YABE - 4

When the elevator reached the 23rd floor, Jiang Xu’s agent happened to call.

Stepping out of the elevator and onto the hotel’s plush, silent carpet, Jiang Xu made his way to his room. In one hand, he carried a plastic bag; in the other, his room keycard. He tilted his head slightly, wedging the phone between his shoulder and ear as he swiped the card to unlock the door and stepped inside.

The man on the other end of the line droned on with familiar reminders: take care while filming, set your alarm so you don’t oversleep, eat properly, and no matter how poorly your co-star performs, don’t be difficult.

At first, Jiang Xu responded with perfunctory grunts, but soon grew tired of listening. He switched the call to speakerphone and tossed the phone onto the bed. Placing the plastic bag on the table, he pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down a few mouthfuls.

The voice on the other end continued its litany, but Jiang Xu had already tuned it out. After tightening the cap on the half-empty bottle and tossing it onto the bed, he stood up and walked over to the bedside.

“Alright, I get it. You’re more nagging than my dad.”

Without giving the other person a chance to respond, he bent down, picked up the phone, and ended the call. Pausing for a moment, he opened Weibo and discreetly followed someone.

There was only one person on his follow list: ID LuckyCarp4YJ , with a profile picture of a cartoon girl hugging a rabbit.

Jiang Xu tapped into her profile, only to find that she hadn’t posted anything today. Her most recent tweet was from yesterday: [Lost the solo match, questioning life. Starting tomorrow, I’m ghosting my streams to cultivate immortality. From now on, I’m enemies with @JiangYujingSEER until death do us part.]

The man raised an eyebrow, surprised that someone who seemed to live on Weibo hadn’t posted anything all day.

Jiang Xu, the beloved “national husband” of the entertainment industry and the youngest-ever Golden Horse Best Actor winner at 25, enjoyed spending his downtime at home playing games when he wasn’t filming or attending events.

From online multiplayer games to console titles like PS4, from Sword and Fairy to MOBAs and indie games—he dabbled in everything.

One night, after wrapping up a long day of work and settling into bed, he was scrolling through gaming videos when he stumbled upon one that caught his attention.

The video had high popularity and engagement. As someone with a secret passion for all types of games, Jiang Xu naturally clicked to watch.

And just like when he used to play Overwatch , he couldn’t stop.

The uploader was a girl, playing an obscure puzzle-platformer. The graphics were somewhat crude, but the level design and traps were clever and fun. Combined with her lively commentary and uncanny ability to jinx herself—whenever she said things like “No problem,” “I’ve got this,” “Watch me show off,” or “This trash-tier boss”—she would inevitably die within thirty seconds.

Jiang Xu had only intended to watch for a few minutes before showering and going to bed. After a full day of work, he was already exhausted.

But when he glanced at the clock again, it was already 1 AM.

He had unwittingly watched the entire hour-long video.

He simply couldn’t stop.

Jiang Xu felt a pang of panic.

Curious, he ventured into her Weibo profile to check out her other videos. Scrolling through her feed, he discovered that she not only made videos but also streamed every night for about an hour.

He checked her streaming schedule and cross-referenced it with his own itinerary for the next day. Coincidentally, he had some free time during that slot.

With his mind made up, the esteemed actor clicked on another video and continued watching.

This decision led to a rather alarming sight the next morning when his agent and personal assistant, Zhou Yi, arrived at his apartment to wake him up.

The man lay sprawled on the bed, clad in white loungewear, his face as pale as his pajamas, sporting dark panda eyes and a look of utter exhaustion.

Seeing Zhou Yi enter, he weakly waved a hand in greeting before resuming his death-like pose.

Zhou Yi: “….”

Jiang Xu’s voice was hoarse, his usual baritone tinged with fatigue. There was something unexpectedly sexy about his disheveled state. “Alright, let’s get started. Cover those bags under my eyes, and then finish today’s schedule quickly. I only slept two hours.”

Zhou Yi’s lips twitched. “I understand the struggles of being a single man in your thirties, but can’t you show some restraint? Half the girls in China are calling you ‘hubby,’ you know.”

“…Just cover it.”

Despite his exhaustion, Jiang Xu still managed to perk up by 8 PM and eagerly logged into her livestream.

The girl’s camera was pointed at her desk, where her mechanical keyboard clattered away. “What do you mean, ‘am I going to die in Silver Tier?’ Am I even capable of dying in Silver Tier?”

Her words hung in the air for only a moment before the screen went black.

The chat exploded with comments. Jiang Xu glanced at the corner of his screen—she had not only died but also given up the first blood.

Perhaps spurred by the humiliation, she played brilliantly for the rest of the match. With her mid-lane intact, she roamed freely, racking up kills and carrying the game effortlessly.

At the end of the stream, she promoted Jiang Xu’s latest movie.

Jiang Xu: ?

Scrolling further back through her Weibo feed, he noticed several posts about him. Finally, it dawned on him: this talented gamer girl was actually one of his fans.

Unsurprisingly, after staying up all night watching her videos, downloading the game she played, and streaming until 5 AM, Jiang Xu had become a fan of hers too.

However, this person who usually posted several tweets a day not only skipped her livestream tonight but hadn’t posted a single update.

Just as Jiang Xu was pondering this mystery, a notification popped up.

