UCTOOT CH139.3: Extra

As a result, Shi Shu’s stream had practically become a meme: a verified million-follower creator who had never won a single PK, totally devoid of commercial sponsorship, a pure blank-slate streamer.

Shi Shu: “You want a PK battle again? Fine.”

Shi Shu initiated a match. His opponent was roughly in his follower tier, likely a prominent creator. Finding Shi Shu’s handle unfamiliar, the other streamer clicked over to inspect: “Oh, an aesthetics-focused streamer?”

Comments instantly flashed across the opponent’s screen: [Boss! That guy’s a bust! His fans are notoriously stingy; if you battle him, our chat won’t bother dropping votes either.]

The streamer took one look and said, “Never mind then.”

With that, he disconnected the match.

Shi Shu: “…”

[HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! SO SATISFYING!]

[AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!]

[Streamer, queue another one, queue another!]

Shi Shu couldn’t help laughing: “You guys only get happy when you see me taking L’s.” His viewers were all joking around, mostly fellow college students. Shi Shu didn’t have wealthy benefactors; once, when an older woman dropped a massive tip, he had promptly refunded the money.

Shi Shu: “One more match! After this one, I’m logging off.”

This time, the screen connected to a streaming crew. Their follower count was smaller than his, but they also leaned into the aesthetic category. The man on the other side was covered in tattoos across his face and neck, sporting dangling earrings, a lip ring, and vivid crimson-dyed hair—intense and aggressive.

Shi Shu: “Hello.”

“—Anyway, I was at the club, and a whole flock of girls was circling around me…” The man’s voice echoed through the stream. Glancing at Shi Shu, he muted him without a second thought, casually carrying on his chat with his own audience, not even bothering to look at him as the PK timer began.

Shi Shu: “Who is that guy?”

[I know him. A trust-fund rich boy. His entire page is luxury cars, antiques, private villas, and global flights—vibes are super pretentious.]

[He’s notorious. His own gifter account is level 75.]

[His family is filthy rich, heir to some corporation I forgot the name of. His chat is full of greasy sycophants who tune in daily to soak up his toxic playboy advice. Pretty disgusting.]

[Streamer, streamer, you’re about to get crushed this round.]

Shi Shu: “…When have I ever won?”

[Normally we love watching you lose as punishment for not uploading running clips, but this time it doesn’t feel fun at all.]

[We want to help, but we literally can’t outspend him.]

[Call me big sister, and big sister will drop votes for you.]

Shi Shu clicked onto the guy’s profile: “No need for that—wait, is this video featuring your husband?”

[Ungrateful brat!]

[Hahahahaha why did the only sugar mommy leave again?!]

Shi Shu: “I wasn’t being passive-aggressive, I was genuinely just asking.”

[Hahaha! Stop asking!]

[Streamer, I’m willing to close this tab for five minutes. Not because I don’t love you, but because I can’t stomach watching something so brutal. Fight this battle yourself; I’ll be back in five.]

[Can’t stand watching a greasy creep win. See you in five minutes.]

[Streamer, your humble subject retreats for now.]

Shi Shu: “?”

“…”

Every single stream was like this. Shi Shu could only laugh, though there were plenty of sweet viewers in the mix.

[Tapped the screen to send little hearts, hope it helps!]

[Streamer, sending all my free daily gifts to you!]

Yet the moment a few votes trickled in on Shi Shu’s side, the other side responded like a rabid dog, ruthlessly burying his score beneath a wave of paid gifts. Seeing Shi Shu’s clean, handsome face and large female following, trolls from the opponent’s chat even began flooding in to leave insults:

[Only this many votes? Thought this guy could actually put up a fight.]

[A million followers? Botted for sure.]

[Young Master’s Army invading—]

[Hurry up and vote, broke fans.]

Shi Shu grabbed a throw pillow, resting his chin on it as he looked at the screen: “Guys, are we ever doing a PK again after this?”

[Don’t bully our streamer…]

[All of you trolls get the hell out!]

Shi Shu rubbed his forehead: “When I actually lose, you get upset. Look at the mess we’re in now.”

[Hahahahaha laughing through the pain hahahaha!!]

Fortunately, outside of sports, Shi Shu was rarely competitive; it was merely a mild annoyance.

Right at that moment, an unranked, blank-profile account with the ID “Forest” appeared in Shi Shu’s chat.

[Call me gege, and gege will buy your votes.]

Shi Shu clicked on the profile: “Hey bro, back off! No homos! Straight, straight, straight! Don’t you dare send gross photos!”

