The Top Star Fell for Me at First Sight After I Transmigrated as a Dog-Like Streamer - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: An Invitation to Cohabit

He entered as if he owned the place, found disposable paper cups in the top box, poured two glasses of water, and set them on the table.

“Ah, that place is a bit closer to the company…”

Bai Xun took the paper cup, pretending to be relaxed as he fabricated a reason: “It’s just more convenient for commuting.”

“Legal is drafting a new cooperation contract,” Yu Congyue interjected slowly from the side. “Your supervisor said the mailing address needs to be updated; we’ll fill it in once the new contract is ready. I happened to be passing by, so I came to see if you needed help moving anything.”

Only then did Bai Xun remember the December offline event they had discussed earlier; because the specific details hadn’t been finalized, the contract remained unsigned.

Before he could respond, the courier he had scheduled called from downstairs. He fumbled through his pockets but couldn’t find his phone. Hearing the ringtone but unable to locate the device, he spun around in a frantic circle.

Watching him, Yu Congyue couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He reached onto the coffee table, picked up the phone, and prepared to hand it over.

Just as he picked it up, the call ended, but the screen stayed lit.

Message after message popped up in a dense, rapid-fire succession, lengthening the chat preview on the lock screen.

Yu Congyue hadn’t intended to look, but there was too much text and the messages were scrolling too fast. A few keywords caught his eye out of the corner of his vision, causing his hand to freeze mid-air.

[Unknown User]: Did you think moving away would keep you away from me?

[Unknown User]: I want you far, far away from Yue Yue. I won’t allow you to get close to him at all. You aren’t allowed to interact with him, you aren’t allowed to leech off his popularity anymore…

[Unknown User]: Why aren’t you replying? Do you really think I won’t do anything? Your ID number is 320…

[Unknown User]: ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME!

Bai Xun hadn’t realized Yu Congyue had seen the messages yet. He was peering out the door for the courier, but when he turned back, he saw Yu Congyue’s expression was grim as he stared at the phone.

This is bad.

Bai Xun looked at the courier apologetically: “I’ll send you the pickup code in a bit, so sorry, so sorry…”

With that, he practically sprinted to Yu Congyue, forcing a smile as he snatched the phone back, trying to laugh it off while deleting the messages.

“Oh, it’s just a joke, don’t look at that…”

“How long has this been going on?”

Yu Congyue interrupted him. “Is this the real reason you’re moving?”

In all the time he had known him, Bai Xun had never seen him look so stern.

Yu Congyue was well aware of this sasaeng’s existence. Two years ago, his phone number had been leaked, and that same person had used the same tone and threats—from stalking and harassment to secret filming and peeping. It had caused an absolute uproar.

However, due to the harasser being a minor and their mental state, the issue had never been fully resolved.

He looked at Bai Xun; the warmth and concern in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a palpable, icy chill.

Startled by that gaze, Bai Xun stood frozen, nervously wringing his fingers. His eyes dropped to the tips of his shoes, his throat tightening. Recalling those messages, his hands couldn’t stop trembling slightly.

In the next instant, his wrist was seized.

His body swayed, and he was suddenly pulled down to sit on Yu Congyue’s lap.

A warm palm landed on his head, rubbing his hair with significant force—enough to throw off his center of gravity, forcing his upper body to lean halfway into Yu Congyue’s embrace. The touch was much rougher than the gentle ear-petting from before, yet it provided a strangely grounding sense of security.

He didn’t push him away.

Now was not the time for bravado.

The nerves that had been wound tight for over half a month finally snapped. He struggled to hold back the tears, turning his head to bury his face against Yu Congyue’s abdomen, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

The more he told himself not to be sad, the more the inexplicable sense of grievance bubbled up.

Yu Congyue looked down at him, noticing how his knuckles had turned white from gripping his clothes. He sighed and gave his beast ears a squeeze.

“Don’t feel embarrassed. Tell me whenever something is wrong. This whole thing started because of me anyway.”

He paused, remembering how persistent that sasaeng was. It was clearly more than Bai Xun could handle on his own right now.

“For safety’s sake, why don’t you move into my place for a while?”

Bai Xun clearly hadn’t expected such a suggestion; he even wondered if he had misheard.

“…Huh?”

“You saved me before, so consider this my way of paying you back?”

“Let me think about it, Ge… let me think…”

After all, living together was a big deal. Their relationship was currently “innocent,” but if this affected Yu Congyue’s career, wouldn’t he be the villain of the story?

But since he couldn’t think of a better solution, he hesitated for a few days after Yu Congyue left. Despite Yu Congyue’s continued attempts to persuade him, Bai Xun decided to try moving into his new apartment first to see how things went.

…

Ultimately, Bai Xun agreed to the plan.

It wasn’t because he couldn’t withstand the other’s persistence, but because on the third day after Yu Congyue left, a pixelated scan of his ID card posted on his new apartment door shattered his last bit of wishful thinking.

He checked the surveillance footage with the manager. He saw the sasaeng expertly following a cleaning lady into the building. When passing the camera, she deliberately turned her head, flipped the bird, and unfurled the printed ID scan like a trophy. Then, she blended back into the residents and strolled out of the building as if she belonged there.

