The Top Star Fell for Me at First Sight After I Transmigrated as a Dog-Like Streamer - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Highlight Moment

Bai Xun strode out with his camera, wandering aimlessly. By the time he finished shooting, his microphone had run out of battery, and his knees felt a bit numb. Looking around for a road sign to check his navigation, he spotted a sign across the street in the dim light. He couldn’t quite make it out, so he used his phone to zoom in. It looked familiar.

Lianpu Community North Road.

He opened WeChat and checked the location Yu Congyue had sent him earlier: “Lu City National Ocean Park,” a straight-line distance of only 1.1 km.

He weighed the fruit he had just bought in his hand and sent Yu Congyue a message.

AA Lucky Little Bai: Bro, are you still filming?

An instant reply:

Brother Yu: Still filming.

AA Lucky Little Bai: Then I’ll bring some fruit for a visit. Hope I’m not interrupting?

Brother Yu: Where are you? I’ll have my assistant pick you up.

AA Lucky Little Bai: No worries, Bro, I’m almost there!

Brother Yu: Alright, stay safe.

In a good mood and with a short distance to cover, it took him just over ten minutes to reach the set. As he approached the barricades, he was stopped by someone wearing an ID badge.

“You must be Mr. Bai? I’m Yu’s assistant, Matt. Please follow me.”

After navigating halfway through the park, they arrived at a temporary rest area. It was a semi-open tent equipped with moon chairs and tables topped with steaming ginger tea. Matt poured him a fresh cup. “Brother Yu is almost finished with this segment. Please take a seat and wait a moment.”

Bai Xun thanked him and told him to get back to his work. Matt didn’t refuse; he had plenty to do, so he nodded and ran off. Bai Xun took a sip of the ginger tea. It was spicy, but it felt warm and cozy.

Not far away, Yu Congyue was chatting with several other celebrities. The lights hit his shoulders, making his beauty look as if it were coated in a shimmering special effect. Bai Xun couldn’t resist taking a few photos with his phone.

He pinched to zoom. Then zoomed in some more. The more he looked, the more handsome he thought Yu was. Suddenly, the person in the lens turned around, locking eyes with him through the screen. Yu Congyue just looked at him, the corners of his eyes tilted slightly up with an uncontrollable softness.

Bai Xun’s heart skipped a beat. He understood the “anti-fans” even less now.

Just then, a rustling sound came from behind him. Unlike the sounds made by the staff, it sounded like someone rummaging through a car. He stood up alertly, tentatively approaching and tapping the camera on his chest. In the shadows, a figure was hunched over inside a nanny van, frantically searching for something while muttering curses like “Why is there nothing here?” and “Damn it.”

A thief?

Bai Xun shouted, “What are you doing?” and lunged forward to block the car door. The person whipped around, bolted out of the car, and tried to run. Bai Xun was faster—he tripped the person, pinned their wrists behind their back, and pressed them to the ground.

Instead of being scared, the person screamed even louder, attracting nearby staff. When Tracy arrived, she saw Bai Xun pinning down a tightly bundled-up individual who was struggling wildly and screaming about “intentional assault.”

“What… what’s going on?”

Bai Xun and the security guards managed to restrain the person. He briefly explained what the individual had been doing in the car; most people realized immediately that this was likely a sasaeng (stalker fan).

“Bai Xun, you shameless jerk!” the person suddenly shrieked. “Don’t think you can climb the ladder just by leeching off Congyue’s fame! It’s all because of you… because of you, he’s getting insulted!”

Bai Xun froze for a few seconds upon hearing this, his grip loosening slightly. That split second of daze gave the stalker an opening; they lunged upward, grabbed a rock from the ground, and swung it violently at Bai Xun.

“Little Bai!”

From a distance, Yu Congyue’s pupils contracted. He sprinted over almost instantly.

Bai Xun snapped back to his senses and dodged quickly. He grabbed a nearby teleprompter board, used it to block the rock with a loud thud, and then shoved it back with all his might.

Thump!

The stalker fell to the ground wailing. Everyone on set stood frozen in place. Yu Congyue stopped his run; he saw Bai Xun standing there against the light—perfect shoulder line, sharp gaze, and clean, decisive movements. Yu Congyue’s Adam’s apple bobbed; his heart was racing uncontrollably.

To him, Bai Xun seemed to be glowing. And he couldn’t look away.

…

The stalker was soon firmly controlled by staff and security. The production team had called the police early in the chaos, and soon, sirens pierced the night as a police car pulled up nearby.

Bai Xun bent over to pick up the large electronic teleprompter, which now had a significant dent. He traced the mark with his finger, his brow furrowed as he mentally calculated how much he’d have to pay to replace it.

As he was worrying about the cost, a figure appeared before him. The air filled with a familiar scent. Before he could look up, his shoulders were gripped firmly and shaken slightly.

“Hey, hey, Brother Yu, aren’t you filming?”

Dizzy from the shaking, Bai Xun reached out to steady himself against Yu Congyue’s chest to create some distance. But Yu Congyue clearly didn’t care about distance; he frantically checked Bai Xun for injuries. Only after confirming there were no wounds did he finally sigh in relief.

But as soon as that breath left him, his gaze turned cold and sharp, landing on the stalker being held by the police. The stalker was still struggling, pointing at them and muttering something. A police officer walked over.

“Are you the ones who reported this?” The officer’s tone was purely professional.

