After joining the Official Hall, Hall Manager Yanmai solemnly handed Nan Que over to Zhi Ma Hu, the administrator of the Spring-Winter Hall.
They even conducted a handover ceremony right in front of Nan Que.
Training Camp Work Group Chat:
Hall Manager Yanmai: @Hall Manager Zhima Hu I’m entrusting our little Nan Que to you, you must treat him well
Hall Manager Zhima Hu: You got it! (pounding chest with tiny fists)
Hall Manager Yanmai: The important thing is don’t let this troublemaker come back!
Hall Manager Zhima Hu: Is… he really that troublesome? (nervous)
Hall Manager Yanmai: Not too bad~ Oh right, I’ve forwarded President Xue’s new arrangements to you too
Hall Manager Zhima Hu:… I want a raise (headache)
Nan Que: Teachers, I’m in the group chat, I can see everything…
Hall Manager Yanmai: Hehe, just a little handover ceremony~
Hall Manager Zhima Hu: (crying) Add me, precious @Nan Que
After Nan Que added Zhima Hu and received the external exchange plan the other party sent, he finally understood why Yanmai had so solemnly dumped him on Zhima Hu.
The mess he had caused during his previous Individual Broadcast had left both halls shrouded in a tense atmosphere ever since.
But now wasn’t the time for the year-end grand competition – there was no need for the two voice chat room revenue halls to engage in a life-and-death struggle filled with dramatic emotions.
The suggestion Nan Que had made that day had indeed scratched Xue Shan’s itch.
Siji Xianyin was famous for its signed singers’ formidable vocal skills – each one could hold their own when sent out, with stable fanbases, though most kept to their own circles.
Yue Yin Lou, however, was different. Its streamers followed a singing+entertainment streaming approach, with numerous but scattered fans who weren’t stable, most supporting multiple streamers.
The two companies’ fan groups had some overlap, but not much.
Siji Xianyin had been emphasizing to its top streamers all year to expand their circles, make more external friends, and break the current insular situation – though with limited success so far.
This encounter with rival company Yue Yin Lou might actually be a good opportunity.
Using this minor incident as a pretext, the two companies had rarely sat down to discuss, ultimately deciding that upper management wouldn’t interfere and would turn a blind eye, letting the smaller streamers interact on their own. As long as no fights broke out, they could increase mutual exchanges.
As for which company would ultimately benefit – that would depend on which side’s streamers had the skills.
Nan Que was one of the participants in this plan.
Next week, Nan Que’s Individual Broadcast would be officially unsealed, while L. Lan from Yue Yin Lou would also resume streaming. The two sides would first tentatively organize a friendly match.
If feasible, they would formally launch the plan, with both sides submitting whitelisted streamers. Streamers on the list could independently increase their interaction frequency, and both sides could harmoniously create small programs together.
So whether this “script” could proceed would depend on Nan Que and L. Lan’s performance.
He let out a long sigh.
Somehow, he’d actually ended up becoming a “spy.”
Nan Que didn’t know if he was the only “test subject,” but he could see why they had ultimately chosen him for such an important plan.
Not just because the incident originated with him.
But more because he was just an unknown new streamer who had recently joined the hall. If it succeeded, everyone could benefit.
Even if it failed, they could say he was overeager and ambitious, making it easy to cut ties without harming the hall.
Of course, this didn’t mean they were truly using him as a mere tool.
President Xue’s arrangement of Teacher Yin He as his chief assistant was like having the Buddha backing a little imp—if things got out of hand, he could always summon his master to save the day.
Overall, this plan had its pros and cons. If Nan Que performed well, he could climb the streaming ladder faster than others, but the path would also be steeper and more perilous.
Should he take it?
Nan Que didn’t need to think twice.
Go for it!
Why not?
He had never considered how far he would go in streaming or how much he could earn. Initially, it was just to fulfill a joke-like bet.
But now, with such an opportunity before him, taking it was a pure win.
Even if he fell, it wouldn’t be the end of him, right?
Nan Que opened his fan group, smiling at the mere hundred or so fans he had now.
Nan Que: Cotton Candies, congratulations—you’ve bought into the original shares!】
【Sweet Bean: Nan Nan, still awake? Why so excited?】
【Delicious Delicious: Hahaha, how much have you had to drink?】
Don’t Argue had just finished work and opened his phone to unwind with some videos when he saw the messages in the group.
【Don’t Argue: Gearing up?】
【Nan Que: Haha~ Just wait and see. I won’t let you down.】
【Don’t Argue: Well, good luck.】
That was just Nan Que’s nature—usually laid-back and lazy, but once he decided to do something, he’d give it his all. Regardless of the outcome, what mattered was having no regrets.
He opened his WeChat contacts and scrolled through them for a long time.
Zhang Zhe was his “godson,” so logically, he should bring him along. But Nan Que was still a newcomer himself, and it wasn’t appropriate for a rookie to lead another rookie. He needed to find a veteran to guide them.
Teacher Qing Chen and Sha Zi weren’t suitable either.
Master Yin He was his trump card—not something to play right at the start.
That left only one option…
Nan Que tapped open the chat with Xiao. Their conversation was still stuck on the image he had sent.
Nan Que: Teacher Xiao, could I invite you as a guest on my debut stream? (Puppy eyes)
Zhu Mingxiao finished his stream past 2 a.m. as usual.
After talking all day, his throat was starting to ache again.
He spritzed the “magic spray” twice, and it eased a bit.
The spray worked well, but it was expensive—a bottle cost two to three hundred, and it ran out fast, lasting only about a dozen sprays. He couldn’t bring himself to use it often, reserving it for when he had no other choice. Even then, he went through a bottle every few days.
Hall Manager Zhima Hu privately messaged him again, saying he could rest more once he hit his required hours, or his throat wouldn’t hold up.
How could he not know he needed rest?
His buddies teased him, calling him “Model Worker Xiao” or “Hardworking Xiao,” and he could only respond with a bitter smile.
Only after replying to the private messages did he have time to check Nan Que’s message.
Ignoring the invitation, he clicked directly on the image Nan Que had sent. It startled him so much he sat up straight.
It was a solo portrait of him.
Against a dark background, the audience seats were empty.
On stage, a spotlight shone on him as he held a standing mic, seemingly humming softly with his head bowed.
Bathed in the light, he glowed golden, his clothes adorned with translucent golden feathers.
The black and gold created an extraordinary contrast.
The world held only him.
And he was still singing.
If the group portrait with Little Feathers was a lively concert, this solo painting was his one-man show in an apocalyptic setting.
Zhu Mingxiao couldn’t help but glance around his surroundings.
The room after ending the stream was pitch black and utterly silent, with only his computer still on, its pale glow reflecting on his face.
He felt as if he had been seen through by a complete stranger.
Nan Que, just who are you?