Chapter 108 Part 1

Gu Liuguang had rarely done outdoor streams before. Today’s stream was meant to stir up some hate, so she didn’t pay much attention to the camera.

She often forgot about the phone camera, wandering around for a while before picking up the phone again and aiming it at the singer in the small square.

Gu Liuguang hadn’t heard most of the songs the other woman sang. She only recognized one or two during their choruses.

After listening to two songs, Gu Liuguang finally turned her attention to the live chat. Many comments were asking who the singer was, and quite a few people recognized her as someone with a lot of fans on Douyin.

Out of curiosity, Gu Liuguang searched her up and found that she had two million fans. The viewers in her stream kept egging her on to go over and interact.

Before this, she had never even heard of the woman. She hadn’t come across her videos while scrolling, either. Approaching her now would be too awkward, and she didn’t need the exposure anyway.

Gu Liuguang was about to smile and refuse when something occurred to her. She changed her words: “Since you all want to see me interact with Qian Chi so badly, I’ll go over once she’s done singing. Sound good?”

The moment she said that, the live chat exploded like it was New Year’s.

During Qian Chi’s performance, plenty of people were filming her with their phones.

As soon as one song ended, someone rushed over with their phone, said a few words, and they started taking selfies together.

Gu Liuguang planned to wait until the crowd thinned out before approaching. She waited quite a while until the crowd finally dispersed, then immediately grabbed her phone, stood up, and headed over.

She vaguely sensed Qian Chi looking her way. As she stood and picked up her plastic bag, Qian Chi suddenly took off the guitar slung over her shoulder, smoothly blocking someone nearby who wanted to ask for a photo.

Taking off the guitar made it look like she was about to leave. Gu Liuguang took a few steps toward her and saw Qian Chi quickly set the guitar down and walk straight toward her.

For the first two steps, Gu Liuguang thought she had misread it. Once she confirmed Qian Chi was heading her way, she wondered if someone Qian Chi knew was behind her. She glanced back but saw no one special.

When she turned around again, Qian Chi was already in front of her, standing on the lower step and looking up: “Hi, can I add you on WeChat?”

Qian Chi looked even better in person than in her profile videos. She had a cool, androgynous vibe, appearing slim but with sleek, toned muscles visible on her sleeveless arms—powerful without trying too hard.

She didn’t use a guitar pick; her nails were grown out.

Her hands were beautiful—bony and slender. Even with nails, they didn’t look dirty.

Perhaps because Gu Liuguang hadn’t responded right away, Qian Chi continued: “Little Light, I’m a fan of yours. I really like you.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to add me. I’ve already sung the songs I wanted to sing for you.”

The live chat went wild again, spamming “Streamer succubus confirmed.”

Unfortunately, Gu Liuguang was holding her phone at her side, with the camera aimed at the other wooden benches on the same level. It couldn’t capture their expressions, only muffled snippets of conversation.

Soon, Gu Liuguang raised her phone, but the camera pointed at the ground, accidentally filming Qian Chi’s lower half.

“Sure, are you here in Sea City for fun too? We should hang out sometime.”

“I’m from Sea City. I know all the spots. Wherever you want to go, I can take you.”

They quickly added each other as friends. Only then did Gu Liuguang remember she was still streaming. She picked up her phone, gave Qian Chi a quick explanation, then smiled at the chat: “That’s it for today’s stream, everyone. I’ll go live again depending on the situation later.”

“Bye-bye.”

With that, she ended the stream, turned to meet Qian Chi’s gaze, looked her up and down for a moment, and smiled: “Do you usually stream too?”

Qian Chi’s cheeks flushed a little. She seemed reluctant to meet Gu Liuguang’s eyes and looked instead at her setup in the square: “I don’t usually stream.”

“Being in front of a camera makes me feel like I’m not myself.”

Gu Liuguang laughed: “How can you not be yourself?”

Qian Chi hummed in agreement, looking a bit dazed: “It’s like being a puppet held up by the audience, performing whatever they want to see.”

Gu Liuguang tried to understand but couldn’t quite get it. The System chimed in her mind: it would show her Truman’s World when they got back, and she’d understand.

They chatted a bit more. Unlike her streaming enthusiasm, Qian Chi came off as somewhat aloof now—like talking to a near-stranger.

This left Qian Chi a little flustered. If Gu Liuguang hadn’t suggested hanging out tomorrow, she might have thought Gu Liuguang actually disliked her.

Gu Liuguang didn’t go home. She bought a hat and a facekini at a nearby supermarket. September in Sea City wasn’t hot, but the facekini covered more than a mask, and she didn’t want too many people recognizing her.

She sat down somewhere random and watched until the sun sank into the deep sea, swallowing the last rays of sunset. Then she made her way back to the apartment, stepping heavily.

She grabbed a pack of instant noodles from the supermarket near the apartment, ate it sitting by the storefront window, and watched the movie the System had mentioned while eating. Once it ended, she suddenly got it and nodded in full understanding.

【Aren’t they just like that?】

Everyone was Truman. Except here, they would never discover the truth of the world.

The System felt like Gu Liuguang seemed a bit down, but when it asked, she said it was just that the plot tasks hadn’t advanced, leaving her feeling a little empty.

Back in the short-term rental apartment—which was clean, convenient, and spacious—it still felt lifeless.