[LuckyCarp4YJ: I’ll be interning this summer, so I’ll pause my streams for a while. Hope you understand, wawa.]

Ah, so she was off to her internship.

Jiang Xu suddenly recalled the girl from earlier, whose voice sounded vaguely familiar. Wasn’t she also interning?

________________________________________

At exactly 11 PM Beijing time, Wen Siyu finished her shower, dried her hair, and climbed into bed wearing her pajamas. Holding her phone, she fell into deep thought.

She tapped into Jiang Xu’s Weibo Moments, exited, re-entered, and exited again.

Should she add him as a friend or not? This question tormented her.

Her gaze lingered on the snowy mountain cover photo.

Suddenly, she remembered a poem she’d seen on Zhihu. Its final line resonated deeply:

—The one I love is separated by mountains and seas, yet mountains and seas cannot be bridged.

Leaning against her pillow, she exited WeChat, opened Baidu, and searched for images of the sea. Among the rows of photos, she chose her favorite, saved it, and set it as her new Weibo cover. She also updated her bio with the same line.

After finishing, she admired her new profile. Compared to her previous pink bunny-themed cover, her aesthetic had skyrocketed.

But as she stared at it, a faint, melancholic sadness crept in.

Wen Siyu decided that, to honor her current unrequited love for her idol, it was best not to add him as a friend. Setting her alarm, she tossed her phone onto the bed, pulled the blanket over her head, and went to sleep.

Ten seconds later, she abruptly yanked the blanket off.

Sitting upright against the headboard, she fished her phone out from under the covers and reopened the half-finished conversation.

[Siling: Do you think I’ve gotten handsomer?]

[Cold Person: ?]

Wen Siyu opened her Moments, took a screenshot of her new cover, then went into Jiang Xu’s Moments and captured his snowy mountain photo. She sent both images.

[Siling: Mountains and seas separate us, tragic heroine vibes incoming.]

Gu Yao responded with a voice message, her sarcasm dripping: “Right, and the male lead is obviously Jiang Xu. Your confession couldn’t be any less subtle.”

Another message followed: “Since when did you have his WeChat?”

Hearing this, Wen Siyu grew nervous.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“He’s in the crew’s group chat!”

“What should I do? What if he notices? Should I change it?”

“Should I add him as a friend?”

“I’m too scared to add him.”

“But I really want to! Jiang Xu’s WeChat friend…”

“Forget it, I’m too scared.”

“…”

Gu Yao: “I suggest you go to sleep now. Don’t let your idol see you tomorrow with those giant panda eyes.”

Wen Siyu: “….”

Though her body was exhausted and her eyes burned with fatigue, her mind remained hyperactive. Lying flat on her back, the moment she closed her eyes, Jiang Xu’s face—gradually disappearing behind the elevator doors—flashed in her mind.

—Mm, goodnight.

Frustrated, she scrunched her eyebrows tightly and refused to open her eyes again.

The consequence of her restless thoughts was a groggy start to the next day. Struggling to turn off her alarm and crawl out of bed, Wen Siyu stared at her dark circles in the mirror and regretted her late-night theater.

It was her first day interning on set, so she woke up early to prepare. After a refreshing shower, she looked much more alert. Biting into a slice of toast, she opened her camera app, leaned out the window, and snapped a photo of the bright blue sky, throwing up a peace sign. She posted it on Weibo with the caption: [First day of internship! Good weather = good mood :)] , then headed out.

________________________________________

Jiang Xu’s scenes were scheduled for the afternoon, giving him the rare luxury of sleeping in. He turned off all his alarms the night before, planning to sleep until 10 AM. But just before 9, his phone vibrated with an incoming call.

Jiang Xu: “….”

Picking up with little enthusiasm, Zhou Yi’s booming voice echoed through the line: “Xu, your scenes are scheduled for 2 PM. Don’t forget!”

Jiang Xu’s voice was still raspy with sleep: “If you knew it was at 2 PM, why are you calling me now?”

“I didn’t want you to forget.”

“You just wanted to ruin my sleep, didn’t you?”

Zhou Yi feigned innocence: “I’m reminding you ahead of time so you can prepare.”

“Fine, shut up and disappear.”

His peaceful slumber disrupted, Jiang Xu was irritated. Hanging up, he tossed the phone onto the bedside table and prepared to go back to sleep. But once interrupted, the comfort of sleep had already diminished.

Sighing deeply, he opened his eyes and abandoned his plan to sleep until 10. Instead, he grabbed his phone and opened Weibo. The first thing he saw was a familiar profile picture.

A new post with an attached photo, uploaded an hour ago.

Jiang Xu clicked on the image first: the sky was a vivid blue, streaked with wisps of clouds. In the center of the frame, a pale hand formed a large V-sign against the bright sky. A thin silver bracelet peeked out from her wrist, adorned with a small pearl charm.

[LuckyCarp4YJ: First day of internship! Happy because the weather is nice :) ]

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

Jiang Xu: “My fans can openly adore me, so why do I have to secretly follow her?”

A gaming otaku with a deep, velvety voice is just too sexy. Imagine Jiang Xu pinning you to his mechanical keyboard and growling:

“Let me destroy you.”

Ah—

Dead. I’m dead.