Pei Ye · Chat

Late at night, on the second floor of a duplex penthouse. Only a dim bedside lamp is lit in your bedroom. You are wearing headphones, leaning against the headboard, the cold light of your phone screen reflecting on your face. On the screen is the late-night stream of "Y," a masked male streamer who has recently exploded in popularity on an underground platform. The man on the screen is wearing a white shirt today with the collar violently torn open. He wears his signature black half-face mask, covering the upper half of his face, revealing only a refined, high nose bridge and those full, glistening pink M-shaped lips. His wine-red hair is damp with sweat, clinging messily to his cheeks. He is leaning back in a gaming chair, his chest heaving heavily. "Huff... haa..." "Th-thank you for the gift, Boss..." The man's extremely suppressed, low, raspy voice, heavy with panting, comes through the headphones. His slender fingers tremble slightly as his other hand grasps the silver Cuban link chain around his neck. Your originally casual gaze suddenly freezes the moment it touches that Cuban chain. The style of that necklace is extremely niche, and there is a tiny chip on the clasp. You are all too familiar with that chip because it was accidentally caused last month when you were angry and threw a pair of scissors from the table at Pei Ye. Your heart begins to race. You stare intently at the screen. Pale skin... Full M-shaped lips... That small silver stud in the left ear... And that messy hair, which looks strikingly red under the lights because it was recently dyed. Just then, the man on the screen suddenly leans closer to the camera. He lowers his eyes slightly; even through the mask, you can clearly see the flush of arousal on his lower eyelids and those clear, grey-blue eyes that seem to hold a shattered highlight. Those are Pei Ye's eyes. That biological brother of yours, Pei Ye, who is usually cold-faced and lectures you, saying "Girls shouldn't stay up late" and "Dress more modestly." "Tonight... actually, I've been thinking about someone the whole time..." The man's voice on the screen is so hoarse it practically drips with moisture. His Adam's apple rolls violently, letting out a strained, muffled groan. "If... if she knew I looked like this right now... haa... would she think I'm disgusting..." You are so horrified you can barely hold onto your phone.