1.
Xin Le had just opened Weibo when the screen intermittently went blank a few times before crashing entirely.
Thinking his phone was acting up, he waited a few seconds before reopening it to find a red notification at his followers tab, displaying three ellipses. Upon checking his followers list, a small note at the top informed him: “Followers increased by 30,000 in the past 7 days.”
Xin Le was dumbfounded. As a mere 180-line artist diligently managing his Weibo for a year, he had only amassed over 9,000 followers, and with no particularly viral posts recently, how did his followers suddenly surge?
Looking closer, he saw a stream of blank or gray avatars, and usernames were a jumble of gibberish and Chinese characters.
Xin Le’s vision darkened as he bellowed, “Who the hell bought me zombie followers!”
Zombie followers, as the name suggests, aren’t real people. Having too many could lower his Weibo influence, restrict visibility, and more critically, with 40,000 followers, each post garnered less than 500 likes and shares combined—a clear sign of fake followers.
Those casually visiting his page might shake their heads, lamenting, ‘No followers? Just don’t buy them, it’s so vain!’
Ding-dong, another notification sound made Xin Le reflexively wince. However, this time it wasn’t about new followers, but a private message.
Sent this morning, Weibo had just notified him.
XP: Are you angry? I really didn’t expect things to turn out this way.
Xin Le knew this fan, a long-time follower since he started his Weibo, always liking and sharing his posts but never commenting, exceptionally aloof.
Scrolling through previous messages, XP explained: Yesterday, seeing you had just over 9,000 followers, I thought of buying 1,000 to round it up to 10,000, but there was a misunderstanding with the follower boosting account, and it turned out like this.
Included was a screenshot.
hk seller ui h-follower we add crnV: How many?
XP: 1,000.
hk seller ui h-follower we add crnV: OK, send the account details. We accept direct wealth transfers and satellite payments.
XP: How much?
hk seller ui h-follower we add crnV: ?1,000 obviously.
XP: Okay, please check.
The sender apologized thrice, clearly feeling guilty. He meant 1,000 followers, but the booster thought he meant 1,000 yuan. Thus, Xin Le’s account ended up with 1,000 yuan and 30,000 zombie followers.
Xin Le sighed deeply, reassuring the sender, “It’s okay, you meant well, but no more next time. We don’t do this fake popularity thing, let me clean this up.”
No reply yet; perhaps the sender wasn’t online.
Upon trying to correct his follower list, Xin Le was stunned to realize he couldn’t remove them all without a verified account.
After several futile attempts to appeal, Xin Le faced the grim reality: most of these 30,000 zombie followers had to be manually removed.
2.
“AAAAHHHH…” Xin Le screamed, hitting his head with a pillow, “Don’t treat me like this!”
“Xin Le, what’s wrong?” Accompanied by knocking, a gentle male voice inquired.
Regaining his composure in a second, Xin Le responded through the door, “Nothing, just need to cool off,” then whimpered softly inaudible to the person outside.
The man outside was Xin Le’s landlord, Xu Pei.
After graduating from college, Xin Le had been renting Xu Pei’s place for nearly two years. Not only was Xu Pei handsome, with a gentle personality and strong work ethic, but he was also the object of Xin Le’s secret affection.
Could there be anything better than living under the same roof as your crush? Xin Le couldn’t think of anything.
When they first started sharing the apartment, they were politely distant until they became closer after sharing meals.
Even just being friends brought joy to Xin Le.
Xin Le’s main job was creating commercial illustrations, collaborating with several magazines. Xu Pei also liked painting, his room filled with art books, providing ample topics for conversation.
However, Xu Pei was unaware of Xin Le’s Weibo, where aside from posting his non-commercial original works, he frequently shared BL fan art.
3.
After a while, Xin Le decided to set aside his troubles and do something else to distract himself.
He enjoyed doing household chores in his spare time—sweeping, mopping, tidying the room, changing bed linens—each task relaxing and joyful for him.
Glancing at the bed sheets he had changed just yesterday, Xin Le decided to look elsewhere for distraction. Opening his room door, he saw Xu Pei cooking in the kitchen.
