There were plenty of companies doing live streams in A City, and the city’s bar culture was famous nationwide. The surrounding chain restaurants stayed open until two or three in the morning, packed with groups of handsome men and beautiful women grabbing late-night meals.
The gossip about Black Tail’s love life spread so widely through their company for two reasons: first, news traveled fast among the company’s artists; second, the companies were all close by, so any explosive scandal quickly circulated among artists signed to different labels.
Once it spread among the artists, Black Tail naturally got notified. She was in the middle of a live PK battle at the time.
Someone also told Gu Liuguang about it. They said it wasn’t appropriate to discuss in the work group chat, and she hadn’t seen the private WeChat messages. It was only when someone pulled her aside at the company that she found out.
There were things even worse than mistaken identity. Gu Liuguang felt like she’d been hit by a bolt from the blue and was at a complete loss. “What should I do?”
The girl who told her was a newly signed artist. Even with Gu Liuguang’s massive traffic boosting her, she still lacked any big sis or big bro mentors. The people she managed were a motley crew, and even their group’s host was scheming to jump to another team. She’d planned to quit the group next month anyway.
Her own group was on the verge of disbanding, while Gu Liuguang’s was thriving. It was impossible not to feel jealous. She chose to talk to Gu Liuguang purely to see her squirm.
But after meeting face-to-face, she realized Gu Liuguang looked even better in person than on stream. Even the explosive videos and photos on her profile were already perfect, but offline, she was even more stunning—raven hair, snow-white skin, lips a soft pink, eyes blinking with a beauty that outshone any colored contacts.
Especially that flustered look—it quickly stirred pity in her. She coughed lightly, a bit unnaturally, forgetting her original intent to just watch Gu Liuguang panic.
“You’re not even acquainted with that Xi Xia. Even if Black Tail comes looking for you, what can she do?”
Once she started talking, the words flowed easily. The others chimed in to comfort her too.
“Yeah, it’s not your fault someone has a crush on you.”
“Let the host handle it. He’s not getting paid for nothing.”
Amid the chatter, Gu Liuguang calmed down a bit. She’d panicked because it came out of nowhere.
Plus, the System had initially worried she wouldn’t take tasks seriously, so it often showed her videos of consequences that crossed moral lines—like beating up cheating husbands and mistresses—which left some lingering shadows on Gu Liuguang.
When they reached the floor, Gu Liuguang greeted these unfamiliar but kind colleagues and hurried toward the practice room.
Everyone else was already there. Xiao Xia was getting her outfit and styling done, while the rest clustered together chatting. They waved her over as soon as they saw her.
As soon as Gu Liuguang joined them, she heard them talking about Xi Xia and asking if she knew Xi Xia’s identity.
Gu Liuguang recounted what had just happened, still feeling uneasy inside. The plot hadn’t mentioned anything like this.
“You almost got tricked too. Don’t worry about it—Zhang Ze said he’ll contact Black Tail,” Xiao Yao said, seeing Gu Liuguang’s unease and getting straight to the point.
“How did you and Ji Jia—Black Tail’s girlfriend—meet? You vanished right after going off-stream. The big sis and big bros grilled Zhang Ze nonstop. My big sis even asked me what’s up with you and Ji Jia.”
Right after going off-stream, tons of people had asked. Then, in the middle of the night, when Black Tail went live claiming Gu Liuguang seduced her girlfriend and was coming to the company to settle things, the traffic gossip exploded again.
Gu Liuguang huddled in the corner looking pitiful. She irritably twirled her hair ends and brushed it off. “She was using Lin Shixia’s avatar, so I felt a bit of fondness. Who knew…”
She felt too embarrassed to mention the nudes.
Xiao Yao laughed twice. “So Liuguang’s a Lin Shixia fan too…”
Suddenly remembering something, her laughter cut off. She lowered her voice. “I heard Ji Jia’s a Lin Shixia fan too. Someone posted on that yuri board asking what to do if your girlfriend’s chasing stars, and tons of people guessed it was Black Tail.”
Tiantian perked up. “Why guess Black Tail?”
Xiao Yao: “Because Black Tail’s so dedicated. She streams every day without fail and runs her account properly. Her latest posts lean toward couple vlogs, though the comments aren’t great.”
