Chapter 204: Watching the Live Stream
Once awake, falling back asleep proved difficult.
Bai Cha was noticeably out of form the next day.
While getting water in the pantry, she overheard the conversation behind her.
“This Little Bai—sick every single day, collapsing at the drop of a hat. This won’t do. She can’t handle this line of work at all! Never mind this industry, she can’t handle any industry!”
It was the team leader from the adjacent team again.
Bai Cha had heard these exact kinds of remarks far too many times.
Back in her school days, teachers and elders would say the same thing.
Whenever she fell ill and requested leave, they would invariably sigh, looking at her with eyes full of worry and concern.
“This won’t do. If you’re sick every day, what will you do when the college entrance exams come? Even if you manage to get into a good university, it’ll still be difficult once you start working. You really need to take care of your body!”
Her aunt had actually hired a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner for her.
Yet after drinking the herbal brews for a month with zero effect, Bai Cha used that very result to convince her aunt to stop wasting effort.
She knew full well that nourishing one’s health cost a great deal of money.
Her parents were gone, leaving no savings behind. Her aunt had to work hard outside, and with a daughter of her own who would need money for school later, both her aunt and uncle lived grueling lives.
She didn’t want to be a burden.
And whenever she fell ill, her aunt would sigh while taking care of her.
“How can anyone feel at ease about you in the future? We have to find you a good partner—someone who can take care of you.”
Having heard such words so often, she grew even less inclined to mention her illnesses.
Whenever she felt unwell, she would quietly take some medicine and sleep it off.
Nothing major would happen anyway; making do was enough to pull through.
Yet it was undeniable that because such voices accompanied her throughout her upbringing, she inevitably grew to despise her own body.
Always sick, endlessly sick.
No matter how she proved her capabilities, the moment she fell ill, almost everyone would let out a sigh, looking at her with that same helpless, sympathetic gaze.
“Why are you always getting sick?”
“How come you’re sick again?”
And everything she accomplished would merely be reduced to a single line: Look at Bai Cha—even while sick, she works so hard and is so capable.
Did her hard work and excellence truly require a frail body to serve as a foil?
Perhaps due to poor sleep, her mood wasn’t great to begin with; or perhaps ever since entering the game, she had grown thoroughly sick of putting on a facade in reality.
She stood in place, listened until the end, and turned around.
“Team Leader Xu, whether I can do the work isn’t for you to decide. I do get sick often, but I can get the job done even when I’m ill. Can you?”
Team Leader Xu’s face instantly flushed with embarrassment.
Following that, a wave of rage born of humiliation washed over him.
“I didn’t say anything bad! I was just caring about you. Look at yourself—you do get sick often. What’s wrong with stating the truth? Why are you getting so worked up, little girl?”
Saying this, he waved his hand dismissively.
“Forget it, forget it. Considering your young age, I won’t hold it against you. Oh, you still have so much to learn! After graduation, there’s more to life than just work—there are also rules in social settings. You’d better learn them well!”
Bai Cha burst into laughter on the spot.
This man’s demeanor felt as if it overlapped entirely with Li Dao-peng from the previous instance.
Oh, right—what was Li Dao-peng’s outcome again?
What a pity. No wonder it was said that certain players would carry out extreme actions in reality.
After all, one could strike out directly when encountering an idiot inside the game, whereas reality offered no such luxury.
“What are you laughing at?” Team Leader Xu, who had felt his words placed him on a high and mighty pedestal, found that lofty sense of superiority completely shattered by her laugh.
Bai Cha laughed even harder, swaying gracefully, doubled over with mirth.
“Nothing, nothing. I’m just going to get my water.”
Waving her hand, Bai Cha departed with a smile lingering on her face.
This left Team Leader Xu feeling as though his punch had landed squarely on thin air—thoroughly aggrieved, yet at a complete loss as to how to refute her. He wanted to say something to save face, but her laugh moments ago had made his heart falter with guilt.
