Bu Gu Niao: "Juan-er, I'm off."

"I always feel the stream isn't over when I can't see this comment."

"Clocked out for work, huh."

"Cat Bao, bye."

"Wife, time for bed."

It's Cha Cha: "Hahaha, he's so cute."

"Bye, Brother Gu. Goodnight, Sister Cha Cha. Goodnight everyone—remember to come home to see me tomorrow." Jiang Juan blew a kiss at the screen and cut the feed.

"The stream is finally over." Jiang Juan stretched, interlacing his fingers above his head.

Between classes, student council duties, streaming, and night studies, he’d spun like a top.

Worse, a faint pain still seeped into his life like a shadow.

As usual, Jiang Juan tidied up after the stream, then measured his stats.

He sank back into his gaming chair, opened an Excel sheet, and filled in today’s numbers.

Height: 174.5, 174.5—no change.

Weight: 59.4, 59.1, 58.9… 57.8—explainable.

Chest: 83.7, 83.8… 84.3

Waist: 81.8, 81.2… 78.7

Hips: 88.7, 88.7… 88.9

Jiang Juan stared calmly at the data. Eyes deceive. Senses ignore. But numbers never lie.

He glanced at the makeup mirror beside his screen. Maybe it was his imagination, but his face—usually needing filters to slim down slightly—seemed smaller now.

Jiang Juan closed his lake-blue eyes, slumping against the chair back, head tilted to expose the striking black lace choker on his neck.

"Hmph, hahaha." His left hand draped loosely on the armrest; his right fist clenched. He burst into a manic laugh.

"Hahaha, ha—cough, hack!" His laughter swelled, then choked into violent coughs as air flooded his mouth.

Still chuckling brokenly, he raised his left hand and slowly peeled off his wig, tossing it onto the bedroom floor. He turned to the mirror. An androgynous beauty gazed back—crimson lips curved in a faint smile, eyes shimmering like still water.

Jiang Juan tilted his head at the reflection, baring his swan-like neck. He yanked off the lace choker and gently traced his prominent Adam’s apple.

"How long can you hold on?" he murmured, soft as a lover’s whisper.

Jiang Juan shut his eyes again. "Life, fuck you."

———

"Let me tell you, yesterday your bro Zhang bet with me that—" Guyen sat backward on his chair, arms crossed on the backrest, but Zhang Ning hooked an arm around his neck, cutting him off.

"Master Gu, what’s the gossip? Let little Zhang enjoy it too."

"Whoa, no—don’t call me ‘master.’ Isn’t this my bro Zhang?" Guyen raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways.

"Nonsense. We each call what we like—you ‘bro,’ me ‘master.’" Zhang Ning shrugged.

"What? What wild thing did my bro Zhang say last night? Don’t hide it—the comedy world runs on him!" A classmate grinned, equally rowdy.

"Nothing much. Just a Mount Hua showdown to test our skills." Zhang Ning winked, grinning slyly.

"Hahaha, damn, impressive."

"I’ve seen you in the toilet—you can’t beat Guyen."

"Then let Brother Gu check you out. Room 502’s bed is huge."

"Scram, all of you. I like girls—slim and pretty ones first." Guyen kicked the boy playfully.

"Guyen! Guyen! Someone’s here for you!" a girl shouted from the doorway.

During the break, students chatted, napped, or scrolled phones. Heads snapped up at the shout.

The classmate who called out knew Guyen well. She teased, "Popular, huh, Guyen? It’s a girl."

Guyen had already turned, glancing sideways at the door. A petite girl stood there, flustered under the class’s stares. She kept her head down, revealing only a neat swirl of silky black hair and the ample curves straining against her blazer uniform.

"Tang Yuan?" Zhang Ning blurted, shocked.

Zhao Zhuoyang, napping at the front desk, lifted his head to stare.

"Hm?" Guyen said nothing else. He stood and walked toward the door.