Ding Ze’s message came through next:
[When did this start? Was it when you two went together as streamer representatives last time? It can’t possibly be because you both embarrassed yourselves tonight and bonded over shared misery, right?]
[Not gonna lie, people are already shipping you two. The dynamic is pretty trendy too—beauty and the beast, gaming noob x esports god.]
Gu Ran stared at Ding Ze’s words, her earlier anxiety now replaced with utter confusion.
What on earth?
Her and Wang Daxia?
Gu Ran suddenly remembered the mask Ji Shiyu had been wearing earlier and finally understood why.
The camera had flashed too quickly, and Ding Ze had vaguely seen a masked man, automatically assuming it was Wang Daxia.
Gu Ran mentally compared Ji Shiyu’s face to Wang Daxia’s, and her mood grew complicated.
Thank goodness Ji Shiyu didn’t know—if he found out about Ding Ze’s terrible eyesight, Ding Ze would be out of a job.
Gu Ran immediately fired back:
[No way!]
[I’m at my own place right now! There’s absolutely nothing going on between me and Wang Daxia!]
To prove her innocence, Gu Ran even video-called Ding Ze, showing him she was indeed at home.
Ding Ze: “Then earlier…”
Gu Ran retorted confidently: “Just because you see a guy wearing a mask doesn’t mean it’s Wang Daxia. Couldn’t it just be a rideshare driver? Maybe he had a cold and didn’t want to spread germs.”
She swore without hesitation: “If that driver tonight was Wang Daxia, or if I have anything beyond a platonic relationship with him, may I start going bald tomorrow.”
Ding Ze: “…Damn, that’s harsh.”
Finally convinced of Gu Ran’s innocence, Ding Ze reminded her to rest well before hanging up.
Gu Ran exhaled in relief.
She glanced out the window again—Ji Shiyu’s car was already gone.
She went about her nightly routine.
---
After the carnival, the fan group chat remained buzzing with excitement. Those who had attended gushed to others about how stunning Gu Ran was in person—sweet, gorgeous, with an amazing figure—claiming that livestream cameras did her beauty no justice.
Seeing that no one brought up her embarrassing moment anymore, Gu Ran finally relaxed.
However, perhaps because the footage of her and Wang Daxia both wearing masks after their shared humiliation at the carnival had been so memorable, as Ding Ze had predicted, a surprising number of people had started genuinely shipping them. Fan-made “disaster couple” edits were flooding video platforms.
Wang Daxia even sent Gu Ran a WeChat message, seemingly worried she might misunderstand:
[Hey, just so you know, I totally respect how talented and hardworking you are. You’re amazing in every way.]
[But, uh, I’m really not looking for anything like that right now.]
[I kinda prefer girls who are good at gaming.]
[Sorry about that.]
Gu Ran: “……”
Now she understood why Wang Daxia stood out among all the chaotic gaming streamers.
[Don’t worry, I’m not interested either,] she replied.
Neither of them needed to rely on fake dating rumors to boost their popularity on Cat’s Paw. If they played along too much, a messy breakup narrative would only backfire. Thankfully, shipping hype tended to fade as quickly as it flared up.
Most of Cat’s Paw’s top streamers had taken a short break after the carnival, but now they were gradually resuming their usual broadcasts.
Gu Ran also returned to her regular streaming schedule.
Since her “elementary school math olympics” segments had been a hit, she occasionally led her viewers through problem-solving sessions. Today was another one of those days.
Her fans had mixed feelings whenever she did math on stream.
Unlike watching her play games (where they could just laugh at her noob skills) or listening to her sing and chat (where they could simply admire her beauty), these math sessions put them in a strange state of agony and delight. The happier Gu Ran seemed roasting the “simple” problems, the more painful it was when they realized they couldn’t even solve elementary-level questions. The emotional whiplash was weirdly addictive.
Gu Ran prepped her materials, turned on her camera, and went live.
Fans poured in:
[Damn it, why do I keep clicking on this? I’m just torturing myself.]
[Every time I swear I’ll never watch Ranran do math again, yet here I am. cries]
[Ranran please, stick to first or second-grade level. Anything past third grade is beyond me.]
[This feels like hating math class but being unable to resist because the hottest girl in school is your desk mate. The struggle is real.]
Gu Ran greeted everyone with her usual sweet smile.
“Don’t worry, everyone! Today’s problems are only first and second-grade level.”
Chat erupted:
[No way! For real?!]
[Finally, something we can handle!]
Gu Ran placed her worksheets on the desk. “Today, we’re doing first and second-grade… high school level.”
Everyone: […]
[I’m out.]
[See you tomorrow, wifey.]
Gu Ran chuckled. Despite the threats to leave, the viewer count only climbed.
She worked through problems while cracking jokes, occasionally glancing at chat to banter. Even the platform’s strict moderators, who usually cracked down on risqué content, had nothing to report here.
Since today’s topic was high school math, the conversation naturally drifted to school days.
[Someone as pretty as Ranran must’ve been the school belle.]
[Bet she had tons of admirers.]
[Which high school did you go to?]
Gu Ran skimmed the questions. Mentioning Yingde International would only raise suspicions about her family’s financial status, like it had with Ding Ze before. She rested her chin on her hand and answered, “Just a regular school nobody’s heard of, so I won’t bore you with the name.”
“I wasn’t the school belle, and not many people liked me,” she added, forcing a smile.
Back at Yingde, the “school belle” title had less to do with looks and more with family background. She hadn’t stood a chance.
“Focus on your studies, kids! No early dating!”
Just as Gu Ran was about to tackle the next problem, a message flashed across chat:
[Holy crap, guys! Emergency!]
