His agent had told him that it’s best for streamers not to privately contact fans, especially those who give gifts in the live broadcast room. After all, online streaming happens in a virtual space, and meeting offline can lead to unexpected situations.
The agent also emphasized that he must not disclose his address; otherwise, he might receive strange things.
Yan Chuan, who had already received some odd items, agreed.
However, he still had to send the long socks that his top fan, Qi Yan, requested.
The script assigned him a second task: to meet offline with the top three fans. If he refused Qi Yan’s request and then tentatively asked others if they could meet offline… that would indeed be strange.
If he agreed to send the unwashed long socks he had worn… that would be even weirder.
He had no idea what they would be used for.
Yan Chuan thought again about the leg rings that Evan had taken.
He was torn between whether to send them or not, when Qi Yan surprisingly rewarded him again.
Looking at the glaring “Top Fan” sign in the live broadcast room, and the polite messages sent by Qi Yan in the chat, Yan Chuan could no longer find an excuse to back out.
Well, the person might be a bit strange, but they were generous and put on a decent front.
He just didn’t know what kind of peculiar preferences they had, liking worn clothing.
The next morning, Yan Chuan sent off the pair of leg socks he had worn according to Qi Yan’s request.
They were thin and light, folded into small pieces and placed into a little box. To prevent others from guessing what was inside, he wrapped it in several layers.
As long as only Qi Yan opened it, no one else should discover what it was, right?
Yan Chuan felt a bit anxious, but he maintained a composed expression as he sent out the little box.
The staff at the courier service told him the same-city parcel would arrive tonight.
Thinking about the leg socks he had worn being delivered to an unfamiliar man, he felt his masked face grow a bit warm.
From this perspective, Qi Yan and Evan were quite similar in their preferences. One liked worn clothes, while the other had a major leg fetish.
In short, one was just slightly less strange than the other.
Yan Chuan thought of Ke Li.
This gaming streamer was very friendly with his teammates and often sent out group game invites, wanting to team up with him.
They would even argue over whom he should follow in the game.
Yan Chuan had no idea why they were fighting; to him, they were just one team, and he could win by hiding in the base. But Ke Li was adamant and insisted on organizing their discussions into a ranking system.
This was ironically referred to by the viewers as the “sleeping arrangements lottery.”
His fans loved to post comments like “pretty little streamer vs. the gaming team.”
When Yan Chuan looked back at the stream in the real world, he found that the barrage of comments was much more explicit; it seemed that reality shows might control the comments in the livestream but paid little attention to the NPCs in the script.
He comforted himself with that thought.
“Do you like desserts from XX shop?”
The screen lit up, and when Yan Chuan glanced over, he saw it was a message from Ke Li.
Ever since he agreed to participate in Ke Li’s competition, the other had been overly excited, flooding him with messages. But when Yan Chuan replied, he took his time, taking almost half an hour to type a single sentence.
Now, Ke Li was asking where he wanted to go after the match. Before Yan Chuan could respond, he began to ramble, behaving like a lovesick schoolboy instead of the proud, cool guy he usually was—a true promotional staff for scenic spots.
Of course, he looked more like a dog waiting for a message every half hour.
“Anywhere is fine,” Yan Chuan responded reluctantly after being forced to read a long list of restaurant and attraction recommendations. “I don’t mind; you can decide.”
In truth, it was because Yan Chuan didn’t really know what K City had to offer, and he couldn’t articulate any coherent suggestions.
Ke Li replied quickly, as if glued to the chatbox: “Okay.”
“I’ll plan well,” he typed, looking very conflicted. “The match will end in two hours; what time are you planning to head home? Should I walk you back?”
When Ke Li typed that, a few teammates were also standing behind him.
If Yan Chuan were there, he could probably tell by their voices that they had recently played games with him.
Of course, what they referred to as “playing games” actually meant “being a network dog’s neck.”
The screensaver now featured them, as the team was unusually aligned.
“Is he really coming?” Lian Zhan’s gaze was glued to Ke Li’s screen, practically wanting to snatch it away. “The beautiful ‘Little Bunny Sweetheart’ streamer?”
Ke Li was busy typing and didn’t even bother to glance at Lian Zhan. “Yes.”
He snorted, his attitude dropping from amiable to sarcastic: “I invited him; how could I not get him out?”
This statement seemed quite self-righteous, as if he weren’t the one who couldn’t eat or sleep well. Lian Zhan raised an eyebrow, holding back a smirk. “Oh, really? Who’s been nervous since the day before yesterday?”
They were still in the training base, spending the day together. Lian Zhan was keenly aware of how often Ke Li zoned out on his phone.
“Exactly,” said the usually quiet A, chiming in. “He’ll respond to all of us; Captain, you don’t need to think too highly of your own influence.”
The silence-loving teammate’s jibe made Ke Li furious, nearly losing face. He shot them a cold glare.
He was so consumed with thinking Lian Zhan was scheming, always liking to say something to impress the pretty little streamer, that he forgot about everyone else.
In their team, no one openly talked about it, but they were all well aware of the livestream, having followed it at who knows what levels since every night they tuned in to watch.
They even competed for teaming up when playing together live.
How shameless!
Did they just rush to pander because they saw someone pretty?
Ke Li condemned these teammates, completely oblivious to how long he took to think about when to send a simple greeting.
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