It kept raining.

After a sudden downpour on Monday, the rain hadn’t stopped. Now it was Friday, and the drizzle was still falling, light and steady.

Business at Su Yiran’s shop had been affected by the weather. Lunch and dinner time were still decent, but afternoons were quieter, with only a handful of customers here and there.

But there were upsides to slower days. Su Yiran listened to the sound of rain outside, dropped some goji berries into his cup, poured in hot water, and placed the lid on to let it steep.

A peaceful afternoon.

He slowly walked around with a watering can, watering all the plants and flowers in the shop. As he passed the booth area, he smiled and greeted the two or three regulars sitting there.

Since opening, Yiting Desserts had gradually entered a stable phase. There were lots of repeat customers, the word of mouth was great, and the customer base was steady. Some people even came to the shop at the same time every day to enjoy the desserts.

After watering the plants, his goji berry tea was ready. He took a sip—the mild, bittersweet taste was delicious and nourishing.

With the warm cup in hand, Su Yiran went to the back and started preparing for the afternoon’s livestream.

Today, he planned to make red bean put chai ko, mango sago dessert, and fried milk.

Over the past few days, he’d been livestreaming during the slow afternoon hours—each session lasting about one to two hours.

Technically, the best time to stream was in the evening. That’s when the office workers got off work, and students were home—the peak traffic window for Apple Live. His very first livestream had been in the evening for this reason, to maximize exposure and attract the most viewers.

But since he was a family man now, and both he and Ting-ge worked during the day, evenings were their only time together. Though he was career-minded, he didn’t want to sacrifice family time for work, so he decided to stream during the day.

Su Yiran finished setting up and first logged into the Yiting Desserts Weibo account to post an update:

[Today’s stream: Delicious red bean put chai ko, mango sago, and fried milk, starting soon! 🩷🐰 Come watch on Apple Live, sweet tooth friends don’t miss out! → [livestream link]]

By now, Yiting Desserts’ Weibo had grown to over 500,000 followers, making it a major Weibo account.

Shortly after posting, the tweet received hundreds of likes, dozens of reposts and comments. Fans expressed excitement about the livestream and love for today’s menu—alongside a barrage of flirtatious confessions…

Su Yiran didn’t pay much attention to those. He closed Weibo, adjusted his equipment, and logged into the Apple Live backend to begin the stream.

Thanks to the momentum from his first livestream, his follower count had steadily climbed past a million. While growth wasn’t as explosive as that first night, it was now stable and consistent.

This plateau was typical for lifestyle streams. Though the lifestyle category was the third-largest on Apple Live, it couldn’t compete with the gaming and singing/chatting categories in terms of viewers.

Food streams were the most popular sub-category in the lifestyle section. Several of the top lifestyle streamers focused on food. The most popular one, “Jupiter Shiye,” had 4.7 million followers and had been stuck just shy of 5 million for ages.

Five million was considered a natural bottleneck for lifestyle streams.

But Su Yiran wasn’t thinking about all that right now. He was already quite satisfied with his current popularity.

Soon after starting, his livestream room began filling up, quickly reaching over 100,000 viewers. He began making red bean put chai ko while explaining the steps and answering questions in the chat.

“Yes, when boiling red beans, make sure to use low heat to cook them through, then drain and set aside. Be careful not to use high heat—it burns easily.”

The chat responded eagerly:

[I love red bean put chai ko! So bouncy and chewy—taking notes!]

[I made the shaved ice One-One taught us last time! Followed the steps exactly, and it was amazing!]

[One-One is so gentle today, my heart’s melting. I’m crying QAQ]

[Made it successfully +1! Now I know why mine never tasted right before. You’re the best, One-One!]

[Pulling up a little stool to learn.]

[QAQ I can only survive each day by watching One-One, send help.]

…Although Su Yiran had already filtered out lots of awkward or cringey keywords, there were still some clever ones that slipped through. Netizens were simply too creative…

Somehow, no one called him “streamer” or “mister” anymore. Somewhere along the way, a viewer started calling him “One-One,” and it caught on. Now everyone did.

He continued making the red bean put chai ko, and as the stream progressed, his viewer count rose and stabilized around 400,000. Pretty impressive for a weekday afternoon.

