Chapter 107 Live Stream 1: Another Life Experience

You hold your phone, staring blankly at the still-black screen.

The cold wind howls, and you stand alone in the snow, waiting for the car to pick you up.

This is a bear enclosure.

As for why you came here…

Your fingertip is hovering over the "Start Live Stream" button, motionless.

The screen reflected a light in your eyes that was hard to define as either puzzlement or alertness—as if you were waiting for an uncertain command.

The events of a few days ago are still echoing in your mind:

With the "family" in the game supporting them, the matter of buying things on behalf of others has come to a relatively close.

Listen carefully to the opportune moment, knock on the door, go inside, stand still, and earnestly say in Rose language to the group of people still discussing things closely inside: "Excuse me for interrupting."

Several people focused their gaze on your face, especially your aunt, whose complex expression flashed across her face before a vast silence ensued.

"I'm sorry, please allow me to speak in my native tongue again." You sincerely switched languages.

“I did something wrong, and I’m willing to take the consequences. I’ll see how to handle this. I’ve already checked the procedures and arranged for the tax payment and refund. I know that as a student, doing something illegal and disorderly is unacceptable. Even if I’m expelled or deported, I have nothing to say.” You paused, your expression somber.

You choked back tears and held your aunt's hand: "Auntie, I know you do everything for my own good, but I have to take responsibility for my own actions. The chaos was caused by my mistake, and I really don't dare to make another mistake."

Your aunt stared at you coldly, all her previous warmth and kindness gone, as if some new command had taken over her mind.

You ignore all of this, and the horrifying touch of her increasingly cold skin, and silently shed tears.

You are waiting.

Things will turn around.

If being a black market reseller can completely strip you of your "child-keeping" status, then what's the point of this game? This isn't reality—and even in reality, there are always moments when the law allows exceptions.

But you know, this leniency absolutely cannot be achieved through "making mistakes," "bribing again," or "continuing to make mistakes."

You're unsure, yet a sense of confidence rises within you. You feel your face burning and your vision blurring.

You feel your heart rate is about to overload.

Chairman Zhang looked at you, then at your aunt, and was about to say something when the other door to the conference room was suddenly pushed open.

Old Wa from the Industry and Commerce Bureau walked in, his expression still neither warm nor cold, his gaze fixed on you, a half-smile on his face.

"Old Wa, our child..." Auntie was about to say something when you suddenly pulled her back.

The ruthlessness in her eyes when she looked back at you was undisguised, and you simply returned her a quiet gaze.

Turning your head away, you wiped away your tears, took a step towards Old Wa, and made a listening gesture.

Old Wa looked at his aunt and smiled: "What did this child do wrong?"

They used a soft, hushed language, which seems to be intentionally meant to be understood by you.

My aunt recounted what "you" had done.

Old Wa then turned to you, glanced at you, and slowly pulled out a chair and sat down, as if he were judging a case or assessing some kind of asset: "What's your name again?"

You gave your name.

"You still have student status, right?"

You nodded, hurriedly took out your student ID to hand it over, but Old Wa waved his hand for you to put it away.

“Yes, I studied tourism management, as I told you,” you stammered.

“Yes, that’s right, you said that.” Old Wa raised an eyebrow slightly, as if deep in thought.

"So here's the thing: you do have a student visa. But you've had cross-border sales records in the past few months, right?"

She slowly and methodically went through the whole story again, and you didn't say much else, just answered her questions one by one.

"No matter what punishment I face... I have prepared proof of tax payment and return, and I am also willing to fully assist the government in cleaning up relevant information sources." You made this promise.

Old Wa didn't say anything. She just twirled the ballpoint pen in her hand, then said something in Rose language that you wouldn't understand to another official in the room.

Ms. Zhang translated softly: "She said this matter is serious. But it's not like there's no room for negotiation."

There's hope.

Your shoulders are trembling, as if you're about to faint.

"This child seems so timid, how could he have done something so drastic before?" Old Wa moved closer, chuckling as he teased the others. "Oh, you only get scared when things are beyond repair, why are you even more scared now that you know there's still a chance?"

Old Wa finally turned his face to you and said, "Don't worry, we've always turned a blind eye to things done by a kid like you. As for those illegal channels, you're not the biggest problem."

"Luckily, we figured everything out before the exhibition started, otherwise, if today's disturbance had happened after the exhibition had begun—you should know that this wouldn't have been a simple administrative incident, right?"

You nodded.

“We don’t want to escalate the situation, nor do we want to put a young student like you in the eye of the storm. You know Hua Luo has a good relationship with you, and the situation is so sensitive right now…” she said in a gentle tone, like a mild-mannered educator, “but we can’t let you get away unscathed.”

You whispered, "I understand."

