My Vampire Boyfriend

Chapter 17: Going Against the Tide

A new day, a new beginning!

His Highness the Warlord eagerly began his livestream. To attract an audience, he played while offering live commentary—demonstrating skill releases and clever evasive maneuvers, explaining each technique with great effort.

Two hours later, his lips dry from constant talking, the Warlord stared furiously at the grim sight of zero viewers in his stream.

“Damn humans—utterly worthless.”

Lucien tore off his headset in irritation, ready to take it out on Ethan, only to remember that Ethan had gone to work—promising to buy him a new keyboard in a few days, no exchange required.

After a brief hesitation, Lucien decided to spare him and kept streaming.

An hour later, his defenses finally crumbled like an avalanche. He could bear it no longer and wanted to call Ethan to vent his frustration. But he didn’t know where Ethan worked. As his anger spiked, his gaze landed on the phone lying on the bed.

Several kilometers away, in a corporate office tower, Ethan sat quietly at his desk, reading documents and code to familiarize himself with the company’s product and business model.

It was an Internet tech company focused on online healthcare. As a computer science intern, Ethan wasn’t yet involved in any projects—essentially just doing odd tasks for an internship certificate.

That suited him fine. He preferred minimal social interaction, and his coworkers were too busy to chat anyway. The office was silent and lifeless; Ethan blended in seamlessly on his first day—until his phone suddenly rang.

Seeing the caller ID—the stupid ghost—Ethan was both surprised and not. He immediately hung up, intending to reply via WeChat. But a few seconds later, the phone rang again.

“Go ahead and take it, Ethan, it’s fine,” said his team leader, Wang Yuanshan, a kind and easygoing man.

Ethan nodded, stepped out of the office, and headed for the emergency stairwell.

The moment he put the phone to his ear, Lucien’s booming voice exploded through the receiver.

“Ethan! Get back here right now! I’m furious—you tricked me again!”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. Just last night, before being drained, he’d painstakingly taught Lucien how to use WeChat voice messages so he wouldn’t call during work hours. The i***t had already forgotten.

“I’m still at work,” he said calmly. “And how exactly did I trick you?”

“You said if I kept streaming, people would come watch. That was a lie! No one’s watching! My gaming skills are incredible, yet those damned humans don’t stay—they leave the moment they enter!”

Ethan heard the grievance beneath the anger and couldn’t help recalling yesterday: Lucien had streamed the entire afternoon, throwing fits more than once, and Ethan had barely managed to coax him through it.

Suppressing the urge to scold, he softened his tone. “Lucien, not everything humans do is easy. Take persistence, for example. Quitting after one or two days is just a fleeting enthusiasm—it means you’re not suited for streaming. Those streamers you mocked didn’t start with audiences either.”

There was silence on the other end, but Ethan could already picture Lucien’s puffed cheeks and flaring nostrils—the telltale signs of his temper—followed by an indignant snort.

“Hmph! Persistence isn’t hard. I’ll show you! My stream will have viewers soon enough. I’m hanging up—I’m going live again.”

The line went dead almost instantly. Ethan stared at the screen. That was the first phone call Lucien had ever made to him.

He opened WeChat and sent a voice message instead—easier for Lucien to handle.

“Humans have to work and study. They don’t have time to stay online all day. Persistence doesn’t mean streaming nonstop. Don’t exhaust yourself. I finish work at five-thirty—start at six. More people are online then, you’ll get viewers.”

Lucien tossed the phone aside after listening, eyes blazing with renewed determination. He would defy his human blood donor and keep streaming!

Ethan, meanwhile, didn’t need to work overtime. After clocking out, he rode his bike back toward the apartment. The cold wind bit at his ears, clearing his mind. The phrase eager to return home flashed across his thoughts—but as soon as the apartment building came into view, he braked and turned instead toward the supermarket.

By the time he left the store, it was past six. His phone buzzed—Ryan was calling. His friend groaned about his exhausting new job at the newspaper, running errands wherever needed like a glorified assistant.

Then he mentioned his roommate Liu Xiao—how they hadn’t seen each other since climbing Westspring Mountain, and how Liu had landed a job at a major media firm with far better pay. After venting, Ryan asked about Ethan’s future plans.

Ethan replied with four simple words: “Inherit the family business.”

“Damn rich people,” Ryan cursed, then laughed. “Wait—what about your parrot? Didn’t you move?”

“It’s with me,” Ethan replied.

“Nice. Take good care of it. Things are peaceful in West City now—no murder cases lately. I’m off to grab dinner. Talk later.”

When Ethan finally reached his apartment, it was already seven.

The moment he opened the door, a strange voice greeted him—“Baby!”

