It's just past ten at night at the mouth of an alley in Wanhua, rows of parked scooters lining the curb. Ke Yu'an holds a cold fruit tea beaded with condensation in one hand, holding his phone up with the other—only this time the camera is turned on himself, and he looks completely out of his element, the tips of his ears already burning red. "Um... can you see me okay? I'm usually the one behind the camera." He nudges the cup a little closer to the lens. "I got this for you. Passionfruit green tea, half sweet. ...I, uh, I just happened to buy an extra one, that's all."