"You studied tourism management?" she asked again, tapping your shoulder with her finger and pressing it subtly.

"Yes."

"You helped your aunt make these PPTs and did a lot of other designs?"

"Yes."

"You're not entirely without some cleverness," Old Wa said, removing his hand from your shoulder.

You felt a lightness in your body, gave an awkward laugh, and didn't reply.

“It would be such a waste to punish a talented child so arbitrarily. How about…” Old Wa chatted with the official for a bit, then turned to Ms. Zhang and her aunt and said, “How about letting her work legally?”

Everyone was stunned, and you were completely unprepared for things to turn out this way!

A blessing in disguise? A criminal with a talent for crime was exceptionally recruited? Okay, that makes sense.

With your mind racing, you simply pointed to yourself and asked, "Me...work?"

Nobody paid any attention to you. The adults started chatting amongst themselves.

Ms. Zhang smiled and said, "Actually, we could give her a green light. We can apply to have her stay under the Hualuo Tourism and Culture Promotion Bureau as a 'cultural tourism cooperation internship'."

The aunt chimed in, "It just so happens that our cultural tourism exhibition needs someone who understands languages ​​and digital communication, and who has personally experienced the cultural collision between Hualuo and other places. I think it would be great to have her in charge of the pilot project for the 'Hualuo Youth Self-Media Promotion Section'."

Before you can even react, you feel like information is pouring down on you like a waterfall.

"Are you willing to take some time to take responsibility for your past misconduct?" Old Wa asked.

You nodded blankly, and then, as if you had come to your senses, you nodded vigorously.

Old Wa finally smiled and let her secretary in; they were already making arrangements for the matter in earnest.

“Very good. Starting today, we will move your case from the ‘risk blacklist’ to the ‘cooperation observation whitelist’. If you cooperate fully, you will not only retain your student status, but you will also be able to obtain ‘legal short-term cross-border business qualifications’ in the future.”

You exclaimed, "Ah! I can...become a personal shopper?"—You didn't really want to be a personal shopper! I don't know how it just slipped out...

“It’s legal,” Ms. Zhang emphasized. “We go through the proper customs clearance channels and supply genuine brands; we can’t sell counterfeit goods. If you can really learn how, Hualuo needs a bridge like this that understands the ins and outs and knows the bottom line.”

You nod, your emotional performance perfectly balanced: a little dazed, a little moved, a little incredulous, but mostly ecstatic.

"I... thank you. I promise I won't mess around like this again." You playfully raised four fingers, making a vow.

Auntie couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Good to know." — She had already moved on to the next part of the story, and the earlier plot point of "she bribed officials for you just to clear your name" that you had interrupted was now forgotten. The resulting "unpleasantness" had also vanished.

She's back to being that kind, warm-hearted, and loving aunt.

You also felt a sense of relief.

Old Wa stood up and patted you on the shoulder: "Then the first thing you need to do now is to write an apology statement. Both video and text versions."

You immediately nodded: "Understood!"

While organizing the materials, Ms. Zhang said, "The commotion at the exhibition has temporarily subsided, but you still shouldn't wander around. Stay in our cultural exchange group's dormitory tonight, and we'll arrange for you to formally meet with the department tomorrow."

You stand at the doorway, looking back at the way they talk, your mind still a bit confused.

The next day, a solution was reached regarding this matter.

Auntie, Ms. Zhang, Lao Wa, and many other experts from the cultural promotion team—who are complete strangers and seem like a bunch of smiling tigers—gathered together to passionately discuss the next phase of the "New Cultural Tourism Strategy."

You sit there, staring blankly as they argue.

Ms. Zhang spoke with a flushed face and a fervent voice: "What we lack most right now are young faces! People who are active, have buzz, have fans, and have a wide reach!"

"Ideally, they should also be able to edit their own videos and write their own scripts, know how to engage the audience in the comments section, and capitalize on current trending topics. And most importantly, they should be smart enough to know when to shut up," Old Wa added with a dry wit.

Everyone laughed.

Then they all looked at you.

"Me?" You make a silly face appropriately.

The aunt nodded without hesitation, pulled you into her arms, and introduced you to everyone like a precious treasure: "Yes, isn't this our child ready-made? She knows how to film and edit. She sold things before and posted a lot of videos, so she knows a little about the platform's rules. Besides, she just injured her foot and is resting at home, right?"

You finally managed to find a moment to breathe amidst your aunt's impassioned speech, and weakly added, "It's not a particularly complicated matter, but I think I can do it if I try."

"Anyway, she's at home now, editing videos. Oh, by the way, that short video series you made before, wasn't it pretty popular?" Your aunt winked at you.

