chest. “To show that I’m still very angry, I’m going to sleep in my bird nest tonight!”
Si Jingce: “Are you sure? Ever since you turned human, you haven’t slept there. It’s cold and hard.”
Yanyan: ?
“Are you underestimating a bird’s nest-building ability?”
Si Jingce said nothing.
Soon after, the blanket beside him emptied. A round little pearl bird popped out and bumped its fluffy body against Si Jingce’s face, grumbling in its mind—
[I’ll knock you out… knock you out…]
Instead of being hurt, Si Jingce found him adorable and grabbed the little bird, planting a big kiss on it.
“Chirp!”
The pearl bird shrieked, quickly struggling free and darting out through the small door on the room—formerly for cats, now for birds.
The moment he got out, he regretted it.
The floor was cold. The room was cold. Nothing compared to the warmth of the bed.
Si Jingce waited quietly for a moment. Soon, a faint sound came from the doorway.
The little bird hurried back, diving into the blanket and turning back into a naked boy.
Yanyan burrowed into his arms, shivering. “Forget it… I’ll sleep here tonight. My anger level is now 50.”
“C-Can you hug me tighter first!”
Si Jingce felt the smooth warmth of his skin and endured it with difficulty.
“Put your clothes on first.”
Yanyan still hadn’t realized that, not wearing any clothes and diving straight into the arms of someone harboring improper intentions toward him, was actually a very dangerous thing.
Si Jingce’s tone became slightly more serious, which resulted in Yanyan waking up the next day as a puffed-up, sulking little bird again.
The two of them slept all the way until one in the afternoon in the middle of winter. They even lazed around in bed for another three hours. In the end, Si Jingce forcibly dragged Yanyan up to study English.
He opened the beginner vocabulary book he had just bought, tilted his head slightly, and looked at Yanyan. “Do you know how to recite the alphabet?”
Yanyan snapped irritably, “I may be a bird, but I’m not some illiterate bird that knows nothing!”
He rattled it off in one breath: “abcdefg…”
After finishing, still not satisfied, the boy asked, “I can sing it too. Do you want to hear?”
Si Jingce noticed his tone wasn’t great. “…No need. What’s your anger level today?”
Yanyan: “80.”
Si Jingce: ?
How did it go up again?
Yanyan glanced at him. “Whenever you give me my reward, that’s when my anger level will drop to zero.”
Si Jingce held back a laugh. “Then if I behave well today, can you lower it a bit for me?”
Yanyan huffed for a while. “Depends.”
After letting the boy do some simple exercises and roughly gauging his level, Si Jingce took out a middle school English textbook.
“You are now a glorious middle school chick.”
He handed the textbook to Yanyan, contacted the online tutor he had arranged, and began Yanyan’s English lessons.
Seeing the boy’s face grow even longer, Si Jingce quickly retreated to the study to start his own work.
He opened a bottle of yogurt and started his livestream, waiting for viewers to come in.
The man first opened his Gemstone TV backend and cleared out his messages.
He hadn’t signed up yet for the final selection of the Annual Star. The staff had been urging him nonstop, sending over a dozen registration links.
Si Jingce filled in the information, then casually browsed the remaining notifications.
Most of them were just recent event announcements, which he skimmed past—until he noticed an invitation to the Gemstone TV annual streamer gala.
[It’s that time again! The last few times lcberg didn’t attend because he doesn’t show his face. Will he go this year?]
[I heard this year’s gala is huge—fully livestreamed on-site, and they invited a ton of celebrities!]
Si Jingce opened the invitation and glanced at the location.
B City. It was snowing there.
He vaguely remembered… there was a famous restaurant in B City where you could see all kinds of ice sculptures.
This year’s gala also allowed each streamer to bring one guest.
A plan began forming in his mind. Just as he was about to think it through, he saw that Yunduan had posted on Weibo.
There was only one photo—him and Bobo Mei kissing sweetly, the diamond ring on her hand dazzlingly eye-catching.
The comment section was already filled with congratulations from peers. Si Jingce opened WeChat and sent him a simple “Congrats.”
When he opened the game, however, he found that both Yunduan and Bobo Mei were online.
Not out on a date, but playing games?
Si Jingce sent a question mark in Yunduan’s private chat, then entered spectator mode.
The two of them were wearing matching outfits, standing in an open area.
Recently, there was an in-game event—hidden Easter eggs appeared on the map, and collecting fireworks allowed players to set them off.