“Black Tail’s girlfriend is in B City right now, visiting Lin Shixia for her star-chasing. Her Weibo IP shows B City, and she was posting Lin Shixia photos yesterday.”
Gu Liuguang was a bit stunned. Someone was even worse off than her.
Xiao Yao was flipping through phone screenshots, determined to show everyone Ji Jia’s scumbag “evidence.”
Gu Liuguang’s phone lit up with a message from Zhang Xibai.
– Xibai: Come to the office for a chat?
Even if Zhang Xibai’s persona had crumbled, the plot still had to proceed.
She replied “Coming right now” to Zhang Xibai, pocketed her phone, told Xiao Yao and the others, and headed to the elevator.
Mornings at the company were for dance practice and styling. Afternoons were for live streams, with overtime evening streams if performance was poor, followed by post-stream reviews.
The fourth floor was quiet. Gu Liuguang had gotten familiar with the place. This time, she knocked first and only pushed the door open after hearing Zhang Xibai say to come in.
Zhang Xibai sat behind the desk with a laptop in front of her. Her long hair draped loosely, and her pale outfit made her seem even more aloof. She gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit.”
Gu Liuguang sat down. Her fox eyes openly scrutinized Zhang Xibai.
Zhang Xibai impassively poured her a cup of tea. Noticing Gu Liuguang’s stare, the corner of her lip twitched upward almost imperceptibly.
“How’s your consideration going?”
Gu Liuguang answered without thinking. “I’ve decided. Take me there.”
She’d figured it out—she needed to clear this plot point quickly.
She strongly suspected the Ji Jia incident was “punishment” for dragging out the plot without meeting Lin Shixia yet, like the System said about butterfly effects. Delaying the plot, intentionally or not, led to other events pushing her toward dire straits.
The form of the meeting didn’t matter; what mattered was meeting Lin Shixia first.
Gu Liuguang stated it plainly. Instead, Zhang Xibai seemed to hesitate. She sat primly behind the desk, her straight black hair falling over her shoulders, slender white fingers lightly gripping a paper cup, pale eyes fixed on a spot on the desk as if pondering.
“Just one meeting?”
Gu Liuguang nodded cautiously. “Yeah.”
Of course not just one, but she didn’t need Zhang Xibai’s permission to date Lin Shixia, and no need to share extras.
She didn’t deny it because Zhang Xibai seemed off. The colleague’s words about Zhang Xibai liking her echoed again. She feared Zhang Xibai might back out.
Zhang Xibai eyed her suspiciously for a long moment before looking away, turning slightly to stare at the laptop.
“Then confirm the date and request time off from the company.”
Gu Liuguang paused, hesitant. “Shouldn’t we check Lin Shixia’s schedule first? What if she’s busy when we get there…”
Zhang Xibai’s expression remained cool. She set the paper cup down and tapped the desk lightly twice, her tone neutral. “It’s just one meeting. It won’t take much time.”
As soon as she left the office, they got word that Xiao Xia’s styling was done and they needed to record videos.
To maintain continuity with live stream looks, even if only Xiao Xia was styled, the others had to stand behind in formation for triangular dances. They’d record one take, then change looks.
New groups kept things simple at first. Without stable lineups, the company skimped on investments like costume changes.
They scarfed down lunch, and by two, the stream notice came. Their group’s performance was solid, so they’d been slotted for afternoon streams.
They’d started with evening slots, when their sponsor bosses usually watched. Zhang Ze messaged the group to give the bosses a heads-up, to avoid ugly low numbers.
He sent the notice just before stream time and reassured them that low performance was normal for a new time slot—no need to stress.
As soon as the afternoon stream started, three thousand viewers flooded in. Numbers grew slowly after that, barely hitting eight thousand after an hour.
Gu Liuguang’s gifts were stuck at one hundred. Fewer people gifted in the afternoon anyway, and her high threshold deterred specifies. Small scattered gifts kept trickling in, though.
Compared to other groups, it wasn’t bad—assuming you hadn’t seen the prior days’ million-gift hauls. Zhang Ze was frantic.
Luckily, the other members had looped in the boss, who generously dropped a few big gifts to prop up the totals without looking too pathetic.
