The Contract Marriage with My Childhood Sweetheart

Jing Mian is a faceless gaming streamer. Even after joining a club, audiences only glimpse the player sitting in the corner during matches—hoodie up, cold-pale complexion, fluid and seamless gameplay, with warm almond eyes veiled behind a dark mask, glimmering faintly. Until a livestream mishap reveals Jing Mian eating instant noodles at home. That night, the chat explodes. “IRL?! What kind of god-tier face is this?!” “He could coast on looks but insists on becoming world champion through skill??” “The way he quietly eats noodles… my maternal heart is melting…” “How can someone be this adorable?!” ... Seconds later, the sound of a door unlocking echoes through the stream. The chat falls silent. The young man on-screen freezes, flustered—but too late. He locks eyes with the newcomer. “Mianmian.” A deep, cool voice cuts through the mic. After a brief pause, the man adds tersely, “I told you not to eat instant noodles alone at home.” Jing Mian stammers, “You’re back early…” Before he finishes, he’s lifted away by a tall figure, vanishing from view. Netizens: ?!!! * Jing Mian, ever the top student and paragon of obedience, secretly becomes a gaming streamer, amassing fans through pure skill and voice alone. When his family arranges his engagement to a man, he feels little surprise—even quiet anticipation. After all, his fiancé is his childhood sweetheart: a gentle, fair-skinned boy from his memories, the epitome of a kind, soft-spoken neighbor. Until the day they reunite. Jing Mian looks up at the towering, coldly mature man before him, whose aura alone feels like an ice storm. “......” Stunned, Jing Mian’s ears burn red. The man gazes down, voice low and unhurried: “Still a kid.” Relieved, Jing Mian exhales softly. ...Good. It seems the other isn’t interested either. Then the man slips a ring on his finger, signs their marriage certificate, and hangs their wedding photo in his study— On their wedding night, fans wait in vain. Always punctual, Jing Mian misses his stream for the first time. ...Legs trembling, Jing Mian realizes something’s gone terribly wrong. Didn’t he complain about his immaturity? “Seems you’ve grown up now.” A magnetic voice pulls him back. Jing Mian: “?” The man’s thumb brushes his tear-stained eyelid, expression still cold. “You’ve stopped calling me ‘brother.’”