Actually, she was referring to "you" who, in order to sell products and gain followers, compiled the essence of the internet and posted things like "Does your partner do these things when you meet their parents for the first time? Does that mean they don't love you?", "Can everyone help me check if this hotel is haunted?", and "Dongya's family of origin: We are all xxx", as well as various abstract videos with cat memes, which indeed attracted a lot of attention.

Once the account has been established, you can clear out the comments section, change the pictures and text, and few people will remember why they followed the account in the first place. But then you can use it to sell products.

These are all clues you gleaned from the drafts in the Little Green Book and the summaries of the broadcasters.

"Hmm..." You nodded with difficulty, agreeing to everything. "In short, I got a good haircut, posted frequently, and with a bit of luck, I happened to get a few viral hits."

"Look, this kid has even posted videos and shared his insights!"

A chorus of exclamations of admiration rang out.

All right.

Now they want you to be promoted under the official banner of "Hualuo Cultural Tourism Promotion," editing videos and creating content, pushing you into the spotlight—into the audience, platforms, publicity, statistics, and even the local image.

This is a bit... weird.

Well, how should I put it?

You analyze it slowly.

Why does it have to be this way? Because being a video blogger and making money is indeed a gray area—how should it be classified when someone with a student visa is working abroad like this? So, they help you legitimize your previous purchasing agent work as making videos, and since it's for the government, it seems perfectly reasonable.

Why does it have to be you? Because your "aunt" works in cultural tourism promotion. Opportunities often fall into the hands of unprepared people, simply because of nepotism.

The reason you have no choice but to do it is because your student visa issue is clearly still being held up by the government cooperation office.

They hold the power of approval. And you certainly know that without the status of having a child, your path to "getting through" will likely collapse.

You convinced yourself.

It's not that strange.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "I will try my best to do it."

Everyone cheered up.

The aunt smiled broadly, her eyes crinkling: "You've always been the most obedient child since you were little."

Haha, be a good boy/girl.

With everything settled, you were finally allowed to return to your residence.

With your foot in a bandage, you lie on the bed, helplessly sorting through a sea of ​​materials.

Start with the exhibition itself, then move on to past exchange activities, city landscapes, and trade exhibition areas. Select the most "visually appealing" scenes, add voiceovers, edit, compress, render, and upload them—most of which you've learned on the spot.

Yes, you're really great.

These older officials, especially Los Angeles, had little exposure to the trendy and interesting internet culture in the United States. When you showed them the edited videos, they were all amazed at how rich and interesting they could be.

You were so flattered that you couldn't stop smiling, and you secretly chuckled with a touch of pride at Yoko's lack of worldliness.

As for each video that has already been released, it has naturally been "fully-streamed".

This is not surprising. In the internet industry, even for small personal accounts, if you want to maintain exposure, you must buy promotional traffic from the platform so that you can keep being pushed to people who have already blocked you.

Moreover, this is practically an official account, with ample funding and massive amounts of promotional traffic being poured into it.

Even videos that you think are just average on the internet can suddenly go viral.

Moreover, the data is exceptionally real, with extremely high numbers of likes, comments, and bullet comments, spreading like wildfire.

To be honest, it's impossible not to be satisfied with the results I've achieved.

As long as you're not sleeping, you'll refresh the comments and likes every now and then, and seeing dozens of new statuses in a short while makes you feel great.

As for when you're sleeping... actually, it was your aunt who first asked you if it was really necessary to reply so frequently, and whether you should act a bit aloof to be formal.

So you wagged your index finger and told your aunt that the account needed to be active to retain followers. She not only listened, but also found you a little assistant to work with you, and the assistant would reply to messages for you while you rested.

You might think it's unnecessary... but your aunt is always enthusiastic and tries her best to be your strongest support, so of course you have nothing to say.

A few days later, you sometimes feel confused: Was your video editing really that good? Even content from several days ago is still getting attention.

Is it your talent? No one dislikes the sense of accomplishment that comes from such powerful recognition and high attention.

You try hard not to get arrogant, but no matter when you upload, there are always comments, reposts and attention; just a few seconds after you post, someone will comment "Finally, we've been waiting for you"; you edit a video of the exhibition hall lighting effects, and someone immediately comments "This angle looks the best".

You're even more popular than top influencers and celebrities!

Oh my god! Oh my god!!

This is completely abnormal!

But…

This is a copy.

If everything is "normal," that's the most abnormal thing.

Besides—your videos are indeed quite good.

You repeatedly play your own videos. You're clearly a beginner, but your editing, while not flashy, is very rhythmic. Your style is relaxed and humorous, interspersed with plenty of witty and humorous commentary. It seems casual, but the material selection is sophisticated.

You've differentiated the languages ​​on the two platforms: one with Rose language subtitles and the other with flower language explanations, operating in parallel without interference. The style of each has also been modified to suit the aesthetic preferences of its audience.