Then, Shi Shu saw the profile picture: a black tattoo design set against a stark white background.

“?”

Shi Shu turned around. The bedroom door stood ajar. Clad in a light-colored cashmere sweater, Xie Wuchi was leaning against the doorframe, his video call clearly concluded. He held his phone in one hand, giving it a subtle tilt toward Shi Shu.

[Straight?]

Shi Shu: “…”

Shi Shu turned back toward the webcam: “Can be bent.”

[Bent is fine.]

Shi Shu: “…”

Before Shi Shu could even figure out how to respond, celebratory fireworks erupted across the live room in deafening succession. One high-tier gift animation after another detonated across the screen, lagging the stream interface instantly as the gift progress bar surged upward in a vertical spike—

On the other side, the red-haired streamer had been casually boasting about his romantic exploits when the sudden explosion on Shi Shu’s gauge froze the words in his throat. His expression shifted: “Hold on, boys, what’s going on over there? Playing games with me? Pump the votes, everyone, drop everything!”

The opponent’s progress bar began racing upward as well.

[HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT! A WHALE HAS ARRIVED!]

[Holy crap, we’ve never fought such an affluent battle in our lives!]

[HOW MUCH IS THAT?! Count the zeroes! Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands… Bro, Dad, Grandfather…]

[My screen is completely covered in gift animations, I’m going blind!]

[Big bro, don’t waste your money! Normal people can’t outspend that trust-fund guy, look at his profile…]

[They have a whole agency team operating ten phones at once topping up accounts, we can’t beat them.]

Shi Shu squatted in his chair, glancing back at Xie Wuchi. He remained by the doorway without stepping into frame, keeping out of the camera’s view. His slender finger tapped lightly against his phone screen.

[“Forest” has sent 1,000 Abyssal Deepwaters]

The moment that colossal donation landed, the tattooed streamer surged to his feet, barking curses: “Are you fucking messing with me?! Who the hell—”

Shi Shu watched his live chat descend into complete pandemonium:

[HOLY FUCKING SHIT! A GENUINE SUGAR DADDY! WE’RE LOADED!]

[WE ACTUALLY WON THIS ROUND?!]

[INSANE INSANE INSANE!]

[This is unhinged, I screen-recorded the whole thing! Millions dropped in seconds—]

Shi Shu tapped out of the live room and shut off his phone. Xie Wuchi walked over: “Don’t worry. I’m not that foolish; the platform won’t pocket a single penny of my money.”

Shi Shu: “Finished with work?”

Xie Wuchi: “Mm. Finished the video conference. I plan to write in my journal and organize the day’s affairs.”

Shi Shu: “Sounds good. You write your journal, I’ll do my homework.”

After the digital chaos, Shi Shu remembered he still had unfinished coursework, pulling out his laptop beside him. After spending years together in ancient times, he had realized the most comfortable dynamic between them: beside Xie Wuchi, he could be completely himself without suppressing his nature or making forced concessions.

With Shi Shu beside him, Xie Wuchi’s restlessness settled into calm, reading, studying, and handling business at ease. Shi Shu could pursue his own tasks cheerfully, looked after by Xie Wuchi.

Beyond their shared sanctuary, most of the outside world only ever brought disturbance or harm.

The night deepened quietly. Outside the door, footsteps stirred as his parents returned from their evening stroll, walking through the living room. Rare as it was to have no evening study sessions to supervise, they usually turned in early.

Shi Shu worked on his group presentation slides, wrapping up around ten o’clock, drowsiness steadily creeping in.

Going through transmigration did have its perks: he had lost all interest in gaming or doomscrolling, growing sleepy the moment bedtime arrived.

Shi Shu walked up to Xie Wuchi, who was reviewing a document: “I’m heading to shower first. I’m sleepy.”

Xie Wuchi: “Go ahead.”

When Shi Shu emerged from the bathroom, Xie Wuchi took his turn. A short while later, having dried his hair, Xie Wuchi brought out his iPad to show him floor plans and photos: “Convincing your parents to let you move off-campus to live with me right now is difficult. We will move next semester instead; for now, stay with me on weekends and days with fewer classes. Here are photos of the apartment.”

Shi Shu: “I really don’t have to suffer a single ounce of hardship, huh?”

Xie Wuchi: “No hardship.”

Shi Shu nestled into the pillows, looking at the apartment: “I think it looks great. Wherever you are is good.”

Setting the tablet aside, Xie Wuchi leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. Lying in bed, leaning against his chest, Shi Shu gradually caught the patter of rain outside the window.