Yunduan had gathered a pile of fireworks and arranged them on the ground into a heart shape, encircling Bobo Mei.
The fireworks lit up. Yunduan quickly ran into the circle and made a blowing-a-kiss gesture toward her.
Si Jingce paused, then silently exited the game.
[LMAO this looks so elementary school-level romantic!]
[If I hadn’t seen that huge diamond ring on Weibo, this proposal would definitely get roasted.]
“…It’s nice,” Si Jingce said after a moment. “Pretty romantic.”
[So this is what romance looks like in straight men’s eyes (pointing)]
Attempting to learn from it but failing, Si Jingce returned to studying the annual gala invitation.
[I heard this year you can bring a guest, and they’ll cover travel and accommodation. They’ll even take everyone around B City for a few days—all expenses paid.]
[That generous? Gemstone TV must be making bank.]
[Yunduan and Bobo Mei both had invitation slots and put each other down. Luohuoji and Leidian saw it and did the same.]
[Ah… that’s a bit copycat behavior.]
[They’ve been secretly copying lcberg and his little brother lately. lcberg raises a pearl bird, so Luohuoji raises a crow. The little brother calls lcberg “brother,” so Luohuoji calls Leidian “brother.” A few days ago they even staged a whole scene where someone tipped him, Leidian got jealous and kicked them out.]
[Has Luohuoxi completely lost it because he can’t recover his popularity?]
[Ahhh don’t copy everything! Can he look in the mirror and see what he looks like—does he have even a fraction of the “little brother” vibe when he calls someone “brother”? QAQ]
Si Jingce reminded, “Don’t bring up other streamers. Mute anyone trying to stir up trouble.”
[Alright alright, forget him. So will lcberg bring someone along this year?]
[Will he bring the little brother? It seems like the little brother didn’t get an invitation.]
As soon as that comment floated by, Si Jingce had already quickly filled in Yanyan’s name.
“I’ll bring him,” Si Jingce said. “Yanyan has never seen snow. I’ll take him to build a snowman.”
A soft, glutinous little dumpling rolling around in the snow… he’d probably be even cuter.
[Really?! Then I’m definitely camping the livestream this time!]
He casually opened a combat mini-game and played absentmindedly, his mind filled with images of a camel-colored little chick flopping and rolling around in the snow.
Afraid Yanyan might get cold, he would also need to prepare something warm for the little bird to wear…
Just as he was about to think about how to knit a scarf for him, he noticed the barrage suddenly change—everyone was screaming.
[Ahhh cute Yanyan, long time no see!]
He instinctively turned his head—and saw a little pearl bird standing on the back of his chair.
Yanyan: “Chiu—!”
He had finally finished his English lesson, and it had made him so sleepy.
Why torture a bird by making him learn a language he couldn’t understand!
Seeing the man reaching out to grab him, the little bird tilted its head and hopped onto the desk instead.
“Do you want to watch me play a game?”
Si Jingce lowered his head and smiled at him, putting aside his thoughts and playing together with Yanyan.
The game was similar to Contra. Si Jingce’s hand speed was extremely fast, releasing skills and taking down enemies in quick succession.
The little pearl bird stood on the desk and watched for a while, quickly grasping the mechanics.
In the middle of an intense round, Si Jingce suddenly missed a skill.
The bird standing on the keyboard casually withdrew its foot and chirped innocently at him: “Chiu chiu?”
Si Jingce picked him up and placed him aside.
Not long after, he missed another dash.
This time, the pearl bird blatantly stood on that key, fluffing its feathers.
Si Jingce: …
He reached out to grab Yanyan again, but the bird flapped its wings hard, even stepping on his head before flying out of the study.
[I’m dying of laughter, today is an angry little chick.]
[Why is Yanyan so mad?]
Si Jingce touched the spot on his hair where Yanyan had stepped. “Yesterday… I accidentally bullied him.”
[I also like bullying cute little things, hehe.]
[He even knows how to get revenge. These poop-yellow birds are the most scheming.]
Before long, Si Jingce heard movement behind him.
The boy walked into the study, stepping into the camera frame, causing a small explosion in the chat.
He didn’t say a word, just sat down beside Si Jingce.
He was even holding a cup, which he placed heavily on the table.
[Today’s Sweet Donut little brother is especially grumpy too.]
How could he not be?
Si Jingce let out a small sigh.
Anger level 80.
Yanyan didn’t speak to Si Jingce either. He opened his own livestream.
Si Jingce asked, “Want to play a game together?”
“No.”
