Chapter 8: New Beginnings in Maple Heights

My phone buzzed—Autumn’s video call.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever came next.

On screen, Autumn’s hair was slightly damp, a white towel draped over her shoulders, silk camisole showing a graceful figure—she’d just showered.

I looked away, focusing on her eyes. My cheeks burned.

Out of courtesy, I didn’t look around, just at her face.

“Goo…good evening.” I was a bit nervous.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal.

“Good evening.” She glanced at me nonchalantly, continued her actions.

She combed her hair, the silence comfortable.

“Heard of the story of King Arthur and the witch?” she suddenly asked.

“Hm?” I didn’t understand, so I listened.

I leaned in, curious.

“Young Arthur was captured by enemy soldiers and brought to the king. The king didn’t kill him but gave him a chance—if he answered one question, he’d go free.

The question: What do women truly want?

The king gave Arthur a year to find the answer. He asked many—priests, sages, jesters—but no one gave a satisfactory answer.”

Her voice was soft, the story familiar but new.

“So, do you know the answer?” Autumn looked at me.

I took a breath, feeling the weight of the moment.

“What women truly want is to control their own destiny.” I lowered my eyes and gave the answer.

All previous tension and awkwardness vanished.

I saw her smile, genuine and bright.

“Yes, to control their own destiny.” Autumn stopped her actions. “So, do you think I was prettier with long hair or now?”

I didn’t hesitate.

I looked up at her, sincerely: “Beauty is for you to decide.”

Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment, the world felt right.

Autumn smiled, her dark eyes sparkling, “Tyler, you really haven’t changed.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

The weight of the past weeks lifted, just a little.

“When we were at school, do you know who I envied most?”

Her voice was softer, almost shy.

“From your tone, seems like me, but why? In grades, I couldn’t match you as top student; in looks, I wasn’t as handsome as the class hunk, and… I was mired in scandal.”

I laughed, self-deprecating.

“But you’re just you.” She said, “Actually, I didn’t like long hair or white dresses. But after my dad ran off with a streamer, my mom put all her hopes on me.

From elementary to high school, I was always the parent’s ideal. Until I met you, I realized someone’s colors could be so vivid.

I remember you joking with your deskmate in a girl’s voice by the window, and how you defiantly flipped off the school bully…”

Her words brought back memories I’d tried to forget.

“Stop! Stop… is that really me?” I blushed, my face heating up.

I covered my face, but I was grinning.

“Haha… you’re cute now too.” Autumn laughed heartily.

Her laughter was infectious. I couldn’t help but join in.

We talked a lot about the past, both very happy.

The hours slipped by, the conversation easy.

As for our relationship… more than friends, less than lovers.

We didn’t need to label it. For now, this was enough.

With tacit understanding, we chose to let things flow naturally.

I felt lighter than I had in years.

Riding the hype, I sold all the oranges at home, but my previous bottleneck wasn’t solved.

The rush was great, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Looking at other sellers’ streams, they offered many products, but I had only oranges.

I could quit streaming—after all, I’d sold out this year’s oranges.

But what about next year? What about others in the town?

I thought of my neighbors, my uncle, everyone depending on the harvest.

My uncle, with calloused hands, gripped mine, “Tyler, help your uncle’s family. If these oranges don’t sell, your cousin’s tuition… you watched her grow up.”

His voice cracked, and I knew I couldn’t turn him down.

I couldn’t stand by or be indifferent.

I started to seriously consider my streaming niche—just a fruit seller? A talent streamer with voice and transformations? Or… a rural lifestyle streamer.

I made a list of pros and cons, consulting Autumn late into the night.

After careful analysis and consulting Autumn, I decided to go the rural streamer route.

The American countryside has its own magic—red barns, dusty pickup trucks, and Fourth of July fairs. I filmed the sunrise over the orchard, the geese honking by the pond, the way the morning light danced across the fields.

With a clear direction, I still used transformations to attract viewers, but each one had a theme.

Every stream was a mini-story. I planned costumes, props, even little skits.

For example, a day herding geese.

I’d prepare a homemade feather costume, grab a long walking stick, stroll through wildflowers, collect goose feathers to make a quill, a fan, or a unique headpiece.

I let my creativity run wild, and the viewers loved it.

In short, quality over quantity.

My unique, refined streaming style quickly attracted a large audience. Everyone knew I had scripts, but each time there were surprises.

People tuned in to see what I’d do next. The chat was full of inside jokes and fan art.

My followers skyrocketed to tens of millions, boosting the county’s economy, and I was hired as a regional image ambassador.

I even got my picture in the local Maple Heights Gazette. Mom framed it and hung it in the living room above her casserole recipe collection.

At the peak of my career, Sebastian quietly disappeared from streaming.

He faded away, his name only mentioned in cautionary tales.

Once, I mentioned him to Autumn. She frowned, after our last confrontation, he lost many followers, was banned for a month, and…

His content was problematic, relying on drama and calling out other streamers to induce gifts, and scamming fans privately. After being reported, he was permanently banned.

I shook my head. It was sad, but not surprising.

I was silent for a moment. Expected, yet still surprising.

My relationship with Autumn progressed smoothly. When the lilies bloomed the next year, I was ready to confess.

I rehearsed my speech a hundred times, practicing in front of the bathroom mirror.

I invited Autumn to Maple Heights to see the lilies, and she gladly accepted.

She arrived in a sundress and sneakers, her smile brighter than ever.

Perfect time and place, just as I took out the hidden roses to confess, someone suddenly rushed out—it was Sebastian.

He looked wild, desperate, like he’d lost everything.

He held a steak knife, eyes wild, stabbing at me. In danger, I threw the thorny roses at his face, the knife missed by a few inches, grazing my arm. I seized the chance to escape.

The thorns scratched his cheek, buying me precious seconds.

After running a few yards, I realized Autumn hadn’t followed. Looking back, Sebastian was targeting her.

My heart stopped. Without thinking, I grabbed a rock and threw it at Sebastian, “Coward, come at me if you dare.”

My voice echoed across the field. He turned, rage in his eyes.

Enraged, he charged at me with the knife.

The lily pond was a mile or two from town. I planned to lure him to Main Street so everyone could help, but suddenly Autumn’s voice came from behind.

“Stop running, I’ve got him.”

I turned to see Sebastian pinned to the ground like a rag doll, Autumn banging his head on the grass until he passed out.

Her moves were fast, precise—a black belt in action.

I remembered Autumn saying she was a taekwondo black belt.

She dusted off her hands, looking only mildly annoyed.

“Stop staring, call the cops.”

“Oh, oh.”

I scrambled for my phone, dialing 911 with shaking hands.

I kicked the weapon aside, called 911, then called neighbors to bring a rope to tie him up tight.

Within minutes, the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up, lights flashing. The neighbors arrived with a length of rope, tying Sebastian up like a prize hog at the county fair.

After making statements at the police station, it was already six in the evening, the sunset dyeing the sky pink.

We sat on the courthouse steps, exhausted. The world felt quiet again.

I kicked a stone, feeling frustrated, “A romantic confession turned into a half-day at the police station.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a sigh.

A slender hand suddenly took mine, “Thanks for protecting me today, boyfriend.”

I looked up, surprised. Autumn’s eyes sparkled in the fading light, her smile as bright as the lilies in bloom.

I turned to see Autumn’s bright smile.

(The End)