The speed of information dissemination in the internet age is simply unimaginable.
When Jiang Cheng returned home and opened her computer to check on Ye Xiqiu’s live broadcast, she was surprised to find that her and Ye Xiqiu’s virtual avatars had appeared on Cat Station’s front page.
[Shocking, two virtual streamers actually did this in their livestream]
‘Isn’t the Shocking Zone full already?’
While complaining about the malicious clickbait titles, Jiang Cheng clicked on that video on the front page.
Although the title was abstract, the content was very normal—it was the song “Sunny Day” she had sung this afternoon.
Hearing the melodious voice in the video, Jiang Cheng nodded in satisfaction.
‘Sure enough, this young lady’s voice is perfect no matter how many times I hear it.’
Then she looked at the comment section.
Jiang Cheng minimized the video page, scrolled down to the comments, and read through them one by one.
The comment section was unexpectedly clean, filled with all kinds of praise and amazement.
There was almost none of that toxic atmosphere from the internet of her previous life.
[Oh my god, I never thought a song could sound this good with such simple lyrics]
[This song reminds me of my high school days, lazily lying on the classroom desk in the afternoon, listening to the melodious music from the school broadcast—that’s a youth I will forever cherish but can never return to…]
[God among gods]
Looking at these comments, Jiang Cheng deeply related.
After all, in “his” world, when “he” was still a boy, this song had accompanied “his” youth.
At the same time, she also noticed some negative voices in the comments.
But these people’s skill levels were too low—she didn’t mind at all.
As for what some comments said, that most popular songs in this world were all sorts of catchy but brainless tunes—that did bother her.
Maybe the divine songs from her previous life could achieve great results in this world too.
Thinking this, Jiang Cheng closed the page.
She opened her follow list and was surprised to find that “Shengxia” was still streaming?
Logically, over an hour had passed since she left, plus the time before that, making it almost three hours now.
Besides, Little Xiqiu wasn’t in good health—she should have stopped by now.
Jiang Cheng frowned.
‘This girl, is she not even resting just to let others hear her singing?’
‘Next time, I’ll have to press her head and give her a good scolding.’
Having made up her mind, Jiang Cheng clicked on the livestream.
“…Sorry… I can’t sing Dongxue’s ‘Sunny Day.'”
Hearing Ye Xiqiu’s voice, Jiang Cheng curled her lips.
‘Mm, Little Xiqiu’s voice isn’t bad either—just a little bit worse than mine.’
Then she realized something was wrong.
Why was Little Xiqiu apologizing?
Jiang Cheng turned up the computer volume, listened carefully for a while, and with the help of the bullet comments, understood the reason.
It turned out that a blogger named Lin Bei had clipped the earlier video and posted it online, where it instantly blew up.
Many music enthusiasts came seeking out the creator of this song to see how amazing they were.
But after entering the livestream, they were surprised to find that only the girl who hadn’t spoken in the video remained.
Even more surprising to them was that this little-known “Shengxia” was the actual host of this small livestream room.
Ye Xiqiu’s singing skills were quite good, but they cared more about the “genius” named Dongxue.
Jiang Cheng felt a bit embarrassed.
She knew her own level—at best, it was LV2 high-tier, while Ye Xiqiu was at least LV3 mid-tier, a bit higher than her.
As for how much was needed to create “Sunny Day”?
LV4? LV5? Or even higher?
Jiang Cheng didn’t dare to think.
She decided to stop being so flashy from now on.
If someone caught her and asked about beats and melodies, she wouldn’t even be able to make something up—she’d definitely be exposed.
Turning back to the screen, the little avatar representing Ye Xiqiu kept apologizing, pushing the credit onto Dongxue.
Jiang Cheng felt a bit awkward.
‘I caused this trouble, and Little Xiqiu has to take the blame—isn’t that bad?’
She thought for a moment.
Her transformation time for today was already used up.
If she wanted to meet Ye Xiqiu, she could spare some time tomorrow, but she couldn’t do nothing before that.
Jiang Cheng opened Ye Xiqiu’s homepage.
