“I got it,” Heitao said, letting Yan Chuan control the strength and direction of the shot, causing them to draw closer due to the movement.
He took a step forward, his pants brushing against Yan Chuan’s slim, white calf, the distance around their waists nearly nonexistent.
The slightly elevated body temperature from those nearby seeped through the fabric, making Yan Chuan involuntarily shrink his shoulders, trying to minimize the space he occupied even more.
They were far too close.
Yan Chuan reacted strongly, but Heitao seemed blissfully unaware, or perhaps he was doing it on purpose. It felt a little mischievous, as if he wanted to see Yan Chuan’s lips pressed together in confusion, not knowing where to hide.
Heitao kept holding him, guiding him to hit the remaining balls on the table one by one.
The sound of balls sinking into pockets filled his ears, mixed with a low voice, yet Yan Chuan couldn’t direct his thoughts away from the game.
His face flushed, ears burning, and he felt as if his little bunny tail was being rubbed against.
It was probably the fabric; it wasn’t rough at all. But the area just below his lower back was so sensitive and private, it couldn’t withstand the slightest touch.
Not to mention that the situation was quite delicate; if it weren’t for the unchanged tone in Heitao’s voice, Yan Chuan might have suspected something else entirely.
Yet he had no evidence and didn’t dare to turn around for confirmation, so he could only stare intently at the pool table.
If Yan Chuan really was just a little rabbit with a short white tail, he would want nothing more than to curl up into a ball.
A ball of white fluff that someone might pick up and tug at its tail.
“Clean shot.” When Yan Chuan zoned out, only a few balls remained on the table.
Heitao clasped his wrist, hitting the cue ball at a tricky angle, causing it to strike other balls, all sinking into the pockets.
Was it over?
Yan Chuan looked at the table, hesitating to let go of the cue.
It must be time to end, right?
He thought randomly, even though Heitao called it instruction, he couldn’t find the right strength to hit the balls, it was always Heitao exerting force on his wrist.
Although he didn’t know what role he was playing, the outcome seemed fine overall?
After all, he hadn’t come to learn how to play snooker.
“All done,” Yan Chuan moved his wrist, lowering his eyelids: “You can let go now.”
Once the cue was no longer in play, Heitao’s hold felt abrupt. Yan Chuan also found it a bit awkward, seeking a way to distance himself from the table.
“I’ll go check how the livestream is doing,” Yan Chuan offered a somewhat clever excuse: “See if they’re saying I played poorly.”
His gaze fell on Heitao’s pale, slender hand, and he subconsciously moved his wrist, urging him to release him quickly.
It was over, so he really shouldn’t be holding his hand anymore, right?
Even without looking at the screen, Yan Chuan knew what the comments in the livestream had developed into.
By their words, his “hubby” roster was probably expanding again.
Just thinking about it made Yan Chuan feel his cheeks heat up even more.
He was just trying to play his role as a little streamer, there was nothing malicious about it, yet the fans in the livestream all said he was being unfaithful to multiple partners.
One Corey was already enough; at least that was a teammate during gaming sessions. And Lin Zhan could also count, since they were on the same team.
There was also Li, who lived nearby and recently appeared in his streams as the “househusband,” leading the audience to think he had become someone’s little wife.
Evan and Qi Yan’s fans didn’t know what they looked like, but even the background during that livestream made them believe that they surely had a thing going on with their boss.
If they knew where his thin socks had gone, they could have guessed something real too.
Yan Chuan counted carefully: Corey, Li, Evan, Qi Yan, and now Heitao—by carefully counting, he realized he had had close interactions with five men in this script.
Five in total!
In real life, he hadn’t even met that many unfamiliar men before; how could he have imagined that he would maintain such relationships with NPCs in this escape variety show?
He felt a bit like a bad person himself.
Thinking this way, Yan Chuan pursed his lips, casting a few more urgent glances at Heitao.
Finally, Heitao released his hand.
He stepped toward the screen, a faint smile showing beneath his mask, speaking clearly enough for the livestream to hear: “Looking forward to our next collaboration.”
The other little streamer nodded, responding carelessly: “Next time, next time.”
Yan Chuan shuffled over to the screen.
The flush on his cheeks still hadn’t faded; he turned slightly to touch his cheeks, confirming they were still a bit hot.
The one responsible for all this maintained a natural demeanor, still whispering compliments about how clever he was.
Yan Chuan took a deep breath.
“Let’s stop here,” he nodded, wanting to quickly conclude this livestream, suggesting, “I can wrap up after checking the comments.”
Then, he would thank the users who sent gifts, say a word of thanks to everyone for watching, and he could go home.
Heitao had no objections, but the surprisingly flustered expression of the pretty little streamer clearly amused him.
“Okay.” He nodded, opening the livestream comments.
[I was crying the whole time. The reason? Maybe because my wife was taken away by someone else today, even her tail was tugged at by a wild man; I’m going to have a good cry!]
[Tears flowing out of my mouth—why can’t we also have a camera on the floor? I really want to see from a floor perspective, watching my wife’s cute little round backside…]
[I declare that my wife has gained another husband candidate.]
[Was that really just playing pool? My wife’s face was so red; something definitely happened, woo woo woo.]
[@Corey @Lin Zhan @A, come quickly! Someone’s stealing my wife!]
…
Yan Chuan felt as if his face must have turned completely red.
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