The Top Star Fell for Me at First Sight After I Transmigrated as a Dog-Like Streamer - Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Holding a Grudge

After a night of recovery, Bai Xun finally felt like he had come back to life.

Yu Congyue accompanied him for lunch before heading to the office. When Matt showed up with fruit tea, Bai Xun was nestled in the small room editing videos.

“Whoa, you should be starting your nap right about now, Xiao Bai,” Matt said, checking the time.

“Don’t. I really can’t sleep anymore. I slept until 10:40 with Brother Yu this morning. If I sleep any more, my brain will stop working entirely.”

Bai Xun was busy embedding subtitles and refused without a second thought, completely failing to notice Matt’s suddenly subtle expression.

“Is that so…” Matt poked the straw into the fruit tea and placed it by his hand. “Then have something sweet. Just call me if you need anything.”

Bai Xun nudged himself to the side and turned on the lamp on the other side of the desk, clearing a “workstation” for Matt. “Sure, don’t worry about me. Do your own thing.”

Throughout the entire afternoon, Matt finished two meetings, organized countless documents, and sent a file back to the company. During this whole time, Bai Xun didn’t move an inch from the computer.

“Bai, how about I take you to the back to rest for a bit? You can’t just keep sitting like this. It’s been six hours; your waist won’t be able to take it.”

From 1 PM to 7 PM, Bai Xun had only finished the rough cut of the framework. Given his usual health, pulling an all-night session wouldn’t be a problem, but now, sitting for so long left everything below his waist feeling vaguely numb, and his shoulders and neck were stiff as stone.

In this state, if he wanted to release the video by Friday and find time to prepare the script for the livestream, he would need some outside help.

He stretched and agreed to Matt’s suggestion. While heading downstairs, he sent a plea for help in the TaoMai communication group. Within five minutes, a new editing team group had been established.

[Post-production Lead – Rain: Hello, Teacher Bai. I am Rain, the post-production lead for TaoMai’s publicity department. You can just call me Xiao Yu. May I ask about your current progress and general direction? I heard you need to release by Friday. With two days left, we can start as soon as we sync up~]

[Bai Xun: Great. I’ve finished the rough cut and marked the parts that need fine editing. I need a video of about 20-25 minutes. You can refer to my previous style [Link]. Thank you all. [File]]

After replying, he realized Matt, who had been in the living room, had disappeared. He was just about to send a message when he saw Matt walking back in with a familiar person.

“Eh? Isn’t this the one from last time…” Bai Xun remembered him as the rabbit doctor who had visited before, but he couldn’t recall the name. The more he looked at the face, the more familiar it seemed.

“Xiao Bai, you know Dr. He?” Matt asked, his curious gaze moving between the two.

“Dr. He… is your surname He?” Bai Xun asked a question that plunged the room into a few seconds of silence. Realizing his blunder, he waved his hands dismissively. “I just thought of Congji’s special assistant. I remember his name is also He?”

“Correct. I was in a rush last time and forgot to introduce myself. I am He Linqing, President Yu’s private doctor. He Shian is my younger brother.”

As he spoke, Dr. He directed Matt to push Bai Xun into the small room next to the activity room to prepare.

“What preparation? Isn’t that room empty?” Bai Xun only knew there was a small room inside the activity room; he had opened it once while looking for things and saw only a storage rack.

“While you were in the hospital, President Yu converted this into a massage room. I thought you knew.” Matt pushed open the door. Only then did Bai Xun notice a massage bed had been added, the floor was covered with soft mats, and a new warm-air conditioner was operating quietly in the corner. The room even wafted with a faint, unidentifiable fragrance.

Beyond being moved, Bai Xun felt a complicated emotion he couldn’t quite put into words.

Seeing that Bai Xun could sit steadily on his own, Matt stepped out. By the time Dr. He entered, Bai Xun had obediently taken off his shirt and was lying face down, waiting.

Dr. He wasted no time. He placed supporting pillows under Bai Xun’s abdomen and legs, rubbed his palms over his back for a moment, and pressed firmly on a few specific spots to confirm the issue. “Your muscles are quite tight here. It might hurt a bit when I press down. Bear with it.”

