Su Jia listening to the streamer’s songs was something Yan Han knew about—after all, he was the one who recommended them.
But did it have to be so blatant? That ID was obviously his, okay? And to top it off, he had the nerve to criticize his boss in front of so many people, calling him inhumane and unpredictable. Luckily, no one knew who his boss was; otherwise, where would Yan Han’s dignity go?
Granted, even if Su Jia didn’t say it out loud, everyone already knew Yan Han was inhumane. But everyone kept it to themselves—only he was foolish enough to say it outright, and in such a mocking manner, no less.
How utterly shameless!
Was he so certain that his inhumane boss wouldn’t be watching the live-stream?
Not only Yan Han but even Pei Lang was drawn to this ID. Initially unsure, upon taking a closer look at the mocking comments, he thought, If this isn’t about Yan Han, then who else could it be? It was just one step away from posting his identification number.
Pei Lang hadn’t expected Su Jia to also be in the livestream room. Seeing how the well-meaning viewers flooded in to comfort him, even going so far as to join in on the boss-mocking spree, Pei Lang felt an impending sense of doom.
Not knowing how to warn him, he could only awkwardly watch the rapidly scrolling chat before successfully steering the conversation in another direction.
“Alright, how about I sing a song for everyone?” Xiao Su, you should be grateful that Mr. Yan isn’t the kind of person with enough free time to watch live-streams. Otherwise, you’d be in deep trouble.
Everyone else in the chat was calling him “Uncle”, but Su Jia stood out with his glaringly obvious ID, calling him “Dad”. Pei Lang, as the so-called father, began to seriously worry about Su Jia’s future.
Deciding not to look at the chat anymore, Pei Lang picked up his guitar, tested the sound, and began strumming. After confirming everything was fine, he started singing.
Although the viewers told him to take it easy and just chat with them, when it came time for the actual singing, the live-stream room was filled with excited fans.
He hadn’t even started singing, yet the chat was already filled with exaggerated compliments.
Yan Han took note of Su Jia’s “offense” and set it aside for now. Calming himself, he focused on listening to the streamer’s performance. His voice was familiar—calm, soothing, neither noisy nor pretentious, and extremely pleasant to the ear.
Yan Han never imagined he’d one day become captivated by someone’s voice. Perhaps because there was no face to distract him, all his attention was on the sound. This allowed him to savor its subtleties even more deeply.
“This song belongs to someone else. As a cover, I hope everyone will enjoy it. ‘Accompanying You Through the Long Years’ is dedicated to you all,” Pei Lang announced the song title during the brief pause before the intro.
This was the first time the song had ever been sung in this world, but it truly wasn’t his original creation, or so Pei Lang said. The unfamiliar title left the livestream audience assuming it must be an obscure and unpopular song. However, some had already turned to Baidu to search for it, only to come up empty-handed.
There wasn’t much time to dig deeper, as Pei Lang’s voice had already spread across the platform, reaching countless ears.
“Passing through the bustling crowds,
Disliking it but still forced to admire,
I’m the silent presence,
Not your world, just your shoulder.
Resisting growth until I must,
Becoming the person I want to be.
Before surrendering,
Let me accompany you a little longer…”
Pei Lang’s voice was like a whispered confession, sincere and beautiful. Combined with the lyrics, it struck directly at the heart.
The number of viewers in the livestream room skyrocketed. Even people from other platforms who came across the stream inadvertently brought a massive surge in traffic.
The live-stream received unanimous praise, filled with subtle declarations of admiration and beautifully worded comments. Meanwhile, on other platforms that streamed the session, the reactions were far less restrained. Overwhelmed by the impact, viewers ran out of words. The public chat was flooded with expressions like “holy sh*t“ and “ahhh“, a display of China’s quintessential internet slang.
Of course, there were also some oddballs.