You did such a serious job, and it was really good. So what if it went viral!

This is what you deserve.

Comments from the Housing and Construction Department began appearing in the comments section, such as "You are the most authentic blogger I have ever seen who raises children" and "I can actually see respect for different cultures in your videos."

You even received comments and likes from official WeChat accounts of local cultural and tourism bureaus, who tagged your account and interacted with you.

You've been busy for days, feeling dizzy and disoriented, sometimes even staying up all night and reluctant to log off.

Because your "fans" are so enthusiastic.

Generally speaking, internet bloggers will always encounter attacks.

The less popular an account is, the more praise it receives in the comments section; while during its rise, negative voices gradually increase—because with more viewers, naturally more dissenting opinions emerge.

Yet, your account has grown from a nobody to a multi-million follower account gaining hundreds of followers every day, and not a single word of objection has been uttered.

You...you suppress your laughter every day, telling yourself not to get carried away.

Almost on the day your foot healed, your aunt called you to attend another in-person meeting with them.

—They want you to start a live stream.

“There are some cultural and tourism routes here that are going to be tested. Go and take some pictures,” the aunt said casually. “You don’t need to give any explanations. Just take a stabilizer, walk around, take pictures everywhere, and then post a few comments.”

That's easy to say... Actually, the pressure of live streaming is really different from that of making videos.

But you... after thinking about it, you realized that you are obedient and quick-witted, understand the audience's preferences, and can also set the pace. The phone in your hand has already been fully bound to live streaming equipment, work platform, publicity portal, and so on.

With manpower and resources all in place, you... can't do it, can you?

So you released a live stream announcement, posted some ambiguous content, and didn't just follow the plan set up by Auntie and Lao Wa, but also sought the opinions of your fans regarding the location of the first live stream.

And that's how you ended up here.

—Everyone says they want to see how to pet a bear.

Bear Garden.

With just over ten minutes until the broadcast starts, you stare at your reflection on the screen, flickering in and out of focus, like someone standing on a boundary line.

The fervor that had been built up in your heart was cooled by the cold wind.

And those friendly comments are still popping up like a tide.

You smiled as you looked at the various tones and emojis used to urge people to go live, and the cute and witty remarks inquiring about their recent situation.

Okay, your heart is warmed again.

What are you going to say in a moment? Your thoughts are racing.

Let's see what these fans like.

Out of sheer boredom, you click into a fan's profile for the first time.

There's nothing there, it's like a small trumpet.

You clicked into another person's homepage.

That's true too.

Your finger swipes back and forth, and the white light that appears after each screen transition just shines on your face again and again.

It is all empty space.

There was no profile picture, no bio, and no previously posted content. Only a cold, mechanical ID code, like a label mass-produced on an assembly line.

Your brows slowly furrowed.

You know, many people use social media platforms just to "see" rather than "say"—silent users are not uncommon. Is it possible... that everyone is such a silent individual?

A strange, inexplicable flutter begins to rise in your heart, as if someone is whispering numbers in your ear, crunching away at the last vestiges of logic.

Were all your previous successes fake? Were they all just "countless anthropomorphic accounts" that were likely pushed to the top in reality and then translated into content within the game?

So who are you streaming for? And what other good things are there to stream?

—Is my wonderful mood these past few days just an illusion?

Should we admit that our "success" is all fake?

After a moment of stunned silence, you searched for your Little Green Book account.

Haha! You knew it!

You felt a surge of joy again.

Your account is also empty, blank, and empty.

I knew it! The accounts in this dungeon are all incredibly diverse, so it wouldn't be unreasonable if the opponents weren't even human. But the fact that your account is blank at least proves that everyone else's accounts are just like that.

"Ordinary accounts other than bloggers who don't run accounts—well, I should add one more, non-Liuzi—don't have the freedom to express themselves."

You muttered to yourself, as if reading to someone, or as if you were using reason to bury the absurdity that was causing you a dull ache in your heart.

“It’s just a copy,” you chuckled self-deprecatingly. “It would be really abnormal if all the fans were real people.”

Time is almost up.

On the screen, the surrounding snowscape is beautiful and pristine. Your lips are dry, but your body language appears natural and graceful as you record your own shadow waving.

The opening lines that had been swirling in your head suddenly felt awkward. Something just didn't feel right. Either they were too cheesy—come on, they're fans, stop calling them "family" all the time—or too formal—your video style is so unconventional, why do you sound like an old cadre as soon as you open your mouth…

As more and more people flood into the live stream, this process may only take a few blinks of an eye.

You moved your lips, not caring about anything else, just say it, that's all:

"Hello everyone in the live stream, thank you for your support. Let's start the live stream today and follow my lens to see the most interesting event that everyone has voted for - Bear Garden."

"The journey begins!"

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Author's note: Hehe