When Bai Xun sat in the police mediation room once again, that familiar guardian face was still full of apologies, though the impatience beneath the mask was becoming hard to hide.

“Reporting us again? What can you actually do to me?” The sasaeng kept her head down, playing on her phone. She only put it away reluctantly when the officer reminded her, but that indifferent smirk remained, her eyes full of provocation.

“Hey, you can’t be like that. Apologize to him right now.”

The guardian patted her shoulder; the tone sounded like a scolding, but the weight of it was as light as a tickle.

Bai Xun sat back with his arms crossed. Hearing this, he lost the patience to keep playing along. He suppressed the physical nausea rising from his stomach, took a breath, and spoke slowly.

“Do you think being a minor means you can do whatever you want?” His gaze didn’t waver, and his voice wasn’t loud, yet it was crystal clear. “As far as I know, you turn seventeen next month.”

The girl’s eyes flickered, but she tilted her chin up again with a “So what?” expression.

“You’re smart enough to keep changing numbers to send messages,” Bai Xun picked up the paper cup, his finger tracing the rim. “But you’re not smart enough to realize you’re using real-name registered accounts.”

The tea rippled slightly in the cup. As he stared at the small waves, his tone grew steadier.

“I’ve saved all the evidence according to a timeline. Next, I will apply for a personal protection order. You can keep violating it, and I will sue you for every single instance, one by one.”

He paused, then added as if in passing: “You’ve only got about a year left as a minor. Based on your texts, you want to leak my private info everywhere, right? You can ask the officer here—if we stack ‘picking quarrels and provoking trouble’ with ‘doxing,’ and add your history of being unrepentant, what’s the maximum sentence?”

The officer beside them added the legal terms coldly: “Picking quarrels and provoking trouble can carry up to ten years; plus infringing on personal information, that’s another seven.”

“So, at maximum, seventeen years,” Bai Xun looked at her. “Even if you don’t get the max, you’re looking at at least ten years. Are you sure you want to continue?”

The mediation room fell silent for a long moment.

Finally, it was the same old routine: a written apology and a few verbal lines spoken like a script before the matter was glossed over.

Before leaving the station, Bai Xun stood by the gatehouse and watched them drive away. Only when the car was completely out of sight did he take a different path out the back exit and slip into the car waiting at the curb.

The moment the door closed, he felt as if his bones had been removed. He leaned back against the seat and let out a long exhale. He lifted his hand, which was still shaking slightly, forced a bitter smile, and turned to look at Yu Congyue, who had already started the engine.

The moment he had seen the sasaeng in the station, he had been instantly transported back to the terror of the first time he was cornered. Finishing that speech had been his absolute limit. Now that the bravado had vanished, he was left with nothing but exhaustion and a soul-deep sense of powerlessness.

Just as he was thinking about how to pull himself together, the “click” of the seatbelt echoed in his ear.

Yu Congyue had leaned over to buckle it for him. His other hand naturally pressed onto the top of Bai Xun’s head, giving it two firm, unceremonious rubs. It made Bai Xun squint his eyes and lean in closer, letting out a soft hum.

It felt good to be petted, and he really did need the comfort right now, so he stopped pretending to be reserved. He closed his eyes and quietly enjoyed it.

Halfway through, he realized something. He leaned forward, pressing closer to Yu Congyue.

“Yu-ge, what if she follows me to your place? That look in her eyes today… it didn’t feel like she’s given up. Maybe I should just…”

“It’s too late to regret it now.” Yu Congyue withdrew his hand naturally and gripped the steering wheel. “I already had people move all your stuff over.”

“Huh?” Bai Xun sat bolt upright.

Before he could argue, the car pulled away from the curb and drove steadily forward.

“The land that the residential area sits on belongs to my family,” Yu Congyue explained casually. “Don’t worry about security. It’s extremely strict. Otherwise, she would have kept following me instead of targeting you.”

“Huh?”

Bai Xun had always been mentally prepared for the fact that “celebrities are usually rich,” but he hadn’t expected “rich” to mean “my family owns the entire district.”

The car drove leisurely into a seaside villa area. The light-colored exterior walls were hidden among lush greenery; from the outside, it didn’t look gaudy or ostentatious, it just sat there quietly, occupying a rare and beautiful view.

The car stopped at the central villa. He followed Yu Congyue in through the garage. Upon entering, he saw a massive floor-to-ceiling aquarium in the center of the living room. The seawater shimmered under the lights, and among the coral reefs were several cushions and stone platforms that looked expensive.

“Usually, it’s just me at home. Sometimes I sleep in there,” Yu Congyue tapped the glass wall, explaining naturally. “It’s a constant-temperature seawater pressure tank. The environment is similar to the deep sea. But unless there’s a special reason, I usually sleep in a bed.”

Sleeping in a fish tank sounded like dangerous behavior for a human, but for a merman, it was perfectly logical.

Only then did Bai Xun belatedly remember that Yu Congyue was a merman. He usually showed no obvious traits, so Bai Xun had almost forgotten.

His gaze lingered on Yu Congyue’s long, slender legs, his mind wandering to what a typical merman’s tail should look like.

He is so beautiful. I wonder what his tail looks like?