The evening breeze blew gently as Guyen irritably scratched his hair. He wore a light short-sleeved shirt and flashy floral shorts, making him look like he’d just stepped off a flight from Sanya.
Past nine at night, the streets still buzzed with life. Passersby glanced at Guyen in surprise, but upon seeing his handsome yet bruised face, they subtly edged away.
“Ugh, this mouth of mine is really asking for trouble,” Guyen muttered, wandering aimlessly down the street. He’d run out on impulse earlier, taking nothing. The cool wind cleared his head, leaving deep regret.
No one knew better than Guyen what Gu Yu’an had sacrificed for him over the years. She loved him far more than herself.
“So despicable,” Guyen thought, raising his left hand to lightly slap his cheeks twice.
“Sigh.” He wanted to apologize but couldn’t swallow his pride. There was no helping it—teenage boys were just strange creatures.
“Ugh, so annoying!” Guyen scratched the back of his head again, then kicked at the air with his right leg.
He didn’t want to go home, but he had no phone, let alone cash. Zhao Zhuoyang and Zhang Ning—one was hospitalized, the other probably swamped with Korean stuff. He couldn’t count on them.
“Where to go?” Guyen looked up at the sky, pondered a moment, raised an eyebrow, and headed toward the school.
————
“Why listen to Mom’s words? When you grow up, you’ll start to understand this…” Jiang Juan strummed the guitar strings. The cheerful notes blended with his sweet voice, like biting into soft cotton candy, melting hearts instantly.
“Queen, your singing is amazing.”
“CatBao, my treasure, so soft.”
“Your singing’s weak—I can actually hear the lyrics! Just kidding.”
After the song, Jiang Juan set down the guitar, walked to the desk, and sipped water. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a school uniform hanging by the window—a spot hidden from the camera—and drifted into thought.
Recalling what he’d done in the principal’s office that afternoon, Jiang Juan’s mind echoed with just two words: regret. Deep, profound regret.
He didn’t know why at the time, but when he heard Wang Hao suggest expelling Guyen, he’d instinctively stepped forward. It wasn’t necessary—he’d already done enough by calling security for Guyen, stopping things from escalating. Guyen had fought; he should take responsibility. This thankless act was so unlike him.
Maybe he’d remembered that afternoon in the discipline office—the boy’s defiant gaze. Or the alleyway, that harsh phone call. Or perhaps he hadn’t thought at all; he just didn’t want it to happen.
Jiang Juan shook his head. As the saying goes, you become like those around you. Lately, he’d been around Guyen too much and caught his impulsive streak. He needed to keep his distance.
“Folks, what song do you want? Spam the chat!” Jiang Juan set down his cup, his eyes crinkling with smiles that flowed into viewers’ hearts, stirring a tipsy warmth.
“Ah Wei is dead!”
“Ah Wei’s grave.”
“Sob, that smile—hidden gem girl, I’m in love!”
“CatBao, please, do that hip-twist dance? I’ll send rockets!”
“Streamer, how much per night? DM me if interested.”
Jiang Juan was in high spirits, the gloom of recent days gone. He even bantered with the chat.
“Hip-twisting? Nah, I can’t dance. Go watch the dance section girls next door.”
“I wonder who’ll be lucky enough to get CatBao’s hip-twist someday.”
“That’s gotta be me!”
“Sing ‘Lies’!”
“I want to hear ‘Over the Fire’!”
“Alright, ‘Lies’ it is,” Jiang Juan said, nodding as he adjusted the camera angle and sat back down.
“Ahhh, why don’t you show your face all the time? Only when drinking can we peek! No, I want CatBao, I need to pet the cat ahhhh!”
“Please, streamer, take us on another charge!”
Jiang Juan had just picked up the guitar when the doorbell suddenly rang.
“???”
“Who could it be at this hour?”
“Holy crap, boyfriend?”
“I bet it’s Tracksuit Bro.”
Jiang Juan froze, glancing at the screen—21:43. Wait, who could this be?
