“She wasn’t even willing to buy a paper doll herself!…”
On the other side of the city, inside a simply yet stylishly decorated live-streaming studio, Tiger-ge—the “Big Brother of Spirit Exploration”—was sitting in front of the camera, drenched in sweat from the glare of the fill lights and overhead spotlights.
He was high-spirited and pitching products enthusiastically, growing hotter by the minute and having to pause every now and then to wipe away his sweat.
As the number one figure in spirit-exploration live streaming, Tiger-ge’s stream pulled in great viewership and sold products quite well, generally completing whatever daily sales quotas the merchants assigned him.
Tearing open a bag of duck paws, the aroma of spices rushed over him. He took a deep sniff and immediately put on an intoxicated expression.
If you’re in the live-streaming business, performance skills are an absolute must. When doing a spirit-exploration stream, you have to act terrified; when selling snacks, you have to act like you love eating them. To him, these were all tricks of the trade, completely effortless.
The duck paws were a bit salty, but to showcase how delicious they were, he gnawed away heartily while chatting with the people in the live stream, quickly polishing off two bags.
Though it didn’t show on his face, he was practically drying out into a human jerky stick.
He hurried to take a break, drinking water while pretending to scroll through the bullet comments to rest for a bit.
Little did he know, a whole bunch of comments in the chat were saying he was losing his touch. What was going on? Tiger-ge immediately glared at the screen and began reading the comments:
[Tiger-ge’s acting skills just got outclassed]
[His niche track is being overtaken; Tiger-ge is about to be left behind by the new wave on the beach]
[Tiger-ge is finished]
[Too bad beauty Vivian didn’t open a stream to sell duck paws. A beauty eating on stream definitely looks better than Tiger-ge gnawing on duck paws]
[I wonder if the paper doll in Vivian’s video actually looked up or not. Looked pretty spooky to me]
[VV made her very first video, and in just one day it broke 50k views. Tiger-ge couldn’t catch up even with a whip]
What the hell, who is this Vivian?
Tiger-ge pulled out his personal phone, tapped into Vivian’s spirit-exploration video, and checked the stats. The comment count was astonishingly high, and everyone was arguing about whether the paper doll actually looked up or not—
Quite a few people were posting frame-by-frame screenshots, debating how the wind blew. If the wind was what moved the paper doll, it should have followed a certain dynamic trajectory, and absolutely shouldn’t have produced a motion like lifting its head and looking directly at the camera.
Others used physical science and optical illusion principles to analyze at great length how the illusion of the paper doll looking up and gazing at the camera came about.
Though plenty of comments were arguing back and forth, the engagement was fiercely high—enough to make anyone green with envy.
Tiger-ge scrolled through while chatting with his viewers.
After finishing the video, he gnawed on a duck paw, rattled off a few advertising slogans, and then offered a very polite review: “Not bad, not bad. Having fresh blood in the spirit exploration genre is a good thing.“
The moment the broadcast ended and the video was turned off, Tiger-ge’s expression instantly dropped.
Frowning deeply, he stood up in annoyance and began bitterly venting to his assistant A-liang and a few others:
“Damn it, I was clearly the one who explored the haunted house fire first! None of my videos ever blew up like this.”
“These users just love pretty faces—so superficial! So completely superficial!” A-liang hurriedly chimed in. He had already known Tiger-ge was going to start swearing the moment he saw him watching that video. He had checked out the clip earlier himself, and to be honest, a pretty girl doing spirit exploration really did have strong selling points.
Vivian’s video had solid logic, good camera work, and slick editing. As a staff member, A-liang actually wanted to suggest that Tiger-ge sign Vivian to their company. However, seeing Tiger-ge’s eyes turn red with anger, he wisely kept his mouth shut.
“How come when I stream, not that many people praise me for being brave? What’s that about? Is my bravery worth nothing at all?! That paper doll was obviously bought by me, and the blood on its eyes was even dotted on after I poked my own finger!” Tiger-ge hammered the desk so hard it clacked loudly. While watching the video earlier, he had really had to exercise extreme self-restraint not to curse people out right during the broadcast.
“Totally, totally,” another staff member hastily put on an indignant expression.
“Even though my total video view count is higher than hers, how long have I been posting mine compared to her just dropping one a few hours ago?! And how long have I been doing spirit-exploration streams and videos?! I’ve already made a name for myself in the spirit-exploration community. She’s just a rookie, how can you even compare the two?! Why didn’t I get this kind of traction when I made my first spirit-exploration video?” Jealousy distorted Tiger-ge’s features; he felt like he was about to spit fire.
