In the apartment, Gu Ran turned off the camera and ended her livestream, pressing the back of her hand against her slightly flushed cheeks to cool them down.
Today’s theme had been a cat-ear, soft-girl aesthetic. During the stream, she played an interactive game with her fans: if she won, they’d have to call her “boss,” but if she lost, she’d have to call them “gege” (big brother).
Gu Ran had been determined to win and claim the title of “boss,” but her fans’ desire to be called “gege” proved even stronger. Within two minutes, she lost the game.
All night, she had hesitated, too shy to actually say it. She thought she could sneakily end the stream and pretend everyone had forgotten, but her fans remembered all too well—no backing out now.
Gu Ran glanced at herself in the mirror. She had worn simple pajamas for the stream, and the cat-ear headband, a cheap 10-yuan accessory from a random shop, unexpectedly gave her a lazy, homey kind of charm.
Who wouldn’t want to hear a cute girl call them “gege”?
Honestly, even Gu Ran herself kind of wanted to hear it.
Letting out a breath, she leaned back in her chair and picked up her phone after the stream.
There were a few new messages on WeChat, all from the so-called “sisterhood” in Yuan Mengxuan’s circle. Over the past few days, she’d received countless messages from these fake friends, all with nearly identical content.
[OMG, Gu Ran, is this really you?]
[Image.JPG]
[So you’re a livestreamer now?]
[Want me to come support you with some gifts?]
Gu Ran had initially considered deleting every last one of these passive-aggressive “well-wishers.” But then it hit her—if she retreated in embarrassment, wouldn’t that be exactly what they wanted?
Wasn’t the whole point of their messages to make her squirm, to see her so mortified she’d want to vanish into thin air?
Well, she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction.
This was something to be proud of—something seriously impressive!
So instead of deleting them, she replied to each one with polite sweetness:
[Yes, that’s me!]
[No need to come support me, I’ve got hundreds of thousands of viewers every night—I won’t miss you!]
[Honestly, I don’t even know how I got so popular. It’s exhausting—I can’t even take a day off!]
After sending those replies, the fake friends’ group chats fell eerily silent.
Gu Ran smirked at the dead chat windows.
Oh, how effortlessly she could out-scheme them.
These girls thrived on flattery and attention, desperate for followers. Meanwhile, Gu Ran could just turn on her camera and instantly go viral, while they scrambled for scraps of validation in their tiny echo chambers, posting endless filtered selfies to crickets.
As for Ji Shiyu… Gu Ran remembered she had already blocked and deleted him.
Maybe she was overthinking it. They had broken up cleanly—one said it was over, the other immediately froze the credit cards. No loose ends. Why would he care what she did now? Even if he did, what could he possibly do about it?
The more she thought about it, the better she felt. Stretching lazily, she hugged her phone to her chest.
……
Late at night, the air hung heavy with silence.
Ji Shiyu stared at his WeChat interface, the cold glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes as he finally faced the truth.
Every furious call, every angry message—all of it had been effortlessly blocked by a single red exclamation mark.
"System Notification: Message not delivered. You have been blocked by the recipient."
Their conversation had ended without a word a month ago.
That painting she had posted on her Moments, giddily announcing it was for the walls of their future home.
The Love Lake.
She had excitedly messaged him: [I bought this painting today! Isn’t it pretty?]
He hadn’t replied.
At first, it was because he had already arrived at Nan Chen Residence when he saw the message. Later, he simply forgot.
Now, Ji Shiyu’s grip tightened around his phone as he fixated on the words “You have been blocked.”
He thought of the two dresses from the shopping site, the viral short videos under the username “Goddess of Seduction,” and the way his spoiled little canary had cooed “gege” in her livestream.
Suddenly, he understood the sheer, world-ending dread Xu Hui had radiated earlier when he finally revealed Gu Ran’s whereabouts.
And the reality was exactly that.
Ji Shiyu’s knuckles whitened around his phone.
……
The next morning, Gu Ran lazed in bed, idly scrolling through her feed.
Her fake friends were at it again—posting about how Qin Wenyi was finally returning, and how they’d settled on a date for her welcome-back party.
Gu Ran rolled her eyes.
Just come back already. Stop dragging it out like you’re some A-list celebrity keeping the world in suspense.
The first time she’d seen these posts, she had been terrified. Now? Just annoyed.
Did these girls really think she’d have a meltdown? That she’d crumble in shame, the knockoff finally facing the real deal? Was this their pathetic revenge for last night’s failed attempt to humiliate her?
Pathetic.
She was completely unfazed now, sleeping in till eleven like it was nothing.
Yawning, Gu Ran rolled out of bed.
It was nearly noon. She ordered takeout on her phone, then picked a new drama to binge while eating.
Soon, the doorbell rang.
Assuming it was her food, Gu Ran—still in her pink cotton pajamas, hair in a messy bun—bounced over and cracked the door open just enough to slip a hand out, waiting for the delivery guy to hand her the bag.
But nothing came.
Gu Ran: …Huh?
She wiggled her fingers, as if to say Hello? Over here?
Still nothing.
Frowning, she tried to peek through the gap—
Then froze at the sound of a familiar, formal voice.
“Miss Gu.”
She startled, jerking back as the door swung fully open to reveal Xu Hui standing there.
Xu Hui, in turn, took in the sight of Gu Ran—makeup-free, in comfy loungewear, her hair piled into a careless bun.
Behind him stood two men Gu Ran recognized: Ji Shiyu’s bodyguards.
Her expression darkened the second she saw them. Should’ve checked the peephole.
“Assistant Xu,” she said, forcing politeness. “What brings you here?”
Xu Hui smiled diplomatically. “Miss Gu, you’ve been away long enough. Mr. Ji sent me to bring you back today.”