Yanyan snorted lightly, then happily greeted his viewers, “Good afternoon, everyone!”
[Ahhh good afternoon, little brother!]
[Is little brother in a bad mood? Feels a bit off.]
The little bird sneered. “Because I got bullied, so I’m in a bad mood.”
[Who bullied you? Your brother?]
[Bad brother! Bullying the bird and bullying the little brother!]
That’s right. Bad brother.
[What are we eating today? I’ve got my plate ready, slurp.]
“Not eating snacks today. I ate a lot yesterday, and someone won’t let me eat anymore.” Yanyan replied seriously. “Today I’m doing PK battles.”
Livestream PK was a common format—it increased interaction with fans and boosted popularity.
Yanyan had done his homework and was ready to win ten rounds in a row!
“You’re doing PK?” Si Jingce asked. “How about I accompany you—”
Yanyan shook his head. “No, I want to do it myself.”
The rookie selection was about to end, and he was still far from winning. Not to mention the Annual Star event was coming soon—Si Jingce would only get busier.
Si Jingce hesitated.
PK was indeed one of the fastest ways to gain popularity, but bluntly speaking… it was about who could shamelessly pull in more donations.
Yanyan’s personality—he talked a lot, yes, but only with familiar people. With strangers, he might not be able to push himself to ask for tips.
After hesitating for a long time, Si Jingce said nothing, quietly opening a small account on his phone and entering Yanyan’s stream.
You had to let him grow by giving him some space.
Yanyan quickly connected with his first opponent.
The other side was a girl, wearing delicate makeup and a fitted outfit. When she saw Yanyan, she smiled.
“Oh, what a handsome little brother.”
Yanyan froze for a moment, his cheeks flushing red as he shyly greeted, “Hello, big sister.”
That one “big sister” made her laugh.
“What should I do, I don’t even feel like competing with you anymore. If I make you cry, I’ll be in trouble,” she joked. “How about this—if you win, I’ll send you gifts. If you lose, can you give me your WeChat?”
[I want the little brother’s WeChat too!]
[Ahhh I want it too!]
On screen, Yanyan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay…”
Si Jingce: …
The PK began. The other side immediately started playing music. The girl danced while rallying support, her pitch smooth and continuous:
“Guys, send me some gifts! One from you, one from you—we can beat them!”
“Is there one more who can send a deep-sea torpedo? We’re about to win!”
In comparison, Yanyan’s side was much quieter. His face red, he couldn’t say a word.
Even when he received tips, he only stammered:
“Th-thank you [Yupo Bing] for the landmine…”
“Thank you [Hechuan] for the rocket…”
“Thank you [404532] for the deep-sea torpedo…”
Seeing Yanyan falling behind in PK points, one person suddenly started?? sending deep-sea torpedoes.
Yanyan glanced at the ID—404532.
He didn’t seem to recognize it.
In the blink of an eye, 404532 had already sent more than twenty deep-sea torpedoes, with no sign of stopping.
[Damn, where did this rich lady come from?]
[Not a rich lady—male! And a brand new account.]
“Th-thank you… 404532.” Yanyan snapped out of it, eyes wide as he said in a panic, “You don’t need to keep sending gifts, really, it’s enough!”
By sheer force alone, 404532 pushed Yanyan’s PK score to the top, directly defeating the female streamer on the other side.
Yanyan was stunned.
“Ah, I thought I’d be able to get little brother’s WeChat today.” The female streamer sighed in disappointment, but kept her word and sent a few deep-sea torpedoes to Yanyan.
After the first round, Yanyan’s popularity had already risen. 404532 firmly took the top spot on the leaderboard, far ahead of second place.
“404532…” Yanyan pressed his lips together. “Do you want me to perform something?”
Usually after winning a PK, the streamer would thank the big spender and maybe perform something for everyone.
Unexpectedly, 404532 coldly typed in the chat: [No need.]
[Where did this saint-like rich guy come from?!]
[His profile is completely empty, even the username is still the default!]
Seeing the comments, Yanyan asked again, “404532, you really don’t want me to do anything?”
[404532: No need.]
He silently memorized the ID, planning to send a small gift after the stream ended.
In the following rounds, every time he was about to lose, 404532 would suddenly appear and start sending gifts, helping him turn defeat into victory.
After another round ended, Yanyan didn’t rush into the next one. Instead, he clicked into 404532’s profile and examined it carefully.
Just like the viewers said, it was completely empty.
Every user had an IP location displayed under their name. Yanyan looked closely and realized—his IP location was the same as his own.
