“What song does everyone want to hear today?” Da Fei even turned on a voice changer during the live broadcast. The sugary tone made Gu Lizhou shudder.
Rows of comments flew by rapidly on the screen:
一So beautiful today!
一Goddess, Goddess, Goddess!
Da Fei looked at the comments and smiled more bashfully than Meng Jingshi from next door.
Gu Lizhou felt as if his throat was being choked and couldn’t utter a word.
His three world views collapsed.
一Da Fei, you’re even prettier today!
一Why are you so late today?
Da Fei explained, “The shop was busy. I worked overtime until after 10 p.m., then came home, took a shower, and changed into fresh clothes.”
一Get some rest, baby.
一Take care of your voice. You’re a little hoarse.
“What does he do for a living ah?” Gu Lizhou asked.
“En? I haven’t mentioned it?” Zhong Weishi said. “Da Fei is the Chief Stylist at ‘Legendary Hair Salon’ on Yueshan Street.”
Zhong Weishi pointed to his own hair. “See this? He cut it for me. A wash, cut, and blow-dry—all for just 15 yuan. Not much different from the 3,600 you spent on yours, right? Da Fei graduated from a professional hairdressing academy and has unlimited potential. Next time, just mention his name—Fly, that’s Da Fei. He’ll definitely give you a discount.”
Zhong Weishi’s hair wasn’t permed or dyed, just a simple cut, barely considered a style. But this unremarkable hairstyle, paired with his outstandingly handsome face, would easily make him the most handsome guy on campus.
Gu Lizhou was slightly tempted. He thought that getting the same campus-heartthrob haircut might take years off his age. So he asked, “How much extra for care treatments?”
“Ca-care treatments?” Zhong Weishi, whose vocabulary didn’t even include those two words, scratched his cheek and asked, “What exactly do you want to take care of?”
Gu Lizhou: “… Forget it.”
Just then, a user with the ID “The Strongest on Earth” sent a virtual airplane, worth 999 yuan.
At the top of the screen, a dazzling special effect of a fighter jet flying across appeared.
[The Strongest on Earth]: How about a song <Romance in the Rain>.
The boldness, the tone, the song request—it perfectly embodied the image of a deep love and domineering CEO.
Da Fei clasped his hands together in front of the camera, smiling so hard he looked like a blooming flower. “Thank you, The Strongest on Earth, for the airplane. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
The joy of the harvest rushed out of the screen.
Gu Lizhou, having never watched a live broadcast before, didn’t understand how much these gifts were worth. But judging from the repeated “thank yous” and the anchor’s radiant smile, he could tell it was a big deal—completely different from the lukewarm reaction earlier when someone with an “F” in their name sent a gift.
Soon after, another user named “Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like” sent an aircraft carrier.
The aircraft carrier was the most expensive gift on the platform, worth 1,314 RMB. Its special effect featured Grandpa Mao falling and colorful fireworks that lasted for several seconds.
Just the special effect alone had to be worth at least ten yuan!
Gu Lizhou clicked his tongue twice. He felt that for the first time, he was out of touch with modern trends. He couldn’t understand what young people these days were thinking—staying up late watching stuff like this. What was the appeal?
“fvck! Da Fei’s hit the jackpot ah! He’s got die-hard fans now!” Zhong Weishi exclaimed, slapping his thigh.
Gu Lizhou was startled by his sudden movement, “How much can he even make from singing all night? Enough to buy a bowl of noodles?”
Zhong Weishi’s eyes widened like little brass bells. Once again, he felt the enormous generational gap between himself and the elderly.
‘The Strongest on Earth’ sent an aircraft carrier.
‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ sent out two aircraft carriers.
‘The Strongest on Earth’ sent three aircraft carriers.
‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ sent four aircraft carriers.
…
Zhong Weishi was completely dumbfounded.
Not only was he stunned, but Da Fei was also at a loss for words.
