Chapter 132: I Suggest Including This Song in Chinese Textbooks for Foreigners to Study

Obscure and difficult-to-pronounce Chinese characters flowed from Bai Qingming’s lips, accompanied by a frantic, rhythmic beat.

Every foreigner watching was left with a blank stare, their minds completely overwhelmed. It wasn’t just the foreigners; even the domestic viewers in the live stream were so shocked by the lyrical content that they were at a loss for words. For a long moment, the chat was completely silent.

Eventually, someone snapped back to reality and slowly typed two characters into the keyboard: "Holy crap!"

Once the floodgates of the national vernacular were opened, everyone else regained their senses and flooded the screen with messages.

"Can someone tell me what those lyrics actually said?"
"Is anyone else like me, only understanding the first part and being completely lost for the rest? Raise your hand."
"I can tell it’s Chinese, but I couldn’t write a single one of those characters if my life depended on it."
"Lyrics, please!"
"This is insane. Forget the foreigners; I dare say not a single compatriot here could transcribe this song."
"I suddenly feel a bit sorry for those foreigners."
"Thank goodness I didn't cancel my subscription in a rush; otherwise, it would have been a huge loss."

The atmosphere in the live stream reached a fever pitch. The volume of the chat was so dense that anyone with trypophobia would have felt their scalp crawl. Some of the impatient domestic viewers who had closed the stream earlier scrambled to return, only to realize that they were the biggest clowns of all, feeling nothing but regret.

The foreigners, meanwhile, stopped talking altogether.

"Is memorizing lyrics simple?"
"Who the hell said it was simple?"
"Come on, here’s a pen, you try writing it down."

Beyond the opening, they couldn't write a single character. How were they supposed to compete? They were done; it was pointless. This was simply playing dirty. At that moment, countless foreigners felt an unprecedented dread—a terror controlled by the sheer complexity of Chinese characters.

When the music finally ended and the full song was complete, the foreigners who had stubbornly refused to give up on transcribing the lyrics had a total breakdown.

"Is this really Chinese?"
"Though I hate to admit it, I shared this stream with a Chinese professor I trust completely, and he told me that while they are indeed Chinese characters, even he doesn't know how to write them."
"I give up!"
"Whoever tells me Chinese is easy from now on is going to have a fight on their hands!"
"My little brother just walked in and told me Chinese is the easiest language in the world, so I slapped him twice. Did I do the right thing?"
"My girlfriend said the same thing a minute ago. She’s my ex-girlfriend now."
"Help, I never want to learn Chinese again!"
"After listening to this song, Mom doesn't have to worry about my Chinese studies anymore, because I’m just going to quit entirely."
"Excuse me, I’m leaving!"

The foreigners sent messages one after another.

***

With this song, Bai Qingming had single-handedly upended their perception of the Chinese language. Everyone who heard it was thoroughly impressed, down to the very last strand of hair. In the chat, no foreigner dared to chirp up again. A single performance of "Obscure Characters" had completely suppressed the entire room.

Seeing the viewers' reactions, Bai Qingming felt satisfied. *Everyone’s convinced now, right? That’s all it takes.* This bunch of foreigners had forced him to use his ultimate move. They insisted on being difficult, and look what happened? Keep arguing! Why had nobody continued to argue? Damn!

Bai Qingming simply wanted to tell these foreigners: Chinese civilization has five thousand years of history. The language is far less simple than they imagined!

***

Unsurprisingly, Bai Qingming’s "Obscure Characters" exploded in popularity overnight. Trending on Weibo was standard operating procedure for him; if he didn't occupy the top three spots whenever he did something, he felt embarrassed to claim the credit.

Some hardcore fans stayed up all night, cross-referencing dictionaries to identify those obscure, difficult characters. They created subtitles for the live stream footage and uploaded them to short-video platforms like Douyin and Kuaishou, attracting countless views instantly.

"Oh my god, after listening to this, I feel like my ten years of schooling were a waste."
"It’s truly magical. None of these characters form a coherent sentence, but it just flows without any awkwardness."
"I’ll come clean: I’m illiterate. I don’t recognize any of these rare characters; I’ve returned everything I learned in school to my Chinese teacher."
"Don't even start; I *am* a Chinese teacher, and I don't know some of these either."
"I have a bold idea: let's include this song in the Chinese curriculum. Whenever foreigners learn Chinese, let them study this song."
"Damn, have some mercy!"
"My best friend is getting married tomorrow, and I’m the maid of honor. I’m going to make the groom transcribe these lyrics; if he misses a single character, he’s not taking the bride away."
"You’re such a good friend to her."
"I think you just don't want your friend to get married at all, right?"
"The best friend in China!"

There were tens of thousands of comments, all glowing with praise. Soon, "Obscure Characters" became the most used BGM on short-video platforms. Everyone who heard it became an instant fan. Some were still wondering who was so brilliant to create such a song, but once they saw who was singing, they were no longer surprised. Oh, it was *that* guy. Then there was no need to make a fuss.

***

The next morning, Bai Qingming woke up.

Opening his eyes, he saw sunlight filtering through curtains handcrafted by a renowned national designer—worth 50,000—shining onto the floor covered in a carpet custom-made for a foreign royal family—worth 80,000. He threw off his pure-goose-down-filled quilt, which was equally priceless, and breathed in the air of his hundred-million-dollar luxury apartment. Bai Qingming felt incredibly refreshed.

Something seemed to be missing, though. Oh, right, a maid in a maid outfit to wake him up. Wait, didn't he have one? He’d have to talk to the "old woman" about that; it was a possibility.

Stretching, Bai Qingming got up and went to the living room to talk to Dai Xiaomei. Just then, the TV was playing, and someone on screen was saying:

"Spread your legs, straighten your back."
"Use a split position, grab your toes with both hands."
"Breathe deeply, and hold for two to three minutes."

Hearing these strange instructions, Bai Qingming looked into the living room. The next moment, he became even more alert. In the living room, Dai Xiaomei was doing yoga along with the person on TV. Her tight yoga outfit highlighted her perfect figure, leaving everything on display, with some areas clearly defined. To clarify, this refers to her calves—don’t get any wrong ideas.

Bai Qingming was originally a man of high moral character; usually, he wouldn't watch in such situations, but since it was there to be seen, he stared for a while. It wasn't long, just over twenty minutes. Unconsciously, Bai Qingming began to drift off, daydreaming about something.

Dai Xiaomei noticed his reaction from the corner of her eye and couldn't help but feel smug. As expected, men were all lustful; one little tease and he couldn't handle it. Thinking this, she intentionally spoke up:

"You dog of a man, what are you thinking about?"

Coming back to his senses, Bai Qingming was stunned for a second.

"I was thinking about the dream I had last night. I think I dreamed of you."
"Really? Tell me, what did you dream about?" Dai Xiaomei was surprised, and a little happy.

Bai Qingming nodded and began to recount his dream with a serious face.

"I dreamed the sky was so pure and the sun so bright. I was standing by the deep blue sea, poked you with a little stick, and then said to the person next to me, 'Hey, look, there’s a turtle.'"

Dai Xiaomei: "????"