Zhang Ze switched the music later. Gu Liuguang didn’t react at first. Gift logs were visible to them too, and hers had only one in an hour.
She froze briefly when her dance’s music hit, then muscle memory took her to center position.
Her dance was simple—small, easy moves—but her expressions nailed it, winning over most viewers.
After a few days of streaming, the rhythms were etched into her body. One note, and she reflexively dipped her knees and thrust her hips.
Her gaze trailed from her toes upward to her chest, then to the camera, hands hugging her curves like vines unfurling from bottom to top.
She tilted her face up slightly, fox eyes half-lidded in seduction, thick lashes draping at the corners, making her eyes seem larger and more elongated with an indefinable allure.
Before, when seated, only some noticed her. Most stuck around for the group account’s massive fans and the others’ improving looks.
But when Gu Liuguang stepped center, everyone—inside and outside the stream—couldn’t help focusing on her.
In just ten seconds, viewer numbers skyrocketed.
The seductive track abruptly switched to standard BGM. Gu Liuguang stepped back to her spot.
Barrages scrolled wildly, asking who the dancer was. When others took turns, they always seemed a step short.
Sometime in there, fans—or maybe mods—posted barrages @-ing Gu Liuguang’s account for easy follows and gifting.
After Tiantian finished and returned to her rest chair, Zhang Ze grabbed the mic. “Sisters and brothers who want to see Little Light dance, check the public screen. Specific gifts trigger specific dances. PK Tournament’s in two days with even hotter performances…”
He rambled on, but it worked. High-level whales soon showered gifts, matching an hour’s worth in half an hour.
Maybe because of recent full-screen gifts to Zhang Ze, or adapting to afternoon slots unlike other streams’ rigid gift-to-dance ratios.
Zhang Ze defaulted to old habits, pulling Gu Liuguang after fewer than ten dances for rest and cueing others.
Viewers quickly called him out. Zhang Ze smoothly recycled his old lines. “Sisters and brothers, please understand—Little Light needs extra rest for health reasons. Regulars know this… We don’t want our Little Light collapsing, right…”
Mid-sentence, a dazzling gift effect blanketed the screen, meteors sparkling around it.
Zhang Ze paused, then shouted in delight. “Thanks to our Fox Sis for the Douyin No.1!! Fox Sis, you’re here in the afternoon too…”
“Whoa! Thanks to our Fox Sis for the Carnival!!”
No sooner said, his voice boomed again. “Thanks to our Fox Sis for the Dream Castle!”
“Thanks to our Fox Sis for the Universe Heart!”
…
Like money was endless, “Fox Sis”‘ gifts kept coming, effects chaining nonstop.
Finally, bored of singles, she spammed “Douyin No.1 x99,” treating it like hearts.
She gifted for nearly half an hour straight. Zhang Ze’s grin never faded. He couldn’t squeeze in dances to fulfill them—too busy thanking.
Even barrages went wild with “WTF,” @-ing friends to see the whale. Viewer count exploded again.
Two hours in, numbers hit twenty thousand, landing a recommendation. Tourists poured in endlessly.
The afternoon group live benefited greatly from Fox Sister’s support, and the revenue looked much better. However, one person’s contributions could not match those of a dozen people spamming gifts. After all, they had just switched to the afternoon slot, so Zhang Ze was still quite satisfied.
After the gifts stopped, Zhang Ze very sensibly prompted Gu Liuguang to dance right away.
The music switched to the dance that corresponded to Gu Liuguang, and she quickly moved to the C-position.
Everyone’s costume change videos could be recorded tomorrow. In order to help them adapt as quickly as possible to dances for different music styles, the songs played were sometimes varied.
Zhang Ze played five songs in a row for Gu Liuguang’s dances. Just as he prepared to play one more round before letting Gu Liuguang rest for a bit, he saw “Fox Sister” send several flashy gift effects again.
Zhang Ze was just about to thank her when he saw Fox Sister’s message in a special font floating across the live stream chat.
-fox: Let her rest.
Zhang Ze immediately agreed, his words dripping with flattery. He also deliberately mentioned to Gu Liuguang, “Wow, Fox Sister is really so good to our Little Light! We must thank Fox Sister properly…”
As he spoke, he had the stage controller pass the microphone to Gu Liuguang. Whenever someone donated a lot or traffic was low and they needed to rally votes, they would have the girls say a few sweet words.