The Strongest on Earth was actually Qiangzi’s alternate account. Many of the IDs in the live broadcast room were people Qiangzi had invited as plants to create an illusion of popularity and success—like how a small roadside stall crowded with people draws curious bystanders to stop and check it out.
With tens of thousands of yuan coming in, the amount was staggering. However, the platform would take a 50% cut from the anchor’s tips as a handling fee.
This wave of operation is a bit hard to understand.
Da Fei, worried that Qiangzi wouldn’t be able to handle the hefty handling fees, was so anxious that his Taiwanese accent slipped out. “Stop sending gifts already, okay lah!”
In Zhong Weishi’s memory, ‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ had been to the livestream several times before. It was evident that this user now viewed ‘The Strongest on Earth’ as a love rival, furiously competing by sending more gifts.
And Qiangzi, that idiot, was actually willing to splurge despite the exorbitant fees. Was this what they meant by “you can’t catch the wolf without risking the child”?
The user who sent the most gifts would earn the glorious right to request a song.
[Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like]: I want to hear you sing <Love You>.
[The Strongest on Earth]: <Lull Me to Sleep> <Lull Me to Sleep> <Lull Me to Sleep>!!!
Both of them wanted to win the heart of the ‘beauty’, turning the whole scene into a dog blood show. Gu Lizhou was watching, utterly dumbstruck.
“Does that guy spamming gifts know that Da Fei is a man?”
“Know ah. Da Fei’s whole gimmick is cross-dressing for his live broadcast.”
“Then why is he still…” Gu Lizhou trailed off, unsure how to even comment.
“You don’t get it! They’re into this kind of thing,” Zhong Weishi said, pointing at the leaderboard. “See here? There’s a fan ranking. You can see how much each person has tipped. It’s all about gaining favor.”
Gu Lizhou really didn’t understand.
He didn’t get the taste of today’s younger generation, nor could he grasp the point of climbing a leaderboard.
Was it to get the anchor’s attention?
But at the end of the day, he was still a man ah! What was the point of gaining his favor ah! To date him!
Mobile Hotspot felt tired, he pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes.
Zhong Weishi put on his headphones and continued watching the live broadcast.
Recently, Da Fei’s talent shows had become increasingly diverse, even including square dancing, and the live broadcast room was in a frenzy.
This was a happy time that belonged to the otakus.
“Hey, do you think if I streamed myself doing fancy flips, will anyone watch?” Zhong Weishi asked.
“Aside from me, your captive audience, probably no one,” Gu Lizhou replied, his voice muffled and hoarse from beneath the blanket.
Zhong Weishi gave him a look. “Tch.”
Half an hour later, Gu Lizhou’s phone died and shut off automatically.
With no mobile hotspot to rely on, Zhong Weishi had no choice but to exit the live broadcast. He rolled over, pulled up his little blanket, and fell fast asleep within five minutes.
The old man beside him, who had spent over half an hour trying and failing to fall asleep, listened to the faint snoring and sank once again into deep contemplation about life and society.
Is the live broadcast platform considered a profitable industry? What kind of operations team would it take to develop such an app? Could such a team be used for money laundering?
What about minors using their parents’ phones to send tips? Should the platform bear some responsibility?
When Da Fei meets viewers in person, would he wear men’s or women’s clothing?
Is ‘Oops, That’s That What It Feels Like’ male or female?
What’s the purpose of exchanging WeChat? To chat? Meet up? Hook up? Or start a relationship?
And what if Da Fei encounters an organ-harvesting maniac? Would he have time to call for help?
Police receive a report of a body discovered in an old apartment building. During the autopsy, the coroner finds that the female victim is actually a man!
Following this sudden spark of inspiration, Gu Lizhou began constructing character profiles, frameworks, main plotlines, subplots, and foreshadowing, weaving in elements of friendship, family, love, justice, betrayal, and the complexity of human nature…
It could be a dark revenge drama. The protagonist could be a serial killer burdened by national and personal grievances, targeting the son of a corrupt government official who once caused him to lose his comrades. This could unravel a massive drug trafficking case…
Or, taking another perspective, if the protagonist were an undercover agent.. it could be a suspenseful detective story about justice and brotherhood.
