Chapter 4

The young man sat down beside me, his face cold. “I obey the law. I don’t kill humans. Marry me back home, and we’ll call it atonement.”

I was puzzled. “It’s just pressure to marry. Can’t you humor them? Why actually get married?”

He gave a humorless laugh. “I’m five hundred this year. If I don’t marry, the elders will make me mate with a whole bunch of vixens. A whole bunch!”

I was stunned. “Wouldn’t that make you a stud… Ahem. The communal, uh… Don’t hit me!”

The Fox King ground his teeth. “They say I have good genes. If I won’t get a wife and have cubs myself, they’ll have the clan’s vixens bear them for me!”

That made even less sense. “But I can’t have cubs either! Never mind the species barrier. I’ve got the wrong sex!”

“That’s why I’m using you to tide me over! They said they supported my right to choose who I love. Let’s get through this year, then deal with whatever comes next.”

I had no answer.

Was he setting traps for both sides here?

And so the Fox King latched onto me.

He said he had a human identity. He was an influencer called Xue Hu.

Xue Hu. Xuehu: snow fox.

He really couldn’t be bothered to come up with a name.

I searched “Xue Hu” on a short-video app. A silver-haired profile picture wearing a mask appeared: a good-looks influencer with twelve million followers.

My hand shook. “Fuck. A huge influencer like you could marry anyone. Why single me out?”

“I don’t have a grudge against them,” he said leisurely.

“…”

I could now appreciate just how hazardous the job of Fox Queen was.

He was actually using it to punish me.

Vicious.

Xue Hu commandeered my bed. I slept badly all night and went to work with two enormous dark circles.

A colleague, also sporting dark circles, came over. “Jiang Song, have you heard? The project team next door got laid off. All of them. Three months’ pay as compensation.”

I was shocked. “They didn’t keep anyone?”

He nodded. “Our game’s closed-beta results weren’t great. Word is, if launch revenue doesn’t meet expectations before the holidays, part of our team will be laid off afterward too.”

I fell silent.

Couldn’t I get one piece of good news?

The games industry was a tough place to work these days. AI had caused widespread unemployment among concept artists. It wasn’t unusual for an entire team to get axed halfway through a project, before producing anything at all.

When the promotional video for our martial-arts mystery puzzle game came out, people praised the visuals and character art. That meant I, the lead artist, could probably survive until the New Year. But the story got called a pile of shit. Who knew how many downloads or daily active players we’d get after launch?

My colleague swore again. “A puzzle game that doesn’t bother designing decent puzzles, but uses pretty characters to attract female players instead. It’s all riding on our art. Why not just make a dating-simulation game for women?”

There was no point talking. All we could do was pray the project would make a decent showing at launch.

The marketing and operations teams were already getting torn to shreds.

After a busy day, I was working overtime until ten as usual when the receptionist came upstairs in person. “Is Jiang Song here?”

I poked my head out. “Here. What’s up?”

She waggled her brows at me. “Someone downstairs wants to know when you’re getting off work.”

“Who?”

She paused, cleared her throat, and said, “He says he’s your boyfriend.”

In one second, the whole office erupted.

“Who’s what? Jiang Song’s… boyfriend?”

“Damn, Jiang! You’ve been keeping secrets!”

Before I could stop them, a crowd had already sprinted out to look.

I couldn’t even squeeze into the elevator. I had to run down the stairs like a dog.

Ten fucking floors! I was going to die of breathlessness!

But once those gossip-hungry colleagues reached the lobby, they didn’t dare approach. They huddled together, staring at the sofa.

Xue Hu wore a black short-sleeved T-shirt, cargo pants, and sneakers, without a single accessory. Only his silver hair stood out. Mask on, he leaned against the sofa, playing on his phone. His legs were so long he had nowhere to put them except crossed one over the other. His lashes completely hid his eyes, and still there was no concealing his beauty.

I’d already spotted at least eight people sneaking photos.

People were posting them in the chat:

“Holy shit! Jiang’s boyfriend is so fucking hot! What kind of god-tier hottie is this? [Photo] ×3”

“Hey, wrong group. This is the company-wide chat.”

“…”

“Message deleted. I want to die.”

I was the one dying of embarrassment!