On the other end of the line, Qiu Yihe couldn't believe what she was hearing.
She pulled the phone away from her ear in disbelief.
A glance at the caller ID confirmed it really was Jiang Cheng.
Her drowsy face twisted into a teeth-gnashing scowl.
'Jiang! Cheng!' Her voice snapped from lazy to furious, punctuated by the rustle of a quilt being kicked away.
A loud thud followed, as if she'd jumped up and slammed into something.
'Ow, that hurts—Jiang Cheng, you bastard, you woke me in the middle of the night to ask if I peed?'
Even through the phone Jiang Cheng could feel her homicidal glare.
He rubbed his nose, guilty.
'It's… not just about that,' he muttered, lacking confidence.
Out of respect for who he was, Qiu Yihe swallowed another curse.
'Then spit it out—what else could you want at this hour?'
He pursed his lips, thought hard, and came up blank.
In the end he offered weakly, 'Well… I also wanted to know: have you gone to pee yet?'
'Jiang Cheng!!!' Another roar.
'I just finished a 48-hour field op! Forty-eight! You know how much sleep I've had?'
A pillow smacked the wall in the background. 'I was dreaming of busting traffickers and you woke me to talk about pee!'
Jiang Cheng held the phone farther away.
'Officer Qiu, calm down. I'm only concerned for our people's-police kidneys; holding it is bad for the bladder…'
'Like hell!' she cut in. 'Keep it up and I'll come over with my gun and show you what "urgency, frequency, incomplete voiding" feels like!'
He finally laughed. 'Come anytime. My new smart toilet even runs a urinalysis…'
Gurgling sounded as she chugged water, then growled: 'You jerk, wait there. I'm drinking two liters and coming to your door!'
'Two liters? Better train that bladder first—wouldn't want a mis-aim.'
If any other Girl heard that, she'd die of embarrassment.
But to Qiu Yihe it was water off a duck's back.
'Please—I won the Narcotics Bureau "Bladder Endurance" cup. Waste of breath talking to some kidney-weak man. I'm going back to sleep. Call again and tomorrow I'll sell your number to a urology clinic!'
She hung up.
Jiang Cheng stared at the screen, grin unstoppable.
He knew her temper: next time they met she'd beat him black-and-blue—yet he looked forward to it.
Meanwhile Little Crispy, once Jiang Cheng went offline, also found an excuse to end her stream.
The second she did, a tall beauty in a red slip dress strode over.
Long-legged, statuesque, every curve on display.
'OMG, Xiao-Xiao, who was that guy?'
Little Crispy gave a half-hearted shrug. 'He's my bo—' She caught herself.
Revealing Jiang Cheng's identity was forbidden by Shen Zheng and Xie Bing.
It protected his privacy—and goaded other top supporters into spending more.
'He's a top supporter,' she corrected.
Yuan Jing beside her turned green with envy.
'All those buddha jumps over the wall gifts—each a thousand yuan—that's tens of thousands…'
'A hundred of them. One hundred thousand.'
A covetous flicker crossed Yuan Jing's eyes.
'I'm so jealous. You play a few games and rake in 100k. Me? I dance on TikTok till I'm dripping sweat for a couple of hundred a night.'
Yuan Jing had been Little Crispy's roommate back when they first started streaming in Chengdu.
One gamed, the other flirted on camera; different platforms kept them from clashing.
Later Little Crispy moved from Chengdu to Shanghai after signing with her platform.
This trip back for an event saw her staying in Yuan Jing's flat again.
'I usually don't earn that much…' Little Crispy sighed, reluctant to explain.
Yuan Jing rolled her eyes, sure Little Crispy feared she'd steal her top supporter.
'Come on, tell me—how old is he? Balding beer-belly uncle? Relax, we're on different apps, I can't poach your top supporter.'
The memory of Jiang Cheng surfaced—his charm far outshone even Liu Yuning she'd brought along last time.
No uncle in sight.
Her gaze dropped to her phone.
'Of course not. He's really handsome…'
'You've met him?' Yuan Jing squeaked.
'Once, briefly,' Little Crispy admitted.
'So you two have already…'
'No! Nothing!' she cut in. 'He hasn't even asked me out. He only watches when he games. Last time was ages ago…'
'What?' Yuan Jing gaped. 'Never watches yet throws you 100k? That's insane.'
She'd assumed the mystery man was Little Crispy's loyal top supporter.
'Exactly. He barely shows up, never chats,' Little Crispy sighed, defeated.
Yuan Jing's eyes narrowed, a calculating glint hidden.
She sized Little Crispy up.
In looks she conceded defeat, but those long legs of hers were the weapon men preferred.