“Who would’ve guessed that ‘Did the paper doll actually look at the camera?’ and ‘Did the paper doll look up?’ could blow up into such a massive topic,” A-liang muttered, looking thoroughly baffled.
Tiger-ge’s anger still hadn’t subsided. He suddenly threw his head back and let out a reluctant, aggrieved roar:
“She wasn’t even willing to buy a paper doll herself!!!”
So infuriating, genuinely so infuriating.
…
Jiang Wei had no idea what kind of emotional turbulence her video had caused for a veteran big shot. She slept soundly through the night, and while brushing her teeth in the morning and scrolling on her phone, she discovered that an advertiser had sent her a private message to discuss a collaboration.
Taking a closer look, it was a duck-paw vendor.
How was a spirit-exploration streamer supposed to sell duck paws?
Were they supposed to live stream eating duck paws inside a haunted house? And weave in ad-reads midway, where the paper doll in the background lifts its head, and she turns around to ask: “Hey buddy, want a duck wing? Extra spicy.”
That was completely absurd.
Still, she added their contact info, deciding to meet up with them later—who knows, maybe they’d come up with a brilliant idea that wasn’t absurd at all.
Aside from business partnership inquiries, her inbox also featured messages from a talent agency specializing in managing up-and-coming creators. The other party spun things brilliantly, promising that creators only needed to focus on streaming and video editing while the agency handled everything else: ad partnerships, marketing and publicity, and even the cameraman team.
She wouldn’t have to manage a single thing, just collect the checks directly.
That sounded pretty interesting, so Jiang Wei also reached out to them. Even if it wasn’t a good fit for her, making new connections, negotiating, and seeing a bit more of the world was always a good thing.
As her day of classes drew to a close, the final session was Basic Performance—the class for which Jiang Wei’s spirit-exploration video served as the assignment.
Today’s agenda for Basic Performance was assignment critique. In the past, Professor Zhang would pick a few submissions as typical examples to explain common mistakes and major pitfalls to the class.
Since Jiang Wei’s spirit-exploration video had blown up, she was feeling pretty smug inside. She figured that even though the professor’s perspective when reviewing a video would differ from regular netizens, Shen Yang was someone who had undergone professional training in video shooting and editing, so a video backed by his skills should at least pass easily.
Seeing her classmates sitting at their desks looking tense and anxious as they awaited Professor Zhang’s verdict—every single one terrified of being singled out as a negative example—Jiang Wei hadn’t felt nervous initially, but now she couldn’t help starting to worry right along with them.
Luckily, nearly half the class period passed, and the review of flawed examples ended without her video coming up. It looked like she was in the clear.
Professor Zhang crossed her arms, leaned back against the whiteboard, took a sip of water, and then looked up to announce:
“For the remaining time, we’re going to appreciate three exemplary video submissions.”
The first student called out for praise was a male classmate who had shot a food-hunting vlog; the second student’s video was a past-meets-present interpretive introduction to Tianzifang’s old alleyways in Jianghai City. After the class finished appreciating those, only one final standout work remained.
Everyone was guessing whose project would take the grand finale slot. This time, the professor actually played it coy, without announcing or praising it in advance. Instead, she walked down from the front, pulled shut all the windows and curtains, and turned off all the lights.
The classmates couldn’t help whispering and buzzing among themselves: Why are we drawing the curtains and turning off the lights?
Is it going to be that atmospheric?
Jiang Wei also widened her eyes in bewilderment. What was going on? What kind of video required watching pitch-black in the dark?
“What’s happening?” Zhou Fuzhen, sitting right beside her, leaned over and grabbed Jiang Wei’s wrist.
“It looks like—” Jiang Wei’s voice abruptly cut off.
A burst of static electricity flickered across the black screen, and the imagery gradually materialized. In the dim environment, a pair of large sneakers stepped onto dilapidated concrete floors, marching forward with long strides.
The heavy panting of the person holding the camera in the video grew progressively louder, echoing throughout the classroom in full surround sound.
Suddenly, the camera jerked sharply upward. A flash of white human silhouette swept across the frame, finally settling and locking onto a gloomy, ghastly abandoned residential building.
