Surviving the apocalypse with a wife and a system! [GL]

Chapter 80: Last Extra Chapter! [Enjoy!] - Their daily life in thailand as a youtube vlogger.

Bangkok had a way of making mornings feel like they were already halfway into the day. By the time the sun was properly up, the city was humming like it had somewhere important to be, motorbikes weaving through traffic, vendors calling out from street corners, the smell of grilled pork, sweet coffee, and hot pavement mixing together in the air. Inside a tall, quiet condo with floor to ceiling windows and a view over the city that looked like a living postcard, Bai Li was already awake, sitting cross legged on the sofa in silk shorts and an oversized white shirt, one hand wrapped around a mug of coffee, the other hand holding her phone while she scrolled through market numbers like the world had not even started yet and she had already made three decisions and one million baht. She had that rare kind of rich person calm, the kind that did not come from being lazy, but from being so used to controlling everything that even her coffee looked like it had signed a contract. Across the room, Yan Cijin was still half asleep and completely unbothered by that level of discipline. She was sprawled on the bed with the blanket tangled around her legs, her dark hair a mess on the pillow, one arm thrown over her face as if she had been fighting the morning and lost on purpose. The condo was full of their little shared things, camera gear stacked near the wall, a ring light leaned beside a plant that Bai Li had bought because she once said the apartment looked too serious, clothes draped over the back of a chair, a mug that said ”World’s Cutest Wife” sitting next to another mug that Bai Li claimed was hers but had somehow become Yan Cijin’s favorite. The whole place looked expensive, lived in, and just a little bit chaotic in the way a happy home usually does.

Bai Li glanced over at the bed and smiled to herself. ”Cijin,” she said in a soft voice that still somehow sounded like a command. ”If you keep sleeping like that, our audience is going to assume I married a ghost.”

Yan Cijin made a dramatic noise from under the blanket. ”Then let them assume it. Ghosts do not have to answer emails.”

”You do not answer emails even when you are awake.”

”That is because I respect my peace.”

”You respect your peace, your pillow, and the concept of not getting out of bed until you are bribed.”

The blanket moved a little, and Yan Cijin slowly lowered it just enough to show one eye. ”Bribery is a love language.”

Bai Li’s mouth twitched. ”I know. That is why I made pancakes.”

That worked instantly. Yan Cijin sat up so fast her hair fell into her face and she looked like a very pretty, very sleepy cat who had just heard a can opener. ”You made pancakes?”

”I made one pancake.”

”One pancake is a promise, Li.”

”It is also all the kitchen deserves when you are involved. Last time you tried to help, you put salt in the sugar jar and sugar in the coffee jar.”

Yan Cijin pushed herself upright, still wrapped in the blanket, and pointed at Bai Li with deep, fake seriousness. ”That was character development. The audience loved it.”

”They loved it because I had to drink your salty coffee while smiling at the camera like our marriage was not a crime scene.”

Yan Cijin laughed, her voice still rough with sleep, and climbed out of bed in that shameless way only a person with complete domestic confidence can do. She crossed the room barefoot, stopped in front of Bai Li, and leaned down to kiss the top of her head first, then her forehead, then finally her lips, slow and warm and familiar enough that neither of them needed to say anything else. Bai Li set her coffee down for half a second, put a hand on Yan Cijin’s waist, and deepened the kiss just enough to make it obvious that she was awake now. The sunlight hit the glass behind them, the city glowing in the background, and for a moment the world felt very quiet, very private, like it had stepped back to give them a second alone.

Then Yan Cijin pulled away and grinned. ”Okay. Pancakes first. Wife kisses after.”

Bai Li arched one brow. ”That is not how the schedule works.”

”It is now. I am the talent. I set terms.”

”You are not the talent. You are the chaos.”

”That is still a kind of talent.”

Bai Li stood and adjusted the collar of Yan Cijin’s shirt, a habit she had picked up without even noticing. ”Go wash your face before you start looking at me like that on camera. People will think I starve you.”

Yan Cijin clasped a hand over her chest. ”You do. Emotionally. With your spreadsheets.”

”You married the spreadsheets.”

”I married the woman attached to the spreadsheets.”

”Same thing.”

”Terrible answer.”

”Accurate answer.”

