Chapter 5 – Livestream Banned
Sang Ye checked Weibo and realized that his livestream had been taken down by Lu Qikai’s fans.
Looking at screenshots from the group chat, Kay’s fans were celebrating their success in reporting the stream.
The primary reason for the report? Accusations of cheating.
Sang Ye had never been this speechless before. His next post on Weibo had just three words:
[Can’t take a loss.]
By the time he returned with a can of cola from the fridge, the post had already received over a thousand comments.
Apparently, his fans were even more upset than he was.
Sang Ye wiped the water droplets from his hands and opened the comments section, ready to pick a few replies.
The top comment—
[Since your stream got taken down, when are you dressing up as a girl, Fu Gui? [Video link][doge][doge][doge]]
“???”
Sang Ye clicked the link.
A recorded clip from last night’s stream while he was waiting at the airport popped up.
—“Tell them to report it. If they succeed, I’ll consider it a loss.”
—“I’ll wear a dress if they do.”
“…”
He remembered.
But Sang Ye chose to ignore it and scrolled further, hoping for some normal comments.
[Yes!!! Fu Gui is finally going to dress up as a girl!]
[Kid, next time you stream, I want to see you in a skirt.]
[Bold request: black stockings.]
[Black stockings +10086]
“Pfft—!”
Sang Ye popped open the can and gulped down half of the chilled cola, cheeks puffed up, before grabbing his phone to type quickly:
[First of all, I didn’t provoke any of you.]
After sending the reply, he logged out of his Weibo account.
A bunch of fake fans—see you in a message bottle!
Sang Ye realized he still hadn’t contacted Jiang Bobai about something.
—The guy who had sent him the million-dollar gift at the end of the stream.
He opened WeChat.
S: [We agreed on three million, how did it turn into five? That wasn’t just a freebie, right?]
The livestream platform would take half of the gift’s value as commission—the more he spent, the more the platform took.
Sang Ye wasn’t blaming his friend; he was just adamant about paying back what he borrowed.
S.: [Send me your account info, I’ll transfer it now.]
Jiang Bobai must’ve been busy, as he hadn’t replied yet.
In the meantime, Sang Ye received a message from his manager, Sister Jiang.
The last time they’d spoken was a month ago, after a fallout over the guild forcing him into a streamer PK, which had left both sides on bad terms, and they hadn’t spoken since.
Jiang Lily: [Hey Xiao Sang, are you alright? The ban’s not a big deal, don’t let it get to you.]
She started with warm pleasantries, sounding unusually kind, as if the previous argument had never happened.
Sang Ye, with an expressionless face, picked up his phone and was about to reply.
Jiang Lily: [Here’s the thing, the guild’s senior management wants to focus on cultivating your talent. They’re considering making your promotion official earlier than expected. Once that happens, not only will your benefits improve, but you’ll also get featured spots and brand deals. What do you think?]
Sang Ye glanced at the message and immediately understood what was going on.
According to his current internship contract, no matter how many gifts or donations he receives, the guild doesn’t get a single cent. But once he’s officially promoted, the guild will be able to take a cut of his earnings.
He now understood why this woman was suddenly being so friendly—it was because news of the five million from his livestream had spread.
Jiang Lily: [How about we set up a time? I can bring the new contract and show you the future plans?]
Sang Ye sneered, clicked the top-right corner, and turned on [Do Not Disturb.]
This place was corrupt from top to bottom. Even if he continued as a streamer, he wouldn’t sign with them.
Now, Young Master Sang was just waiting to finish his two-month internship and walk away. No amount of resources would make him want to come back.
Just then, Jiang Bobai messaged him.
Benbo Erba: [What’s your account number? My sister was the one who sent the gifts.]
Sang Ye hadn’t expected that.
S.: [What do you mean?]
Benbo Erba: [I was going to send the gifts, but someone beat me to it—boom, 200K right away, then bam, another 100K, and finally another 200K. Once I saw you’d won, I didn’t bother sending anymore.]
Sang Ye stared at his phone for a while, then looked up, confused.
It wasn’t his friend…
So who was it?
…
The next day, at 9 a.m.
Yu Haotian and Xiao Pai were sitting in the cafeteria having breakfast when Tan Mo returned from walking his dog.
Tan Mo pushed open the glass door, and Tan Chunshan wiggled his butt, wagging his tail excitedly as he squeezed through the door, heading straight for Xiao Pai—specifically, the sesame flatbread in his hand.
