The next day. This could be the day the counterattack began. Meimei, Jiang Qiuqiu's editor, called to check in on her.
"Don't be nervous—"
"I'm not nervous."
"Okay, fine. Even though he's a huge streamer, his fanbase is complex. He's not strictly a food blogger, and while your follower count isn't bigger than his yet—"
'But your fan engagement is off the charts.'
"Sister Mingmei, don't worry! It's nothing, really. We're just having a little culinary showdown, not getting into a brawl on some PK stage. You have to have faith in me."
"Alright, I have faith in you." Meimei sighed. "It's me, I'm the one who's not calm. You're just like Little President Qian, both so composed."
"Haha, I'm confident in my cooking, and Little President Qian is confident in his palate. So please, Sister Mingmei, relax. We're not going to lose."
Her confidence was contagious, but—
"Did something happen yesterday? You seem to be in a good mood."
"Nothing much, I just achieved a small milestone."