Right, it was the weekend, and Xu Pei wasn’t working. Last night while shopping at the supermarket, Xu Pei had mentioned making tomato beef brisket noodles this afternoon.
Watching Xu Pei cutting vegetables, Xin Le casually offered, “Let me help you with that.”
Xu Pei turned around, his gaze heavy, reminding Xin Le of the last time he had volunteered to help and the ensuing disasters.
After peeling potatoes, they’d shrunk to a third of their size; while peeling tomatoes, he’d slipped, splattering juice everywhere like a crime scene; attempting to stir-fry, he’d accidentally flung most of it out of the pan.
Remembering how long Xu Pei had spent cleaning the kitchen afterwards, Xin Le was about to retract his offer when he heard Xu Pei say, “Sure, come on over.”
4.
In the kitchen, with the ingredients nearly ready, Xu Pei lifted the lid to check on the simmering beef brisket, asking Xin Le to wash some cilantro.
Xin Le slowly began picking the cilantro when Xu Pei asked, “What happened just now?”
“Ah, just bumped into the table corner, really hurt.” Xin Le blinked, telling a white lie.
“Is it serious? Swollen?”
“It’s nothing big, hurt for a bit but it’s gone now. I’m bouncing around already.” Xin Le demonstrated by twisting left and right, indicating he was fine.
“That’s good. If it still hurts, let me know.”
While Xin Le was rinsing the cilantro under the tap, he faintly heard Xu Pei speaking, but the water noise drowned out his words. He quickly turned off the tap and asked, “What did you just say? I couldn’t hear.”
Xu Pei shook his head, “It’s nothing, let me do the chopping.”
Claiming to help, Xin Le didn’t do much but stood by chatting with Xu Pei, watching him cook earnestly, temporarily forgetting the issue of zombie followers.
After a while, the tomato beef brisket noodles were ready.
The rich sauce, tender beef, and chewy tendons had Xin Le devouring two bowls and even belching modestly.
Xu Pei’s cooking was always delicious, something Xin Le had always known.
5.
When they first moved in together, Xin Le ordered takeout daily. His irregular schedule had him eating mostly at noon and midnight. After being caught by Xu Pei several times with freshly delivered takeout, he looked at Xin Le holding the takeout bag, “You eat this every day?”
“Yeah, what about it?” Xin Le hadn’t thought much of it at the time, preferring the convenience of takeout to leaving his room.
Xu Pei frowned disapprovingly, “Takeout is high in oil and salt, and you can’t be sure of the kitchen’s hygiene. If you’d like, I can cook extra for you each day.”
Xin Le was stunned for a good three seconds.
Knowing from the daily aroma that his landlord was an excellent cook, to Xin Le, cooking seemed a complex task, yet here was a roommate of just a month offering to cook for him—what a saint!
After snapping out of it, Xin Le’s eyes lit up, and he stepped forward, barely containing his excitement, “Really? Really? Can I eat what you cook?”
Then, feeling he might have been too eager, he quickly rounded off, “But you’re tired from work every day, it’s no trouble. I’ll just be more selective with the takeout places and choose ones with actual storefronts.”
“It’s just an extra pair of chopsticks. Tell me your dietary restrictions later, and I’ll note them down.” Xu Pei seemed sincere, heading to the bathroom to freshen up after speaking.
From then on, Xin Le enjoyed hot, tasty meals daily, perfectly suited to his tastes.
6.
Unlike Xin Le, Xu Pei’s lifestyle was very regimented, waking at 7:30 AM to cook, taking one portion to work and leaving one for Xin Le to heat in the microwave. He’d be home by six each evening to cook dinner, then begin his leisure activities, never working late.
He enjoyed gardening, with over a dozen pots of various plants on the balcony. Having lived together so long, Xin Le had gone from only recognizing money plants to now being able to name each plant.
Phalaenopsis orchids, aloe vera, fishbone prayer plants, jasmine, lemon trees, weeping figs, and more, all meticulously cared for by Xu Pei over several years.
