Song Kewen, undeterred by the teasing, kept his arm around Xie Xiaobao’s shoulders, his grin never fading. Old Wang, calling him a fool, stayed on the far side of the room, watching their antics.
Besides them, the large meeting room held the other remaining members of the online artist training department. Today, President’s Special Assistant Fang Huaiyue was coming to arrange new contracts, so everyone had gathered.
In the spacious meeting room, the two groups sat distinctly apart at opposite ends.
“Tch! So shortsighted,” a woman in a tight, sexy skirt sneered from the middle of her group, looking disdainfully at Xie Xiaobao and Song Kewen’s playful roughhousing.
Xie Xiaobao recognized her. She was one of the streamers chosen for training alongside Song Kewen, known for her impressive dance skills and high popularity on Weibo and streaming platforms.
“If you’re so above it, why don’t you skip it?” Song Kewen shot back, letting go of Xie Xiaobao and crossing his arms, unapologetically sharp.
The woman opened her mouth to retort, but the meeting room door swung open, and a stern-faced man in a suit walked in.
“Everyone here?” Fang Huaiyue scanned the room, asking.
“All here, all here. Sorry to trouble you, Special Assistant Fang, for coming in person,” a potbellied man rushed forward, crowding close to Fang Huaiyue.
This was Zong Wei, the other agent besides Old Wang. Old Wang managed only Xie Xiaobao and Song Kewen, while the remaining streamers were under Zong Wei.
Fang Huaiyue glanced at Zong Wei’s fawning smile, his brow furrowing slightly but imperceptibly. “No need for formalities.”
“Everyone, take a seat. Let’s begin.”
Fang Huaiyue sat down, instructing his assistant to distribute the new contracts. “These are the revised contracts. Review them, and if there are no issues, you can sign.”
Xie Xiaobao, Song Kewen, and Old Wang sat together, each studying their contract. Old Wang flipped through his, smacked his lips, and leaned over to peek at Xie Xiaobao’s.
Xie Xiaobao looked back, puzzled. Old Wang shushed him, quickly scanning a few clauses. As expected, Xie Xiaobao’s contract was far more favorable than their previous ones.
Old Wang’s own contract, while more lenient, was within normal bounds. But Xie Xiaobao’s? The terms were so generous they practically screamed “free promotion, no cost.”
Xie Xiaobao, after a few pages, also sensed something off. Compared to his old contract, this one was too good to be true—the company taking only a 20% cut felt like a scam from a news report.
He glanced uncertainly at Old Wang, who patted his shoulder and whispered, “Sign it. It’s fine.”
Xie Xiaobao scratched his cheek, picked up the pen, and signed his name.
Once everyone had signed, the assistant collected copies for filing. Fang Huaiyue, still aloof, nodded and said formally, “I look forward to working with you all.”
“Special Assistant Fang, got time tonight? My girls here have admired you for ages. How about joining us for a casual dinner?” Zong Wei, close to Fang Huaiyue, gestured to the gaudily dressed girls behind him, his smile sleazy.
Fang Huaiyue frowned, his tone icy. “No need. If you’ve got nothing else, Agent Zong, you’re free to go. I have business with Agent Wang.”
Zong Wei’s smile froze, his face flushing with embarrassment. He shot a venomous glare at Song Kewen, who was stifling a laugh, then forced a smile at Fang Huaiyue. “Right, right, we won’t bother you then.”
Zong Wei and his group filed out. Once the door closed, Fang Huaiyue’s stern expression softened. His gaze fell on Xie Xiaobao, who instinctively sat up straighter, expecting serious business. Instead, Fang Huaiyue pulled a delicate box from his assistant’s file bag.
“This is from President He for you.”
“Huh?” Xie Xiaobao blinked, caught off guard. Fang Huaiyue handed him the box, and he took it reflexively before asking, “What’s this?”
Fang Huaiyue shook his head. “I don’t know. President He said to open it yourself.”
“Oh.” Xie Xiaobao held the box, feeling it’d be rude to open it on the spot, so he tucked it into his backpack.
Song Kewen kicked him under the table, winking with a gossipy grin.
“I’ve delivered the item. I have other matters to attend to. Feel free to leave, and contact me if you have any issues,” Fang Huaiyue said, the last part directed at Old Wang, who nodded. “Don’t worry, Special Assistant Fang. I’ll reach out if needed.”
Fang Huaiyue nodded and left with his assistant.
As soon as they were gone, Song Kewen pounced, pinching Xie Xiaobao’s cheeks with a nosy grin. “What’s going on?”
Xie Xiaobao, still a naive little angel, stared wide-eyed. “What do you mean?”
Song Kewen’s face twisted. “President He’s sending you gifts in person, and you’re playing dumb?”
Xie Xiaobao let out an “oh,” swatted his hand away, and pulled the box from his backpack. Opening the elegant packaging, he found a box of chocolates.
He turned it over, then lit up. “It’s that brand I couldn’t get before! I heard their chocolates are amazing.”
Popping open the box, he saw six coin-sized chocolates. He popped one in his mouth, and it melted instantly. Savoring it, he squinted happily and offered the box to Song Kewen, cheeks puffing. “It’s good! Try some. I couldn’t even get these through a buyer.”
Song Kewen stared at him like he was a clueless kid. “A box of chocolates, and you’re sold?!”
Old Wang smacked Song Kewen’s back, grabbed a chocolate, and ate it, shooting him a look. “You talk too much.”