They moved into the kitchen together, and the morning shifted into the easy rhythm that had become their life. Bai Li was precise in the kitchen the way she was precise in business, moving with neat efficiency, measuring ingredients like she was signing contracts, turning on the stove with the same confidence she used in meetings. Yan Cijin, meanwhile, floated around the kitchen doing absolutely nothing useful and making comments like a live commentary track. She leaned on the counter, watched Bai Li pour batter into the pan, and said, ”You know, this is actually one of your most attractive traits.”

Bai Li did not look up. ”My business instincts?”

”Your ability to make breakfast while pretending not to enjoy my attention.”

”You think too highly of yourself.”

”Oh no, I am just correctly informed.” Yan Cijin stepped closer and rested her chin on Bai Li’s shoulder, peeking at the pan. ”Also, you are making pancakes with tiny hearts. Who are you trying to fool?”

Bai Li turned her head a little. ”I do not know what you are talking about.”

”You literally used the squeeze bottle to make a heart shape.”

”It was an accident.”

”It was a very romantic accident.”

”I hope you are grateful.”

Yan Cijin kissed the side of her neck, just once, light enough to be teasing. ”I am so grateful I might cry. Or propose again. We are already married, but I feel like that would still make sense.”

Bai Li finally glanced at her, one corner of her mouth lifting. ”You already proposed six times.”

”I was excited.”

”You proposed in the rain.”

”Romantic.”

”You proposed in front of a convenience store.”

”Very accessible romance.”

”You proposed while wearing bunny slippers.”

”Those were lucky slippers.”

Bai Li shook her head, laughing now despite herself. ”You are impossible.”

”And yet,” Yan Cijin said, pointing to herself proudly, ”you selected me.”

”Yes, and now I suffer.”

”That is your story. I am the reward.”

Bai Li slid the pancake onto a plate and placed it in front of her wife. ”Then reward yourself. But if you drop syrup on the couch again, you are sleeping in the office chair.”

Yan Cijin took a first bite and closed her eyes like she had just discovered peace on earth. ”Oh wow. This is suspiciously good.”

”Of course it is. I am an expert.”

”You are bragging again.”

”I am correct again.”

Yan Cijin chewed, nodded, and then said with complete sincerity, ”This is dangerous. One day you are going to become too good at domestic life and I will be forced to write a song about it.”

Bai Li gave her a look. ”You do not write songs.”

”I write captions. Same spirit.”

That was how their mornings usually went. Bai Li handled the practical world with a cool head and sharp timing. Yan Cijin moved through the emotional world like a spark that could turn any ordinary moment into content, laughter, or a little bit of trouble. They had been married for three years, but the rhythm of their life still felt lively, still a little surprising, as if they were constantly discovering new ways to be married without getting boring. Their couple vlog channel had millions of subscribers by now, and fans across Thailand, China, and all over the world loved them for the same reason they loved each other. Bai Li was elegant and calm, the kind of woman who could look at a messy problem and solve it with one sentence. Yan Cijin was bright, funny, and shameless in the most charming way. Together they were the sort of couple people watched to feel better about love, money, marriage, and the possibility that one person could be extremely organized while the other one remained professionally unserious.

By the time they had finished breakfast, they were already setting up cameras in the living room. Yan Cijin clipped on her microphone while Bai Li checked the tripod angle. Their filming days were never fully planned, because half the fun was letting the day unfold and letting their viewers come along for the ride. Yan Cijin pressed the record button, flashed a bright smile at the lens, and spoke in the voice she used for opening vlogs, cheerful and smooth but still sounding like herself. ”Good morning, everybody. Welcome back to our channel. Today we are doing a very normal married day, which means Bai Li will act like a CEO, I will act like a golden retriever, and somehow we will still end up eating too much and spending too much.”

Bai Li, standing just out of frame, muttered, ”That is not an intro, that is a confession.”

Yan Cijin turned toward her. ”That is called transparency, baby.”

”You are using ’baby’ to distract from the fact that you bought twelve candles last week because one smelled like honey and you trusted your instincts.”

”It did smell like destiny.”

”It smelled like discounted bees.”

Yan Cijin laughed so hard she had to lean against the couch. ”See? This is why people watch us. I bring the romance, you bring the sabotage.”

