Host, the villain's corruption level has exploded!

Chapter 806: The number one on the leaderboard is having trouble sleeping again tonight (8)

Song Zhishu got home at exactly seven o'clock, which she felt was proof of her good luck, so she opened another cup of milk tea to celebrate.

As for the rest, she gave it all to her uncle and aunt who cooked at home, and to Xiaoyu.

She felt that she was truly a kind and benevolent person.

Aside from her bad temper, there's really nothing to criticize about her.

Song Zhishu thought this with such self-righteousness, and returned to her room after dinner.

The phone had been delivered to her home. She spent some time adjusting it to her preferred settings, and then couldn't wait to log onto the Shark platform to check her private messages.

Bian Yan has returned home. His old, beat-up phone, which seems to have been passed down from his ancestors, is a bit laggy, but the radio reception is surprisingly good, so he doesn't need to get a new phone.

Moreover, he has great patience; when it's stuck, he can daydream without restraint.

This time, he entered the Shark platform page in 3 minutes, which was the fastest record. He was quite satisfied and felt that his connection with his phone was getting deeper and deeper.

He skillfully opened his personal homepage, wanting to see how many videos he had posted.

He enjoys watching the total number of his videos; it gives him a sense of accomplishment.

This time, however, he didn't look at his video count at first. His drowsy eyes fell on the "revenue share balance," and the dim light moved across his bent back, completely obscuring his face.

250008.7 (yuan)

Wait, is the decimal point misplaced?

Wasn't it 8.7 before?

He couldn't bear to withdraw the money; every time he looked at it, he felt it was proof of his hard work.

What's going on? Why are there so many extra numbers all of a sudden? And they're so long!

He felt no joy at suddenly becoming rich, only a heavy heart.

Bian Yan has always believed in one principle: there is no such thing as a free lunch. If there is, it is because it is poisoned.

The world only favors capable people and those who are good-looking.

And he, clearly, is neither.

His private messages showed 621, indicating that he had 621 messages that he hadn't read.

Bian Yan: ? What are you doing?

He clicked on each question, and they were all asking him how an unknown, ordinary male streamer managed to attract rich women. What a nutcase! 25 yuan is a huge sum for him, but for others, it might just be the cost of a meal.

He looked speechless and deleted them one by one.

His neck was a little stiff from deleting things for 25 minutes.

Actually, his phone is quite peculiar; apart from slow loading, it has no other problems.

I finally deleted and blocked some irrelevant people, and there are still three unread messages left. The one above is from a fan of his for two years, asking him how he's been lately and how his health is.

This fan was in his thirties, which was relatively young, but seeing this quiet yet persistent young man, I still felt a sense of affection for him. Bian Yan didn't quite understand why someone would care about him as a person just because of his videos, but he still tried his best to reply.

"I'm fine, thank you for your concern." After replying with this message, he left.

The second person, he remembered, was the one who swiped his card for 25 yuan.

He clicked on it and saw her ask: "Do you know how much it costs?!"

Bian Yan suddenly remembered the "50w" he had seen.

What does that 'w' mean?

He suddenly had a flash of inspiration and thought of his account balance.

Could it really be ten thousand?!

They swiped 500,000 on him?!

Bian Yan's pupils dilated, and although his face remained expressionless, this single gesture was enough to reveal his current mood.

After the initial shock came boundless terror.

He quickly opened the keyboard and typed out a sentence, but then suddenly remembered the strange customer from earlier that afternoon who had said his politeness had a time limit. He revised and rewrote the sentence, finally arriving at this one.

"It is impolite of you to involve me in money laundering activities without my consent."

Lying leisurely in bed with a face mask on, Song Zhishu, who was eager to see the shark-themed screen, was moved to tears of gratitude: ?

Song Zhishu laughed: "A mere 50 yuan, do I need to launder money?"

Edge:………

It took him a long time to process the information: someone had actually gifted him 50 yuan worth of virtual gifts.

Song Zhishu felt that the other person's prolonged silence must mean they were crying bitterly.

In fact, according to Bianyan's understanding, people who are capable of doing such things are not very smart.

He stared blankly at his bank account balance, unsure how to react. Having grown accustomed to a life of hardship, even with so much money, he still didn't know what to do with it.

"...Why do you do this?"

Song Zhishu replied quickly, as if she had been waiting for him: "I love your sleep aid! I always have insomnia, but after using your sleep aid, I sleep well, and that makes me happy. If I'm happy, I'll send you money!"

He pursed his lips and hastily looked away from the screen.

Do you like his... videos?

[Ding! Target's affection level increased by 5, current affection level is 5]

In fact, Bian Yan's outward appearance is a barrier in his heart.

The landscape in my heart, overgrown with gloom and moss, is desolate, and even the warmest spring sunshine cannot bring it back to life.

But one, only a tiny bit, was alive, bloodied, with wounds that seemed to breathe. He was indeed dark, but he was not despicable.

He loved sleeping, connecting himself with that ethereal yet dreamlike realm.

He knew that some people struggled in reality, mired in a quagmire and barely able to save themselves. He knew this all too well because his entire childhood had been like this. In every sleepless night, the deathly white ceiling and the drizzling rain were his only companions.

Therefore, he didn't want anyone else to experience those nightmares and wanted everyone to get a good night's sleep.

However, during this process, he received very little praise, let alone feedback, leaving him to struggle alone.

And now suddenly someone appears and throws 50 at him, telling him that he did a great job.

What moved him wasn't the 50 yuan, but her words.

Perhaps even Song Zhishu wouldn't have thought of this.

While waiting, she watched some of Zhong Wan'an's sleep-inducing videos, which were quite enjoyable, but she still couldn't fall asleep. Finally, Bian Yan replied to her.

Still

"Thank you."

However, this time Song Zhishu raised her eyebrows and smiled.

She bit into a popping fruit candy between her lips and teeth, feeling a rare sense of comfort.

At 9 p.m., she entered the live broadcast room again.