Gu Ran froze, instantly on edge.
Others asked: [What happened?]
The original poster replied: [Meng Miaomiao just had a guy walk into frame during her stream! She’s been exposed for dating!]
[She’s been lying about being single to scam lonely fans, but turns out she’s been sneaking around this whole time!]
[Her longtime fans are going ballistic.]
Gu Ran: “…”
The rest of chat: […]
Meng Miaomiao was the second most popular streamer in the beauty category after Cat’s Paw’s #1. A sudden relationship scandal was indeed big news.
In the past, whenever she faced backlash for throwing others under the bus, her loyal longtime fans would always defend her. These fans were utterly devoted to her. However, during this livestream, a man suddenly appeared behind her, making everyone think of Meng Miaomiao sweetly calling her viewers "brothers" during streams, only to end up in someone else's arms the moment she went offline. The scene was like a knife stabbing straight into the hearts of her loyal fans.
The reason Meng Miaomiao's fans went crazy today was mainly because they had showered her with generous donations. Fans were more than willing to spend money on a single female streamer on the other side of the screen. In this scenario, the streamer, much like an idol, played the role of a "virtual lover"—fans paid, and the idol acted as their "fantasy partner."
So when fans suddenly realized that the person they had diligently supported financially wasn’t seriously playing the role of their "virtual lover," it naturally sparked furious outrage.
Gu Ran recalled the man who drove a Porsche for Meng Miaomiao after the Cat Paw Carnival and wasn’t particularly surprised. She had no interest in gossiping about others and tapped her pen cap against her scalp. "Alright, let’s move on to the next question."
Before starting, Gu Ran seemed to remember something and looked up, adding very seriously, "I don’t have a boyfriend."
"If I did, may all my hair fall out."
The chat exploded with:
[HAHAHAHAHA no need to go that far!]
[We believe you! That’s one ruthless oath.]
At XINBO headquarters, Ji Shiyu watched the livestream where Gu Ran swore up and down that she had no boyfriend.
He closed his eyes and exhaled a slow, pained breath.
...
After ending her livestream for the night, Gu Ran took a break and checked Cat Paw, only to find it flooded with clips of Meng Miaomiao’s stream—specifically, the moment a man in a bathrobe suddenly appeared behind her.
Meng Miaomiao’s longtime fans were all "boyfriend fans." No matter how many scandals or controversies she faced before, they always defended her. But today’s scene was a brutal blow.
Ding Ze excitedly messaged Gu Ran on WeChat to gossip:
[This is even worse than the time ‘Ultra-Sweet Little Loli’ turned out to be a middle-aged man.]
[The male fans who donated hundreds of thousands are going insane.]
[Now they’re all demanding refunds.]
[Wu Zhen definitely won’t sleep tonight. Not even a miracle could salvage this PR disaster.]
[And they’re calling him a ‘relative’? What kind of relative shows up in a bathrobe late at night?]
Gu Ran puffed her cheeks at Ding Ze’s messages.
Ding Ze: [Now we’re the undisputed top streamer! The only one who could’ve threatened you is gone!]
[Charge forward! fighting spirit emoji]
Gu Ran massaged her temples: [Uh… thanks?]
Suddenly, Ding Ze turned serious: [Wait, no—we can’t get complacent. We need to stay vigilant. After this mess, I need you to be honest with me: aside from ‘King Prawn,’ do you have a boyfriend right now?]
Gu Ran was speechless: [Do I look like someone who has a boyfriend?]
Ding Ze fell into deep thought.
True, she didn’t.
He thought of that ungrateful man who didn’t love Gu Ran, who even froze her credit cards—whoever he was, he clearly didn’t know what he was missing.
Sighing, he softened his tone: [I think you could have one. You’re still young. You should believe in love. You can still actively seek a ‘second spring.’]
[You’re not raking in hundreds of thousands in donations anyway. If you want to date, just date properly. Just give fans a heads-up—don’t let a man suddenly pop up behind you mid-stream.]
Gu Ran’s eyebrow twitched at the phrase "second spring." She put her phone down and went to wash up for bed.
The next morning, Gu Ran woke up and checked to see how Meng Miaomiao’s PR team was handling the fallout.
The front page of Cat Paw’s forum was split into two images: one half showed the screenshot of the man appearing behind Meng Miaomiao during her stream, while the other half was blurred, seemingly depicting a wedding scene.
Gu Ran read the headline below:
"No Boyfriend… But a Husband?! Cat Paw’s Other Top Female Streamer Exposed for Secret Marriage!"
Gu Ran frowned.
Who else got secretly married?
She hadn’t expected Meng Miaomiao’s PR strategy to be like this—claiming the man was just a relative while diverting attention by exposing someone else’s secret marriage. Admittedly, it was a clever move. The public’s fascination with secret marriages was intense, instantly taking the heat off Meng Miaomiao.
Curious, Gu Ran clicked in and saw the unblurred version of the wedding photo.
The backdrop was a bridal shop. The person in the picture wore a strapless wedding dress, smiling sweetly at her reflection in the mirror.
Gu Ran’s breath caught at the sight of the photo.
She had never told anyone.
After agreeing to marry Ji Shiyu that day at Beiyi Sanatorium, she had been so giddy with happiness that she went to try on wedding dresses the very next day.
She had the staff take countless photos, intending to send them to Ji Shiyu and ask which one he liked best.
But in the end, she hid them all away. Knowing how busy Ji Shiyu was, she thought that when he finally managed to carve out time to accompany her for dress fittings, she could just pull out the photos and let him choose.
That way, he’d love her for it.