Take Su Jia, for example. He called Pei Lang “Dad” without hesitation as if it were the most natural thing. Most people didn’t know Pei Lang personally and respectfully called him “Uncle”, which he reluctantly accepted. But Su Jia calling him “Dad Lang”? That was undeniably strange.
Pei Lang glanced at the chat briefly and instinctively ignored Su Jia’s comments before continuing his song.
“Accompanying you to live out the reflections along the way,
Turning solitude into courage.
Losing again and again, yet coming back; I never left.
Companionship is the longest confession of love…”
After finishing the song, even those who had previously told him to rest stopped saying so. The audience, unsatisfied and craving more, begged for another performance.
With no other option, Pei Lang chatted with them for a while before singing another song. The response was just as enthusiastic. That night, he sang three songs and chatted with fans. Before he realized it, the time had flown by.
When he ended the live-stream and said goodbye to his fans, he discovered he had made it onto the trending list—twice, with two explosive hashtags:
#Xiao Ye Lang Livestream (Trending!)
#Pei Lang Used Unfair Means to Land a Role (Trending!)
One trending topic was filled with praise, while the other was full of insults. Pei Lang was left dumbfounded as he scrolled through the comments.
Clicking into the first hashtag, he realized how popular his live-stream had been. Someone had extracted and recorded his songs from the session, turning them into standalone audio files. The shares exceeded three million, and the comments were a flood of compliments. Pei Lang skimmed through them—they were mostly overblown fan theories.
[——Uncle is amazing! Even at fifty-plus years old, he’s still working so hard. He must have loved singing in the past but gave up on his dream because of certain circumstances. Uncle has endured so much. It’s so heartbreaking. Reclaiming a youthful dream is so difficult. Time has worn him down, but Uncle still shines brightly! o(╥﹏╥)o]
Pei Lang: Thank you so much. Should I hand you a pen so you can write this for me instead?
[——This song is so beautiful! His voice is absolutely stunning! Ahhh, Uncle, keep going! The future is bright!]
Pei Lang: I’m over fifty. What future are you talking about?!
What concerned Pei Lang more, however, was the second trending topic. It was clearly a deliberate smear campaign. Jealousy over his role as Wen Yan had prompted someone to dig up old controversies to discredit him. The comments were a unified front of water army posts, spouting long diatribes about alleged past scandals, leaving no stone unturned in their effort to tarnish his name.
They likely didn’t dare directly accuse Director Jin of favoritism or manipulation, so they focused their attacks on Pei Lang, insinuating that his earlier roles had been obtained through improper means. Every hint and jab implied he was unworthy of the role of Wen Yan.
Public opinion swayed the masses, with many vowing they would never watch a drama starring Pei Lang. Even if it was directed by Director Jin, they wouldn’t make an exception. Some fans of the male and female leads tearfully commented that although they adored their idols, they had to reluctantly give up on the show because of Pei Lang’s involvement.
Reading through the comments, Pei Lang felt utterly drained. Being scolded was one thing, but the fear of dragging Director Jin down with him was what weighed on him the most. After all, Director Jin had placed great trust in him. If the drama’s progress was hindered because of past controversies and personal issues, it would be truly heartbreaking.
Barely two seconds into his sadness, Director Jin’s call came through.
Pei Lang took a deep breath and answered. “Director Jin!”
“Kid, I saw the trending topics.” Sure enough, the call was about the hot search. Pei Lang’s heart tightened, thinking Director Jin was about to terminate his contract.
“Don’t worry,” Director Jin continued. “No one but you can play the role of Wen Yan. The entertainment industry is full of half-truths and rumors—I don’t bother with them. Just focus on keeping a steady mindset and doing your best in the performance.”
To Pei Lang’s surprise, it was a call of reassurance.
Instead of feeling relieved, Pei Lang grew even more anxious. Someone with his checkered past, what had he done to deserve Director Jin’s personal encouragement? He felt both flattered and overwhelmed. “Thank you, Director Jin. I’ll make sure to act well and won’t let you down.”
