Chapter 52 – Something Slams Into Her Heart…

Qin Shi’s casual remark freezes Li Huan‑huan mid‑keystroke.

“Do you… already know?” she ventures.

Blue LED light halos him in the gaming chair as he grins. “Know what, jie?”

Those bright, laughing eyes give him away. Her brows twitch, then smooth as she admits, “You’ve figured out I’m Your Highness the Cat.”

He hums affirmatively.

“When?” She runs through the possibilities, dismisses Dongfang Jiao’s promise of silence, and finally hears him say the trigger word: “Fantasia.”

Mortification floods her. Of course. The stick‑figure vlogs on her side account @Fantasia replay every shared incident—hot‑pot vs. barbecue, fever, pool mishap, fake‑couple wedding… Any sharp viewer could connect the dots; the male lead of a novel certainly would.

Qin explains: laid‑up with his leg in a cast, he finally binge‑watched the “healing cartoons” he’d bookmarked months ago. Familiar cat, familiar husky, identical adventures—plus Barbecue’s inexplicable devotion to that white cat. A quick probe call to Jiao and the puzzle was complete.

He planned this reveal carefully, knowing her “ostrich reflex.” First mention the hiatus, gauge her reaction—sure enough, she panicked.

“I’m sorry for using our stories without asking,” she mumbles into her knees, ears scarlet.

“I’m not angry.” His voice softens. “Writers and directors do that all the time—turn real moments into art.”

Then, teasing: “So, in the cartoon, is the cat paired with the dog?”

“Absolutely not! They’re just friends!” she blurts, mortified again—especially since that dog’s personality borrows liberally from him.

He pouts theatrically, presses for the husky’s onscreen name—she stalls—he requests “Barbecue.” Cornered, she agrees.

Finally she thanks him for months of anonymous support. He smiles. “If you really want to thank me, start streaming again.”

Her eyes widen.

“You froze the channel because you realized Hot‑Pot‑or‑Barbecue is me and felt awkward, right? Now that everything’s out, there’s no need. Besides…” He leans forward, gaze gentle but unyielding. “You say it doesn’t matter, yet you can’t let that account go, can you, jie?”

The words land like a hammer against her ribs—loud, undeniable—and her heartbeat answers in the silence.