Chapter 11: In Short

In short, Jian Yanzhi hadn’t said a word since the champion select phase of the game. Wei Heyuan had warned her beforehand that he needed to stream to meet his monthly quota.

 

She had two choices: leave or keep quiet.

 

To play a few more rounds with her gaming idol, Jian Yanzhi obediently chose to remain silent.

 

He Yuan once again claimed the ADC role, rampaging across the map with Ezreal. Jian Yanzhi played support, alternating between healing and tanking for him.

 

Thirty-four minutes into the game, their team nearly suffered a total wipe. He Yuan barely managed to snatch three kills from the enemy’s low-health champions, salvaging the situation somewhat.

 

When Jian Yanzhi’s screen went black, she cautiously leaned toward his computer, peering at the stream chat from outside the camera’s view.

 

“LOL! This is totally the support’s fault! Feeding kills like crazy!”

 

“Shen Yuan’s still stuck at the base during Chinese New Year? Doesn’t he have family to go home to?”

 

“The base is empty! Mao Mao posted on Weibo that everyone else is already home.”

 

“Oh my god! Our Eldest is all alone at the base! I can’t stand it! I’m going to keep him company! Someone give me the address!”

 

“Hey, who’s this ‘Your Dad’s Watching’ ID? I saw her queuing with Shen Yuan and Mao Mao last time.”

 

“Shen Yuan, your support seems a little lacking?”

 

Jian Yanzhi froze when she saw the question about the “Your Dad’s Watching” ID. Instinctively, she turned to gauge He Yuan’s reaction, completely ignoring the barrage of criticism directed at her in the chat.

 

*Seriously, playing with these pros? A normal person like me is doing pretty well just to keep up!*

 

Jian Yanzhi winked at He Yuan, eager to hear his response. But instead of acknowledging her, he directed a taunting glare at the screen. “The audience has sharp eyes. Your skills are indeed subpar.”

 

Jian Yanzhi stiffened.

 

The chat went silent for a beat before erupting into a frenzy of messages:

 

“Who’s he talking to? Is Shen Yuan arguing with someone?”

 

“‘Your Dad’s Watching’ is right there? What?!”

 

“Isn’t Shen Yuan supposed to be alone at the base? Who else is there? Spill the beans!”

 

“Is it a girl? Or a pretty boy? Holy crap, Shen Yuan’s actually live-streaming with someone!”

 

“A lone man and woman… or two men alone? Something’s fishy here~”

 

Jian Yanzhi was startled and quickly shot a warning glare at He Yuan, reminding him of their agreement to remain silent. *Why did he suddenly speak?* He Yuan finally glanced at her sideways. “What are you staring at? You’re revived—hurry up and catch up.”

 

Jian Yanzhi: “……”

 

**Live Chat:**

 

“Whoa! Did Shen Yuan just smile?”

 

“Carrying someone this bad? When did our Eldest become so patient?”

 

“Shen Yuan, turn the camera around!”

 

“Holy shit, why do I suddenly feel like he’s being a bit protective?”

 

“Shen Yuan belongs to my Ninth Brother! Can these randoms just back off?!”

 

The game finally ended, with He Yuan barely scraping out a victory. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly exhausted from the grueling match.

 

Jian Yanzhi, still buzzing with adrenaline from the intense battle, mouthed to He Yuan, “One more round?”

 

He Yuan’s livestream wasn’t scheduled to end yet, and he had planned to play another round anyway. But seeing a willing helper, he decided to put her to work. “I’m a little thirsty.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I want some water.”

 

Jian Yanzhi immediately understood. She flashed an “okay” sign and scurried off to the kitchen to fetch the water.

 

He Yuan watched her hasty retreat, a faint smile playing on his lips. *This girl really is as Jian Boyi described,* he thought, *completely obsessed with gaming.*

 

Meanwhile, Jian Yanzhi couldn’t care less about He Yuan’s thoughts. When gaming was at stake, pride and appearances could be tossed aside. Besides, her image in He Yuan’s eyes had already crumbled—what was there left to lose?

 

Unaware that Jian Yanzhi had left her seat, she missed the explosion of comments triggered by He Yuan’s ambiguous smile:

 

“Shen Yuan, what are you looking at? Does Ninth Brother know you’re acting like this?”

 

“That smile is so doting! Who is this mysterious person?”

 

“Making her fetch water? Shen Yuan, that’s unethical—bullying a girl!”

 

“Hey, watch your tongue! How do you know it’s a girl? It could be a guy!”

 

While waiting for his water, He Yuan glanced at the screen and, seeing certain comments, asked indifferently, “A ‘pampered smile’? What kind of description is that? Did you even graduate elementary school?”

 

“Which eye saw me smiling? You should all go get your eyes checked at the hospital—don’t worry your parents.”

 

“What does it matter to you whether the person getting the water is male or female? Would you be happier if I said they were androgynous? A ‘freak’? What’s so funny about that? Are you interested?”

 

“Morality? What a joke. Our Base doesn’t have any of that crap.”

 

When Jian Yanzhi returned with the mineral water, she found He Yuan in full tirade mode, tearing into everything and everyone, including his own fans. He was either completely silent or spewing words like a machine gun, relentlessly roasting anyone until they questioned their very existence.

 

Yet despite this, a huge crowd of people still doted on him, as if they were addicted to some irresistible toxin.

 

*Oh, right,* Jian Yanzhi thought with a sigh, *I’m one of those people too—and probably a hardcore addict at that.*

 

She felt a pang of frustration. What could she do? The guy was amazing at League of Legends, and she had absolutely no resistance to people who were absurdly skilled at the game.

