Jiang Juan calmed his nerves, exhaling deeply. He belatedly realized his current outfit, paired with past interactions with Guyen, was utterly mortifying.
"Guyen, I hope you don’t mind if I step out for a moment. There’s water in the fridge; help yourself."
Guyen watched the "girl" before him—her face tight with suppressed anger yet her words polite and courteous—and mused again: men truly are born actors.
"Of course."
Jiang Juan turned away, eyes tightly shut, teeth biting his lower lip before pressing them together. Without a word, he walked toward the bedroom.
"Much stronger than I was back then," Guyen murmured, watching Jiang Juan enter. He nodded, scanning the small but well-equipped living room: TV, sofa, fridge. His gaze shifted to the floor-to-ceiling window.
*Cough, cough.* Guyen cleared his throat awkwardly. He hadn’t noticed earlier—the curtain pooled on the floor, with two rows of drying racks hanging in front, draped in various women’s clothes, including several skirts of different lengths.
*So this is the room of a high-quality human male student?* Guyen thought with dark amusement, striding to the fridge.
He opened it. The contents were sparse: only instant meals and bottled water on one shelf.
"Seriously? Not even cola?" Guyen raised a skeptical eyebrow, grabbing a water bottle. He twisted the cap, took a sip, and grimaced. "Ugh, tasteless."
Jiang Juan shut his bedroom door. He took several deep breaths, then walked to the bed. Picking up the makeup case, he pulled out a small mirror.
"Smile, Jiang Juan. Smile." He relaxed his expression in the mirror, practicing a practiced fake grin.
The girl in the reflection lost her earlier agitation. Her delicate brows and misty eyes looked like a serene ink painting.
Jiang Juan set down the mirror, parted the curtain carefully, and stepped through.
*Where’s CatBao? Hope nothing happened—last stream cut off suddenly too.*
*Ten minutes? I could’ve finished ten rounds by now.*
*Boyfriend confirmed!*
*Don’t force it; it’s just chair-sitting streaming.*
*CatCat’s here!*
Jiang Juan skimmed the scrolling chat comments, grinding his teeth. *Damn Guyen, why are you so annoying?*
"Sorry, everyone, I’m back." He unmuted his mic, standing before the camera. Hands clasped, rosy lips pressed together, delicate brows slightly furrowed, he bowed forward slightly—the black lace at his neck swaying distractingly.
*Babe, what happened?*
*Door locked tight and muted? Hiding something, huh?*
*Baby, tell me you were just running on a treadmill.*
*It’s fine, CatCat. As long as you’re okay.*
"A neighbor came by," Jiang Juan said, settling into his gaming chair and adjusting the camera to frame his face fully. "Said my singing was too loud, disturbing his rest."
*Wife’s beauty kills me.*
*Screen-licking time.*
*Singing today or not?*
*LOL, last time it was a ‘little brother,’ now a neighbor? So convenient?*
"Yeah, my apartment’s soundproofing is poor. It’s almost ten anyway—I’ll end the stream early today." His voice softened, deliberately gentle.
*????*
*That’s way too forced.*
TeaTea: "Night, CatBao."
NotLonely: "Jiang Juan’s been absent lately—someone stole his home. Gotta warn him on WeChat."
*Baby, promise me he’ll use protection.*
"Goodnight, TeaTea. Everyone, goodnight. See you tomorrow." Jiang Juan ignored the chat’s rhythm. Cold treatment worked best. He blew a silent kiss to the screen and cut the stream.
Leaning back in his chair, Jiang Juan exhaled. He swiveled to stare at the curtain, as if a flood beast lurked behind it.
For the first time in his seventeen years, he wanted to escape reality—to lock himself in this room forever.
Guyen, Guyen... why did I bring you back?
