Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 20: The First Stream

The name sounded impressive, but when Nancy pushed open the door of the Desert Habitat, the sight was almost comical—an empty stretch of sand with only four little fennec foxes curled together in sleep.

Morning sunlight streamed in at an angle, tinting their soft fur with pale gold.

They were nocturnal by nature, dozing soundly in daylight. Their tiny, round bodies were curled up like fluffy dumplings, their oversized ears flopped over like little fans, rising and falling gently with each breath.

Nancy clutched her chest. "This is unfairly cute… my heart’s going to melt!"

For these furry babies’ future—charge forward!

She strapped on the streaming gear she’d found, registered on the Notes platform, and created her ID: Zookeeper Nancy.

Her fingers clattered over the keyboard as she set the title:

"Animal Communicator Live Consults! I can translate everything your pet’s been cursing you about."

And with that—she went live.

Nancy didn’t even bother checking the chat. She grabbed a little shovel and got to work, huffing as she cleaned up the foxes’ droppings.

Raised under the Summers family’s suffocating control, she barely knew the basics of the Notes app, let alone that the "recommend to acquaintances" setting was still switched on.

Thanks to algorithms and fate, familiar faces soon stumbled upon her stream.

"Mr. Ginger: Well, if it isn’t the Summers family’s little princess Nancy?"

In his luxury apartment, Randy Ginger nearly fell off his chair. The once-perfect girl, the benchmark of his childhood torment, was now live-streaming… shoveling poop? The sight shocked him—and delighted him.

Nancy had always been the top student, the shining "model child" parents held up as a weapon. Seeing her like this was karmic bliss.

He immediately shared the stream with his friends. "Breaking news! Fake heiress Nancy, kicked out of the Summers family, is streaming zoo chores! Claims to be an ‘animal communicator’—what a scam."

The gossip circles of the wealthy lit up like wildfire. They poured in, eager for a laugh.

The viewer count shot up.

The chat, however, was vicious.

"From top of the class to this? Scrubbing a zoo floor? Pathetic."

"Who knows if her grades back then were even real. Bet the ‘vet prodigy’ title was all packaging."

"She lived off Ginnie’s name for twenty years. Serves her right."

Nancy glanced at the live chat and blinked. She’d expected nobody to watch on her first day—yet here they were, flocking in.

Even if it was hate, it was still attention.

The rich brats spewed their mockery, but Nancy only smirked. She’d seen this all her life.

She leaned toward the mic. "This is a veterinary consult stream. If you’re here shouting, maybe you’re just desperate patients hoping for a cure."

"Back in high school you begged to copy my homework. Now you’re begging me to check your brains. Don’t love me too much."

The chat froze.

Behind his screen, Randy’s face burned. He had begged her for homework answers in school, even bribing her with gifts.

Furious, he hammered the keyboard. "Nancy, outside the Summers family, you’re nothing!"

Others in the chat stiffened too, reminded of their own sycophantic pasts.

"Please. I live in a penthouse now and drive a Ferrari, while you scoop poop."

"Animal communicator? Sounds like a scam for the jobless."

"Nancy, you still look decent. My company needs a receptionist. Interested?"

Meanwhile, casual viewers—outsiders to the high-society drama—wandered in, curious.

"Wait, can she really talk to animals? Show us!"

"This backstory sounds like a soap opera. Fake heiress? Zoo stream? Is this scripted?"

Amid the insults and curiosity, a jarringly different comment appeared.

From a user named The One.

"Can you really communicate with animals? How do I book a consult?"

"Urgent!"

Nancy’s eyes lit up. Her first real customer!

"Yes! You’re my first client—special deal. Just send a small gift and we can connect."

The words had barely left her mouth before a giant crown animation exploded on-screen.

Nancy stared. A crown cost one thousand dollars. After the platform’s cut, she’d still clear seven hundred.

Where had this rich guy come from?

Moments later, The One sent a co-host request. Nancy accepted in a flash.

The video link opened, and her breath caught.

On the other side was a striking, blond-haired, blue-eyed young man—handsome enough to look like he’d stepped straight out of a movie.