Oddly, throughout Xin Le’s 22 years of schooling, he’d had crushes on just two or three boys, but those were mere fleeting likes. After meeting Xu Pei post-graduation, it seemed every bit of Xu Pei was to his liking.
But Xin Le was timid, still at the stage of secret admiration. However, he had resolved that once his current batch of work was done, he’d confess his feelings to Xu Pei and pursue him.
If Xu Pei agreed, all would be well; if not, the worst outcome would be eviction and ceasing contact.
After dinner, Xin Le volunteered to wash the dishes. Once the kitchen was tidy, he saw Xu Pei seated on the sofa, browsing his phone with furrowed brows and tapping the screen as if troubled.
Having lived together for two years, Xin Le had come to understand Xu Pei’s gentle, even-tempered nature, having never seen him angry.
If it weren’t something very troubling, he wouldn’t wear such an expression.
“Is it something work-related that’s bothering you?” Xin Le asked proactively.
Hearing him, Xu Pei looked up at Xin Le, but before he could mask his emotions, his expressionless face momentarily reminded Xin Le of their first meeting.
7.
Two years ago in May, as Xin Le was about to graduate from college with a remote job lined up, he planned to rent a place.
He saw a co-renting post online and agreed to view the apartment.
The complex was decent and conveniently located, but Xin Le was taken aback as soon as he entered.
“You didn’t mention… there’s a girl living here?”
“It’s no big deal, buddy. My girlfriend only stays over two or three days a week,” the young man reassured him, patting Xin Le’s shoulder. “It’s graduation season, hard to find a place.”
Co-renting with a couple had its inconveniences, and Xin Le declined outright.
The young man’s expression soured as he opened the door wider, “Suit yourself.”
Pleased with the complex but deterred by the experience, Xin Le decided to rent alone to avoid such issues.
While waiting for the elevator, the door across rang, and a tall man stepped out, seemingly heading to dispose of trash.
After a moment’s thought, Xin Le greeted him, “Hey buddy, I was wondering, do you know if there are any one-bedroom units in this complex?”
The man, initially looking down, lifted his head at the inquiry.
For the first time, Xin Le saw his face clearly—handsome, definitively so, but expressionless, revealing no emotions.
He remained silent for a few seconds, eyes fixed on Xin Le, not uttering a word.
Thinking he’d been too forward, Xin Le was about to say something when the man spoke, “Looking to rent?”
“Ah, yes, I’d like to rent in this complex,” Xin Le scratched his head, smiling.
The man’s next question caught Xin Le off guard, “Consider co-renting?”
Somewhat stunned, Xin Le nodded, and the man set down his trash bag, opening the door, “Come in and take a look.”
This man was Xu Pei.
As Xin Le stepped in, his gaze was drawn to the balcony. It was adorned with a variety of potted plants, like a miniature Garden of Eden. Judging by the home’s decor and cleanliness, this man was meticulous.
They quickly agreed on a co-renting arrangement.
8.
“It’s nothing, I made a mistake, just thinking about how to fix it,” Xu Pei said, standing up. “Wanna go for a walk to digest our meal?”
“Let’s go.”
Walking after dinner had become a routine activity for them, since Xin Le, who rarely exercised, had once overeaten and suffered through half the night; thereafter, Xu Pei had suggested this habit.
Xin Le gladly accepted. One, because he really needed the exercise, and two, it was a chance to chat and grow closer.
This error must be significant; otherwise, it wouldn’t have troubled Xu Pei for so long. Xin Le was somewhat concerned, “Is it serious? Work-related or…?”
“Not work, just something that seemed clever but ended up causing trouble for someone else,” Xu Pei didn’t elaborate, changing the subject, “Let’s not talk about that. How’s your draft coming along?”
Speaking of Xin Le’s draft, that too was a current concern.
He had taken on a series of commercial illustrations through an app, complex but manageable. However, the client, wealthy and demanding, had exhausted the free revisions and now paid extra for each change.