A suspicion quietly formed in his heart.
He turned his head to look at Si Jingce. The man was focused on playing a game on the computer, while his phone sat propped up on a stand, its screen not clearly visible.
With doubt lingering in his mind, Yanyan started the next PK.
404532 appeared again. This time, Yanyan didn’t say anything. As soon as the PK ended, he clicked straight into Si Jingce’s livestream in front of everyone.
Clumsily operating the mouse, he sent all the gifts 404532 had given him right back to Si Jingce.
[What kind of operation is this—earning money outside just to support you?]
[But not like this! Gemstone TV takes a cut!]
After he transferred all the deep-sea torpedoes to Si Jingce, 404532 showed up again, continuing to send gifts to Yanyan.
“Brother…” Yanyan gripped the mouse and looked at Si Jingce. “Is 404532 you?”
Si Jingce happened to lift his gaze from his phone. “Who?”
Yanyan turned the screen toward him and pointed at the top name on the leaderboard. “This one—really not you?”
“Yanyan has a wild fan now,” Si Jingce said, pretending to be pleasantly surprised. “You’re amazing. Unfortunately, it’s not me.”
His tone was gentle, like coaxing a child.
Half believing, half doubtful, Yanyan turned back and continued streaming.
The next time 404532 appeared, the boy immediately turned to look at Si Jingce.
The man had just withdrawn his hand from his phone—and on screen, 404532’s donations stopped at the exact same moment.
Yanyan: ……
[I’m dying laughing—go open lcberg’s stream and watch… if you’re not gaming, what are you secretly doing down there?!]
[Enough, enough! Stop tipping each other! Just send red packets privately—Gemstone TV takes a cut!]
Yanyan leaned over and reached out, snatching Si Jingce’s phone.
His own stream was still playing on the screen. When he exited, the homepage clearly showed that familiar string of numbers as the account ID.
[This is hilarious, lcberg—you’ve never used this kind of “coaxing a kid” trick on anyone else.]
[Screaming—little brother, why is your face red again—]
“Don’t tip me anymore.” Yanyan lowered his gaze, his ears so red they looked like they might drip blood. He said fiercely, “Phone confiscated.”
Si Jingce: “Then did I perform well today? Can you lower my anger level a bit?”
Yanyan couldn’t help but smile, but immediately straightened his face again. “No. It’s too wasteful.”
Since the money was basically going into his second uncle’s pocket anyway, Si Jingce didn’t care and handed the phone over.
Yanyan’s biggest flaw was that he hadn’t found his streaming style yet. Food streamers who did PK battles came fully prepared, practically risking their lives.
Their tables were piled high with food drenched in chili oil, stuffing it into their mouths nonstop for the audience.
Yanyan couldn’t do that, nor was it eye-catching enough. So in PK battles, he was always at a disadvantage.
Si Jingce thought he might stop there—but instead, he saw Yanyan start another PK.
He paused, then simply opened his main account and entered Yanyan’s stream.
The other side’s screen lit up. A pitch-black crow appeared on camera, staring curiously at the boy.
The moment he saw another bird, Yanyan perked up.
Soon, the crow was picked up and moved aside, and Luohuoxi appeared on screen. “Didn’t expect to match with little brother.”
Yanyan frowned and immediately tried to disconnect.
“Hey, hey, don’t…” Luohuoxi hurried to stop him. “I know I’m more famous than you, but you don’t have to surrender that quickly, right?”
Yanyan: “Who said I’m surrendering?”
He paused. “Say it—what’s the punishment?”
Luohuoxi smiled. “Nothing much. I just want to make friends. If you lose, can you stream with me for three days?”
Si Jingce’s fists clenched.
Yanyan nodded. “Okay. If you lose, you send me deep-sea torpedoes.”
As soon as he finished speaking, gifts on Luohuoxi’s side started pouring in rapidly. Even though his popularity had dropped after last time, he still had a group of loyal male fans.
Yanyan didn’t rush to rally votes. Instead, he stared curiously at the crow beside him.
The crow looked fierce, its feathers shimmering with a purplish-blue metallic sheen—but it didn’t look in good condition, appearing tired.
Something about this crow seemed off.
Luohuoxi laughed and moved the crow closer. “How about it? My crow looks much better than your brother’s pearl bird, right?”
The crow let out an “ah.”
Yanyan accurately translated the bird language—
“Hey, little thing, what are you staring at?”
Yanyan muttered, “Can’t I just take a look?”