Song Kewen glared at them, feeling like the odd one out for making a fuss. Seeing only two chocolates left, he quickly snatched one and stuffed it in his mouth.
After splitting the chocolates, the trio left the company and grabbed dinner together before parting ways.
Xie Xiaobao, belly full and mood soaring, bounced along with cheerful steps.
Back home, he showered, washed his fur, blew it dry until fluffy, and grabbed his streaming bow tie before heading to the study.
Transforming back to human form, Xie Xiaobao opened his computer, posted a livestream link on Weibo, and watched the viewer count climb. He put on his headset, cleared his throat, and said, “Good evening, everyone! We meet again. I’m your host, Xiaobao…”
The screen filled with a wave of “Good evening, Bao!” comments. Xie Xiaobao smiled, dimples showing, and continued, “But… today’s star is Orange Bao.”
[*AHHH my precious big baby is finally here!!*]
[*Ten days and three hours since my lord went missing. I missed him.*]
[*I’m gonna spam Orange Bao’s hotline, and no one can stop me!!*]
The chat exploded, gift effects flashing across the screen. Xie Xiaobao turned off the gift animations, thanked everyone, started the background music, and stepped out.
The chat went wild with excitement, but the camera showed an empty scene.
The study door cracked open. Xie Xiaobao, now a cat with a black bow tie around his neck, peeked in, checked himself, and sauntered in with graceful steps.
On the screen, a chubby orange cat strolled to the center of the frame.
The cat tilted its head slightly, golden eyes wide and round, staring at the camera. Its triangular ears, small compared to its round head, were a mix of quirks—one flattened, one upright, twitching lightly.
[*Critical hit right at the start! I’m gonna faint from the cuteness…*]
[*OMG, I wanna bury my face in Orange Bao’s belly. It looks even chubbier!*]
Xie Xiaobao’s paw froze mid-step as he read the rapid-fire comments. He sucked in his belly, eyed the computer chair’s height, and decided to prove he wasn’t fat—just a nimble, spry cat.
Backing up a few steps, he crouched, gathered his strength, and leaped with a powerful push… landing precariously on the chair’s edge.
Half his body dangled off, front paws frantically gripping the edge as he kicked his short legs, trying to haul himself up.
His round belly and stubby legs betrayed him, failing to reach the chair’s edge despite his efforts.
The audience went silent, stunned, before the screen erupted in *hahahaha*.
Xie Xiaobao, back to the camera, kept struggling to climb, inching forward bit by bit until he finally scrambled onto the chair.
He sat, meticulously grooming his ruffled fur and straightening his crooked bow tie, pretending nothing had happened.
Then he turned around—and his smile froze.
The screen was still flooded with *hahaha*, sprinkled with comments like, “Bao, you gotta put your lord on a diet, he’s looking chubby!”
Xie Xiaobao’s eyes widened in disbelief, ears flattening as his face screamed, *Cat’s been hurt! Cat’s very sad!*
He Yu, watching from his computer, couldn’t hold back a smile. He moved his mouse and sent another ten yacht gifts.
The gift notification flashed. Xie Xiaobao scooted closer, stretching his neck to see the donor—a new fan with the ID “BaoBaoNotFat.” He meowed softly twice in thanks and began the stream.
Fans didn’t expect much from a cat stream, but Xie Xiaobao was a dedicated host, even in cat form, striving to be an exceptional kitty broadcaster.
He stood, carefully circling the chair’s backrest, cautious after his earlier mishap. Ears forward, fluffy tail swaying for balance, he moved with deliberate grace.
After a full lap, he jumped to the desk, retrieved a small embroidered ball prop, and carried it back to the chair.
Shaking the ball, its bell jingled crisply. Xie Xiaobao lay on his side, meowed, then rolled onto his back, balancing the ball with all four paws and spinning it slowly.
Once he got the hang of it, he sped up, the colorful ball twirling above his furry belly, bells ringing brightly.
He Yu sat up, surprised, watching the orange cat spin the ball with focus, eyes locked on it, unwavering—cat mirroring host in dedication.
The chat exploded again. Orange Bao’s streams always brought surprises.
[*Orange Bao’s gotta be a spirit, right? Shocked.jpg*]
[*Definitely a spirit +1*]
[*Spirit + ID number!*]
Xie Xiaobao, mentally tracking time while spinning, stopped when it felt right, hugging the ball and rolling over.
After spinning so long, he needed a break.
Catching his breath, he sat up, set the ball aside, and returned to the chair.
This time, he didn’t plan more tricks. After a sip of water to soothe his throat, Xie Xiaobao started meowing a song.
Yes—singing.
One long meow, three short ones, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes soft, sometimes lively… Xie Xiaobao swayed his tail, producing a variety of meows from his throat.
The fans weren’t too shocked this time. Orange Bao always ended with a meow song, each one unique, and they’d grown used to it.
After finishing his meow melody, the stream was nearly over. Xie Xiaobao stood on his hind legs, clasped his front paws in a bow, then hopped down, tail swishing, and slipped out through the door crack.
Outside, he transformed back to human form, reentered, and cleared his throat—singing had left it a bit dry.
“That’s it for today’s stream. See you all next time.”
Xie Xiaobao waved with a bright smile and logged off.
As the camera shut off, he couldn’t hold it together anymore. Grabbing the water cup, he gulped down several big sips, then slumped back in the chair, too tired to move.
Streaming was exhausting for a cat.