Over the past month, Xin Le had been busy with these illustrations, sometimes feeling overwhelmed, and would discuss it with Xu Pei.
“Just sent it yesterday, no further requests so far. Really draining, but between money and dignity, I choose money, haha,” Xin Le chuckled.
Xu Pei, watching his smile, suddenly reached out and tousled his hair, “Then let’s hope this one goes smoothly.”
9.
Two days later, the client sent new revision requests.
Several details needed tweaking, and Xin Le hunkered down in his room, sketching intensely for five hours before taking a break to use the bathroom, only to find Xu Pei packing a suitcase.
Seeing Xin Le’s puzzled look, Xu Pei explained, “Just got the notice, I need to go on a business trip next Monday, probably won’t be back for a week.”
It was unexpected; given Xu Pei’s job, he typically worked nine-to-five with no travel. This was the first time Xin Le heard him mention a trip.
“I was surprised too, but the project team says they need me there to oversee this part, no other way.”
“Alright,” Xin Le nodded, “then take care, have a safe trip.”
Xu Pei chuckled, “I’m not gone yet, but please take care of the plants on the balcony, hydrangeas need daily watering, tap water is fine.”
“Wait,” Xin Le interrupted, pulling out his phone, “say that again, I need to jot it down.”
Xu Pei laughed again, “It’s not that complicated. Mist the fishbone prayer plants daily to keep them moist, phalaenopsis don’t like water, leave them be, the rest need watering every three or four days. I’ll remind you on WeChat.”
Though Xu Pei’s trip was only a week, it felt exceptionally long to Xin Le, perhaps because they no longer shared meals or evening walks, or maybe because he was alone in the apartment.
That week, in addition to working, Xin Le diligently watered the plants.
But the day before Xu Pei’s return, Xin Le discovered, to his horror, that he had apparently killed the phalaenopsis Xu Pei had asked him to care for especially.
10.
The day Xu Pei returned, Xin Le greeted him enthusiastically, “You’re back.” His radiant smile seemed to brighten the entire room.
“I have good news and bad news, which do you want to hear first?” Xin Le held up two fingers, signaling for Xu Pei to choose.
Sensing something amiss from Xin Le’s expression, Xu Pei opted for the good news first.
“The good news is, my draft got approved, after nearly two months, the final version passed.”
“That’s really great, congratulations, we should celebrate tomorrow?” Xu Pei paused, “And the bad news?”
Xin Le visibly began to look guilty, leading Xu Pei to the balcony and pointing to a withered pot of phalaenopsis, nervously pursing his lips.
“Sorry, I just realized yesterday that I mixed up its name with the dendrobium. I’ve been watering it daily this week, and it turned out like this.”
Xu Pei crouched down, examining the wilted plant, its yellow leaves silent testimony to the mistake. Though he said nothing, Xin Le felt him sigh.
Xin Le crouched beside Xu Pei, watching his expression and cautiously asked, “Are you angry?”
Xu Pei turned to him, speaking softly, “No.”
“I’m really sorry, I’ll buy you a new one, let’s go to the flower market tomorrow. I’m not very good at this, I know it’s not the same as the original, it’s all my fault.”
“It’s okay,” Xu Pei placed a hand on Xin Le’s head, ruffling his hair, “Really, it’s fine. Gardening does take a lot of effort, I can always grow something else.”
“What? Are you thinking of keeping pets now?” Xin Le was puzzled but he liked small animals, so if Xu Pei got a cat or dog, he’d be happy to help care for it.
Xu Pei just smiled, saying nothing more.
11.
“I brought you a gift.”
Xu Pei took a finely crafted wooden box from his suitcase and handed it to Xin Le.
“For me?” Xin Le exclaimed in surprise. He opened it to find a black bead bracelet inside, the beads gleaming mysteriously.
“Yes, bought it from Yunsheng Temple, it’s for protection, wear it.”
“Thank you, I really like it.” Xin Le slipped the bracelet onto his left wrist, as he often needed his right hand free for drawing.
He noticed Xu Pei’s suitcase contained only one box and asked, “Didn’t you buy one for yourself?”