“It’s fine, Doctor. I can take a lot of pressure… OWW!” Before he could finish his boast, Bai Xun let out a yelp, wondering exactly how much truth Dr. He had omitted with the phrase “hurt a bit.”

“Relax. I haven’t even used force yet.” Dr. He didn’t stop. Once the stiff knots were rubbed out with the right amount of pressure, Bai Xun felt his groggy head clear up significantly. “However, you’ve already got some sha (petechiae) appearing here. Hang in there.”

It had to be said that Dr. He’s technique was top-notch. Although the beginning was painful, Bai Xun felt much lighter after getting up. He sat on the edge of the bed, rotated his shoulders, and marveled at the skill after putting his clothes back on.

Dr. He maintained his calm expression. After a final check-up on the recovery progress, he set a schedule for once a week and hurried away with his medical bag.

“Dr. He is really amazing. I thought I could just endure it, but he pushed all the tension away.” Bai Xun stretched and looked at Matt, who was rolling the wheelchair back in.

“Of course. You usually have to wait over half a month to get an appointment with him. I heard from Tracy that the boss went to a lot of trouble to recruit him as a private doctor.”

“Speaking of which, I haven’t seen Tracy since that incident in the stairwell. Is she okay?” Bai Xun remembered he rarely saw her offline anymore and couldn’t help but feel worried.

“Don’t worry. Tracy has been busy dealing with President Yu’s cousin lately, so she’s been tied up.”

Before he could ask more, a new notification popped up on his phone.

[Unknown: Is the stuff I want ready yet?]

Some people really appeared the moment you mentioned them.

“It’s only been a few days, and he’s already hounding me like a ghost.” Bai Xun screenshotted the message, sent it to Matt and Yu Congyue, and tossed the phone aside with a scoff.

“It might be because the overseas sector projects are officially moving forward next month. It takes time to prepare after getting those materials, so that’s why he’s rushing.” Just as Matt finished speaking, Yu Congyue called.

“Hello? Brother, what’s up?”

“There’s a folder called ‘Materials 1120’ on the study computer. You can pick a few things from there and send them to him. The password is your birthday plus your name initials.”

“Brother, do you really… forget it, never mind. I’ll send it first.”

Now wasn’t the time to discuss the details. The priority was to handle the cousin first. As for the rest, they could talk when Yu Congyue returned.

…

In the end, Bai Xun didn’t see Yu Congyue for the next two or three days.

Yu Congyue returned at three or four in the morning every night. Every morning when Bai Xun woke up, the first person he saw was Matt working beside him.

He figured everyone was getting busy. Since he sent the files, the cousin hadn’t responded further. Most of the time Matt was at home, he was in work mode—laptop never leaving his side, even skipping meals.

If even the usually relaxed Matt had reached this level, it was even worse for Yu Congyue.

Fortunately, with the team’s help, his video was successfully edited ahead of schedule. After hitting “send,” he felt a bit nervous. This was his first time uploading a long-form video over ten minutes. In an era of fast-paced short videos, he couldn’t be sure the audience would have the patience to watch the whole thing.

He waited patiently. It wasn’t until TaoMai’s business department sent a message to book tomorrow night’s livestream that his heart finally settled. When he checked the backend data, it was unexpectedly good.

In just one hour, it reached the number one spot on the real-time charts. Views exceeded 1.7 million, with nearly 7,000 likes and comments.

[The little handicrafts the kids made are so cute. Is there a link to buy them? I want some!] [Host, your leg is in that state and you’re still making videos? Such a strong spirit… Giving you a like for support.] [Wow, the sponsor this time is TaoMai? Regardless, anyone providing a better environment for the kids is a good sponsor! The clothes they’re wearing seem to be their own brand; looks pretty good, I’m going to support them!] [Holy crap, isn’t that Cheng Yi’er? What is he doing there?] [Inside info: The Cheng family used to be a mess; he only started developing after he was recognized and brought back.]

The comments were mostly positive, but a few questioning ones inevitably appeared. He picked a few with a relatively normal tone to reply to.