“Aiya, kid, don’t be so formal!” Director Jin, known for his high artistic standards, was actually not as strict as he seemed. Though Pei Lang sounded composed, Director Jin detected the nervousness in his tone and playfully teased him. “You were recommended by Junior Yan. How could I, as his senior, not lend a hand? Besides, you’ve got so much potential. I’m confident you’ll nail at least 90% of this role.”
“Thank you, Director. You flatter me. But I will give it my all.” As long as Director Jin doesn’t replace him, everything will be fine. This kind of public opinion can’t be suppressed—it can only be dealt with by results. The more urgent it becomes, the more it plays into their hands. “Did you just say Mr. Yan is your junior?”
“Yep, didn’t expect that, did you? I didn’t graduate from a director’s program. After studying finance, I switched careers.” Yan Han was 32 and Director Jin was not yet 40, so they were only a few years apart.
They went to the same school and had some business dealings in entertainment investment. Director Jin and Yan Han had a good relationship. Since Pei Lang was such a promising talent, of course, he was willing to help.
Of course, the main reason was that Pei Lang had the ability.
“Well then, kid, get ready. I’m looking forward to your performance when you join the crew,” Director Jin said, probably in a hurry because of a night shoot, with someone calling him from the other side. He quickly ended the call.
“Goodbye, Director.”
Not long after the call ended, the official crew account posted a statement confirming that the role of Wen Yan was meant for Pei Lang. While it sparked anger from many online users, they were helpless to do anything about it.
A few minutes later, the controversial trending topic was taken down.
It was sudden, but Pei Lang, who was used to this kind of thing, guessed that someone must have intervened. Who could it be? No need to think too hard—there was only one person in this world who would help him, and that someone could only be Yan Han.
It was only 9 PM and Yan Han wasn’t asleep yet. Pei Lang decided to go up to the study and find him.
He found Yan Han sitting alone in front of the computer, working. Even though Pei Lang entered the room, Yan Han didn’t look up. However, the little chibi on his shoulder noticed Pei Lang immediately. There was also a small fox with its head poking out from behind a large page, looking at him with confusion.
“Mr. Yan, you’ve been working all day. How about taking a break?” Pei Lang approached carefully and sat beside Yan Han, glancing at the focused man.
What a handsome face, an impeccable figure, and charm. If he smiled more often, he could surely make anyone dizzy just by looking at him.
Hmm!? Was Mr. Yan’s ear… red?
The tips of Yan Han’s ears were slightly flushed, though not very noticeable. But the little chibi in his inner world, shy and embarrassed, had already covered its ears and was glaring at Pei Lang in frustration.
Is it too hot today? After I came in, Yan Han seemed to feel even more cramped and hot. So, is he upset with me?
Pei Lang paused to imagine, looking at his own outfit before glancing at Yan Han’s. Because of his leg issues, Yan Han always wore long clothes and professional attire, unlike Pei Lang, who could wear a casual T-shirt and shorts at home. It was no wonder he was hot.
After finishing his last bit of work, Yan Han shut down his computer. “What’s the matter?”
Pei Lang’s gaze lingered on his ears as he answered. “Mr. Yan, about the trending topic—was that you helping me again?”
“You sure have a lot of troubles.” Yan Han said with a cold face, a touch of pride in his tone.
That wasn’t wrong. Pei Lang knew that being in this line of work inevitably came with its share of trouble, but life had to go on.
“Hehe, thank you, Mr. Yan. I’m not sure how to repay you. My abilities are limited, but I’ll try my best and give you a massage.”
“Good to know.”
“Mr. Yan, it’s getting late. How about a bath? I can massage you afterward. You’ve worked all day and must be tired. Not just your legs, but I can help with your shoulders too.”
Yan Han rarely went to bed this early. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded in agreement. He wheeled himself into the room, took a shower, changed into pajamas, and then allowed Pei Lang to enter the room.