Gu Ran blinked. “Back?”
“Yes,” Xu Hui confirmed smoothly. “Your credit cards have all been reactivated. The H-brand bag you ordered arrived at Nan Chen Residence yesterday. The invitation for next month’s fashion week has also been secured—you can take the G550 straight to Paris.”
Gu Ran stared at him, brow furrowed.
She knew what a G550 was—Ji Shiyu’s private jet, capable of international flights, one of the few of its kind in the country.
And now, she finally understood where "going back" meant.
Back to that gilded cage, which, to Ji Shiyu, was nothing more than a birdcage for her.
Finally, after listening to Xu Hui’s words, Gu Ran took a deep breath and asked, "Assistant Xu, are you done?"
"Ah." Xu Hui noticed that Gu Ran showed none of the joy or excitement he had expected.
Gu Ran gripped the doorknob. "If you’re done, then leave."
"Did Ji Shiyu send you?"
"He actually wants me to go back? I told you a long time ago—I’m never going back. Didn’t you relay that to him?"
Xu Hui hesitated. "Well…"
Gu Ran shook her head and was about to close the door when she suddenly heard a voice call out, "Gu Ran."
The voice came from behind Xu Hui.
Gu Ran looked past him.
Xu Hui immediately turned around, surprised to see Ji Shiyu standing there.
Xu Hui was taken aback. He had been sent alone on Ji Shiyu’s orders, yet the man had still come himself after delegating the task.
Once again, he realized that the golden canary held far more weight in Ji Shiyu’s heart than he had previously thought.
Xu Hui quickly stepped aside, making way.
Gu Ran stared at Ji Shiyu, who had suddenly appeared at her doorstep.
His brows were slightly furrowed, his dark eyes simmering with an uncharacteristic intensity, devoid of his usual indifference and detachment.
Seeing him, Gu Ran wanted to slam the door shut.
But Ji Shiyu stepped inside before she could.
Gu Ran blocked his path. This was their first meeting since their separation, and she had no intention of being welcoming. "I didn’t invite you in."
Ji Shiyu glanced around the place where Gu Ran now lived—its entire space likely smaller than a single bedroom in Nan Chen Mansion.
His mind flashed back to that cold, shabby motel crawling with cockroaches.
Xu Hui, ever perceptive, discreetly ushered the two bodyguards away and gently closed the door behind them, waiting outside.
Gu Ran caught the movement from the corner of her eye but kept her focus on the man before her. Before she could speak, he beat her to it.
"Aren’t you coming back yet?" Ji Shiyu’s tone made it clear he was in a foul mood.
Gu Ran inhaled sharply. "If Xu Hui forgot to relay my words, then let me repeat them to you myself, Ji Shiyu—I’m never going back."
"Because we’re over."
The man’s expression darkened instantly, his voice low and biting. "Gu Ran."
Gu Ran found a strange satisfaction in saying it out loud. She raised a brow. "Hmm?"
Ji Shiyu thought of how she had called someone "brother" on screen the night before. His temples throbbed as he fought to suppress the fury rising in his chest. "If you’re not coming back, do you plan to keep being a streamer?"
"Or go back to living in that hundred-a-night motel?"
He gritted his teeth and seized her wrist. "From now on, everything goes back to how it was. You are never to stream again."
Gu Ran stiffened. So Ji Shiyu knew everything—even about that dingy motel.
He tightened his grip, trying to pull her away.
Just like before, he issued his commands with cold authority, demanding her return, forbidding her from streaming—just as he had once offered her two vineyards in exchange for her silence, then dismissed her from his workspace.
Gu Ran wrenched at his hand. "Ji Shiyu, let go of me!"
"I’m not going back! What I do on stream is none of your business!"
Ji Shiyu remained unmoved, letting her struggle in vain.
Her arm ached from his grip. Realizing she couldn’t break free, she finally sank her teeth into the back of his hand, tasting blood.
Ji Shiyu hissed and released her, glancing at the bite mark before fixing his gaze on her defiant face. "Gu Ran!"
"All your cards have been reactivated. No limits."
It sounded like a final offer.
Gu Ran wiped her lips. At the mention of those cards, fury and humiliation surged through her, igniting her temper. "Ji Shiyu, I don’t want your money!"
"I didn’t take a single cent from you when I was in that cheap motel, and I sure as hell won’t take it now!"
"Do you think I’m pitiful, living like this and earning money as a streamer? Well, guess what—I’ve never been happier."
"I know exactly what you’ve always seen me as. But I’m a person, not a bird, and certainly not your property. I can’t afford to provoke you, and I’m not delusional enough to reach for you anymore. I used to cling to foolish dreams, but now I’m awake. I’m leaving. Isn’t that enough?"
"I didn’t take a single thing from you. I’m independent now—I can support myself. I refuse to go back to a life where one word from you can strip me of everything. I’ll do what I want. Who are you to control me? My father? What right do you have?!"
"Let me make this clear—I don’t give a damn about any of your luxuries. You don’t get to order me around anymore. We’re done!"
"And if we’re being technical—" She pointed at the door, hand trembling but voice steady for the first time in front of him. "No matter how much you look down on this place or on me, this is still my home. You’re standing in a place I paid for with my own money. So get out!"
Ji Shiyu stared at the woman before him, blazing with fury like a little lioness, spitting out "we’re done" with every breath. His expression turned icy.
She’d rather live in a motel, cram into a rented flat, call strangers "brother" on stream—anything but return to him.
She didn’t need him anymore.
She called someone else "brother."
The simmering rage inside him boiled over.
"Gu Ran," Ji Shiyu forced out through clenched teeth, barely restraining the urge to drag her back by force, "you’d better not regret this."
Gu Ran lifted her chin. "I won’t."
