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The stream had ended.
Qin Shi leaned back, about to shut the PC, when gift messages still flickered in the chat.
Qin Shi (mutters): “Turns out the cat’s owner is also a short‑video creator—‘Fantasy Rhapsody’… Two‑hundred‑plus K followers?”
On a whim he clicked Follow, then logged off.
A team‑mate’s text popped up: “We’ve found the two girls who pushed her.”
—“Hand them and the evidence to the police,” he replied. “And don’t let her know it was me.”
Morning, police station
Li Huan‑huan learned that the culprits had been reported by an anonymous “concerned citizen.” She could imagine who.
She had stayed home, blocked every contact from Qin Shi’s circle, even hired a “feed‑the‑cat & take‑out‑trash” service so she never opened the door.
The jade necklace had been returned through cousin Pepper: only then did she learn it had really cost eight figures at auction.
Life shrank to a strict hermit routine: making videos, streaming “Lord Cat,” cooking, sleeping.
Thanks largely to one lavish donor—No‑Hot‑Pot‑Just‑BBQ—the pet channel passed 1 M followers; the main channel broke 2 M.
Now the platform announced its 10‑year gala and “Top Ten New‑comer” awards. Fans begged her to attend, especially since rival pet account Little Meng‑meng had confirmed.
During the nightly stream, chat exploded:
Viewer: “If Lord Cat enters, I’ll vote all my coins!”
Another: “Come on, beat Little Meng‑meng!”
The mysterious donor showered yachts again, but the mood felt oddly gloomy.
To return Fox’s dry‑cleaned blazer she ventured out for the first time in half a month, meeting him at an amusement park.
Before greeting him she overheard two teenage girls complaining:
“Fox, you can’t ignore us! Sister Zhang told us to shove that woman into the pool so she’d embarrass Star—now he’s after us!”
The push… had been ordered by Fox.
Confronted, Zhang Can‑yang finally admitted:
“I hated seeing you with Qin Shi—why can’t it be me?
I recognised you the moment I saw you, Circle‑jie, but you didn’t remember me…”
He was the childhood “Little Sun.” Overwhelmed, he left, wounded; she mailed the blazer back.
That night she extended the broadcast, playing extra with Lord Cat.
Across the hall, Qin Shi—logged in as No‑Hot‑Pot‑Just‑BBQ—watched in silence while his Husky pawed the dark screen.
Now the anniversary gala looms.
Fans press her to appear; rival camps line up.
And in chat someone asks the donor:
“Hot‑pot Boss, if Fantasy attends the gala, will you show up too?”