Of course, their group live always had great traffic and revenue, so they rarely used this trick. It was mainly because it was the afternoon slot today, and the revenue was not as good as before.
Gu Liuguang was still a bit dazed when she took the microphone. No one had told her before that she needed to say these things, and she still planned to request leave to go to C City afterward.
She stared at the shiny fox account in the live stream chat and met Zhang Ze’s gaze from across the phone. It took her a good long while before she remembered to speak.
“Thank you, Fox Sister…”
Gu Liuguang still did not know what to say at the moment. Yesterday, she had already realized that the top one, two, and three accounts she had marked were probably none of them Lin Shixia.
This fox was completely just a plot-irrelevant passerby in this world, and she no longer planned to spend any more time maintaining the relationship.
Under Zhang Ze’s eager gaze, Gu Liuguang eventually said quite a few words. Once she thought it through, sweet-talking came easily to her.
She felt especially embarrassed thinking about how she had mistaken the person and used that tone with Ji Jia. After realizing her mistake, she was even sweeter to fox today than ever.
The most obvious result was that fox seemed determined to blow through her entire fortune, sending another barrage of Liuguang Yicai gift effects.
Gu Liuguang could not tell, but Zhang Ze had a rough estimate in his mind. It should have been about even with the daily revenue from the past few days.
He could not help but sigh to himself that rich suckers like this were truly rare. Of course, he did not think that spending so much on Gu Liuguang made someone a sucker.
It was just that too many rich ladies had come to him asking about Gu Liuguang’s situation. Last night, when Gu Liuguang’s attitude had shifted slightly, even fox had asked him about it. This went to show just how perfunctory Gu Liuguang usually was about maintaining the bosses.
Most bosses were in it for the person themselves. After gifting enough, they wanted to meet up outside. If you refused, they would just switch to someone else.
Now that group lives were more common, the intentions were not as blatant as before, but they still wanted something in return. “Doing homework” was one way to provide emotional value to the bosses, making them willing to shower gifts on the streamers without the streamers having to offer their bodies.
Their company’s group lives were still relatively decent. They did not force the artists to do homework for bosses. However, if revenue fell short, they would keep people behind for reviews and publicly punish low performers. In the end, they used all sorts of high-pressure tactics to force voluntary resignations.
The fact that bosses came asking him directly showed that while Gu Liuguang had little personal experience with it, Zhang Ze had seen plenty. He knew right away that Gu Liuguang had not properly maintained even fox, who was a perennial leaderboard topper in the live stream chat.
However, it was a case of one willing to give and one willing to receive. Maybe those two just had that kind of dynamic. Zhang Ze could not possibly force Gu Liuguang to suck up to the leaderboard topper.
Since Gu Liuguang was not professional enough, Zhang Ze stepped up himself. He felt like he had used up every nice word he had learned in his twenty-odd years, all in this one live stream.
After the stream ended, Zhang Ze was thrilled and could not resist speaking to Gu Liuguang. “When you get back, make sure to thank the boss properly. Without her, we might have had to work overtime tonight.”
Their revenue made overtime impossible in the first place. The revenue that Gu Liuguang alone brought to the company was more than several groups combined could match. He was purely joking.
Gu Liuguang let out an “oh,” nodded, and agreed. She glanced at Zhang Ze’s expression, thought for a moment, and still mentioned her plan to request leave afterward.
Zhang Ze was stunned for a moment. He seemed about to say something but held back in the end. “I’ll talk to the company about it.”
The stream had gone well today, so there was no need to stay for overtime. Their group was able to clock out early. Xiao Yao gathered a few people to head to the new restaurant nearby for photos and dinner. When she saw Gu Liuguang finish talking with Zhang Ze, she moved to drag her along.
Just as they were about to leave, Zhang Ze could not help calling out to Gu Liuguang. “Do you really have to take this leave?”
Gu Liuguang nodded affirmatively. She had originally wanted to say that she was taking leave together with Zhang Xibai, but she worried about bad rumors, so she did not mention it.
Zhang Ze asked, “Then will you come back after the leave?”
He feared that his money tree would run away.