It felt as though he had uttered something that invited wild ridicule from others without even realizing where the issue lay. Shame and humiliation flooded his entire body in an instant, making his skin burn hot.
He couldn’t resist turning to look at the male colleague beside him.
“What’s so funny to her? Is she sick in the head?”
The male colleague remained silent for a second, pushing up his glasses.
“She does seem to be sick, yes.”
Team Leader Xu: “…”
Consequently, Team Leader Xu spent the entire day in a terrible mood, unable to get any work done, constantly replaying that brief exchange with Bai Cha in his mind.
Bai Cha, on the other hand, felt her mood improve significantly after witnessing his embarrassment, her spirits growing noticeably invigorated instead.
This left Team Leader Xu feeling even more stifled.
Such was human nature.
For the near future, Team Leader Xu likely wouldn’t be talking behind Bai Cha’s back again.
That night, Xu Shengsheng entered an instance.
Bai Cha had already entered the game beforehand, finding an internet cafe to wait in.
Though called an internet cafe, it offered no actual games, serving primarily as a venue to watch live streams.
She and Xu Shengsheng were added as friends, so when Xu Shengsheng entered the game, a notification would be sent to her.
[System Notice: Your friend Xu Shengsheng is about to enter a game. Would you like to enter the stream to watch?]
Bai Cha clicked Yes.
[Hello, dear player! We detected that this is your first time entering a live stream room. We will now guide you through the stream interface controls.]
[First, the top-left corner features the Close button. Should you experience any discomfort during viewing, you may close the stream at any time.]
[Below the stream interface, you will find recommended streams. You may set your personal preferences first, and we will offer recommendations tailored to your taste.]
[The bottom-left section allows you to post bullet comments, as well as toggle the bullet chat on or off. Rest assured, bullet comments are anonymous; however, should your language be excessively aggressive and reported multiple times by the streamer, your account will be muted for a period of time.]
[Next to the bullet chat is the playback speed control. Should you find a segment boring, you may enable fast-forwarding directly, up to a maximum speed of 10x.]
[The bottom-right section allows you to send tips. You may use your points to tip streamers you like; the split between streamer and platform is 50-50.]
[System Notice: We detected that you have received points during streaming as well. You may click on your personal account avatar to withdraw your streaming points.]
[Note: Withdrawals cannot be processed for amounts under 200 points. A 1% service fee will be deducted upon withdrawal.]
[Should you encounter a streamer you like, you may click Follow; however, following requires a deduction of 10 points, as your affection holds value.]
[Of course, if the streamer in the channel is your friend, you will automatically follow his/her stream channel without point deductions—friendship is priceless.]
[This concludes all the guidance content! You may now begin viewing.]
Bai Cha: “…”
As expected of you, damn game.
Fortunately, she had never paid mind to the streaming channels, nor had she ever checked anything regarding tips.
If someone were to go out of their way to curry favor with stream viewers just to earn points, it would be a massive loss.
Yet it seemed such players truly existed—a select few possessing decent looks but lacking combat ability would pursue such a path, though they remained relatively rare.
Others preferred orchestrating gory, violent scenes to entice viewers into sending tips—much like Baldy Brother Cai back then.
None of this mattered anymore.
Bai Cha turned her eyes toward the camera.
Because she had selected Xu Shengsheng’s stream, the primary camera view was centered on Xu Shengsheng.
Their campus instance contained twelve players in total.
Among them, almost everyone was a recruit.
Stepping inside, the recruits immediately launched into the typical routine of asking what was going on and where they were.
Xu Shengsheng uttered not a word, looking around the surroundings with a matching sense of panic.
Bai Cha offered an approving nod—her younger cousin was sharp, as expected.
With far too many recruits around, displaying one’s true identity was entirely unnecessary.
However, when the camera frame landed on a specific individual, Bai Cha caught sight of a familiar acquaintance without surprise—Lin Zhenyang.
He had entered an instance as well, as expected.
