Baby

The warmth in his arms evaporated. Jiang Wenzhe furrowed his brow, a hint of displeasure in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I think you're right. I'm still in my twenties, young. I should go out and explore, find a career that suits me," Lin Sangyu said, conviction in her voice.

"Do you want to leave me?" Realizing how that sounded, Jiang Wenzhe quickly added, "So, what are you planning to do?"

At the thought of what she was about to say, Lin Sangyu blushed. She pursed her lips and said shyly, "Jiang Wenzhe, do you think I'm pretty?"

Jiang Wenzhe neither confirmed nor denied. He simply replied, "What does that have to do with your plans?"

Lin Sangyu blinked at him. "I want to get into the internet, become an influencer. Do you think I'd be good at it?"

Jiang Wenzhe took a deep breath, his speech unconsciously quickening. "Where did you hear about that? Did some company approach you? That industry is full of pitfalls; a lot of it is a scam. Don't believe it."

Lin Sangyu looped her arm through his, leaning her weight on him and looking up at him with eager eyes. "No, no, no one asked me. I just want to do it on my own, and I plan to go independent, without signing to any company. What do you think?"

Jiang Wenzhe gritted his teeth. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Born into an old-school elite family, Jiang Wenzhe had been groomed since childhood as a young heir, steeped in the conservatism and pride handed down through generations. His ideas were deeply rooted in tradition. In his view, the term "influencer" carried a frivolous connotation, lacking propriety, and it instantly repelled him.

Though professions were said to be equal, Jiang Wenzhe instinctively didn't want Lin Sangyu to take on such a public-facing job.

Being in the spotlight meant sharing one's privacy with strangers, giving up part of one's personal life. Unlike ordinary people, influencers and celebrities had to live more cautiously, constantly mindful that their every word and action could be magnified or twisted, and one misstep could lead to the internet's venom consuming them whole.

Lin Sangyu shook his arm again. "But this line of work can make a lot of money."

Jiang Wenzhe wasn't swayed. "Come and be my assistant. You can name your price."

Lin Sangyu, having learned her lesson, put Jiang Wenzhe on the moral high ground. "Are you trying to stop me from doing what I love?"

"That's not true," Jiang Wenzhe said, taking a small step back. "What kind of content do you want to do?"

"Mukbang," Lin Sangyu laid out her thoughts completely. "I want to livestream eating fried insects. What do you think?"

"In human form?"

"That part isn't decided yet."

Jiang Wenzhe stated his terms plainly. "The most I can accept is you doing it in your sugar glider form."

If she did it as a sugar glider, then if she unfortunately faced online harassment or hit a dead end midway, she could withdraw in time, and he could cover for her.

Without a second thought, Lin Sangyu agreed immediately. "That works too, then. It's settled."

"…"

Jiang Wenzhe felt as if he'd been tricked into a boundary test.

"Then let's set a few ground rules," Jiang Wenzhe said, his brow slightly furrowed, the coldness returning to his demeanor, his tone turning serious.

Lin Sangyu immediately sat up straight, hands folded on her knees, looking like an obedient student ready to listen.

"First, no matter when, as long as you appear in public media, you must be in your sugar glider form. Can you do that?"

Lin Sangyu replied without hesitation, "I can."

"Second, livestreams can only happen at home. Can you do that?"

— She must not leave his control.

Lin Sangyu asked, "At home? Where in the house can I stream? In your bedroom?"

"I'll set aside a room for you. Don't worry about that. I'll also buy the equipment you need. As for the team, it'll just be the two of us. I don't want anyone else involved," Jiang Wenzhe said in an unquestionable tone.

If they expanded the team, the secret of Lin Sangyu's animal transformation would constantly be in danger, like a time bomb hanging in some unknown corner, and one careless move could detonate it, leaving her shattered to pieces.

"Okay, okay, okay," Lin Sangyu quickly agreed, the kind who knew how to take advantage of a good deal.

Ignoring her fawning expression, Jiang Wenzhe said, "I'll send you to school. Do you want to go?"

"School? To learn what?" Lin Sangyu asked, puzzled.

"Being an influencer requires learning. Did you think it was that easy?" Jiang Wenzhe said. "I'll hire a teacher to teach you the basics, like how to manage a livestream or edit videos. Also, you need to learn some real knowledge to fix that head of yours that lacks both common sense and cultural literacy."

"Great, I've never really been to school. Does that mean I'll have lots of classmates?"

Jiang Wenzhe said coldly, "Private tutor. You'll be the only student."

Push Lin Sangyu out so she could meet other young, energetic people her age?

Not a chance.

Only if she stayed obediently by his side was she safest.

"…Fine," Lin Sangyu muttered, deflated.