Tan Chunshan was a one-year-old English golden retriever with sleek, shiny fur in the lightest cream color. As for his body shape, to put it nicely, you could call it “baby fat,” but in reality, he was just chubby. When he sat down, he resembled a small mountain, and his beady eyes were fixed intently on the flatbread.
Who could resist such an eager little fluffball?
Xiao Pai pinched off a piece of crispy skin and was about to secretly feed him when he guiltily looked up and saw Tan Mo watching him.
Xiao Pai shivered, knowing that Tan Mo treasured his “son” and wouldn’t let anyone feed him anything with oil or salt. So, in a flash, Xiao Pai withdrew his hand and stuffed the piece of flatbread into his own mouth.
Tan Chunshan, disappointed, let out a short “woof!” and even stomped his paw in frustration.
Tan Mo sat down.
Yu Haotian teased, “We were just talking about that fan of yours—the one who spent five million forcing Lu Qikai to apologize to you. They must truly love you.”
A pair of bright, passionate black eyes flashed in Tan Mo’s mind. He lowered his gaze and pulled off his sweaty wristband. “What fan? He has a name.”
“Where do you think he got all that money?” Xiao Pai took a bite of the flatbread, feeling conflicted. “I’ve got a full schedule and still can’t make five million in a year. The gap between people is just too huge!”
Tan Mo glanced up at him. “Are you hinting that your salary is too low?”
“How could I dare hint at that with eunuch Yu1 right here?” Xiao Pai replied righteously. “If he miscommunicates with the big boss behind the scenes, I’d be done for!”
Yu Haotian hates it most when people call him “Eunuch Yu2“, it’s just a name for a eunuch.
He gritted his teeth and said, “Your coach isn’t around, so you’re acting out, huh? I’ll call him and rush him back right now.”
“No, please!” Xiao Pai shrunk back, quickly wolfing down his breakfast. He jumped up and said, “I’ll take Brother Shan out for a walk!”
With that, he and the dog made a quick escape.
“Actually, I was looking for you,” Yu Haotian said.
Once it was just the two of them, Yu Haotian took out a file and slid it over to Tan Mo.
“I spoke with Old Qin last night. For now, we’ve settled on this person—he’ll be our key target during the transfer period.”
Tan Mo’s interest was piqued. He picked up the file. “You’ve already made a decision? Did Old Qin see his performance last night…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Opening the folder, he found a single sheet of paper. At the top was a small passport-sized photo.
The image showed a teenager, around 18 or 19, with black hair. He was thin, with a cold, sharp gaze, exuding a mix of arrogance and a hint of something darker.
Name: E Lan Game ID: Elan Role: Assault Player
Tan Mo pressed his lips together and kept reading.
“This is someone Old Qin has been tracking for about half a year. He’s outstanding in all areas. Just now, you were about to ask…,” Yu Haotian paused, suddenly realizing something, “You wanted to ask about that ‘wife fan,’ didn’t you?”
“He has a name.” Tan Mo blinked, his voice indifferent. “His name is Song.”
“Yes, Song!” Yu Haotian said. “I recommended him to Old Qin yesterday, but I later found out he’s part of a streaming guild.”
Tan Mo looked at him. “What’s wrong with being in a guild?”
“Let’s put aside potential contract disputes for now,” Yu Haotian hesitated. “But from what I know, nine out of ten streamers in that guild are cheaters. Don’t look at me like that—I’m not making this up.”
Yu Haotian pulled up a screenshot of a conversation and handed it to Tan Mo. “See? You didn’t believe me. His stream got shut down last night for cheating, and even his manager admitted it.”
The screenshot was provided by the platform administrator:
Jiang Lily: [As for the cheating reports, there’s no need for an appeal from the guild’s side. You don’t need to waste time investigating.]
Lily Jiang: [[Transfer] 50,000]
Jiang Lily: [Handle it the same way as before, but don’t publicize the reason for the ban. Please speed it up so it doesn’t affect Song’s stream.]
Tan Mo’s expression grew more reserved, his energy becoming subdued.
After a moment, he closed the file and said, his voice sounding a bit colder, “I was just asking casually. You and Old Qin handle recruitment.”
“Alright, Old Qin is already in contact with E Lan… Oh, by the way!” Yu Haotian slapped the table. “We’re hosting a karaoke event for the sponsors this Sunday, but finance isn’t approving the budget. How’s Fat Tiger supposed to handle this?”
“Everyone’s just following procedure; don’t give him a hard time.”
Tan Mo took out his wallet and tossed a bank card onto the table.
“Put it on my tab.”
Yu Haotian’s face lit up with joy. “Tan, you’re so generous!”