[Is the host planning to sell a sob story? I understand it’s not easy running an account alone, but isn’t this a bit unsightly? Are you going to start selling products next?] [@Little Bai’s Life Guide: Thank you for your question. I don’t believe there is anything about my background worth using as a ‘sob story.’ At least my upbringing made me feel very safe, and with the help of my teachers, I successfully got into university. Now that I can repay the orphanage with my efforts, I don’t see anything wrong with it. I will indeed be doing a sales livestream later; the choice to buy belongs to the audience. All I can do is select products carefully so everyone gets good items at a fair price. That’s all.]

[The new appliances all seem to have TaoMai labels. Isn’t the advertising intent a bit too obvious?] [@Little Bai’s Life Guide: This was my request. Initially, TaoMai intended to quietly donate and renovate the orphanage. However, I believe that companies doing good deeds should be seen by the public. Besides, this isn’t something shameful; there’s no need to hide it. I think this is the best time for the children to feel the social responsibility of private enterprises, so I had a batch of labels made and put them on. It wasn’t their idea.]

[You started with the ‘Poor Man’s Household’ series, and now you’re getting bigger and forgetting your roots, host.] [@Little Bai’s Life Guide: I’m sorry you feel that way. I would love to continue that series, but many creators are now making high-quality life-hack videos. I believe new creators should be given a chance to be discovered. Monopolizing a niche isn’t a good strategy. Doing something new while maintaining steady traffic is also very interesting.]

…

After this round of replies, his follower count surged to nearly 900,000. His private messages and work email were flooded with business collaboration invites. The hashtag #LittleBaiSoberStatements climbed to fourth on the hot search list, and the pinned TaoMai livestream preview reached a staggering 110,000 clicks.

The TaoMai business group was filled with celebratory firework emojis. According to the operation’s backend screenshots, even TaoMai’s official account gained nearly 70,000 followers from this wave of traffic. Many charitable organizations also sent in proposals for collaboration.

Thanks to Bai Xun’s emotional intelligence and control over video quality, everything was moving in a positive direction.

[TaoMai – Fu Yu: Teacher Bai, there’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s an invitation to attend the offline promotion for the Warm Winter Season. [Link]]

Bai Xun clicked it, and the first thing he saw was the face of the brand ambassador, Cheng Yi’er. He was so startled he nearly dropped his phone.

He exited the link. Before he could refuse, he saw a new message.

[TaoMai – Fu Yu: What happened the other day was indeed an accident. Yi’er feels very guilty about the mistake that caused you to fall, so he has always wanted to apologize to you in person. He was afraid you’d mind, so I took the liberty of asking for your thoughts.]

Mistake? Fall? So that’s how Cheng Yi’er explained it.

[Bai Xun: I need to think about it.]

[TaoMai – Fu Yu: Alright, Teacher Bai. The Warm Winter Season is mainly to promote our own winter clothing and launch some new entrepreneurial brands. The offline schedule is in the link. It’s not mandatory, especially since you’re not in the best physical state right now. If it’s inconvenient, we’ll think of something else.]

[Bai Xun: Okay, but my leg really isn’t great lately. It’s highly likely I won’t be able to attend.]

[TaoMai – Fu Yu: No problem, Teacher Bai. There’s one more thing to discuss in advance. The ‘Easy Go’ project will officially launch next month. If it’s convenient next week, can we meet to discuss the promotion plan?]

[Bai Xun: Let’s do it next Thursday. I’m free after 1 PM.]

Shortly after exiting the chat, he received a new friend request.

[Cheng Yi’er: Requesting to add you as a friend.]

Bai Xun got goosebumps just seeing the name. He intended to ignore it, but then he saw the profile picture—it looked like a group photo. Out of curiosity, he clicked it. It was actually a photo of the original owner and Cheng Yi’er.

He remembered this photo clearly. When he first arrived, he had seen a photo in the album that had been torn and taped back together, but it was missing the face of the person next to the original owner. Now the photo was complete, but it felt wrong no matter how he looked at it.