Luohuoxi: “Haha, sure, look all you want.”
Yanyan: “Wasn’t talking to you.”
Luohuoxi: ?
Chat: ?
[Then who is he talking to, the bird??]
The crow immediately saw through him: “You can turn into a human? That’s amazing. I’m kind of jealous.”
“If I could turn human, I’d have ditched this fat guy long ago. He leaves his socks in the washing machine for three days without washing them. Just think how lazy he is—can’t even press the start button, makes me do it every day.”
Yanyan sucked in a breath. “That scary?”
Thankfully, Si Jingce was very clean.
Luohuoxi was dumbfounded. All he could hear was his crow squawking randomly.
“What the hell is going on?” Luohuoxi scoffed. “You can understand what the crow is saying?”
Yanyan: “Yeah.”
[That’s a bit exaggerated, isn’t it? Who can understand animals?]
[Little brother… this feels a bit fake.]
Luohuoxi clearly didn’t believe it either.
But then Yanyan said, “He says you don’t wash your socks and make the crow press the washing machine button every day.”
Luohuoxi: …
His expression immediately darkened.
[? He actually got it right.]
[Coincidence… probably…]
“Pfft, that’s all made up,” Luohuoxi said loudly. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t wash socks?”
Meanwhile, the crow continued complaining: “And that stupid cat he keeps—I don’t even want to talk about it. Always picking fights with me. I’ve plucked so much of its fur to stuff my nest and it doesn’t even notice.”
“Sigh, I can still control it now. But once it grows up, who knows—maybe one day I’ll end up as its meal.”
Yanyan continued translating: “He also plucked your cat’s fur to stuff his nest, and he really dislikes you keeping him and the cat together.”
[Luohuoxi, if you don’t separate the cat and bird, one day when you see feathers all over the floor, you’ll learn your lesson!]
[Seriously speechless. Still hasn’t changed at all.]
The chat on Yanyan’s side immediately started criticizing, while Luohuoxi’s side remained relatively calm.
Luohuoxi laughed. “Really? You guessed that too?”
[Top supporter: Then go check the crow’s nest?]
He was about to refuse, but the top donors all chimed in:
[Go take a look. We’ll send you some gifts after.]
Tempted by money, Luohuoxi hesitated, then went over.
Holding his phone, he walked up to the birdcage and reached into the nest.
Suddenly, his expression froze on screen.
He pulled out a clump of cat fur.
Both livestreams saw it, and the chat exploded.
[Holy shit, is this real? Can little brother actually talk to birds?]
[Isn’t there actually a profession like this… pet communicators?]
[…Before this I always thought pet communicators were scams targeting pet owners.]
Donations in Yanyan’s stream surged. Comments flooded in—
[Little brother, can you check my pet too? How much does it cost? I really want to know what it’s thinking!]
[Can you do cats? Dogs too?]
Yanyan’s eyes were overwhelmed by the scrolling chat. He stammered, “No need to pay, I’ll help everyone take a look later…”
It seemed like he had found a new direction for his stream. “I can read birds.”
“As for cats and dogs… I can try.”
This time, without Si Jingce stepping in, his PK score was already neck and neck with Luohuoxi!
In recent years, more and more people kept pets, and even a profession like pet communicators had emerged.
Most people thought it was a scam.
But only Si Jingce knew…
Yanyan could truly hear them.
He stared at the screen for a few seconds, suddenly realizing Yanyan might have found what he was good at. A faint smile appeared on his face.
“Wait, what?” Luohuoxi exclaimed. “You can really understand him?”
Now even he was curious. He brought the crow closer. “Then take another look… he’s been low on energy lately. What’s going on?”
Hearing this, Yanyan carefully examined the crow again.
It seemed like the crow hadn’t had anyone to talk to for a long time. After saying so much earlier, it now looked exhausted.
It lay there weakly, looking at Yanyan.
Yanyan pressed his lips together and asked softly, “Have you been feeling unwell anywhere recently?”
There was a… very familiar feeling.
“I’ve felt uncomfortable for several days,” the crow said. “No strength. Feels like I’m about to die.”
“My whole body aches. I don’t know if you’ve felt it… like my bones are about to grow out through my body.”
“It hurts like hell. I scratch the walls every day. I’ve gotten used to the pain, but it still feels awful.”
This was actually a crow in its mutation phase!
Yanyan’s eyes widened. Since he was still live, he couldn’t say it outright. He could only tell Luohuoxi, “He… he really is sick. Let’s exchange contact info and talk privately later, okay?”