Tracy nodded and briefly recounted the events. The officer added, “The suspect is now accusing this gentleman of intentional assault; there is indeed an injury on the suspect’s forehead. Is there any surveillance footage or evidence to prove this was self-defense?”

There were no cameras in the open-air venue, and the incident happened so fast that the crew didn’t have time to record it. Seeing this, the stalker laughed triumphantly from the ground, shouting that they were going to sue for malicious injury.

The usually calm Tracy was getting frantic. “They broke into the set without permission and tried to steal things! There was no time to capture evidence!” She asked the surrounding staff, but almost no one had captured the full process; most had only started recording after Bai Xun had already pinned the person down.

Yu Congyue frowned. Bai Xun was at the start of his career; if this wasn’t handled properly and he was framed, the consequences would be more than just “troublesome.” He exchanged a look with Tracy, about to brainstorm a way to maneuver the situation when a short, clear voice came from behind them:

“Recording finished.”

They both turned around. Bai Xun took a sports camera off his chest strap and skillfully checked the footage. His smile looked as if he had anticipated this exact scenario.

“I’ve had it recording from the start,” he said, handing the camera to the officer. “The light is a bit dim, but the whole process is clear.”

The stalker hadn’t realized the situation had changed and continued to yell. Bai Xun glanced at them and walked over with a calm expression.

“Sorry, but keeping a work record is common sense. If I see any negative news about me after tonight, I won’t mind suing you until you’re bankrupt.”

Though he wasn’t sure he could actually win that much, seeing the other person’s bravado vanish made him realize the stalker was likely legally illiterate too.

The police quickly reviewed the video. It showed the whole sequence: the rummaging, the flight, the attack, Bai Xun’s counter-move, and the reactions of the witnesses. With sufficient evidence, they took the stalker to the police car. Tracy went along to give a statement, and the staff began to disperse.

Once order was restored, the adrenaline left Bai Xun’s body. He slumped into a moon chair, looking up sideways at Yu Congyue.

“Brother Yu, being a celebrity is really hard.”

Yu Congyue hadn’t expected Bai Xun to feel sorry for him instead of complaining or being scared. Touched, he couldn’t help but reach out and rub Bai Xun’s head. His hand moved from the crown of his head to his beast ears. His fingers paused for a moment upon touching the soft fur, then gently pinched the tip of an ear as if hooked by the sensation.

Bai Xun trembled slightly as if electrified, but he forced himself to stay still, his ears twitching backward.

“Being a public figure is just like this,” Yu Congyue said softly. “But thank you for tonight. Want to grab some late-night snacks after we wrap?”

As he spoke, his palm remained naturally over Bai Xun’s ear. The warmth traveled down the edge of his ear, and Bai Xun felt like he was being set on fire. His heart rate went wild. His back felt chilly, and his tail began to wag uncontrollably behind him.

Right at the moment of peak loss of control, his wrist vibrated noticeably.

Beep—

The fitness tracker on his wrist issued a warning, indicating an abnormally high heart rate.

Bai Xun snapped back to reality. He cleared his throat and hurriedly stammered, “Sure…” before quickly changing the subject. His logic told him to pull away, but his body felt glued there, even wanting to lean closer to that hand. He didn’t understand where this feeling came from; Yu Congyue seemed to have a silent, powerful magnetism.

Was he really being enchanted?

He grew more confused the more he thought about it. It wasn’t until the floor manager called Yu Congyue for the final shots that the hand was forced to let go. Both of their gazes showed a hint of reluctance.

Bai Xun watched him return to the set. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a staff member carrying the broken teleprompter.

“Um… sorry about that. I just grabbed it in the heat of the moment. Let me know how much it costs, and I’ll pay for it.” He scratched his head awkwardly, pulling out his phone to scan a code.

“No need, Mr. Bai,” the staff member waved him off. “These devices have a budget for wear and tear. We’re just glad you weren’t hurt. Really, no need to pay.”

After confirming twice that it wouldn’t be docked from their pay, Bai Xun felt relieved and settled back down with his phone.

Yu Congyue’s session took longer than expected. After the final scene, he was called to the interview room for several behind-the-scenes clips. People kept passing by, walkie-talkies crackled, and equipment was being rolled around—the whole site was wrapped in a blanket of white noise. Having been on the move for over ten hours, exhaustion finally hit Bai Xun. He curled up in the chair, hugging his tail, and fell asleep before he knew it.

When Yu Congyue finally walked out, this was the scene he found:

Bai Xun was fast asleep in the chair, his tail curled in his arms, covered by a blanket someone had tucked around him. Matt was nearby packing up, occasionally checking on him.

Seeing Yu Congyue approach, Matt was about to wake Bai Xun up but was stopped by a look. Yu Congyue walked over. First, he gently pinched the tip of Bai Xun’s ear, then stroked the tip of his tail. The sleeping Bai Xun let out a soft hum, part protest, part dependent.

After watching him for a moment, Yu Congyue didn’t hesitate. He picked him up in a princess carry. He shifted his weight slightly; Bai Xun was lighter than expected.

Matt and another assistant tactfully held up folding reflectors on both sides, completely shielding them from view. Only after Bai Xun was tucked into the back seat with the blanket adjusted and Yu Congyue had entered the car did they put the reflectors away.

“You guys head back first,” Yu Congyue instructed. “Come to the office tomorrow after 2:00 PM to hand over the materials. Tonight counts as overtime. Matt, remember to apply for paid leave for everyone.”