Bai Li stepped into frame and looked straight into the camera with the flat, elegant expression that always made viewers explode in comments. ”She is lying. I bring the bills.”

Yan Cijin gasped and clutched her chest. ”Wow. She said that with her whole heart.”

”I said it because it is true.”

”Fine. But I bring the charm.”

”You bring the noise.”

”The noise is why you love me.”

Bai Li looked at her wife, and even with the camera rolling there was that tiny softness in her eyes that always slipped through when she looked at Yan Cijin. ”Unfortunately, yes.”

”Unfortunately?”

Bai Li reached out, caught Yan Cijin lightly by the waist, and pulled her a little closer. ”Very unfortunately.”

Yan Cijin beamed like she had just won a prize. ”Okay, clip that. That one is going in the edit.”

The first segment of the vlog was simple, a morning routine at home, but the chemistry between them made even normal things entertaining. Bai Li showed their kitchen setup, the pantry that looked more like a boutique grocery store, the little shelf of tea that Yan Cijin insisted on arranging by mood instead of flavor. Yan Cijin complained that Bai Li had organized their spice rack alphabetically, which she claimed was not romantic enough, while Bai Li argued that romance did not improve paprika placement. They filmed themselves choosing outfits for the day, and Yan Cijin spun in front of the mirror in a soft cream dress, then turned dramatically to Bai Li and asked, ”Be honest. Do I look like I could be trusted around expensive things?”

Bai Li, who was putting on a watch, glanced up and said, ”You look like you would put your hand in a fountain just to see if there are coins.”

”There might be wishes.”

”There might be security.”

Yan Cijin stepped closer and tugged lightly on the sleeve of Bai Li’s shirt. ”You are wearing that black blazer again. You know that outfit makes people stare.”

Bai Li’s expression barely changed. ”People stare when you are next to me. I have accepted this.”

Yan Cijin tilted her head. ”Jealous?”

”No.”

”Liar.”

Bai Li leaned in a little, her voice lowering. ”You are the one who married me.”

Yan Cijin smiled in that slow, pleased way that made her whole face soften. ”Yes. And I would do it again. Probably in better shoes, though.”

They headed out late morning, the condo door closing behind them with that quiet, expensive click that always reminded Yan Cijin she was married to a woman who could probably buy the entire building if she got bored enough. They took the car into the city, with their driver dropping them off near a shopping district where modern glass malls stood right next to street stalls and small shops, the whole area alive with families, tourists, workers on lunch break, and fans who occasionally spotted them from a distance and froze like they had just seen a celebrity sighting and a miracle at the same time.

The first few minutes were peaceful. Bai Li walked with one hand in her pocket, the other occasionally touching Yan Cijin’s back when the crowd got dense. Yan Cijin filmed little snippets on her phone, narrating the scene with mock seriousness. ”Okay, everyone, we are out in the wild. Bai Li has agreed to enter public territory. Please pray for the civilians.”

Bai Li looked sideways at her. ”You are going to regret speaking like that when I choose your lunch.”

”You would not.”

”I absolutely would.”

They started in a luxury mall because Bai Li had a meeting later and because Yan Cijin had seen a boutique display online the previous night and now had the dangerous energy of someone who had already mentally purchased three things before even seeing them in person. They went from store to store, Bai Li calmly comparing prices and fabrics, Yan Cijin drifting from rack to rack like she was in a very stylish dream. At one point she held up a pair of sunglasses the size of a tiny windshield and asked, ”Do these make me look mysterious or like I am about to start a band in 2009?”

Bai Li took the sunglasses from her, examined them for a second, and handed them back. ”Both.”

”That is not fair.”

”That is honest.”

They tried on matching hats in a hat shop, and Yan Cijin, seeing Bai Li in a beige sunhat with a black ribbon, nearly fell over from laughter. ”You look like an extremely rich auntie who collects orchids and knows everyone’s secrets.”

Bai Li, deadpan, looked at her own reflection. ”And you look like a tourist who gets lost and somehow becomes a local legend.”

Yan Cijin pointed at her. ”That is a compliment and I will remember it.”

”You should. It is probably the best description you have ever received.”

