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The livestream was effectively ruined by Le Xi's interruption, and the Director could only helplessly let the others start leaving.

Xin Wan stared at Ying Huai, then suddenly scoffed: 'It's already this obvious—does little shidi still want to argue?'

Ying Huai gave Xin Wan an unreadable look, then suddenly laughed lightly: 'Obvious?'

What Xin Wan hated most was that indifferent way Ying Huai had with him.

His fingers tightened, then he suddenly leaned down, closing the distance to Ying Huai: 'The surveillance footage the marketing accounts just released captured that door perfectly clearly—and it looks a lot like the room little shidi was in during the show.'

Ying Huai's entire weight was propped against Xin Wan's arm. He was forced to lift his head and look at the person in front of him.

A smile instantly rose at the corner of Xin Wan's lips.

He glanced at the livestream room not far away, then deliberately inched closer: 'Whether this is real or not, we can just check the show footage when we get back—does little shidi need me to look it up right now?'

The bullet comments in the livestream couldn't hear what the two were saying, but they could see their movements.

Some of Xin Wan's fans immediately blew up.

[What is Ying Huai doing?]

[? Xin Wan and Ying Huai—one a singer, one an artist—are they actually this close?]

[Not close, not meeting up, don't come trying to ride our artist's coattails, thanks.]

Xin Wan, as one of Ying Huai's former teammates, had terminated his contract with the company and switched careers to become an artist.

He had never actually been that interested in debuting.

—Not even as interested as he was in Ying Huai.

He had extraordinary natural talent for painting, but his family believed painting had no future.

His family pressured him into signing with the management company, but after Ying Huai left the company, Xin Wan gradually started giving up on himself.

Without Ying Huai there, even Lu Jing couldn't keep him in line; in less than half a year, Xin Wan had fallen out of the debut lineup.

Later, when Xin Wan terminated his contract with the company, he had nowhere to go—until a painting he'd submitted at some unknown point years ago was suddenly accepted.

A new agent reached out, and Xin Wan quickly went viral on the online platform. Combined with his naturally casual, unrestrained personality, he soon drew a massive following.

But Xin Wan wasn't satisfied.

Ying Huai remembered that in his previous life, what Xin Wan had valued most was a painting award.

Xin Wan had wanted to use that award to prove to his family that painting wasn't worthless.

Ying Huai looked at Xin Wan with interest for a few seconds, then turned to glance at the bullet comments.

The fans in the comments were still indignantly defending Xin Wan.

[Xin Wan hates Ying Huai to death, okay? He originally had a locked-in debut spot, but Ying Huai left and all those years of practice were wasted. If Xin Wan didn't still have his painting skills, he would have been completely destroyed by Ying Huai.]

[And I remember, Xin Wan even mocked Ying Huai's show on Weibo, saying he'd absolutely never watch something that purely cashed in on gimmicks.]

[Huh? Where's Swear Brother? Why isn't he showing up this time? I was waiting to keep watching him keep swearing.]

[Doesn't matter, anyway, Xin Wan absolutely cannot have any connection with Ying Huai.]

Inside the livestream room the fans were arguing fiercely; outside it, Xin Wan's hand supporting Ying Huai was gripping tighter and tighter.

He was waiting for Ying Huai to either get angry or go silent like usual—but the next second, Ying Huai suddenly laughed.

'Shixiong watched my show?'

Xin Wan froze.

The livestream bullet comments froze too.

Xin Wan instinctively denied it: 'I didn't.'

'Shixiong just said the door in the surveillance was "obviously" "similar" to my door in the show.'

Ying Huai spoke unhurriedly: 'I don't even remember which segment in the show filmed my door, yet shixiong can immediately go back and find it.'

Ying Huai lifted his head with a smile: 'Shixiong watched much more carefully than I did.'

Xin Wan: ??

His first reaction wasn't anger, but a smile of amused interest: 'After not seeing little shidi for so long, you've gotten quite sharp-tongued.'

Before Xin Wan finished speaking, he suddenly saw the person in front of him show a look of sudden realization: 'Right, I remember these behind-the-scenes clips don't appear in the main episode.'

Ying Huai looked up at Xin Wan, speaking with some surprise: 'Shixiong even paid for VIP for me.'

Xin Wan: ......

His arm around Ying Huai's waist instantly tightened—but the next second, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen.

Ying Huai stepped back, unhurriedly withdrawing his elbow.

He looked at the person clutching his abdomen and uncontrollably bending over, the corner of his lips curving slightly: 'Since shixiong is a VIP, you should get VIP treatment.'

'Shixiong should have felt it, right?'

Ying Huai hadn't held back at all with that hit just now—Xin Wan was in so much pain that cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead.

Ying Huai turned and continued walking out, when he suddenly heard Xin Wan laughing inexplicably behind him: 'Little shidi didn't hit hard enough.'

Xin Wan gritted his teeth and straightened up, speaking unhurriedly: 'Looks like little shidi still feels sorry for shixiong.'

Ying Huai: ???

He was so angry he laughed: 'If shixiong is sick, go get treated—don't waste time here with me.'

'Did I say something wrong?' Xin Wan stared at Ying Huai, speaking slowly: 'Otherwise why is little shidi wearing clothes I designed?'

Ying Huai paused.

Because of his fever and fear of the cold, he was wearing a cream-colored turtleneck sweater today. His peach-blossom eyes carried a faint mist, giving him an oddly gentle, innocent air.

And on the left side of the sweater, near the heart, two intertwined red-and-black letters were drawn—exactly Xin Wan's signature style.

The livestream bullet comments clearly noticed this too, and instantly exploded.