The original owner’s smile was forced, while Cheng Yi’er’s smile was sincere. Though he looked young, the calculation and ambition in his eyes were no less than an adult’s.

Bad luck.

Bai Xun thought back to the locked diary upstairs.

If all else failed, he would just have to use physical force to break it open. He had to clarify the relationship between the original owner and Cheng Yi’er as soon as possible. Otherwise, at this rate, it would eventually interfere with his money-making.

“Matt, do you have a hammer in your car?”

There was no time like the present. Since he thought of it, he might as well do it now.

“I do. And a screwdriver. You want them?” Matt didn’t care why Bai Xun suddenly wanted tools. He turned around and brought them all. Under Bai Xun’s guidance, they successfully found the slightly old diary in the room’s drawer.

Bai Xun took the hammer, muttered a “Sorry about this,” and easily pried the lock open. He flipped the hard cover. On the first page was a sentence covered by black marker.

He held it up to the light to carefully decipher the hidden handwriting.

[Little Orange is my best friend. I want to protect him forever.]

Great. Just reading the first page, Bai Xun could predict where this story was going.

Sure enough, the diary seemed to have been started by the original owner in elementary school. At first, it just recorded daily life—sometimes long, sometimes short. Though plain, it was clearly quite warm.

That changed when “Little Orange” (Cheng Yi’er) appeared. The style of the second half of the diary took a sharp turn.

Almost every entry recorded their daily interactions. Bai Xun clearly felt the change in the original owner’s mindset.

At first, the original owner felt concern and pity for Cheng Yi’er, who couldn’t transform into a human. Then came joy at his first transformation, followed by anger upon learning he was being bullied. But after making a promise to him, for some reason, the bullying that had targeted Cheng Yi’er shifted to the original owner. The clearly dried tear stains on the diary said it all.

[Little Orange has changed. He’s so strange. Facing him, I always feel like I’m not good enough, but he always says it’s just my imagination.]

[They are all isolating me because I play with Little Orange. The teachers always say it’s my fault, but I didn’t do those things.]

[My Little White is gone. Little Orange says it’s my fault.]

[The teachers came to apologize to me. I don’t understand, but I can’t be happy.]

[He’s gone.]

The latter part of the diary was blank. Based on the timeline, the original owner stopped writing as soon as Cheng Yi’er left.

Bai Xun sat in silence. He took out his phone and searched for the racial advantages of fox beastmen. Seeing that most replies mentioned “unusual charisma,” all the clues clicked together.

This wasn’t charisma; it was blatant psychological control.

He thought it was a troublesome legacy problem, but it turned out to be a vicious backstabbing plot by an ungrateful wolf.

Bai Xun sneered and accepted the friend request. While the other person was still typing, his fingers flew across the screen, sending a paragraph of filth and insults, followed by a series of personal attacks and “kind regards” to his family members.

Likely caught off guard, Cheng Yi’er was extremely slow to respond. The chat box stayed on “Typing…”

[Bai Xun: Cat got your tongue? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking. Playing the victim doesn’t work on me anymore. Helping an ungrateful wolf like you back then was a mistake. Trash like you should have just rotted in the mud. Whoever touches you gets bad luck for eight lifetimes :)]

[Cheng Yi’er: You remember everything?]

[Bai Xun: Is that the only sentence you know?]

[Cheng Yi’er: I know you hold a grudge for what I did, but if you stood in my shoes, you’d understand why I did it. A-Xun, I’ve liked you since we were kids. Why don’t you understand?]

[Bai Xun: You call this ‘liking’? I’m too lazy to even expose you. If it weren’t for the future collaboration, I wouldn’t even reply to your messages. I hope you know your place. I can let the past go, but if you try to test my bottom line again, just you wait and see.]

[Cheng Yi’er: If that’s what you think, I respect your choice. Thank you for being willing to give me another chance.]

Bai Xun didn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth. Saying he “let the past go” was a lie; he had no right to forgive anyone on behalf of the original owner who had already been hurt. He just hadn’t found a better opportunity for revenge yet. If there was one…

He would let Cheng Yi’er know what it truly meant to hold a grudge.