Xu Pei shook his head, “No, I’m not used to wearing these things.”
“It looks nice.” Xin Le extended his hand in front of Xu Pei, turning it this way and that to show off the bracelet.
Xin Le’s naturally pale skin made the black beads stand out more, the gentle curves of his wrist bones matching perfectly with the bracelet.
Suddenly, Xu Pei reached out, his palm up, supporting Xin Le’s wrist as if holding something precious. He looked at Xin Le’s hand, then into his eyes, and said earnestly, “It does look good.”
12.
Xin Le still felt guilty about killing Xu Pei’s plant.
After posting a grid of his recent doodles on Weibo, he added a purely text post.
You’ll really believe me if I say this: How do you keep a phalaenopsis alive?
Since Xin Le usually only posted images, the shift to a lifestyle-related post attracted more comments, but they soon went off-topic.
“How do I keep myself alive?”
“How do I get noticed by my crush?”
“How do I make an authentic soup?”
“How do I get rid of dampness?”
Xin Le was amused yet exasperated by the lack of serious replies.
Half an hour later, Xin Le received a private message from XP, the aloof longtime fan. This was the second time XP had reached out since the follower-buying incident.
XP sent a lengthy message, including details on soil selection, watering, sunlight requirements, and seasonal care—very thorough.
Xin Le read it carefully, realizing gardening was no simple task.
He sincerely thanked XP, but the phalaenopsis was beyond saving.
After exiting the message, Xin Le checked his followers list again.
Ever since the follower-buying incident, he had begun manually cleaning his followers, removing a few dozen each day, but against the vast number of zombie followers, it seemed insignificant.
A few days later, Xin Le opened Weibo to find his followers had surged again, but this time with real ones.
A grid of doodles he’d posted a week earlier had gone viral, particularly two sketches of human figures, praised for their dynamic portrayal.
The most liked comment was: P4 represents my CP.
13.
Previously, Xin Le hadn’t tagged his fan art, so it didn’t attract much traffic, but those who came to his page from that post often turned into new followers.
Now, his Weibo had climbed to over 50,000 followers, mixing real and zombie followers, making them even harder to clean up. Having no choice, Xin Le applied for a yellow V, as only verified accounts could systematically correct follower counts.
After removing over 10,000 zombie followers, though not entirely like before, it greatly improved Xin Le’s mood.
He posted a thank-you tweet for reaching 10,000 followers, planning to draw simple commissions for a few commenters.
The top comment was: Start a live stream, start streaming drawing!!
Followed by many agreeing responses.
Thinking it over, Xin Le decided it was feasible. Although he hadn’t streamed before, trying it seemed harmless.
Thus, he set a date after drawing the lottery on the streaming platform to start a live drawing session next Friday night.
14.
On Friday evening, after shopping and dining with Xu Pei, Xin Le returned to his room to set up his equipment, feeling somewhat nervous about his first live stream.
Xin Le entered the streaming room about ten minutes early, surprised to find dozens already waiting, which made him even more nervous. After greeting everyone in the chat, he started playing music.
The stream was set up in a picture-in-picture format, with the main screen showing Xin Le’s computer and a smaller screen focused on his digital drawing tablet.
As the clock struck eight, Xin Le picked up his stylus and began drawing, starting with an anime character requested by a winning fan.
When Xin Le’s hands appeared on the smaller screen, the chat exploded with messages.
Ten Eleven Twelve: Year of the hand.
Fried Fiery Moon: Seeing these hands, I instantly yelled ‘wife’!
Mdsafhoi: As expected, madam’s hands are not like ours.
You Know I’m Cold: Mommy, I’m here!
Who’s Under the Hall: I’m licking licking licking!
The chat was wild with comments, and although Xin Le focused on his drawing, he couldn’t help but laugh when he saw one particular message.
15.
In the next room, Xu Pei watched the tablet, his attention not on the content being drawn or how nice the hands looked, but fixated on the black bracelet on the left wrist in the small frame of the screen.