“It started raining? I love sleeping on rainy nights,” Shi Shu murmured. “Especially now with you here, I love rainy nights even more.”

Xie Wuchi: “Yet during rainy days in Dajing, it felt as though we were always on the march, consumed by relentless labor.”

Shi Shu: “That’s why I feel so happy right now. Peaceful, settled, the dust finally cleared.”

Shi Shu reached out, wrapping his arms around Xie Wuchi’s shoulders. Once pulled close, his jaw was cradled as Xie Wuchi deepened the kiss. Ever since returning from Xiangnan Temple to the Eastern Capital, Xie Wuchi had been intensely attached to kissing and holding him; by now, Shi Shu understood him completely.

That night, autumn rain fell until morning, cooling the air noticeably.

They ate breakfast together, had lunch with his parents, and packed into the car for the airport by afternoon. Bo Mo and Shi Lun drove them to the terminal, after which Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi boarded their first-class flight.

In the blink of an eye, the plane cut through the clouds, touching down near the capital around four or five in the afternoon.

With no evening classes, Shi Shu accompanied Xie Wuchi to inspect the apartment near campus. Furnishings were currently being delivered, the minimalist, refined decor aligning with Xie Wuchi’s aesthetic. Shi Shu had few opinions; he was far less discerning or particular about interior design than Xie Wuchi, perfectly content as long as Xie Wuchi was there.

Afterward, Shi Shu returned with Xie Wuchi to his secluded villa compound.

Lying in bed together to watch a movie, Shi Shu insisted on a horror film, watching through the gaps in his fingers. Whenever a jump scare appeared, he squeezed straight into Xie Wuchi’s chest.

Xie Wuchi: “Watch it properly.”

Shi Shu: “…”

Next, Xie Wuchi queued an arthouse film; Shi Shu fell fast asleep within five minutes.

Waking once with heavy eyelids, seeing the male and female leads conversing in English, pouring out emotional soliloquies, Shi Shu watched for thirty seconds before conking out again.

Xie Wuchi’s mother lived abroad, while his father resided in a designated governmental residential compound guarded by security personnel for administrative efficiency, currently in the ascent of his career without a single moment of leisure.

Xie Wuchi had always lived here alone. When night fell, all domestic staff departed.

There was a period when Xie Wuchi had lived alone in hotels for an entire year. Though the Xie family held real estate across the globe, ready to be prepared at a moment’s notice wherever he flew, he had always inhabited those spaces in solitary silence.

Like ordinary playboys, he could have easily picked up female or male companions for the night wherever he landed, paying them off after a few days of amusement. Yet he had chosen to live in absolute solitude.

“I have a home in Norway. In winter the snow is heavy and the daylight brief. There was a time when I grew fond of skiing and stayed in that house alone. Once the snow fell, outside the window looked like the edge of the world, devoid of anyone else.”

Xie Wuchi looked down at Shi Shu sleeping beside him: “I want to ski this winter as well.”

Shi Shu mumbled through his haze: “I’ll go with you.”

Xie Wuchi: “For how long?”

“Stay until you come back…” Listening to the audio of the movie, Shi Shu grew sleepier: “How long is this movie? Why isn’t it over yet?”

Xie Wuchi exited the arthouse film, opening another video file instead.

The moment the audio poured through the speakers, Shi Shu vaulted straight out of bed, staring in sheer horror at the footage projected onto the wall, screaming: “Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off! Shut it off right now! Xie Wuchi, I hate you! Hurry, hurry, hurry, shut it—”

Projected on the wall were two entwined silhouettes across a rumpled bed, bared skin buried against the pillows. A slender youth’s hair was gripped in a large, vein-lined hand, his nape held down as his frame rose and fell against an unrelenting, punishing pace.

Broken whimpers carried a faint sob, slender fingers clutching the sheets in white-knuckled desperation.

Shi Shu’s vision blacked out: “Xie Wuchi, I—”

Shi Shu clamped his hands over his eyes, only to be drawn firmly against Xie Wuchi’s chest, back pressed against him, hearing a low murmur beside his ear: “Don’t be afraid. Open your eyes and admire it properly.”

Shi Shu: “Xie Wuchi, you are an absolute pervert!”

Xie Wuchi’s voice was low and raspy: “Open your eyes.”

Burning all over, as if caught beneath an inescapable spell, Shi Shu peeked through his fingers—utterly appalled to see how wanton and uninhibited he and Xie Wuchi truly were. He clamped his hands over his ears, only for calloused fingers to tilt his jaw, capturing his lips in another kiss.

