Chapter 16

And you still don’t feel bad for me?
The other side had already gone offline. Ye Muyang tossed his phone aside, turned on his computer, and started editing video.
He hadn’t streamed recently, and rumors about him had begun flying everywhere. A lot of people were even saying he’d gone to Korea for “repair work.” His face had always been called the most successful template face. Before, some people even DM’d him asking which clinic he used, saying the results looked so natural.
Ye Muyang could only laugh helplessly.
To dispel rumors this time, he intentionally recorded the entire tooth-extraction process and made a daily vlog episode.
For the recovery period after that, he planned to turn it into an “observation diary,” updating every day.
That way he could stabilize fans, keep interacting with them, and also shut up some haters—so they’d stop saying he went to shave his jaw.
Seriously ridiculous.
He spent most of the day fiddling with video editing, post-dub, and subtitles. Only when his stomach started protesting with loud growls did he finally finish.
Ye Muyang stretched and rubbed his sore neck, then noticed it was already 6:30 p.m.
Outside, sunlight was still bright. Without checking the time, you’d think it was only around four.
He flopped onto the bed to grab his phone, ready to order takeout.
There was a message from 5:10 p.m.
Ye Muyang tapped in. It was from Joice, with only one short line:
[I don’t dislike it.]
If he didn’t dislike it, that meant he liked it.
If he liked hearing him say “husband,” that meant he had accepted the relationship in his heart!
Ye Muyang couldn’t suppress the upward curl of his lips.
See? Straight men need forced love! They need green-tea tactics to heal them!
Mianmian: [Then can we online-date now? Husband.]
When Ji Zhou got off work, several close colleagues dragged him to a gathering. He wanted to decline, but everyone was in high spirits, and he didn’t want to spoil it.
At the table, Dr. Wu urged him to drink a little. Ji Zhou’s alcohol tolerance wasn’t actually strong, but maybe because of his personality, even when he wasn’t fully clear-headed, his face showed almost nothing.
His behavior and manner stayed the same as usual, except for a faintly flushed red on his fair face.
The gathering only ended after full nightfall.
Ji Zhou called a designated driver, first dropping off two women who lived along the route, then having the driver return his car to his neighborhood.
Only when he was bracing himself against the wall and stumbling upstairs did his slight drunkenness show.
The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell flickered on and off; luckily his floor wasn’t high, and he reached home soon.
After opening the door, he didn’t even change his shoes and went straight to sit by the sofa.
His head throbbed dully. He lifted a hand and pinched the space between his brows.
After resting with eyes closed for a short while, he took out his phone to check messages.
He was certain Mianmian must have replied.
And he was right.
Mianmian: [Then can we online-date now? Husband.]
Ji Zhou blinked, confirming he had read it correctly.
He suddenly remembered what Li Meiling and Chen Huai had said to him.
“Don’t punish yourself for other people’s mistakes. It isn’t worth it.”
“If you don’t know how to love, someone will teach you. But first, you have to give others a chance.”
He admitted alcohol played a part. There was also his desire to prove to others—and to himself—that he was emotionally normal. But most importantly, he truly wanted to try.
With all kinds of feelings mixed together, he typed one word:
[Okay.]
After the message sent, he stared quietly at the screen.
He watched the little dot beside Mianmian’s avatar turn from gray to green, then saw her reply:
[Really?]
Joice: [Really.]
Mianmian: [Will doctor play me like a dog?]
Joice: [No.]
Mianmian: [Can I call you on voice now?]
Ji Zhou hesitated.
He already didn’t talk much. Chatting with someone he had never met face-to-face left him even less sure what to say.
He feared that prolonged, awkward silence would crack their newly established relationship immediately.
Maybe because he took too long to reply, Mianmian sent another line:
[I’ll talk, you just listen.]
Joice: [You just had a tooth pulled. Talk less. Doesn’t it hurt?]
Mianmian: [Doctor finally opened up. You even know how to care about me now.]
Mianmian: [Is this the difference between a girlfriend and an online friend?]
Ji Zhou smiled faintly and replied:
[Mm.]
Mianmian: [Then from now on, can you stop giving me the cold-violence treatment?]
Joice: [When did I?]
Mianmian: [[Image]]
She sent two chat screenshots—both proof that after she spoke, he read but didn’t reply.
Mianmian: [I can’t stand cold violence.]
Mianmian: [[wronged]]
Joice: [It won’t happen again.]
Mianmian: [Then can you call me something sweet now and coax me?]
Ji Zhou thought for a long time. In a girl’s eyes, what counted as an affectionate address?
After thinking it through and through, he finally typed two words:
[Beauty.]
Mianmian: […]
Mianmian: [Doctor, when I go buy clothes now, even sales assistants call me “dear.”]
Joice: [Oh. Male assistant or female assistant?]
Mianmian: [Is that the point?]
Joice: [No.]
Joice: [Then what should I call you?]
The answer came quickly from the other side:
[Your skin is so thin. If I ask you to call me wife right now, you definitely can’t say it. So let’s start with “baby.”]
Mianmian: [Say it once for me to hear? By voice message, okay? Husband.]
Ji Zhou stared at his phone for a long time.
That word rolled over and over on his tongue, but he still couldn’t press the voice-record button.
Two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes...
Time passed second by second.
Mianmian was the first to cave and compromise:
[Alright, forget it. It’s already late. Rest early.]
[Good night.]
Ji Zhou’s Adam’s apple moved. He felt that from the very beginning, it had always been Mianmian accommodating him.
He was twisted, distant, and kept draining her enthusiasm again and again.
For a girl, that was truly unfair.