Chapter 28
With only a month left until the New Year, every industry was bustling with year-end activities. Even Ti Nanyi, for some unknown reason, stopped bothering Ti Xiao and instead buried herself in writing, chewing on her pen as she worked.
Still, she made sure to pester Ti Xiao every day, nagging him to attend her parent-teacher meetings.
Recently, Ti Xiao had been happily mooching off meals, enjoying proper food three times a day.
He bought groceries, Xiao Yao would cook after work, and Ti Xiao helped with the dishes — their relationship naturally growing closer.
This routine even helped Ti Xiao kick his habit of staying up late, since he had to wake up early to get fresh vegetables at the market.
Of course, on the nights he streamed until the early morning, he sometimes overslept and missed the chance to buy groceries.
Magic Conch: “Ahhh, I just woke up! I forgot to buy groceries… what should I do?”
Past: “It’s okay, I already bought them. Just freshen up and come over.”
“How did you know I didn’t buy groceries today?” Ti Xiao mumbled through a mouthful of food.
“Maybe we’re just connected,” Xiao Yao chuckled.
Ti Xiao laughed, a bit embarrassed, but quite satisfied with the answer.
What Ti Xiao didn’t know was that Xiao Yao watched every single one of his streams, staying until the very end no matter how late it got.
He also had a clear grasp of Ti Xiao’s habits — if he streamed that late, there was no way he’d be up early.
“You should try to rest earlier,” Xiao Yao yawned, ladling himself a bowl of soup.
During last night’s stream, Ti Xiao had once again mentioned his “rich neighbor,” and his fans eagerly explained just how expensive the gifts he received were. It made Ti Xiao feel uneasy accepting such pricey gifts without reason.
As for the message “Aren’t you going to ask?” — it seemed to have been deliberately ignored.
Thinking of this, the ladle clinked against the bowl with a clear ding—.
“By the way…” Ti Xiao hesitated before speaking up, “That condenser mic you gave me… was it expensive?”
“It wasn’t too pricey,” Xiao Yao answered without even blinking.
“Oh, okay.” Ti Xiao nodded. “What about your mic? I haven’t seen it.”
“It’s in my bedroom,” Xiao Yao said, glancing at him. “Do you want to take a look?”
“No, no, I was just asking casually,” Ti Xiao deflated, waving his hand.
After all, the price of that mic wasn’t exactly small change. Most people would double-check the order several times to make sure they didn’t accidentally buy the wrong one.
And even if he did accidentally buy an extra, why give something that expensive to a neighbor instead of just returning it?
Although Ti Xiao suspected Xiao Yao might be interested in him, it was just a guess — he wasn’t a mind reader.
Seeing Ti Xiao looking so troubled, lips pursed in frustration, Xiao Yao couldn’t resist teasing him. “Who told you the mic was expensive?”
“Huh? My fans,” Ti Xiao blurted out without thinking.
“Fans?” Xiao Yao raised an amused brow.
“Uh, yeah. I paint oil paintings and post photos of them on Weibo. Over time, I’ve gathered a few thousand followers. That’s all there is to it,” Ti Xiao’s brain kicked into overdrive, scrambling to cover for himself.
His explanation sounded so reasonable that he almost believed it himself.
However, Xiao Yao saw right through him, and with just three simple words, he sent Ti Xiao spiraling back into distress.
“Mutuals?”
“……”
He originally wanted to probe Xiao Yao for answers, but somehow ended up trapping himself instead…
“Let’s eat. The food’s getting cold,” Xiao Yao smoothly changed the subject, letting Ti Xiao off the hook — for now.
If he teased him any further, he might actually burst out laughing.
Meanwhile, Ti Xiao’s heart was still pounding like crazy as he tried to salvage the situation. “I just… sometimes post pictures on Weibo…”
But saying that only reminded Xiao Yao of a tragic night not long ago.
That was the night Ti Xiao posted five back-to-back “thirst traps” on Weibo. His loyal fan Xiao Yao saw the posts before bed and tossed and turned for hours, unable to sleep until the middle of the night when his brain finally cooled down.
And when he finally did fall asleep, a certain little troublemaker waltzed right into his dreams.
Fine, dream invasions happen. But that little troublemaker refused to behave even in the dream, whining and moaning all night long.
The next morning, Xiao Yao dragged himself to work in a miserable state. Dark circles ruined his handsome face, and he messed up reading multiple lines during morning class.
Remembering the sleepless torment that little sprout had caused, Xiao Yao couldn’t help feeling a little vengeful — and tempted to set another trap.
“How’s the mic? Working well?” Xiao Yao asked out of nowhere.
