The fan was still running, and the piece of paper trembled on the corner of the table. Chen Hao stopped staring at the dice, closed the card case lid, and pressed it down twice.
“We can’t just change the rules,” he said. “We need to let people know that this is still alive.”
Nana stood to the side, and the camera flashed briefly: "There is currently no record of active transmission. We recommend initiating a public notification process."
“The radio station isn’t under our jurisdiction.” Chen Hao stood up and cracked his knuckles. “Besides, who’s going to remember what you shout? It has to be visible and have some interesting elements.”
He walked to the corner, pulled out a piece of cardboard, and dusted it off. The cardboard had been used to pry open a leaky pipe before; the edges were a bit warped, but the surface was fairly smooth.
“Make posters,” he said. “The old way, it’s a bit clumsy, but everyone can read them.”
Nana immediately walked over, her robotic arm extending to project several layout templates. She used a design template from a community announcement thirty years ago from the database, removing the fancy borders and leaving only the clearest structure.
“Use large font for the title.” Chen Hao dipped his brush in red paint mixed with mineral powder and gestured on the paper. “Write: ‘The Base’s First Co-creation Entertainment Night’.”
Simultaneously, Nana used a fine pen to outline the title on another piece of paper. The handwriting was neat and precise, not a single stroke out of place.
"Here are the highlights," Chen Hao continued. "First, the first public performance of the guitar rendition of 'The Song of the Base'."
"Should we credit the performers?" Nana asked.
“Of course.” He grinned. “Write ‘Lead Vocalist and Guitarist: Chen Hao’.”
“Information redundancy,” Nana said. “The audience only needs to know that there is a performance.”
“That’s different,” Chen Hao insisted. “I’ve practiced for so long, I should at least get a name on the list, otherwise it’s all for nothing.”
Nana paused for half a second before entering the information.
The second point is the board game experience section. Chen Hao emphasized that it must be clearly stated as "first release trial," and also include the sentence "the rules have been optimized, and the pace is faster."
"Should we mention the prizes?" he asked himself. "Yes. The sachets and ornaments are all handmade; it would be a shame not to mention them."
He drew a small bag in the corner, from which a dried flower emerged.
“The time and location also need to be specified.” He glanced at his watch. “The restaurant area will open to the public three days from now, at 6 p.m.
"Should we add a call to action?" Nana asked.
"Add one more sentence," Chen Hao thought for a moment, "'Coming to visit is the greatest recognition for us.'"
After saying that, he laughed first: "It sounds like I'm begging for charity."
“The emotional expression is genuine,” Nana said, “and it aligns with human social incentive mechanisms.”
The poster took two hours to finish. The colors weren't vibrant enough, but the text was large enough and the images were straightforward enough. Chen Hao applied glue to the back of the three stickers, then carried the ladder outside.
The first poster was placed at the restaurant entrance, directly opposite the food pick-up area. He climbed the ladder to post it just as lunchtime was approaching.
Someone passing by glanced at it and casually asked, "What's going on here?"
"Activities," Chen Hao said, smoothing out the edges, "Play board games, listen to guitar, and you can win prizes."
The man nodded and left. He didn't speak, nor did he stop.
The second information wall was posted at the corner of the corridor. It used to be full of maintenance task orders and material lists, but suddenly a colorful piece of paper appeared, standing out conspicuously.
Nana stood below, observing the crowd's reaction. Data showed that the number of people who lingered for more than five seconds rose from zero to three.
The third lamp was hanging on the beam in the rest area; it was high up, but offered a wide view. Chen Hao almost lost his footing when he climbed up, but luckily he managed to grab the lamp stand.
“Don’t make me do this job next time.” He came down, panting. “My physique isn’t suited for climbing.”
“I can do the posting next time,” Nana said. “My robotic arm has a range of 3.2 meters.”
“That’s true.” Chen Hao patted her on the shoulder. “But I have to show my face. Nobody believes machines can create a buzz when it comes to publicity.”
They started introducing themselves. Chen Hao would say a few words to each person who passed by.
"The rules have been revised and will not be delayed."
"This is not a test, it's an official event."
"I've practiced the guitar countless times, I guarantee I won't go off-key."
Initially, there wasn't much response. Some people nodded and left after listening, while others simply took a detour to avoid the area.
Technician Lao Li came out of the tool shed and stood in front of the poster for a long time.
"That board game..." he finally spoke, "can we play it as a team?"
“Of course!” Chen Hao immediately replied, “Three people per team, cooperating to fight against random events. Fast-paced, with many unexpected twists.”
"Okay." Old Li smiled. "I'll bring two newbies with me. Just in case there aren't enough spots later."
After that sentence, the situation changed.
Within half an hour, four people came over to ask about the time, the rules, and whether they could bring their own drinks. A young repairman even offered to help move the table.
"Do you need a sound system?" he asked. "I have an old amplifier that I can fix up and use."
"Yes," Chen Hao said without hesitation. "As long as it doesn't explode."
Nana silently recorded everyone's questions and updated the statistics on the number of potential participants.
By 5 p.m., eight names had been preliminarily confirmed as participants, and five others indicated they would "most likely come."
Chen Hao sat in the center of the restaurant, looking at the poster on the wall. Sunlight streamed in at an angle, making the words "Creating an Entertainment Night Together" shine.
“At least no one is saying it’s a waste of time anymore,” he said.
Nana stood to the side, the camera flashing slightly: "Current materials remaining: two pieces of cardboard, three tubes of paint, and half a bottle of glue. It is recommended to replenish and post these materials in the work area and dormitory corridor tomorrow."
"Post them," Chen Hao stood up. "The more the better. We're just killing time anyway."
Just as he was about to leave, he bumped into a figure carrying a toolbox. The person stopped, looked up at the poster, then looked at him.
"Are you really going to play the guitar?" the man asked.
"What?" Chen Hao asked back.
“During the last rehearsal, you cracked your voice three times while singing ‘The Light of Hope Will Never Die’.”
Several people nearby heard this and burst out laughing.
"That was just a testing phase," Chen Hao said calmly. "I'll definitely perform normally in the actual performance."
"Then you'd better pray that the audience's ears aren't too sharp." The man laughed and walked away.
Chen Hao didn't refute. He turned to look at Nana: "Did you hear that? The pressure is even greater now."
“Your vocal cord vibration frequency does indeed have an unstable range in the high register,” Nana said. “I suggest you practice for another thirty minutes tonight.”
"I knew you'd say that."
He rolled up his sleeves again and took another blank piece of cardboard from his bag.
“Let’s make another poster,” he said. “This time, add a subtitle—'Cracking the voice is also part of the performance.'”
Nana didn't laugh, but she slightly adjusted the focus of her camera, as if she was seriously considering the impact of her words.
Chen Hao wrote the new title with a thick pen, and a small stain of paint dripped onto the table. He didn't wipe it away, letting it slowly spread.
Footsteps could be heard outside; a few people walked and talked.
"Have you heard? The restaurant is having an event."
"Is that fat guy playing guitar the one who tried out the board game last time?"
"It seems so. He also said that the loser would receive a consolation prize."
The sound was getting closer.
Chen Hao looked up and saw three figures walking towards the door. The one in the lead pointed at the poster.
"Can we participate at this time?"
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