Chapter 40: Fox Shenanigans (Please Collect, Follow, and Vote!)

“Mmmmm.”

With the little fox accompanying her, Yu Xueqing confidently began her new day’s live-streamed product promotion.

To sell the tea, her schedule for the day, aside from cooking for Xiang Xiaoan, was entirely devoted to studying and memorizing the tea’s backstory.

She had memorized everything about Zhenghe Gongfu, Tanyang Gongfu, and the origin and export history of Dongding Oolong.

“Welcome—”

After half an hour of streaming, the stream began to gain slight traction; a few viewers had appeared in Yu Xueqing’s live room, silently lurking.

Yu Xueqing’s eyes lit up; she began brewing tea, slowly sipping and narrating the tea’s story and its flavor.

Aqing’s story began in the Song Dynasty, recounting how the oolong tea in her hands had once been a tribute tea.

She spoke with animated enthusiasm, as if she had personally witnessed the rise of oolong tea to tribute status.

【Live Stream Audience: 8】

And as Aqing began speaking about tea.

【Live Stream Audience: 3】

Yu Xueqing glanced at the data, her face stiffening with a hint of grievance; she quickly flipped through the script her father had given her, reciting it verbatim with full expression—why had everyone left?

And if Yu Xueqing had opened the pages of the two viewers in her live room, she would have seen their account IDs: one named “Viewing Flowers Through Mist.”

The other ID was “Cyber Tiankehan.”

One was Yu Zhenghong using Chen Peipei’s account to artificially inflate Yu Xueqing’s viewer count.

The other, Cyber Tiankehan, was actually Tang You, Yu Xueqing’s quiet roommate, who was slaughtering enemies in a battlefield game while casually boosting her stream’s popularity.

And the last viewer in the live room was An Sheng.

“Mmmmmm.”

Under the table, An Sheng lay sprawled across Yu Xueqing’s instep, staring intently at the phone screen before him.

From An Sheng’s experience, Yu Xueqing’s livestream had no real problems.

First, Yu Xueqing had a pleasant appearance; her smiling, crinkled eyes radiated sincerity—a surefire kill for older male viewers.

Second, Aqing’s script was fine; though Yu Zhenghong was a bit of a sleaze, he had still used his business to buy a car, a house, and even rebuilt his ancestral home.

Yu Zhenghong had no shortage of eloquence, and the script he prepared for Yu Xueqing blended official history with wild tales—extremely absurd and highly entertaining.

According to legend, why was General Zhao Zilong able to charge in and out of Changban Slope seven times and emerge unscathed?

Answer: Zhao Zilong wore a bikini, his beauty like a celestial being, stunning the unworldly enemy troops into stunned silence, after which they blushed furiously, dropped their weapons, and covered their crotches.

The wild tales Yu Zhenghong prepared for Aqing were mostly absurd jokes like this.

Aqing had a pleasant appearance, engaging content, sold only authentic products, shipped directly from the origin, and offered competitive pricing.

So why wasn’t anyone placing orders?

An Sheng pondered for a moment, and arrived at a very simple answer.

Aqing wasn’t the problem!

The problem was the world!

The female-led tea-selling stream had already been ruined by all sorts of gimmicks.

Aqing was selling her family’s tea, shipped directly from their own tea estate.

But other female streamers weren’t necessarily like that; their tea mostly came from commission-based platforms—they were pure salespeople.

They didn’t know tea, didn’t know its history, varieties, or flavor profiles.

But they knew how to target older male viewers: swap the bikini for a tea canister, shove it against their chest, and launch a direct assault on the male lower body.

They didn’t care about tea quality; they were just salespeople, not responsible for after-sales service.

The female tea-selling stream had long been warped, creating a rigid stereotype.

Aqing’s approach was perfectly normal!

She was using the script that Yu Zhenghong—a greasy middle-aged man—had scribbled out in nonsense.