Ti Xiao answered without thinking, “Oh, yeah! It’s great, the sound quality’s really good.”
Xiao Yao nodded, eyes glinting. “What do you need a mic for? Are you streaming?”
Ti Xiao, halfway down the path of Xiao Yao’s carefully laid trap, suddenly froze, completely lost.
It was hilarious.
Xiao Yao’s shoulders shook as he finally broke into laughter. “Never mind, never mind. Let’s eat.”
Ti Xiao didn’t dare ask why he was suddenly laughing. He just shrank in on himself like a frightened quail, nibbling cautiously at his food, desperately trying to keep his secret identity under wraps.
Little did he know, he was already stripped bare — only a single thread of dignity left.
That night, Ti Xiao lay in bed, tossing and turning, agonizing over whether or not he’d blown his cover.
His main job was drawing R18 BL comics. When he had extra time, he’d take on commercial or private illustration commissions. A lot of people thought it was an unserious career, but Ti Xiao genuinely loved and was passionate about his work.
He even occasionally posted explicit art threads on Weibo — sometimes five in a row. He’d even faceplanted a few times.
He was terrified that Xiao Yao might look down on him for it.
The whole “2D persona” thing was something he tried to keep tightly under wraps, terrified of the embarrassment if people in his real life ever found out.
When Ti Nanyi first discovered his secret identity, he’d chased her for three whole blocks with a comic book, fully intent on bashing her over the head to silence her.
After spiraling for hours, he gave up on sleep, shot upright, and posted on Weibo to ask his most trusted confidants — his fans.
Genius Brave Big Achoo: “If the person you liked found out you drew BL comics… and posted NSFW content… what do you think they’d do?”
Ti Xiao’s fans were all as chaotic as him — every single one a night owl. The comments rolled in seconds after he posted.
“Who? Your neighbor that gave you the mic?”
“The one who feeds you and then ghosts you?”
“The tall snack who buys you oranges?”
“The one who buys you snacks and makes you soup?”
“The one who hugs you, kisses you, and takes advantage of you?”
“Your long-term meal ticket?”
The fans kept piling on comments, one after another, quickly racking up nearly a hundred replies. Everyone was busy interrogating Ti Xiao about who this mystery man was — not a single person actually addressed the question he’d asked.
Ti Xiao had hoped his fans would light the way for him like a guiding star, but instead, they all transformed into nosy little blue cats, bombarding him with an endless stream of questions.
They were asking a lot, sure. But they were all asking about the same person.
From their first meeting to now, bit by bit, they had unknowingly seeped into each other’s lives. Traces of the other lingered in even the smallest moments, and somehow, they’d become an irreplaceable part of each other’s days.
“Honestly, Achoo, from what you’ve told us, this guy sounds like a rare gem. You shouldn’t be scared — just go for it. If he really likes you, he’ll accept all of you, no matter what. And besides, this is your job! You’re not stealing or hurting anyone, you’re making an honest living with your own skills. We support you all the way! [Minion Happy Dance GIF]”
Among the dozens of bantering, chaotic comments, one fan left a long, heartfelt reply — a refreshing stream of clarity.
Ti Xiao read that comment over and over, gradually piecing things together in his heart.
Xiao Yao had looks, a great figure, and on top of that, he was a foreign-educated returnee. No matter where he went, he’d be in high demand. Just from that New Year’s dumpling-making event in their community, it was obvious — the way the older folks practically shoved their children at him, like they wanted to snatch his household registration and drag him straight to the civil affairs office.
And that blonde, green-eyed girl from a few days ago? Her gaze screamed one thing — love.
With tiny heart emojis floating around the word.
While Ti Xiao was caught up in his thoughts, Xiao Yao was using Ti Xiao’s Weibo as his bedtime reading. He happened to scroll across that very post.
His fingers swiped down the screen, and each speculative comment made the corners of his mouth curl higher and higher. It was funny, how he had so many descriptors tied to his name.
But honestly, he only wanted one. One singular, irreplaceable descriptor — the kind that spanned heaven and earth, and belonged only to him:
“Little Ponytail’s.”
His phone battery was running low. Xiao Yao thought about it for a second and decided to mess with him a bit more. He mimicked the tone of Ti Xiao’s fans and left a comment.
After sending it, he sat up, eyes fixed on the screen, waiting.
The comment lit up Ti Xiao’s screen like a beacon, and his eyes immediately sparkled.
Xiao Yao waited, nearly nodding off, until his phone buzzed a few times.
Mystic Conch: “Uh, Xiao Yao, are you still awake? I… I kind of want to talk to you about something…”