Their camera captured everything, from the way Bai Li quietly paid for Yan Cijin’s favorite fruit tea without saying a word, to the way Yan Cijin tried on a jacket she swore made her look powerful but ended up making her look like a tiny angry professor. Bai Li saw her own reflection in the mirror, then saw Yan Cijin puffing her cheeks and narrowing her eyes, and she lost control for a second, laughing into her hand. ”You look like you are about to fire someone.”

”I am building a persona.”

”You are building confusion.”

While they were still inside the store, the first fan recognition happened. It was a girl, probably in her late teens, who had been standing near the accessory section pretending not to stare until she finally gathered enough courage to walk over. ”Excuse me,” she said, nervous but excited, ”are you Bai Li and Yan Cijin?”

Yan Cijin’s face lit up instantly. She put a hand to her chest in an exaggerated gasp. ”No. We are your intrusive thoughts.”

The girl laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. Bai Li gave Yan Cijin a look, then turned to the fan with a polite smile. ”Yes, hello.”

The girl practically vibrated with happiness. ”I love your videos. Can I please take a photo with you?”

”Of course,” Bai Li said.

”Of course,” Yan Cijin echoed, leaning in. ”But only if you promise not to make me look short on purpose.”

The girl grinned and took the photo with them, then asked if they could also sign her phone case. Bai Li signed neatly, Yan Cijin added a tiny heart and a doodle that looked suspiciously like a potato. The fan thanked them so many times it became a whole little spiral of gratitude, and then she left still smiling, covering her mouth like she could not believe what had just happened.

Once she was gone, Yan Cijin looked up at Bai Li and whispered, ”I still think I am more excited when fans know you. Like, hello, yes, that woman is my wife, and yes, she is better in real life than on screen, no, I will not accept criticism.”

Bai Li raised an eyebrow. ”You are loud when you are proud.”

”I am always loud when I am proud.”

”You are loud when you are sleepy too.”

”That is a different issue.”

By lunchtime, they had drifted out of the mall and into a quieter street lined with food stalls and cafés. The city heat wrapped around them, but the rhythm of Bangkok made the warmth feel less like a burden and more like part of the day’s mood. They chose a small café tucked behind a row of trees, with outdoor seating and pale wooden tables that made the place look softer than the street outside. Yan Cijin immediately ordered too many things, which Bai Li pretended to object to while already knowing she would eat half of them. When their food came, Yan Cijin filmed a taste test clip, dramatically describing the noodles as ”life changing” and the iced dessert as ”the sort of thing that could end arguments in a marriage.”

Bai Li tried the dessert and said, ”It is fine.”

Yan Cijin stared at her. ”Fine? Bai Li, are we even eating the same food?”

”Yes. You are just emotionally easy to impress.”

”That is slander.”

”It is observation.”

”You are impossible.”

”You already said that this morning.”

”Then let me say it again with feeling.”

Across the table, Bai Li laughed quietly, the kind of laugh that was rare enough to make Yan Cijin stop and stare for a second every time she heard it. Yan Cijin loved that laugh. She loved the way Bai Li usually moved through life with such control, then lost that control in small private moments, like when she was amused or sleepy or being kissed on the cheek at a random time. Those were the moments Yan Cijin collected in her mind like treasures.

After lunch, they took a walk through a nearby market, where the stalls were crowded with handmade jewelry, bags, clothes, tiny plants, and enough trinkets to make Yan Cijin declare at least five objects ”absolutely necessary” before Bai Li dragged her gently away from three of them. She ended up buying a keychain shaped like a tiny cat in sunglasses, because Yan Cijin said it looked like ”a younger version of my soul.” Bai Li bought a watch strap she did not need because Yan Cijin held it against her wrist and said the color looked good on her. Yan Cijin also tried on a ridiculous pair of pants that looked very fashionable on the hanger and very confusing on her body, and Bai Li, after one long look, said with complete sincerity, ”You look like a luxury tomato.”

Yan Cijin froze. Then she bent over laughing, clutching the changing room curtain. ”A luxury tomato?”

”Rich color, expensive fabric, questionable shape.”

”That is criminal. That is art criticism. That is emotional violence.”

”You asked for my opinion.”

”I asked for encouragement.”

”You got honesty.”