 

After gaming all afternoon and reaching his streaming quota, He Yuan abruptly ended his livestream, ignoring the anguished cries of his viewers in the chat.

 

Just as they were about to start another match, the front door burst open with a loud bang. Jian Yanzhi heard Jian Boyi’s earth-shattering wail: “Jian Yanzhi! Are you here?! Where’s the food I asked you to get? What took you so long?!”

 

Jian Yanzhi cursed under her breath. “I didn’t take that long! I already ate.”

 

“You ate? The kitchen’s spotless—there’s no sign you cooked anything! Hey, why are you sneaking around here instead of going home?” Jian Boyi emerged from the entryway and noticed He Yuan. “Eldest? What are you doing here too?”

 

He Yuan hummed in agreement. “I’ll stay behind.”

 

“Stay behind?” Jian Boyi nearly rolled his eyes. “Stay behind for what? You’re not going home for New Year’s?”

 

“Good thing he’s not,” Jian Yanzhi chimed in. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten to eat the steak Shen Yuan grilled.”

 

“What? Shen Yuan grilled steak?” Jian Boyi froze, then turned incredulously to He Yuan. “Eldest, did you… did you make her a special meal?”

 

“Not specially,” He Yuan corrected seriously. “Just something quick.”

 

“Something quick?!” Jian Boyi shrieked and lunged forward. “Then make something quick for me too! I’ve been sleeping all day and I’m starving!”

 

He Yuan flicked his hand away with disdain. “Stop being delusional.”

 

“That’s not fair! I’m your precious support! You’d rather cook for a stranger than for me?”

 

Jian Yanzhi’s lips twitched. “Get lost! Who’s the stranger here? Are you my brother or something?”

 

Clutching his stomach dramatically, Jian Boyi declared, “Hunger knows no family, little sister. Forgive me!”

 

“Bullshit,” Jian Yanzhi snapped, turning away.

 

“Ah… Eldest, please make me something to eat! Can you really bear to watch your most reliable support starve to death right before your eyes?” Jian Boyi wailed dramatically, his face a mask of anguish. “How could you do this to me, especially during the Lunar New Year?”

 

He Yuan’s hand froze on the mouse. He glanced back at Jian Boyi.

 

The scene felt eerily familiar. Oh, right—Jian Yanzhi often used the same pathetic act to garner sympathy.

 

After a mental comparison, He Yuan concluded bluntly, “Your acting is terrible.”

 

Jian Boyi stared blankly. “???”

 

Jian Yanzhi chuckled. “Exactly, Brother. I’m starting to think you made the right choice not becoming an actor. With acting skills like that, you wouldn’t even make it to the eighteenth tier!”

 

Jian Boyi stiffened, his face reddening. “You’re the real drama queen!”

 

“Overpraised, overpraised,” Jian Yanzhi replied with mock modesty.

 

In the end, Jian Boyi forlornly boiled his own dumplings. As he ate, his chest burned with resentment.

 

*A sister and an Eldest—how could they both be so cold-hearted?! Are they ganging up to bully me?*

 

In the following days, Jian Boyi started storing his groceries directly in the base’s refrigerator. This strategy, suggested by Jian Yanzhi, acknowledged their mutual culinary limitations—it was far safer to rely on freeloading from now on.

 

He Yuan had long seen through the siblings’ antics, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, after cooking extra portions for them, he relentlessly assigned them chores.

 

He Yuan was a notorious neat freak, and with the base’s cleaning lady away for the past few days, he had been worried about who would maintain his standards of cleanliness.

 

Jian Yanzhi, however, preferred washing dishes to mopping floors and dusting. She tempted Jian Boyi with an autographed photo of his favorite actor, offering him everything but dishwashing in exchange.

 

Over the next few days, Jian Boyi became responsible for cleaning He Yuan’s room, his bathroom, the living room where they relaxed, the kitchen where they cooked, and even the handrails on the staircase.

 

This arrangement inevitably led to the following recurring scene:

 

He Yuan and Jian Yanzhi would sprawl on opposite ends of the sofa, watching TV in the living room while issuing commands to the diligent Jian Boyi.

 

“Brother, it’s dirty over there. You need to wipe it down,” Jian Yanzhi would say.

 

“Clean the kitchen too. I won’t feel like making dinner otherwise,” He Yuan would add.

 

“Shen Yuan, shouldn’t you clean your room as well?” Jian Yanzhi would ask.

 

“Hmm,” He Yuan would grunt.

 

“Perfect! I’m sure Jian Boyi can handle it perfectly!” Jian Yanzhi would declare.

 

“I have every confidence in him,” He Yuan would concur.

 

The final straw.

 

“Goddammit!” Jian Boyi exclaimed. “You two are really pushing it! Fine, I won’t eat dinner, and I don’t want your autographs anymore!”

 

Jian Yanzhi giggled. “Oh, Mom and Dad are coming back soon. Hmm, maybe we should order takeout.”

 

He Yuan chimed in, “How convenient! Aunt is coming back to work tomorrow too.”

 

Jian Boyi stared blankly, speechless.

 

After the Lunar New Year, the team members gradually returned, and Jian Yanzhi’s winter break came to an end as she resumed her university studies.

 

Having completed her first semester, Jian Yanzhi enjoyed a special privilege granted by the university, allowing her flexibility for work due to her early fame and extensive acting experience.

 

With no urgent projects on the horizon, she dutifully attended classes during her return to campus. One day, her manager, Fang Yang, visited to inform her that an invitation to a joint banquet hosted by the Kesi Group and other brands had been delivered. She emphasized that Jian Yanzhi absolutely had to attend.