Wrong stream, wrong script—of course she couldn’t retain passing viewers.

Why watch a beardless youth blabber when you could go to the neighboring female tea streamer’s live room and watch a fiery dance?

“No!”

The fox’s little face scrunched up in worry—Aqing’s livestream sales were doing terribly.

If this continued, not only would she never get off the ground, An Sheng feared she’d even lose money on utilities.

“Looks like I’ll have to step in myself and deploy the seduction tactics from the Yinfu platform!”

“Aqing! No chicken drumstick in your bowl tomorrow—I’ll be gnawing your thigh tonight!”

An Sheng pondered, then hardened his expression and opened the screen-recording function on his phone.

Then he unleashed the fox’s one-word mantra, posting a single danmu as a viewer.

On the Yinfu platform, one phone number could register up to four accounts.

An Sheng had previously used Yu Xueqing’s phone number to register his own account, originally planning to become a net beggar in Yinfu livestreams.

But as his standard of living improved, An Sheng had settled into a lazy life, lounging on the sofa as a fat-belly fox.

White Little Demon God (An Sheng’s ID): 【Host, your face is so chubby—how do you gain weight? I absolutely love round, plump little faces.】

As soon as the danmu was posted, An Sheng crawled from under the table to the side of Yu Xueqing’s chair, squeezing her big butt, then pressed his entire body flat against her back like a sneaky little dog.

“Inhale～Exhale—”

An Sheng arched his back and sucked in his belly, hiding himself completely behind Yu Xueqing’s narrow back.

“Huh? Ah—”

Yu Xueqing had been pouting, muttering to herself as she brewed tea, doubting her sales talent.

But the next instant, she saw a danmu on her livestream screen.

Someone asked how she gained weight on her face!

Yu Xueqing nearly exploded in rage.

Yu Xueqing’s smile was sweet and adorable, like a quiet, gentle girl next door.

But her ideal body type had always been Mo Yiqing’s—supermodel proportions.

Long, balanced legs, a six-pack, and a red dot on a white stove that defied gravity without any help.

In the moment of shock and fury, An Sheng immediately exposed his tail in the livestream camera’s view.

And his normally fluffy fox tail suddenly puffed up into full, wild fluff.

Yu Xueqing saw the fox tail and felt nothing amiss.

The little fox was always squished against her back; occasionally flicking out a tail—was that surprising?

Yu Xueqing stared wide-eyed at the danmu insulting her face as too chubby.

She didn’t care whether her face was chubby or not.

But she was certain—the person who posted that danmu had an incredibly bold nerve!

Yu Xueqing was furious, but she huffed and pretended she hadn’t seen it.

At the same time, the fox tail quickly retracted; as An Sheng landed, he casually loosened the hair tie holding Yu Xueqing’s ponytail.

Later, he’d add a pair of fox ears and turn Aqing into a modern-day Daji.

“Wait.”

An Sheng grinned triumphantly, crawling back under the table to find his risqué image group and trick some gullible groupmates into lurking for the modern Daji, boosting Aqing’s popularity.

But for some reason, when An Sheng saw Aqing with a fox tail.

A sudden image flashed in his mind.

“Your Majesty, I am truly a white fox~” said the Samoyed, whimpering.

“Absurd.”

An Sheng let out a pure, innocent fox mmm, utterly disgusted by the absurd image in his mind.

Today

I’ll just help Aqing put on a show!

The Peak Consulting Group can wait—for now.

Once they’ve re-painted the walls and cleaned out every crack and corner of those strawberry tarts.

Then An Sheng will make them endure another round of maximum losses and ultimate humiliation.

Strong laxatives are ready, herring cans are ready, the Vinda toilet paper designed to clog drains is ready.

An Sheng has already scouted Peak Consulting Group.

Now he just waits for them to finish cleaning and return to normal workdays.

Then the fox can resume bombarding them.

[92] (End of Chapter)