Her ID had changed from “Shengxiadefeng” to “Dongxueyushengxia,” and her follower count had skyrocketed to 40,000, still growing.
‘That’s crazy…’
After sighing in amazement, Jiang Cheng opened Ye Xiqiu’s private messages and sent a message: “Shengxia, you’ve already worked hard. You don’t need to feel inferior. It’s okay to be a little casual sometimes.”
Little Xiqiu probably wouldn’t receive it, but she still wanted to say it—it would make her feel better.
After doing this, Jiang Cheng closed her laptop, let out a sigh, and went out to prepare dinner.
Just as Jiang Cheng exited the livestream, a bullet comment floated by.
[Shengxia, why didn’t you stream earlier?]
Ye Xiqiu recognized the ID—it was one of her old fans.
“Actually, I didn’t want to stream anymore before.”
She hesitated, then spoke.
“But then Dongxue came to me. She’s my… friend, a very busy girl. We can only see each other for two hours every other day. She said she wanted to sing with me, wanted to form a band or something… so I agreed.”
“However…”
“However, I’m still lost now…”
Ye Xiqiu took a deep breath, as if holding something back.
Then she slowly began, “Actually, I don’t want to stream anymore…”
“Once, I thought that if my life could only be like this, then before I die, I’d at least let others hear my songs, to prove that I once existed.”
“But I don’t think that way anymore.”
“I want Dongxue to hear my voice more, and I want to hear Dongxue’s voice. She’s very gentle, and I want to return that same gentleness to her. As for streaming… I don’t care anymore. As long as Dongxue is happy.”
“Although I’d rather Dongxue spend those two hours only with me…”
After saying this, she laughed self-deprecatingly.
“Maybe I don’t dare tell Dongxue this because I’m afraid that if she knows I don’t want to become a star, she’ll go find someone else… After all, she’s the moon in the sky, and I’m just a tiny firefly.”
“But even moths fly into flames, and fireflies want to chase the light…”
After saying this, she fell silent for a moment.
“I wonder if Dongxue can hear this…”
She rubbed her eyes, calmed her emotions, then looked at the screen and blushed.
“Hey hey hey, what does ‘Dongxia 99’ mean! And what’s ‘Hot Yuri’!”
“Alright, alright, stop spamming… Forget it, I’m tired anyway…”
Ye Xiqiu switched out of the screen and placed her mouse over the “End Stream” button.
“Then that’s it for today’s stream. See you tomorrow… actually, see you the day after tomorrow.”
She waved her hand, and the elf girl on screen made the same motion.
“Bye bye~”
After ending the stream, Ye Xiqiu leaned back in her chair…
Then!
“AAAAAH!”
She covered her face.
“How could I say something like that in the livestream! What’s the difference between that and a confession!”
“Dongxue must have heard it, right? No… did she already hear it?”
“Ugh… what do I do…”
The girl fiercely pounded the bear plushie in her arms, venting her embarrassment.
‘First of all, I didn’t provoke anyone.’
After a burst of pounding, Ye Xiqiu calmed down and placed the crumpled bear back on the table.
Since things had come to this, there was no use regretting.
Thinking this, she opened her personal page.
Already 60,000 followers?
After marveling at Dongxue’s charm, Ye Xiqiu began browsing through her private messages.
As she scrolled, the girl let out a surprised sound.
That girl named “Jiangbianyoukechengzishu” had sent her a private message.
She had a lot of private messages, so many she didn’t want to look at them, but this girl’s avatar reminded her of Dongxue, so she took note.
‘Could she really be Dongxue’s little sister or something…’
Let’s first see what she said.
Double-clicking on the avatar, a message popped up.
“Shengxia… it’s okay to be a little casual sometimes…”
The girl unconsciously read it aloud, then a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
‘She really is a lot like Dongxue, not just in appearance but also in the way she talks.’
‘Maybe they’re cat demons from the same clan?’
Ye Xiqiu paused, then looked through Jiang Cheng’s homepage.
“Aidelisa Girls’ Academy’s university division…”
The girl murmured.
“It’s actually not far. Besides, I’m also a student at Aidelisa College, just on leave.”
“Maybe… I could arrange a meeting one day?”