After washing up, Gu Liuguang lay in bed and pulled out her phone to scroll Weibo. This time, she used a small account, mainly to check Lin Shixia and Ye Qingying’s updates.

Ye Qingying’s account looked normal at first glance, but closer inspection revealed differences. Her old posts had a strong personal vibe, full of her own emotions.

Now, her updates were all work-related, and her replies to fans were very official.

Lin Shixia, on the other hand, hadn’t posted anything new, which fit her habit of updating every few days. Even the Super Topic fans seemed normal.

There were no traces related to Gu Liuguang.

As she thought that, she swiped and saw Lin Shixia had actually updated.

Lin Shixia V: My little rose will never wither.

The photo showed a lush rose plant with blooms two or three times larger than ordinary roses.

Regular roses bloomed in June, but Night Moon’s variety was special—they flowered year-round, like they could never wilt, almost as big as a person’s face.

Gu Liuguang recognized this one. It was the rose she’d brought from Night Moon to C City, then back to A City. She remembered discussing replanting it at Night Moon with Lin Shixia.

Lin Shixia had been reluctant at first and worried about killing it, so they had it replanted. To avoid mix-ups, they marked this specific one.

From the background in the photo, it looked like it had been moved back to the apartment.

The System tsked in admiration: 【That’s so devoted. Seeing the object brings the person to mind.】

As soon as it said that, it realized it was a bad idea—worried Gu Liuguang might soften. Before it could backtrack, Gu Liuguang replied speechlessly: 【It’s just that this flower is too hardy.】

【Even after all that back-and-forth, it still hasn’t died.】

If it had died, she’d feel like the worst sinner.

Besides this post, Lin Shixia went quiet again. The top comments were still fan-controlled, making it look like nothing had happened.

Using her small account, Gu Liuguang liked the post and saved the photo. It was her “daughter,” after all—even if it was just a flower.

…

Over the next few days in Sea City, Gu Liuguang hung out with Qian Chi constantly. The other woman was clearly more innocent and froze for a long time when Gu Liuguang suggested hitting some wild nightclubs.

Gu Liuguang and Qian Chi streamed together occasionally. Every time, she made a point to act super intimate with Qian Chi.

So intimate that some viewers suspected she’d broken up with some off-stream girlfriend and fallen for Qian Chi instead.

Whenever she saw those comments, Gu Liuguang would scoot closer to Qian Chi and grin: “Nope.”

Because she was hanging out with Qian Chi so scandalously, her fan groups and Super Topic blew up. They accused her of getting arrogant now that she was popular, with her private life too messy. They ranted that if she kept it up, they’d unfollow and never watch again.

Others spoiled her rotten, saying Qian Chi was the bad influence— she’d never acted like this with Lin Shixia before. Besides, Gu Liuguang looked stunning now, with a natural, mature allure that was irresistibly captivating.

No one said it outright, but everyone figured she and Qian Chi had slept together. Her style had shifted from cute prettiness to every gesture radiating satisfied sensuality.

What really set off the fans’ outrage was when Gu Liuguang suddenly went live from a nightclub.

Everyone was used to her starting streams out of nowhere. Each time, her room shot straight to the front page. Anyone who’d watched her before couldn’t look away.

In the dim nightclub, amid blasting DJ music and clinking glasses, Gu Liuguang herself was a spectacle.

The beautiful girl lounged half-reclined on the booth sofa, her silky black hair spilling over her shoulders and neck, fanning out across the dark cushions. Her lips were stained red, her large, foxy eyes hazy and seductive, framed by thick lashes that made them deep and alluring.

Her skin was fair as jade, her features too striking. Within minutes of sitting down, men and women crowded around her, teasing as they poured drinks and held glasses to her lips. Soon, liquor wet her mouth.

She smiled and took the rim between her lips. Wine overflowed from her ruby corners, trickling down her chin to her pale neck and beyond, leaving glistening trails.

She’d barely had two sips when someone snatched the glass away, spilling the rest—some splashing onto Gu Liuguang. Her exquisite, luminous collarbone gleamed with liquor, sparkling like crushed diamonds under the club lights, tempting anyone to lean in and lick it clean.

“Liuguang, don’t drink the drinks here.”

Qian Chi slammed the glass on the table. Her furrowed brow showed her displeasure, her voice muffled by the deafening music.

Gu Liuguang, a bit tipsy, blinked hazily and looked at Qian Chi in confusion. She raised her phone toward her, then collapsed fully into Qian Chi’s arms. Qian Chi went rigid, not daring to move.

Like a kitten finally finding the perfect spot in human arms, she nestled her head in and refused to budge. The human, afraid to disturb her, froze in place.

She nuzzled twice in Qian Chi’s embrace. Not hearing her repeat whatever she’d said, Gu Liuguang’s attention shifted. Remembering something, she lifted her phone and struggled to focus her eyes on the chat.

The comments flew by in a dense blur. Feeling dizzy, Gu Liuguang frowned and stared for ages without making out the words. Anxiously, without thinking, she blurted: “Lin Shixia!”

The club music drowned her voice.

Snapping awake after shouting Lin Shixia’s name, Gu Liuguang quickly pressed the phone to her chest.

Her alcohol-fogged brain cleared instantly. Her back went cold as she realized what she’d done. After two seconds of thought, she shut off the stream.