“Sister Lin, I want to come back and stream again. Do you have any platform recommendations?”
Lin Yuanyuan had already guessed this was coming, and sure enough—
“I told you when you stopped streaming—you had great momentum, viewers loved you, and your daily revenue was among the best at the time. But no matter how I tried to persuade you, you refused to stream. You just went silent and stopped broadcasting without a word. Your viewers message me privately every day, and I don’t even know what to tell them.”
In the streaming industry, streamers may not always have genuine feelings, but viewers sometimes grow attached over time. That attachment isn’t just about liking the streamer—it’s about treating the live stream room as a home on the internet, a spiritual refuge, where they chat with other viewers and hop between different stream rooms together. If a streamer stops broadcasting, it’s like no one is opening the door to that home anymore, shutting everyone out. For viewers who’ve watched for a long time, that’s a really frustrating thing.
“I know. I’m sorry, Sister Lin. I was young back then and didn’t think things through. I didn’t handle things properly when I stopped streaming either.”
“So what do you want to do now?”
“I want to switch platforms and start streaming again.”
“You should still have your old account, right? Why switch platforms? Some of your viewers are actually still waiting for you to come back.”
Out of embarrassment—she had really been too thoughtless when she stopped streaming back then—aside from a few top supporters (“big brothers”) from the guild who were required to be well maintained and had added her on WeChat, no one else had her contact information. They didn’t even know why she stopped streaming before she abandoned them all. If she went back to streaming now, and her old viewers still remembered her and were still watching streams, it would affect how those longtime viewers felt about streaming. She already owed them too much, so it was better not to let them see her again.
She was too embarrassed to say all this out loud.
“I just want a fresh start.”
“Which platform are you thinking of?”
“Do you have any recommendations, Sister Lin?”
“Maoya has a Seven Colors Guild branch. I’m currently running Seven Colors on that platform. Do you want to come over?”
When Lin Yuanyuan first entered this industry, she was just a lowly recruiter. A few years later, she was now a senior operator managing an entire channel.
You Yu hadn’t skipped doing her research—she had looked into it. Among the three major platforms today, the old-timer Voice (the platform she used to be on) was in decline. Still, a dead camel is bigger than a horse, so its traffic remained considerable. The other two were the rising platforms Maoya and Seafood, whose traffic was roughly equal—they were constantly poaching each other’s streamers.
There were also various smaller platforms and second-rate ones, but those weren’t worth considering. Small platforms would often stoop to any low just to make money, and she didn’t want that.
She didn’t know about other guilds, but the Seven Colors Guild was a top-tier guild with real power even on Voice, with strong resources and capital.
After a moment’s thought, she agreed to Lin Yuanyuan.
“Okay.”
“Send me a photo of yourself, so I can make a cover image for you later and push some traffic your way.”
Although You Yu had been pretty back in the day, she was young then—who isn’t a flower at eighteen or nineteen? She wanted to see whether today’s You Yu still had what it took to earn a living in this business.
For this kind of photo, a simple selfie would do. Later, the other operators at the guild would edit it with additional elements and turn it into her cover image.
You Yu put on some makeup, found a blank wall, flashed a peace sign at the camera, and with a “click,” the photo was taken.
She sent it straight to Lin Yuanyuan.
The woman in the photo had golden hair that made her skin glow with a jade-like luster. Her expression was subtle, but what caught the eye was that pair of peach-blossom eyes—clear as water, with a tiny tear mole at the corner that softened their flirtatious charm. Her crimson lips curved into a slight arc, utterly captivating.
Lin Yuanyuan was struck at once… Back then she had only thought You Yu was pretty; now that she had fully matured, she was something else entirely.
A flicker of urgency rose in her heart.
“When are you starting your stream? I’ll push traffic to you.”
You Yu blinked and replied cautiously.
“Day after tomorrow?”
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Not really…”
She had just quit her job and wanted a day of rest.
“Then tomorrow it is. In a few days the boss is coming to inspect Maoya, and he’ll definitely be throwing money around. You might even ride a wave of that traffic.”
You Yu thought it over briefly and agreed. Rest didn’t really matter—what mattered was whether her hair had been cared for by Tony.
She hadn’t streamed in years, but back when she made money, she had bought a rather expensive set of streaming equipment.
Who knows why, but she never threw it away over the years. The stuff was pretty heavy, and it had followed her through move after move. Good thing she hadn’t tossed it…
Perhaps fate had arranged all of this long ago.
She dug out all the accumulated equipment.
Hired a technician to come set up the sound card.
She also needed to register an account.
On Voice, her ID had been her real name. Aside from the guild, no one knew she had registered with her real name, and she wasn’t afraid of anyone guessing it—her name looked like a fake one anyway. Hardly anyone in real life had that surname, and back then streaming was still niche, so family and friends would never find out.
But starting fresh on a new platform, she definitely couldn’t use her old name.
She thought for a moment, and her gaze swept over the wine bottle in the corner of the desk.
Yes, You Yu had only two great hobbies in life: one was dyeing her hair, and the other was drinking.
A brilliant idea came to her.
She’d call herself—Drunken Fish!
The name pleased her greatly.
Everything was ready; all that remained was to wait for the stream to begin.
As for Lin Yuanyuan, because the Seven Colors Guild had joined the Star Show Channel late, she was short-handed and had to do many things herself—including small tasks like recruiting streamers. She was exhausted.
After a full day of work, she finally had a moment to herself. She leaned back in her chair, quietly enjoying the relief.
When people close their eyes and sink into darkness, they always think of things that normally never cross their minds.
She suddenly remembered that although on Voice, casual viewers’ contributions had exceeded those of the big spenders, You Yu actually had a few genuinely wealthy big spenders. They didn’t spend much—less than 70 over half a year—but they were quite fond of her.
When You Yu stopped streaming back then, one of them had even come to find her specifically.
What was it he had said…?
…If You Yu ever started streaming again, to let him know.
Her eyes snapped open, and she grabbed her phone.
She actually had him on her friends list.
She opened her contacts and searched for a while—too many friends, couldn’t find him.
She opened the search bar, but for the life of her couldn’t remember his username.
After a long while, she irritably opened a video app and scrolled aimlessly.
A voice caught Lin Yuanyuan’s ear.
“Global warming—the Arctic is starting to melt…”
Rong… It’s Rong!
She sat up straight at once, reopened the search bar she had just closed, and searched: Rong.
An option popped up.
The avatar was a snowman whose arms were made of dry twigs.