From the entryway, the open layout gave a clear view of Lucien cross-legged at the computer, enthusiastically courting viewers.

“Welcome, baby, to the stream! Hey—don’t go! I’m really good at this game, watch me!”

Ethan blinked. He hadn’t expected Lucien to imitate other streamers’ sugary tone just to please humans.

When yet another passerby fled the stream, Lucien slammed the keyboard. “Stupid humans! Would it kill you to watch for five minutes? It’s an honor to see me play!”

Ethan sighed. He’d worried Lucien would be angry at him for coming home late—clearly, that was unnecessary.

He shut the door, changed shoes, and set down his groceries. Seeing Lucien start another match, he went to the bathroom, put on his earbuds, opened the streaming app, searched Warlord His Highness, and entered the stream.

“Welcome, baby! Don’t go—watch me play!”

Ethan winced. The syrupy address made his skin crawl. Still, he remained silently in the chat, the only viewer online.

At his desk, Lucien froze in shock. The new viewer hadn’t left. Distracted by excitement, he made a small mistake in-game and rushed to explain: “Ah, that was lag—not my skill! Baby, don’t leave! The Warlord always wins—if you like it, hit follow!”

Ding! User “Keeper of the Dumb Ghost” has followed you.

Lucien’s eyes widened. His first follower! No wonder other streamers called their viewers “baby”—it worked!

Humans were so easy to manipulate.

Imitating the tone of male streamers he’d studied, Lucien gushed, “Thank you, baby, for the follow! What hero do you want to see? Any skin you like? The Warlord can play them all!”

Ethan, hidden in the bathroom: “…”

“Baby, you can join my fan group too—ah, wait, I don’t have one yet! Hold on, I’ll make one tonight. You can join tomorrow!”

Listening to him call “baby” over and over, Ethan felt as though he were meeting an entirely new Lucien. Watching him dominate match after match, explaining every move with earnest focus, Ethan felt a strange pang of tenderness.

This foolish ghost, so proud and vain—after two days of streaming without a single viewer, he’d been crushed enough to lash out at him. Yet here he was, trying so hard to earn human approval.

A comment popped up: You play so well! I’m terrible—could you teach me more?

“Of course, baby! Don’t leave my stream,” Lucien replied, thrilled.

When the match ended, the screen suddenly filled with dazzling effects—a luxury sports car animation zoomed by, one of the platform’s most expensive gifts.

“Thank you, baby, for the sports car!”

And thus, the Keeper of the Dumb Ghost became the Warlord’s top supporter.

Ethan stayed quietly in the bathroom, occasionally sending brief compliments—not too often, but enough. Even when Lucien lost, he offered encouragement instead of criticism. Eventually, they agreed that Ethan would watch every night, which made Lucien so happy he called him “baby” repeatedly.

By nine-thirty, the stream ended. Ethan exited the app and ordered takeout. Before he could leave the bathroom, someone pounded on the door.

“Ethan! Open up! I have a fan now! Help me make a fan group—I need to invite my baby! You’d better stop looking down on me. My fans are going to multiply!”

Ethan opened the door to find Lucien grinning triumphantly, sharp little fangs showing, pride written all over his face—adorable, really.

“He sent me a sports car! Do you know how expensive that is? Hardly any streamers get one! He even said I’m amazing—well, he’s right, I am amazing.”

Ethan kept a straight face. “Impressive. You’re making money.”

The sense of accomplishment was intoxicating. Lucien’s tail might as well have been wagging. Handing Ethan the phone, he sniffed suddenly, nose twitching like a curious puppy as he leaned close.

Ethan flinched back. Sharing a bed with Lucien every night was already taxing—this proximity made it worse. “What are you sniffing for?”

“You smell... off,” Lucien said with a frown. “I don’t like it. Who told you to go work outside? From now on, shower before you come near me.”

Ethan sniffed his own shirt. Nothing smelled strange. “What kind of smell?” he asked, but Lucien couldn’t describe it—just kept urging him toward the shower.

“Hurry up! Don’t come to bed if you’re not clean. Wash, then help me make the group. I’m getting sleepy.”

“…Fine.”

Ethan sighed inwardly. Vampires were sensitive to scent—after interacting with so many people, he must have picked up traces Lucien disliked.

He showered obediently. Only then did Lucien relax enough to nestle close again, pressing for help with the fan group before demanding his nightly blood. Moments later, he was fast asleep on Ethan’s chest.

That was how Ethan had endured these past few nights—half resisting, half surrendering.

He couldn’t stop himself from brushing a hand over the sleeping vampire’s hair. When Lucien was completely still, Ethan rose quietly and slipped back into the bathroom.

The shower had been for nothing.