The more he thought about it, the more hyperactive he became; and the harder it was to fall asleep.
In the latter half of the night, Zhong Weishi was still dreaming. Half-asleep, he felt a bit chilly, so he turned over, curling up like a little puppy in a hurry to drink milk. He burrowed toward the nearest warm spot.
After his forehead hit something, he quieted down and continued to dream.
Gu Li Zhou’s eyes widened in the darkness.
When he felt Zhong Weishi start to roll over, he instinctively backed away, pressing his back completely against the wall. But now, his chest was met with a warm, fuzzy head, exhaling hot breath against him. He felt like the filling in a sandwich.
“Ugh.” Gu Lizhou rolled his eyes at the ceiling..
The rag Zhong Weishi had tossed to him was flimsy, with a wide neckline. Any slight movement caused soft strands of hair to brush against his skin.
The sensation of touching the same thing with your palm versus your chest was completely different.
His weathered palms could only register softness, but his chest felt itchy and tingly, like a jolt of electricity.
Especially when Zhong Weishi raised his arm and dr4p3d it over his thigh—Gu Lizhou almost jumped straight out of bed.
What’s wrong with this guy!
What are you doing on a hot day like this!
Dreaming of being a koala!
The room was so quiet that the only sound was the steady rhythm of a certain someone’s breathing.
Gu Lizhou initially tried to endure it, hoping Zhong Weishi would eventually roll over on his own. But he didn’t. Instead, the warm breath on Gu Lizhou’s chest only made the itchiness and discomfort worse.
A sticky feeling.
How could anyone sleep like this?
Gu Lizhou grabbed Zhong Weishi’s arm with one hand, pressed his shoulder with the other, and gave him a firm push forward.
Zhong Weishi rolled half a turn.
Gu Lizhou was certain this move would wake him up, so he immediately closed his eyes and pretended to be dead.
Unexpectedly, not only did Zhong Weishi not wake up, but he lay in 大 shape for less than half a minute before soft snores started up again.
Gu Lizhou: “…”
One of Gu Lizhou’s legs swung over Zhong Weishi as he reached for the phone on the nightstand.
Zhong Weishi hadn’t changed his password, so after unlocking the phone, Gu Lizhou prepared to record the snores as a ringtone.
The faint light from the phone screen outlined a shallow silhouette in the dark.
Because he didn’t sleep in the right position on the pillow, Zhong Weishi’s head was slightly tilted back, his mouth half-open.
A childish, defenseless sleeper.
Gu Lizhou stared for a moment, then couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Click.” The sound of a shutter echoed, accompanied by the flash, lighting up the quiet room like a bolt of lightning. Gu Lizhou froze, his hair standing on end. He hurriedly clutched his phone and shoved it under the blanket.
The same brat who had repeatedly warned before bed, “I’m a light sleeper, don’t toss and turn, or you’ll wake me up,” hadn’t stopped snoring for a second.
What kind of sleep state was this!
Gu Lizhou felt genuine envy deep in his heart.
It was 3:30 a.m.
Mobile hotspot still couldn’t sleep.
The air conditioner in the room was old and lacked a thermostat function. When it was on, it felt too cold; when it was off, it became too hot. Occasionally, the sound of passing cars could be heard from outside.
For someone with chronic insomnia, even breathing sounds could be a disturbance, let alone someone fidgeting nearby.
Normally, Gu Lizhou would wear earplugs or listen to sleep-aid music. But tonight, neither option was available, so he lay still, letting his thoughts wander aimlessly.
At some point, the blanket Zhong Weishi had wrapped himself in slid to the floor. Combined with his tossing and turning, his stomach was now exposed.
Gu Lizhou glanced over, adjusted the air conditioner two degrees warmer, pulled his own blanket over Zhong Weishi’s flat stomach, and gave it a gentle pat.