”You got to sleep next to me tonight, so maybe do not push your luck.”

Bai Li stepped closer, lowered her voice, and said in a way that made Yan Cijin’s ears heat instantly, ”I always sleep next to you.”

That shifted the mood in one clean second. Yan Cijin blinked, then looked away with a grin she was trying very hard to hide. ”See, this is why your voice should be taxed.”

”It already is, by you.”

They left the market carrying bags and iced drinks and the kind of random little purchases that make a day feel complete. Their fans noticed them again on the street outside, and this time there were more of them, maybe because somebody had posted a sighting online, maybe because famous people in Thailand had a way of attracting each other and everyone else in a radius. People approached carefully, politely, most with phones in hand and hopeful smiles. Bai Li and Yan Cijin never acted annoyed. That was one of the reasons people loved them so much. Even though they were busy and often tired, they always made room for people who were kind. Yan Cijin waved like a local celebrity who knew exactly how to turn public attention into warmth rather than tension. Bai Li stayed calm and composed, but she always softened around fans, offering photos, little conversations, and the occasional deadpan line that would make everyone laugh.

One man, probably in his twenties, asked Yan Cijin if she really cooked at home or if Bai Li did all of it. Yan Cijin answered without hesitation, ”I can cook. I choose not to because my wife would get suspicious if I acted too normal.”

Bai Li, standing beside her, added, ”She has enough hobbies. Cooking is not one of them.”

Another girl asked Bai Li how she stayed so patient with Yan Cijin. Bai Li glanced at her wife, who was busy smiling at someone else and adjusting the strap of her bag, and said, ”I am not patient. I am in love. It is different.”

That answer made the girl squeal, and Yan Cijin, who had overheard just enough, turned around with a scandalized face. ”Excuse me? You cannot just say things like that in public.”

Bai Li looked unbothered. ”Why not?”

”Because I have to pretend to be cool.”

”You failed at that years ago.”

The photos, the smiles, the short conversations, all of it lasted longer than expected. By the time the crowd thinned, the afternoon sun had started softening into gold. Yan Cijin leaned into Bai Li’s side as they walked back toward the car, tired now in the pleasant way that follows a full day. ”My feet are done,” she said.

”Your feet are always done.”

”They are sensitive.”

”They are dramatic.”

”You married them too.”

Bai Li gave her a sideways look. ”I married the whole package.”

”That was smooth.”

”I know.”

They went home briefly to change before dinner, and by then the condo was filled with the quiet relief of returning to their own space. Yan Cijin kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the couch, stretching her arms above her head like a cat claiming a warm patch of sunlight. Bai Li set the bags down, slipped out of her blazer, and walked over to press a hand against Yan Cijin’s ankle. ”You are not dying, right?”

Yan Cijin opened one eye. ”Not yet.”

”Good.”

”Why? You got plans?”

”Yes. Dinner reservation.”

That got Yan Cijin’s attention. She sat up. ”Where?”

Bai Li hesitated just long enough to make her suspicious. ”You will see.”

Yan Cijin narrowed her eyes. ”That means you have done something expensive.”

”Not necessarily.”

”That means you have done something romantic and are waiting for me to be grateful in a specific way.”

Bai Li’s mouth curved. ”Maybe.”

Yan Cijin pointed at her. ”See, this is why people think you are innocent. You are not innocent. You are just quiet.”

Bai Li leaned down and kissed her, slow and deliberate, making Yan Cijin stop talking mid complaint. It was not a dramatic kiss, not some performance for the sake of content. It was the kind of kiss that lived in the space between the noise of the day and the softness of home. Yan Cijin’s hands came up to hold the front of Bai Li’s shirt, and for a few seconds the whole condo felt like it had gone still. When they separated, Yan Cijin was smiling in that slightly dazed, very happy way she got when Bai Li caught her off guard.

”Okay,” she said, breathing a little lighter. ”Now I am ready to pretend to be civilized.”

”You are never civilized.”

”I can act.”

”You cannot act.”

”I am a famous YouTuber.”

”That is not acting.”

”Fine. I am a highly successful clown.”

”That is closer.”