The audio, footage, and video finally cut off. Xie Wuchi kissed him, his breath warm and misty: “When you come to Norway with me this winter, inside that house, I intend to project these recordings for you every night, revisiting every single one.”

Shi Shu flailed in theatrical misery: “I don’t want to date you anymore, you lunatic!”

Xie Wuchi sealed his lips with an admonishing kiss: “Not allowed.”

Shi Shu: “I hate gay men. Being gay ruined my life.”

Xie Wuchi deepened the kiss, and Shi Shu’s arms instinctively wrapped around his back, holding him tight—like roots sinking deep into the earth.

Kissed until he was thoroughly breathless, Shi Shu gasped, “Ge, I have class tomorrow morning.”

Xie Wuchi didn’t release him: “I remember. Just a couple of kisses first. I will drive you to campus in the morning.”

Claiming a couple of kisses meant kissing him thoroughly and ravenously. Xie Wuchi was exceptionally skilled at kissing, cupping Shi Shu’s face with intoxicating sensuality—an aesthetic display Shi Shu had just witnessed firsthand in the video.

Once the kissing finally wound down, Shi Shu helped Xie Wuchi take care of his needs as well. Lying back on the bed and patting the duvet, knowing Xie Wuchi would drive him to school in the morning, Shi Shu sighed: “This is great. We’re the best of friends.”

Xie Wuchi: “Not dating anymore?”

Shi Shu: “You’re the person I love most, and also my best friend.”

Xie Wuchi: “Baobao.”

Turning his head, Shi Shu was gathered once more into his arms, hearing that magnetic, raspy voice whisper beside his ear: “Sleep, baobao.”

The morning sun was clear, the air crisp and dry under high, sweeping clouds.

Academic buildings stood in dense rows. As the class dismissal bell chimed, a young man clutching a stack of textbooks and wearing a plaid button-up pushed frantically through the throng of students. A classmate beside him called out:

“Zihan, heading to the lab?”

Du Zihan waved his hand dismissively: “No, no, no, I’m heading back to the dorm to crash.”

“Why? Bro, you haven’t been keeping up with lab hours lately. What gives? Burnt out and thinking of dropping out?”

Du Zihan: “No, what do you know? Lately I’ve fallen into scientific nihilism. I keep feeling parallel universes genuinely exist, you get me? I keep having recurring dreams of walking through ancient times, completely lost in unfamiliar lands. Good lord, mountains of corpses, seas of blood, arrows falling like rain, blinding blizzards… And there was this guy from Tsinghua next door who constantly looked like he wanted to beat me up, though luckily a close friend from Beijing Sport was always protecting me. But honestly, I can’t remember the exact details.”

His classmate deadpanned: “Did you get food poisoning from those group-buy budget meals?”

Du Zihan: “Delete that! I’m heading back to flesh out this dream lore.”

“Hey, your project stipend—remember to ask the advisor for it after the last milestone! Your project won an award!”

Clutching his books, Du Zihan hurried toward the dorms, but feeling his stomach rumble, he detoured toward the dining hall.

“Excuse me, classmate!”

Du Zihan dodged left—blocked. He dodged right—blocked again. On the verge of snapping, he looked up, met by a pair of smiling, clear eyes. A bright, handsome young man in a black T-shirt with fair skin stood grinning at him.

Du Zihan: “Who are you?”

Du Zihan looked closer, finding him oddly familiar: “Can I help you?”

Shi Shu said, “Classmate, my friend and I forgot our campus meal cards. Could we borrow yours to swipe?”

Du Zihan: “Sure. Come on, let’s head in together.”

Shi Shu walked alongside him. Du Zihan glanced at Shi Shu, then looked at the tall man standing beside him—wearing a crisp white shirt, carrying a tailored suit jacket over one arm. For reasons unknown, a single glance at that man triggered an instinctual shudder, like a phantom ache from having been beaten in a past life.

By contrast, the boyish handsome student felt exceptionally warm and familiar.

Shi Shu: “We came to campus looking for someone, but our stomachs started growling first.”

Du Zihan: “No problem. I was grabbing lunch anyway; I’ll swipe two portions for you.”

Shi Shu took the card: “Your name is Du Zihan?”

Du Zihan: “I know what you’re thinking, but my parents love me very much. They had no idea there would be so many ‘Zihans’ in the world.”

Shi Shu: “Aerospace and Astronautical Manufacturing Engineering?”

Du Zihan: “Decent enough.”

Reaching the counter, Du Zihan swiped for two meal sets. Shi Shu pulled out his phone: “Here, let’s add each other’s WeChat so I can transfer the money back to you.”

