Ji Shiyu’s eyelids twitched slightly.
He glanced at the enthusiastic fans beside him who were urging him to join their cheers, then stood up and left his seat. “No need.”
The group watched the masked man’s cool, domineering retreating figure and whispered among themselves:
“I don’t get it. He’s already here, why act so aloof?”
“Exactly! Does liking Ranran embarrass him or something?”
“Definitely not a true fan.”
“Holy crap, I bet he’s that ‘wdlpml’ guy. No wonder he wouldn’t share his ID or fishpond number, or even show his face. We kicked him out of the fishpond!”
“It’s gotta be him! How dare this undercover anti-fan take a ticket and sit among us real fans?”
“Next time he shows up in front of us, I’m throwing hands.”
...
Gu Ran finished singing and was then roped into two interactive games by the host, all while discreetly waving at her fans in the audience.
The fishpond fan group was flooded with stunning photos of Ranran from the event.
The official Cat’s Paw livestream was also packed to capacity. During the final group photo, all the attending streamers stood together, and Cat’s Paw’s top beauty stood out like a radiant star, stirring excitement in everyone.
Some had once claimed she looked average off-camera—thin and dark, only photogenic—but when everyone stood together, it was clear she was tall, fair-skinned, and even had the fullest head of hair.
No wonder she never lost, even when representing Cat’s Paw on the Golden Feather Awards red carpet.
The pride of the beauty streamers!
After the carnival, Gu Ran went to the audience seats to take photos with her little “fishies” who had attended.
One fan immediately tattled, “Ranran, we ran into that undercover anti-fan with the random username tonight!”
Gu Ran’s smile froze mid-photo.
?
The undercover anti-fan with the random username—wdlpml?
“Yeah!” another fan chimed in indignantly. “He had the nerve to come and sit among us real fans. How shameless can one person be?”
Gu Ran: “...”
She could only gently remind her fans to stay friendly, peaceful, and civilized. The best way to deal with such undercover antis was to ignore them.
“Don’t worry, we won’t give him the time of day,” the fans assured her.
After bidding farewell to her fans, Gu Ran changed out of her outfit backstage and prepared to head home.
Ding Ze was still busy with post-event logistics, so Gu Ran tried to hail a ride outside the stadium. But with the event’s massive turnout, ride-hailing apps were overwhelmed—over 200 people were ahead of her, with an estimated wait time of an hour and a half. Even premium rides were unavailable.
Other streamers either drove themselves or even had personal drivers.
Gu Ran sighed and mentally added “earn money for a car and get a driver’s license” to her to-do list.
She lugged a heavy bag holding her voluminous, weighty gown and resigned herself to taking the subway.
Just then, a car slowly passed by.
The passenger seemed to recognize Gu Ran and rolled down the window.
Their eyes met.
Meng Miaomiao sat in the Porsche’s passenger seat and smirked.
Cat’s Paw’s top beauty refused large tips and had only taken one sponsorship so far. She might seem more popular, but she was earning far less.
The disdain in Meng Miaomiao’s eyes was palpable—mocking Gu Ran for being a broke loser who had to take the subway despite her fame.
Gu Ran: “...”
She recalled how she’d once flaunted a 370-million-yuan painting in front of Yuan Mengxuan’s crowd. The irony wasn’t lost on her now.
She noticed the man driving Meng Miaomiao was older but handsome in profile.
Meng Miaomiao always claimed to be single on stream.
With a final smug look, Meng Miaomiao rode off in her Porsche.
Gu Ran pursed her lips at the taillights and continued toward the subway.
Soon, another car pulled up beside her, the window rolling down.
Gu Ran wondered if mocking the poor had become a group activity—until she turned and saw Ji Shiyu stepping out.
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
Gu Ran hadn’t expected him to still be here. She glanced around and declined flatly, “No need.”
Adjusting her bag strap, she kept walking.
Ji Shiyu caught her arm. “Pay me.”
“Consider it a ride-hail.”
Gu Ran hesitated.
Her apartment was far from the subway, and she’d need another ride after. The train would be packed, and her bag was heavy.
Ji Shiyu took the bag from her.
After a pause, Gu Ran relented. “I’ll pay double the fare. Thanks.”
As she got in, Gu Ran remembered the last rumor about a “streamer in a CEO’s luxury car.”
This time, it was real.
Unease crept in. She reached for the door handle, but Ji Shiyu had already started the car.
Gu Ran gripped the seatbelt as streetlights flickered through the sunroof.
She suddenly pulled out the mask gifted by Wang Daxia and put it on.
Noticing Ji Shiyu also wore one, she recalled her fans mentioning a masked “wdlpml” in the audience.
Cracking the window, she let the cool night air clear her thoughts.
Silence filled the car.
Then Ding Ze called via video.
Gu Ran angled the camera at herself.
Ding Ze relaxed upon seeing her in a car. “You got a ride!”
“Yeah.”
“I was worried—tonight’s chaos.” He squinted at the car’s interior. “Premium again?”
Gu Ran forced a laugh. “Mhm.”
“Text me when you’re home.”
“Okay.”
As she was about to hang up, the car braked hard—a jaywalker had dashed through a red light.
Gu Ran lurched forward, seatbelt snapping her back, but her phone clattered to the floor.
Ji Shiyu cursed under his breath, relieved to see Gu Ran unharmed.
Ding Ze’s frantic voice came through: “What happened? You okay?”
Gu Ran scooped up her phone, tucking stray hair behind her ear. “Someone ran a red light.”
“Oh… glad you’re fine,” Ding Ze said slowly.
Gu Ran meant to end the call—until she realized:
They’d been on video.
She hastily refocused the camera on her face, heart racing. Had Ding Ze seen something?
She knew the higher-ups at Cat Paw must be familiar with Ji Shiyu, but she wasn’t sure whether Ding Ze recognized him.
Fortunately, Ding Ze on the other end of the call didn’t seem to say much more. After reminding Gu Ran to message him once she arrived at her destination, he ended the video.
Gu Ran hung up and glanced at Ji Shiyu’s profile beside her, her eyes lingering on the mask hanging from his chin. She reassured herself that it should be fine.
The camera angle had been so chaotic earlier—Ding Ze probably hadn’t seen anything clearly. Even if he had caught a glimpse by accident, Ji Shiyu was wearing a mask, so he might not recognize him anyway.
Ji Shiyu drove Gu Ran back to her apartment building.
“Thanks,” she said, then stayed seated in the car, transferring money into his account.
Ji Shiyu watched her, his gaze darkening.
“Nannan,” he began, as if he wanted to say something.
At that moment, Gu Ran turned her phone toward him, showing the completed transaction. “Done.”
“Thank you.” She avoided his hand when he reached to unbuckle her seatbelt, getting out of the car herself.
Carrying her things, she walked home, noticing his car still parked downstairs. She then sent Ding Ze a message to confirm she’d arrived safely.
Ding Ze: [Are you really back at your place…?]
Gu Ran frowned at the message. [Of course I am. Why?]
Ding Ze replied: [I saw everything earlier.]
Her heart immediately leapt into her throat. Her fingers trembled as she hesitated, unsure how to explain.
Then Ding Ze sent a sighing emoji.
[Since when did you and Wang Daxia have a thing?]
Gu Ran: “…?”