Dinner was at a quiet rooftop restaurant overlooking the city, a place with warm lighting, soft music, and just enough privacy to make it feel like they were suspended above Bangkok rather than inside it. Bai Li had booked the table without telling her anything, which in itself was a sign that something sentimental was happening, because she usually told Yan Cijin every plan at least twice unless she was deliberately being mysterious. Yan Cijin took one look at the view, then at Bai Li, and her face softened. ”You did this because I complained about not seeing the skyline enough, didn’t you?”

Bai Li took her seat across from her and folded her hands neatly. ”You complain about everything.”

”That is not an answer.”

”It is a partial answer.”

Yan Cijin laughed and reached across the table to tap Bai Li’s fingers. ”You are the worst. The best, but also the worst.”

Bai Li’s eyes stayed on her wife. ”You are the reason I leave work early.”

Yan Cijin paused, then smiled very slowly. ”That is illegal. Say it again.”

Bai Li did not even pretend to be embarrassed. ”You are the reason I leave work early.”

Yan Cijin looked so pleased with herself that the waiter almost laughed while setting down their drinks. The dinner itself was beautiful, but the real entertainment happened between bites, because Bai Li and Yan Cijin had a habit of turning even a quiet meal into a private show. Yan Cijin pretended to be a food critic, describing each dish with overdone seriousness. ”This sauce has notes of confidence and mild danger. Very bold. Very committed.”

Bai Li, sipping her drink, said, ”You say that about everything.”

”Because I have taste.”

”You have opinions.”

”That is basically taste.”

They talked about everything, their next video ideas, the weirdest comments they had received online, a fan who once asked Bai Li if she could ”borrow” Yan Cijin for one day, and Yan Cijin’s disastrous attempt to learn Thai dance from a tutorial video at 2 a.m. the week before. Bai Li listened with that steady attention of hers, interrupting only when necessary, but she always knew how to land the right line at the right moment.

”Your fans think I am the strict one,” Bai Li said at one point, setting down her fork.

Yan Cijin leaned her cheek into her hand. ”Aren’t you?”

”I am precise.”

”That is just a fancy word for strict.”

”I am also generous.”

”With my money, yes.”

”With my patience.”

Yan Cijin’s lips curved. ”That is true. You are very patient with me.”

Bai Li’s expression softened just a little. ”I am fond of you.”

”Fond?”

”Very fond.”

Yan Cijin put a hand over her heart in exaggerated delight. ”She is confessing.”

”I am not confessing anything.”

”You just did. People do not say ’very fond’ unless they are deeply gone.”

Bai Li reached across the table and took Yan Cijin’s hand. Her thumb moved slowly over her wife’s knuckles, a tiny gesture, but one that had more feeling in it than a dramatic speech would have. ”Then perhaps I am deeply gone.”

Yan Cijin looked at her for a moment, and then her face changed in that subtle way it did whenever the soft side of her came through the jokes. Her voice got quieter. ”You always say the sweetest things when I least expect it.”

”I do not know what you mean.”

”You do. You just like acting innocent.”

Bai Li did not answer, but she did squeeze Yan Cijin’s hand. That was enough. It always was.

By the time they got home, Bangkok outside had gone darker, the city lights now spread everywhere like someone had thrown glitter across the horizon. Yan Cijin dropped onto the bed first, fully dressed still, and let out a long theatrical groan. ”I am not built for walking that much.”

”You are built for talking that much.”

”That is not the same thing.”

Bai Li removed her earrings, set them carefully on the dresser, and then climbed onto the bed beside her wife. For a second they just lay there, side by side, looking up at the ceiling. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the far off city noise slipping in through the glass. Their filming day was over, their dinner was done, the fans had been met, the shopping bags were scattered around the room, and the whole long day had settled into a tired kind of happiness.

Yan Cijin rolled onto her side and looked at Bai Li. ”Come here.”

Bai Li turned toward her. ”I am already here.”

”Closer.”

Bai Li moved until there was almost no space between them. Yan Cijin slipped an arm around her waist, then tucked herself into Bai Li’s chest with complete ease, like this had been her place all along and the world had simply been negotiating around it. Bai Li’s hand settled in her hair, fingers moving slowly through the strands. Yan Cijin sighed, the sound soft and content. ”This is my favorite part of the day,” she murmured.

Bai Li kissed her forehead. ”The bed?”