[Oh my god, what's going on? Is Ying Huai a fan of Xin Wan's?]

[......Stop being disgusting, okay? Xin Wan clearly doesn't like Ying Huai. Could it be that Ying Huai stole Xin Wan's clothes back when they were teammates?]

[I remember Xin Wan usually likes to design his own clothes and accessories. He doesn't sell them, but he gives some to friends. Could Ying Huai have bought one at a high price from somewhere?]

[Right, right—Ying Huai must have known Xin Wan was also coming to the livestream, so he deliberately got a piece of clothing Xin Wan designed to try to win him over, so Xin Wan would help him clear his dirt, right?]

[Possible—after all, Xin Wan has a lot of traffic now, and he's a former teammate. Having him speak up would have a big impact.]

[Ah, this—isn't Ying Huai being too outrageous?]

Ying Huai was also somewhat surprised.

He'd been sick and half-conscious these past few days. That morning his older brother had finally managed to drag him out of bed; he'd grabbed a white sweater at random that Ying Qi insisted looked good and come straight over.

He looked down at his clothes for a few seconds, his peach-blossom eyes flickered, then he slowly spoke: 'Shixiong says this clothing was designed by shixiong?'

'What else?' Xin Wan's expression was full of smugness.

'But this style looks like it's from a long time ago. Could little shidi have dug it out from the things I left at the company back then?'

He bent down slightly, leaning closer to Ying Huai: 'If little shidi had said earlier you were my fan, I would have given you some new clothes.'

'Shixiong has it backwards,' Ying Huai looked down and opened his phone, searching for something, smiling casually: 'Isn't it that shixiong is my fan?'

Xin Wan paused.

The next second, he instantly smiled: 'Little shidi wants me to become your fan that badly?'

'Fine, I swear—as long as little shidi can prove the origin of this clothing, I'll be little shidi's fan—'

'Xin Wan, enough.' Lu Jing, who had just finished a phone call nearby, saw this scene and stepped forward frowning.

'What, is Lu-shixiong going soft?' Apart from having listened to Ying Huai in the past, Xin Wan paid no attention to anyone else.

He glanced down at Lu Jing's phone, speaking pointedly: 'Lu-shixiong should take care of his own affairs first.'

Lu Jing paused. He ended the call from Father Lu that had come through again, and spoke quietly: 'You'll regret this, Xin Wan.'

Xin Wan was unmoved—but the next second, Ying Huai suddenly raised his hand and held his phone up to Xin Wan's eyes.

It was a Weibo post Ying Huai had made a few years ago, with a screenshot of a chat.

—On it was clearly a conversation between Ying Huai and Xin Wan.

[Xin: Ying little Huai, when are you going to wear that piece of clothing I gave you?]

[Ying: ......You want me to wear a sweater in the middle of summer?]

[Xin: You said the same thing last week! Then you came back, caught cold, and got a fever! Scared Lu Jing half to death—he almost carried you to the Hospital in the middle of the night.]

[Ying: ......Don't mention that, and I'll consider it.]

[Xin: Just remember to wear it!]

[Ying: Fine, fine, but is there anything special about that sweater?]

[Xin: [You guess.gif]]

'This sweater was given to me by shixiong,' Ying Huai put away his phone, looking up with a half-smile: 'Shixiong begged me to wear it back then—how could you have forgotten?'

Xin Wan's face turned ashen.

Not long after this sweater was given, Ying Huai had suddenly jumped ship to Lu's company.

Xin Wan grew to hate Ying Huai deeply, deliberately avoiding any memories related to him, and over time forgot about this entirely.

'What shixiong just said yourself, you should still remember, right?' Ying Huai put away his phone, the corner of his lips curving slightly: 'Shixiong won't go back on your word, will you?'

Xin Wan suddenly laughed.

'So Lu-shixiong had already colluded with little shidi beforehand, leading me into a trap.' A flash of jealousy crossed Xin Wan's expression.

Lu Jing frowned. Xin Wan opened his mouth to continue, but suddenly felt dizzy before his eyes.

He frowned, instinctively shook his head—but a memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.

In front of the morgue, Liang Shining stood coldly blocking him, while Lu Jing held him back desperately.

[Ying Huai can't be dead!] Xin Wan's eyes burst with red veins. He tried to push Lu Jing away, lunging toward the white cloth ahead: [You're lying to me—you're all lying to me!]

[I went to see him just last week—he couldn't—]

[You went to see him last week. What did you do to him?] Liang Shining suddenly spoke up beside him.

Xin Wan's body stiffened. He listened as Liang Shining spoke word by word: [Mockery? Abuse? Forcing him to submit to your will?]

[Ying Huai is dead,] Liang Shining looked down at the emotionally collapsed Xin Wan, speaking quietly: [We all played a part.]

·

Xin Wan pressed his forehead, suddenly coming back to himself.

This memory had appeared out of nowhere—Xin Wan didn't know what had happened, but the panic and sorrow in his heart couldn't be dispelled even now.

That panic reached its peak when Xin Wan saw Ying Huai turn to leave: 'Wait!'

Ying Huai's feet didn't stop—but the next second, he felt his phone buzz.

['@Xin Wan' followed '@Ying Huai'.]

'I'm your fan now.' Xin Wan, panicked, blocked Ying Huai's path.

His mind was filled with only one thought—he couldn't let Ying Huai out of his sight.

He stared at Ying Huai, then suddenly spoke: 'I'm hungry. Treat me to a meal.'

Ying Huai: ?

Xin Wan looked at Ying Huai, his voice unconsciously carrying a hint of pleading: 'You can't ignore your fan.'

Ying Huai: ......