Si Jingce watched as he proactively added Luohuoxi’s contact: …
After getting Yanyan’s WeChat, Luohuoxi smiled. “We’ll talk later.”
He glanced at the PK scores on both sides, his expression twisting slightly.
He had almost been caught up to by a rookie streamer!
Even though Yanyan had just showcased his special ability, he still couldn’t match Luohuoxi’s established fanbase, so his PK score lagged slightly behind.
If he lost, Yanyan would have to stream with him for three days.
Just a little more.
Si Jingce thought for a moment and decided to help Yanyan just a bit.
Just as he opened the donation interface, a message from Yunduan popped up.
[Sorry bro, I was out on a date with Bobo Mei just now, didn’t see your message.]
[How’s your confession preparation going?]
The chat suddenly froze, and so did Si Jingce.
He immediately closed the chat window at lightning speed and quickly replied: [I’m streaming.]
Yunduan: […………Then what about Yanyan?]
Si Jingce: [He’s right next to me.]
Yunduan: [……Bro, I’m sorry.]
Sharp-eyed viewers instantly caught on and flooded the chat.
[Confession? To who? A guy or a girl?]
[Damn, isn’t that a bit unprofessional? You were just flirting on stream a second ago?]
[Wait, don’t jump to conclusions—what if the confession target is the little brother?]
[Are you all so obsessed with shipping CPs that you’ve gone crazy? Coming out live on stream? Is that even possible in this country?]
[Why not! Didn’t a celebrity come out not long ago?]
“Don’t talk nonsense.” Si Jingce frowned. “I don’t like any girls.”
The chat acted like they didn’t hear him at all. It instantly turned into chaos, messy and heated, even dragging Yanyan into it.
[Are you and lcberg dating?]
[Who’s lcberg’s girlfriend? You’re with him every day—don’t you know?]
Yanyan stared at the comments, stunned for a long moment.
He wasn’t dating brother.
Brother… when did he start liking someone?
“Oh ho.” Luohuoxi was clearly watching the chat, as if he had caught onto something juicy. He directly asked, “Your brother has a girlfriend now—have you seen what she looks like? Is she pretty?”
Before Yanyan could answer, the chat fired back first: [Stop stirring trouble. What does lcberg’s partner have to do with you?!]
Yanyan couldn’t say a word.
Si Jingce liked someone, yet hadn’t told him.
He hadn’t even seen that person.
A sense of being left out spread through his whole body, mixed with an indescribable sourness—
If Si Jingce ended up with someone else, would he still want him?
“Don’t overthink it. I don’t like anyone else.” Si Jingce took a deep breath and held Yanyan’s hand.
The boy didn’t pull away. He just stared at him blankly.
Luohuoxi chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, continuing to stir things up and trying to regain face through Yanyan: “It’s fine, don’t be sad. Your brother found you a sister-in-law. You can just stream with me instead.”
The carefully prepared confession plan was suddenly thrown into chaos. With the chat and Luohuoxi fueling the fire, Si Jingce completely lost patience and turned on full chat mute.
Then he coldly looked at Luohuoxi on the screen. “Shut up.”
Luohuoxi: …
Yanyan looked up and stammered, “Brother… do you really have someone you like?”
“I don’t like anyone else,” Si Jingce said.
Yanyan didn’t quite understand.
The man glanced at the gift panel.
Besides the usual gifts, Gemstone TV had added some special ones—including the most tooth-achingly sweet one: [Heart].
One heart cost 52 RMB. When sent, it filled the screen with pink petal effects, and even added a little Cupid icon next to the sender’s name.
It was known as the ultimate gift for couples showing affection.
Si Jingce sat back down, topped up over twenty thousand RMB, and without a word started sending hearts to Yanyan.
Pink effects flooded Yanyan’s entire stream.
The boy’s mouth parted slightly, eyes wide, completely frozen.
Three minutes passed. Si Jingce didn’t stop.
Yanyan finally reacted, looking at him pleadingly. “Brother, don’t…”
But he kept sending!
After ten minutes, Si Jingce finally stopped.
Someone opened the gift panel and saw the number next to lcberg’s name—and couldn’t help gasping.
520 hearts. A full 520 hearts.
At that moment, a flashy streamer effect appeared at the top of the stream.
[lcberg: No girlfriend. Sexual orientation: male.]
Chat: ?
Just before the stream was cut off, everyone heard lcberg’s voice echo through the room—
“Yanyan, I don’t like anyone else.”