”No. You.”

That made Bai Li go quiet for a moment. She lowered her face, kissed Yan Cijin’s temple, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth with all the tenderness she usually saved for private moments. Yan Cijin smiled against her skin and tugged her closer still. The kiss deepened just a little, warm and lazy, not rushed, not showy, just them. There were no cameras on now, no audience, no comments, no performance. Only the small sounds of breathing and the soft shift of blankets as they settled more comfortably together.

Yan Cijin touched Bai Li’s jaw and said in a sleepy voice, ”You know what is funny?”

”What now?”

”Today we met three fans who said we looked exactly like our videos.”

”We do.”

”No, I mean we looked even more in love.”

Bai Li’s eyes stayed on her. ”That is because we are.”

Yan Cijin’s smile turned soft and slightly crooked. ”See? That is the kind of line that ruins me. I cannot defend myself against that.”

”You do not defend yourself against anything.”

”Correct. I surrender to romance.”

Bai Li laughed under her breath. ”You surrender to dessert too.”

”Dessert is a close second.”

They stayed like that for a while, tucked together in the dark, talking in low voices about nothing and everything. Yan Cijin told Bai Li which comments from today’s vlog would probably go viral, and Bai Li told Yan Cijin which parts needed cutting before they accidentally gave the internet a new reason to scream for a week. They argued over whether the luxury tomato line should stay in the final edit, and Yan Cijin insisted it would become an iconic moment, while Bai Li said it would become evidence. Yan Cijin laughed into the pillow. ”Evidence of your genius.”

”Evidence of your poor fashion choices.”

”Still genius. Just with spice.”

Eventually the joking faded into that easy quiet they shared when the day had finally burned itself out. Yan Cijin’s body relaxed against Bai Li’s, her breathing slowing. Bai Li kept stroking her hair, careful and steady, until Yan Cijin’s eyes started to close. Before she fully drifted off, she muttered, ”Tomorrow we should film something funny.”

”We always film something funny.”

”No, I mean something chaotic.”

”That is also every day.”

”True. Then we should film something expensive.”

”You mean shopping.”

”Yes.”

Bai Li smiled, a tiny private thing in the dark. ”You are predictable.”

”And you love me anyway.”

”Yes,” Bai Li said, very quietly.

Yan Cijin opened one eye just enough to look at her. ”You said that like you have no shame.”

”I do not.”

”Wow. Cold.”

”It is not cold. It is accurate.”

Yan Cijin grinned and pressed one final sleepy kiss to Bai Li’s lips. ”Good. Be accurate in the morning too. Tell me I look cute before coffee.”

”You always look cute.”

”Even when I look like a raccoon?”

”Especially then.”

”That is true love.”

”It is.”

She finally settled down, head on Bai Li’s shoulder, one leg thrown over her wife’s legs in a way that made it impossible to leave even if anyone wanted to. Bai Li pulled the blanket over them both, then reached over to turn off the lamp. The room slipped into darkness, but the city lights still shimmered faintly beyond the window. Bangkok kept moving, loud and bright and busy, but inside the condo everything had gone soft and warm and still.

Yan Cijin’s voice came one last time, sleepy and smiling. ”Li.”

”Mm?”

”I had a good day.”

Bai Li kissed her hair. ”Good.”

”Very good.”

”I know.”

Yan Cijin made a tiny pleased sound and nuzzled closer. ”You make every day weirdly perfect.”

Bai Li lay there with her wife in her arms, feeling the steady warmth of her body, hearing the gentle rhythm of her breathing, and she thought, not for the first time, that some kinds of happiness were not loud at all. They did not need fireworks or speeches or grand declarations. Sometimes they looked like a shared breakfast in a bright kitchen. Sometimes they looked like a shopping bag in one hand and a wife laughing beside you on the street. Sometimes they looked like a camera recording a moment nobody else could fully understand. Sometimes they looked like a kiss in the middle of an ordinary night, soft enough to be forgotten by the world, unforgettable to the two people inside it.

Outside, the city kept shining. Inside, Bai Li held Yan Cijin a little closer, and that was enough for both of them.

.

.

.

To be continued.

This is the last extra Chapter. I will write them again when I feel like it. From tomorrow, the original story continues.