“Holy shit, when the camera shook just now, did it catch a female ghost wearing white?” The male student sitting diagonally to Jiang Wei’s front turned his head to whisper to the classmate on his right.
“Looks like it did.”
The classmates’ attention was instantly hooked by the camera. The video grabbed everyone’s interest in just a few seconds.
Unlike everyone else’s curiosity and tension, Jiang Wei looked in sheer disbelief at Professor Zhang, who was standing against the wall by the side. Oh~ I never would’ve thought this final exemplary work was actually my video.
She had figured it would at least pass, but instead of just passing, it was actually selected as the grand finale showcase.
Just look at this opening atmosphere dialed all the way to maximum—that 800 RMB paid to Shen Yang was well spent. Good kid, he edited this piece really well.
The video gave the spirit-exploration location a grand reveal, panning from a wide shot into a close-up, and the main feature finally began. The camera slowly pulled back, finally locking onto the “female ghost” that had flashed past earlier—Jiang Wei, wearing her white trench coat, began her monologue facing the camera.
“Holy crap, isn’t that Jiang Wei?!” The classmates squinted closely, realizing it was none other than their usually low-profile Classmate Jiang.
“Wow, is she really this photogenic?” The male student in the front row couldn’t help turning around to look, only to realize that at some point, Jiang Wei had grown into such a stunning beauty. He turned back to watch the screen: under the hazy, cold lighting, Jiang Wei exuded a cold, commanding aura, looking half like a female ghost and half like a vixen.
The classmate sitting behind her grabbed the back of Jiang Wei’s chair, leaning in with a gasp of awe: “It was you all along.”
“That’s right, your grand-auntie here,” Jiang Wei turned her head to glare at him. “Focus on the screen.”
The classmate hastily pulled his hand back, and as he looked up, he saw Jiang Wei on screen staring straight into the lens with a tense expression, as if locking eyes directly with him.
Though Jiang Wei’s expression wasn’t overwhelmingly terrified, it made him subconsciously empathize with her anxious sense of impending doom…
An indescribable sense of oppression and an atmosphere of terror gradually blanketed the entire classroom.
A few minutes later, the fear value on Jiang Wei’s phone began to tick upward.
She could absorb the fear value of everyone sitting within a 4-meter radius centered around herself—roughly matching the range of that eerie domain when activated.
And in this classroom, sitting within that range around her were fourteen people.
Jiang Wei opened her domain to check on her classmates’ conditions—
Some students were tightly grabbing the arms of the person next to them with tense expressions; others had their eyes wide open and necks craned forward, completely focused like a turtle waiting for food; some had pulled in their shoulders and pressed their legs together, watching the clip with taut nerves; others were frantically rubbing their arms, as if trying to scrub away the goosebumps…
Seeing everyone’s reactions, Jiang Wei leaned back into her chair in high spirits.
With her classmates chipping in to make contributions, the original 53 points of fear value quickly ticked up to 60.
Counting her fear value, Jiang Wei accompanied her classmates in watching her own video all over again.
Once the video finished playing and the professor started explaining and critiquing it, apart from Jiang Wei who listened attentively, none of the other classmates were in the mood for the lecture anymore—they were all whispering to each other or chatting in group texts.
“Jiang Wei uploaded this video online. Wow, the performance is super good, the view counts are sky-high.”
“Woah, I’m so jealous.”
“What, what? What are you guys talking about?”
“Jiang Wei’s video went wildly viral online!”
[Did you guys hear? Jiang Wei’s video blew up online and she made an absolute ton of money. Don’t say I told you, I just heard it from another classmate.]
[How much is an absolute ton?]
[Gotta be tens of thousands, right?]
“Did you hear? Jiang Wei’s video broke out of its niche and made hundreds of thousands.”
“No way! No wonder she recently upgraded to a new phone.”
[Hey hey, let me share a secret in my small group chat. Just listen to it, don’t spread it outside.]
[What, what?]
[Didn’t Jiang Wei’s video blow up? Her copyright got bought out—rumor has it she’s getting it adapted into a movie, and the copyright fee is 7 figures.]
[Whoa—]
By the time class let out, the entire class knew that Jiang Wei’s spirit-exploration video had earned her an astronomical amount of money.
Yep, gotta be upwards of a million easily~
Author’s Notes:
…
Tiger-ge: “She wasn’t even willing to buy a paper doll herself!!!”
[Learn all about the… poverty-stricken college student who was too poor to buy her own paper doll.]