“When mixing the powder, use half a cup of water like this. Stir until it becomes a thick paste…”

Once the put chai ko was in the steamer, he started preparing mango sago. Soon, both desserts were finished. He moved the dishes closer to the camera, basking in a flood of drool emojis and praise.

Then he began making fried milk. As he stirred milk, sugar, and starch in a bowl with chopsticks, he suddenly heard movement near the back entrance. Turning his head, he was surprised: “Why are you here so early?”

Gu Yuanting walked up beside him. “Got off work early.” He lifted Su Yiran’s hand—the one holding the chopsticks—and kissed the back of it.

“There’s starch on it…” Su Yiran instinctively flinched, but Gu Yuanting grabbed his hand firmly and kissed it again, even more deeply.

Su Yiran was both amused and exasperated. Lately, Ting-ge had become much clingier—always kissing him when they met, wanting to hold him on his lap when they sat together, and spooning him tightly while sleeping.

They’d been married for years—how was he still acting like they just started dating? Su Yiran blushed at the thought.

He quickly redirected his attention and spotted the mango sago nearby. “Your favorite.”

Scooping a spoonful, he offered it to Gu Yuanting. “Just made it. Try it.”

Gu Yuanting took the bite. “Delicious.”

Su Yiran handed him the bowl. “Here, have the whole thing—but only half! We’re having dinner later.”

“Okay,” said Gu Yuanting, taking the bowl.

That was when Su Yiran suddenly remembered—they were live.

He’d just fed Ting-ge in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers.

Feeling a little embarrassed, he looked at the chat… only to see the entire screen filled with:

[！！！！！！！！！！]

Wall-to-wall punctuation.

Su Yiran: “…”

Come on, viewers, is this really necessary?

His livestream never showed his face—just the countertop so viewers could clearly see the dessert-making process.

So from their perspective, the streamer had been quietly stirring fried milk mix when suddenly a long, slender hand entered the frame, grabbed his, and lifted it up. What happened next was left to the imagination.

Then the camera showed a spoon of sago being offered upward—and based on the streamer’s words, it was obvious he had fed someone!

Viewers lost it.

[WHO IS THAT???]

[Wait, is One-One MARRIED?? I’m sobbing out loud.]

[Ambushed by dog food. What did I do to deserve this QAQ]

[Why are all the perfect men married already?! I can’t go on!!!]

[I’m just a poor girl and I’ve already been dumped. Crying hard.]

Su Yiran sighed. Netizens really were drama queens…

He turned to Gu Yuanting with a smile, held his hand, and brought their clasped fingers into frame: “This is my partner.”

Gu Yuanting had only just realized Su Yiran was live. He hadn’t watched any of his streams lately, restraining himself so he wouldn’t backslide.

But hearing Su Yiran call him “my partner” stirred something inside him.

He adjusted their grip—interlacing their fingers tightly—and held their hands up to the camera.

The chat exploded again:

[NOOO I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS.]

[Cold, hard dog food, slapped across my face.]

[Congrats… I guess. 😭]

[This is how the single life ends for me…]

[Okay but they’re actually really sweet together QAQ]

[Mom asked why I was crying hysterically.]

As the drama in the chat raged on, Su Yiran decided to let them cool off. He said to Gu Yuanting, “Wait outside a bit. Once I finish the fried milk, I’ll end the stream.”

Gu Yuanting nodded, glanced at the chaotic chat again, and, feeling satisfied, left with the mango sago.

On his way out, he stopped by the counter and pulled out a box containing a half-finished new wooden carving of Yiting’s logo.

He’d meant to finish it days ago, but his injured right hand had delayed things. Now that it had healed, he was ready to replace the old ugly carving with the new one.

Backstage, Su Yiran finished making the fried milk, ended the stream, and came out to find Gu Yuanting frowning in concentration, carving at the wood with a chisel.

Su Yiran had worked on the new sign a bit too, carving out the characters for “Yi,” “Ting,” and part of the decorative pattern. But his skill hadn’t improved, and it looked… kind of bad. He’d given up halfway.

Now he pinned his hopes on Ting-ge salvaging it.

He watched expectantly as Gu Yuanting, still frowning, carved carefully at the wood.

But Gu Yuanting suddenly paused, eyes narrowing as he stared at the piece.

He was starting to realize…

This might not be as simple as it seemed.