Du Zihan scrutinized him once more: “Sure—what’s your name?”

Shi Shu: “I’m Shi Shu. Why?”

Du Zihan: “You just look super familiar.”

Shi Shu nodded with absolute conviction: “Take a closer look at me.”

Du Zihan studied his face carefully, scratching his head: “You really do look familiar, but I just can’t place it.”

Shi Shu: “Take your time thinking. To keep you from forgetting me the second you walk away, I’ve decided not to pay you back for the food. That way you’ll remember me for the rest of your life.”

Du Zihan: “???? Wait, bro, are you seriously bullying an honest working student????”

Shi Shu’s face flushed from laughing: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Yet Du Zihan wasn’t angry; looking at Shi Shu, a smile broke across his own face: “Who are you, really?”

Shi Shu: “Well… do you remember when we boarded a boat together, got kicked off because we had no money, and you claimed that as an engineering major you knew how to build boats? We drifted down the river on that battered vessel until it capsized when reaching the open sea, and then we lived on that coastline for nearly half a year.”

Du Zihan’s expression shifted through several shades of shock: “You… you… are you Laifu?!”

Shi Shu: “…………”

All the sentimental, tear-jerking momentum Shi Shu had carefully cultivated evaporated into thin air: “Zihan, oh Zihan! You actually forgot me, yet you remembered Laifu?! Do you remember who broke his last steamed bun in half for you? Who walked in front whenever there were stray dogs? Who walked in front whenever there were graveyards? Who told Xie Wuchi to buy you a massive mansion? You forgot all of that?!”

Du Zihan held back for two seconds before slamming the table with a roar of laughter: “Hahaha! You thought I actually forgot?! Xiao Shu-bao!”

Shi Shu: “Holy shit, you played me?!”

Du Zihan: “Uh, not quite. I only have fragmented, blurry impressions. I honestly thought I was losing my mind, having those vivid dreams night after night. I didn’t believe it at first, but some memories were way too real. Hearing you speak just now unlocked more of it, though still in pieces.”

Shi Shu: “Remembering pieces is already amazing.”

Du Zihan pointed a cautious finger toward Xie Wuchi: “Like him, for instance—I don’t remember him at all. Did he use to beat me? Why do I get terrified the second I look at him?”

Shi Shu: “Well…”

Xie Wuchi: “I never beat you. I am not an aggressive person.”

Shi Shu: “Mm…”

Du Zihan: “Whatever, I can’t remember anyway.” Looking back at Shi Shu, Du Zihan smiled warmly: “Xiao Shu-bao, so you really exist in this world.”

Shi Shu: “Of course. We’re best friends.”

Du Zihan: “That’s wonderful. That dream world… I didn’t like it very much. I just remembered you and… felt so melancholy all the time. I still prefer studying. Running into you is great.”

Shi Shu: “Come visit me at my university, alright?”

Du Zihan: “Definitely, I’ll drop by this week.”

Shi Shu and Du Zihan chatted for quite a while, until Du Zihan’s phone buzzed with an urgent text: “Shoot, gotta pick up packages for my advisor, he’s rushing me. I have to run!”

Shi Shu: “Zihan, you’re an errand boy everywhere you go.”

Before dashing off, Du Zihan called back: “Call me tonight, I have a million details to ask you! Bye, Xiao Shu-bao!”

Watching him vanish into the distance, Shi Shu turned back.

Shi Shu stretched lazily, walking back to the campus gates alongside Xie Wuchi. Climbing into the car, Xie Wuchi backed out from the congested entrance, turning down an open thoroughfare.

Shi Shu asked, “Where are we heading now?”

“A restaurant.”

Shi Shu: “Why? Weren’t you full just now?”

Xie Wuchi: “The cafeteria food was dreadful. The dishes were far too sour.”

Catching the underlying hint, Shi Shu rested his hand over Xie Wuchi’s trouser-clad thigh.

Xie Wuchi murmured coolly, “Don’t touch me.”

Shi Shu: “Skip the restaurant, why not head to the new apartment near the school? Isn’t it already furnished? I’ll make you something to eat.”

Xie Wuchi: “Depends on my mood.”

The car glided into the underground garage. Following the path up, the door unlocked and clicked open. Stepping close, Shi Shu planted a sweet peck on his cheek, wrapping his arms around Xie Wuchi’s neck.

In response, Xie Wuchi scooped him up by the hips, carrying him across the threshold straight onto the living room sofa. Shi Shu reached out, his fingers slowly and steadily tracing the dark ink of Xie Wuchi’s tattoo, over and over again.