Jiang Wenzhe ignored her little disappointment and continued, "Third, you must contact me immediately about anything, and you're not allowed to keep any secrets from me. Understood?"

"What if I mess up or do something stupid? Will you scold me?"

"No." Jiang Wenzhe replied decisively.

Lin Sangyu persisted. "I don't believe you. You have to swear."

"Fine, I swear." Jiang Wenzhe raised three fingers in an oath gesture. "I swear I won't scold you for things related to your work."

Lin Sangyu's eyes curved into crescent moons. "I know now."

"Good," Jiang Wenzhe suddenly leaned in, his head nearly touching hers, his voice lowering with a hint of threat. "If you break the rules, you won't be eating any bugs for the rest of your life."

It was a threat with no real bite, yet it hit Lin Sangyu right at her vital point.

The moment she heard it, her body shot up reflexively.

"Thud—"

A muffled sound, and their foreheads collided.

"Ow, ow, ow, it hurts! Jiang Wenzhe, your forehead is so hard!" Lin Sangyu winced, immediately bending over to rub her head and complain.

Jiang Wenzhe corrected her fairly. "I should be the one saying that. You're the one who wasn't looking and bumped into my head, yet you're still accusing me falsely."

A breeze blew from the end of the street, leaves rustling and branches trembling.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Wenzhe, as if possessed, reached out his hand, pressing his thumb against Lin Sangyu's forehead in small circles, his remaining fingers resting gently on the top of her head. He softened his voice and said, "It doesn't hurt anymore."

The slightly rough pad of his finger was especially noticeable against her forehead, the ache gradually fading. Lin Sangyu lifted her head, her clear, bright eyes fixed on Jiang Wenzhe without a blink, as if stunned.

Inside the dim car, the light and shadow were frozen outside, but those eyes seemed to hold a galaxy dancing within, or mountain streams flowing through, so sparkling clear they were almost unnerving.

Jiang Wenzhe, after a brief moment of eye contact, was the first to look away, his voice betraying no emotion. "What's wrong?"

"Jiang Wenzhe, you're so good to me."

Even though he was rubbing her forehead, at that moment, Lin Sangyu felt as if Jiang Wenzhe were massaging her heart, sending a tingling, numbing sensation through her.

"Thump-thump—"

Her racing heartbeat merged with the air's electric thrill.

Jiang Wenzhe kindly reminded her. "You've said that many times already."

"But it's true! I never get tired of saying it. I was the one who bumped into you, yet you're still rubbing my forehead."

"Because you're silly."

When he had rubbed enough, Jiang Wenzhe withdrew his hand, but the sensation of his fingertips touching her seemed etched into his nerves.

Just as he was momentarily lost in thought, a sweet, crisp voice suddenly came from the cramped back seat of the car.

"Baby."

Jiang Wenzhe lifted his lashes to look at the owner of the voice.

Then, out of the blue, a hand moved so fast it left a blur before his eyes. The next moment, he felt a small, flat, candy-like pellet suddenly appear between his lips.

He touched it with the tip of his tongue, swallowed, and only then asked, "What was that?"

It didn't quite taste like candy.

The girl eagerly pressed, "Digestive tablets! Are they tasty, baby?"

"Not tasty. And why do you call me baby?"

Jiang Wenzhe's Adam's apple bobbed. From Lin Sangyu's angle, it looked like a range of rolling mountains.

And she was a little bird living off that mountain, so Lin Sangyu said, "Because you're my heart, my soul."

Realizing what he'd heard, Jiang Wenzhe suddenly laughed, though the laugh was cut short, half stuck in his throat, releasing a husky, breathy sound.

Lin Sangyu leaned forward, hands braced in front of her, watching his faint, gentle smile.

After laughing, Jiang Wenzhe resumed his composed bearing, speaking like an elder teaching a younger one. "I'm eight years older than you. I'm thirty-two. It's not appropriate for you to call me that."

But Lin Sangyu's little mind worked quickly. "Then you can call me baby instead."

"That's not a good idea either. Between a man and a woman, that's usually reserved for lovers. We're not lovers yet."

Realizing his slip, Jiang Wenzhe's breathing fell into chaos almost instantly.

He should have said: "We're not lovers."

But before he could correct himself, Lin Sangyu cut in, "Do you have a lover, Jiang Wenzhe?"

"No."

"Have you ever had one?"

"No." The answer was the same.

Lin Sangyu's shoulders dropped slightly, as if she were relieved.

"Well then, since you've never called anyone else baby, I won't force it either."

Jiang Wenzhe turned his head to the side, then after a long moment, mechanically turned back. His voice was hoarse, as if he were straining to hold something back, and he said:

"Baby."