…
Sang Ye had been thinking all day but still couldn’t figure out who would give him five million.
Family, friends—he asked around.
None of them.
The user named [myaimissteady] was male, and apart from the record of sending him gifts, there was no other activity on his profile.
Sang Ye sent him a private message saying he wanted to return the money, but the other party never replied. The message remained [unread.]
—What exactly was this person after?
Sang Ye slouched in his gaming chair, deep in thought, when his phone vibrated.
He picked it up and saw it was from Jiang Bobai.
Benbo Erba:[I’m organizing a hangout this Sunday. Come sing K.]
S.: [Not going.]
Benbo Erba: [Come on, your livestream is unbanned next Monday. We should celebrate.]
S.: [Bad luck.]
Benbo Erba: [How about this: we’ll celebrate your birthday. It wouldn’t be the same without the birthday star who’s turning 18.]
S.: [That was a long time ago.]
Benbo Erba: [It’s your lunar birthday.]
You know what the lunar calendar is.
Sang Ye opened his phone’s calendar, took a screenshot, and was about to mark the corresponding lunar date for Sunday.
—Spring Equinox.
“…”
D*mn it.
Jiang Bobai had guessed right by pure chance.
When Sunday arrived, Jiang Bobai pushed Sang Ye into the private room, where he saw a two-tier birthday cake placed in the center of the coffee table.
“…”
Totally unnecessary.
Everyone knows that a birthday is just an excuse, the main point is to have fun.
Yet he was forced to celebrate his birthday twice a year.
After the lights were turned off, someone placed a party hat on Sang Ye’s head, and he was pushed to sit on the sofa, facing eighteen candles, his pale face devoid of interest.
Jiang Bobai said, “Come on, come on! Make a wish!”
Wishes are always welcome.
Sometimes, when Sang Ye saw a plane with its tail lights passing by at night, he would mutter a few words under his breath.
Sang Ye straightened up slightly, his long lashes gently covering his eyelids. After a while, he furrowed his brow slightly before relaxing, his lips pressed together ever so slightly, giving him an inexplicable look of sincerity.
Sang Ye had one wish—he made it in 2020, again in 2021, and this year… this was his second time this year.
—”I want to get into the first team. Let me join the first team. I must get in this year! Please!”
With a “clap,” he clasped his hands together and rested them under his chin.
In previous birthdays, Sang Ye may have made other wishes, but no matter the year or the wish, all of them pointed to one thing…
Sang Ye opened his eyes.
Jiang Bobai raised his phone high, capturing this vibrant moment of his eighteenth birthday, framed by the glow of the candles.
…
It was nearly midnight, the time when all the private rooms were at their liveliest.
A man walked into the lobby, catching the attention of passersby.
A Gucci-branded wool hat, black sunglasses, and a black mask covered his face, but paired with his excellent shoulder-to-head ratio and a model-like physique, some people suspected he might be a celebrity sneaking out for fun. Less serious people speculated he was a high-end escort on a house call.
Tan Mo walked straight ahead, eyes fixed forward, as he moved through the softly lit corridor, looking for the room number.
Yu Haotian had invited the sponsor to sing karaoke, and after they had drunk too much, Tan Mo came to pick them up.
From a private room on the left came a unified chant: “Sang Ye! Sang Ye! Sang Ye!—”
Through the glass on the door, Tan Mo saw a boy kneeling on the coffee table, dancing energetically. Under the vibrant LED lights, his creamy white hair stood out, unique and striking.
As the boy moved, the hem of his T-shirt lifted, and the burgundy light3 cast a glow on the two soft, pale dimples of his lower back.
Tan Mo’s gaze lingered for a moment until he passed the door.
Inevitably, he thought of another boy—someone who also had white hair and gave the impression of being clean, cold, and proud…
Tan Mo lowered his eyes, stopping his meaningless thoughts.
In any case, the cheating incident had shattered all his fantasies about that boy.
Note:
- “Eunuch Yu” (喻公公) is a humorous reference to Yu Haotian as a kind of playful jab. “公公” (gōng gōng) is often used to refer to a eunuch in Chinese historical contexts, typically a figure close to power but not directly wielding it. In modern slang, calling someone a “公公” can imply that they are in a somewhat submissive or servile role, though it’s usually meant jokingly among friends. ↩︎
- “I think it’s strange to call him Yu Gonggong and so i will immediately translate it to Eunuch Yu.” ↩︎
- “burgundy” refers to a deep red or wine-colored light. It means that the light illuminating the boy’s lower back has a rich, dark red tone. ↩︎