Chapter Seventy-Four: A Call from Brother Wang—"Hey Brother, Could You Bring Me Some Paper?"

After more than ten minutes, Little Daze finally arrived at the place where they were going to eat. She looked sullen and seemed a little unhappy.

“What’s wrong?” Bai Qingming was puzzled. She’d sounded fine on the phone just now—why the change now? So he teased her, “Whatever’s bothering you, just tell me. It might cheer me up.”

“Stupid man!” Little Daze shot him a glare before continuing, revealing what had happened. “Earlier, I was watching the commotion, but there were too many people around, and I couldn’t get close. I just heard others saying the person hit by the car was badly injured, with several broken ribs and a lot of blood.”

Indeed, these were only rumors she’d heard—she hadn’t seen it herself.

“And then?” he prompted.

“I came up with an idea.”

“What idea?” Bai Qingming took a bite of his skewer, filled with curiosity.

“I shouted that the injured person inside was my relative and asked everyone to make way.”

“Smart move! And what happened then?” For once, Bai Qingming felt this older woman was actually clever, though perhaps not in the most useful way.

“The crowd actually made room for me, and I squeezed in. But when I got inside, I saw the one who’d been hit was a villager driving a donkey cart loaded with fruit.”

At this point, Little Daze hesitated, as if reluctant to continue.

“Go on—what happened?”

“Don’t even mention it.” She hesitated for a moment before blurting out, “The person was perfectly fine. The donkey died!”

Hearing this, Bai Qingming froze for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, tears nearly streaming down his face.

“You dare laugh!” Little Daze felt thoroughly mocked by Bai Qingming’s reaction.

“Boss, bring more food! Everything on the menu!” she called out.

“Can you eat all that?” Bai Qingming was stunned.

“I don’t care if I can or not—you’re paying anyway!” Little Daze replied, indifferent.

Not far away, the barbecue stall owner was grinning from ear to ear. Tonight, he’d surely met a true benefactor.

...

The next day.

It was an ordinary day, but Bai Qingming received two consecutive phone calls.

The first was from Li Sanjiang, the operations manager at Tigger Bud.

He informed Bai Qingming that Tigger Bud would be hosting an event in a few days called the Kung Fu Carnival. This would be the fourth such event, and not just anyone could participate—only the most popular streamers received invitations, Bai Qingming among them.

Li Sanjiang was officially inviting Bai Qingming, making it clear participation was voluntary; no one would be forced.

If Bai Qingming agreed, Tigger Bud could confirm the list, announce it in advance, and use the participants’ names in their promotions to create hype and attract viewers.

To be honest, Bai Qingming was someone who preferred to keep a low profile, but attending would mean more promotion and exposure from the platform. With that, he’d get even closer to his goal of thirty million followers—there was no reason to refuse.

With that in mind, Bai Qingming agreed.

Soon after, Tigger Bud officially announced the Kung Fu Carnival and published the list of participating streamers.

There were many familiar names, all well-known in the streaming world. But when people saw Bai Qingming’s name, the comments section exploded.

“Spiritual leader: I’ll take on ten at once!”

“Bai Qingming: Not a single one here can fight.”

“Uzi, Zhang Daxian, and Yaoshui stormed out of the competition, cursing.”

“Professional players banned from competing!”

“Forget it, the King of the Singles Club is already champion!”

...

As the name suggests, the Kung Fu Carnival was all about martial arts. In practice, it meant setting up a ring where participating streamers would box. No one really knew why a live-streaming platform would venture into this territory, especially since the streamers weren’t professional fighters, but every time the event was held, it drew countless viewers.

The reason was simple: most people thought of streamers as quietly sitting in front of their computers. This event let viewers see a different side of their favorites, breaking old impressions.

Some even used the ring to settle personal grievances—for instance, during the second Kung Fu Carnival, the League of Legends top-lane streamer Poison Chronicle and Han Ye, who’d hit Challenger with Kalista in Season 1, went head to head.

They fought fiercely in the ring, shook hands offstage, and both the participants and the viewers thoroughly enjoyed it.

Of course, the real point of the event was for the platform to generate buzz and attract users.

...

Which brought up a new problem.

Thanks to his meteoric rise, everyone knew Bai Qingming had once faced down a murderer knocking at his door, dodged bullets in the flesh, and was a master of combat. If he entered, how could the other streamers even compete? Wasn’t that just bullying?

While netizens heatedly debated this, Bai Qingming received another call.

This time it was from the operations manager at Doyou, Tigger Bud’s competitor. When they saw news of the Kung Fu Carnival, Doyou’s officials couldn’t sit still. They quickly planned a music fan meet for a few days before the carnival and invited Bai Qingming as well.

The fan meet, though different in name, served a similar purpose—it was a chance to boost his popularity, and Bai Qingming agreed without hesitation.

Doyou’s official announcement soon followed.

Compared to the Kung Fu Carnival, Doyou’s fan meet stirred even greater excitement and anticipation among netizens.

On one hand, the Kung Fu Carnival was mostly male streamers—a bunch of burly men, violent scenes, not exactly cultured or safe, and possibly a bad influence on kids.

The fan meet, on the other hand, had a roster featuring some male streamers but was dominated by fair-skinned, attractive, and sweet-voiced female streamers beloved by the otaku crowd.

And Bai Qingming was on the list too.

From “The Song of the Single Dog” to “Bootlicker Disco,” his songs were endlessly popular, dominating short video platforms like TikTok and Kwai, with catchy tunes that stuck in your head.

Anyone who’d watched Bai Qingming live knew he was not only a talented singer but also strikingly handsome, with a huge female fanbase.

This time, the female streamers would draw in the otaku, while Bai Qingming would bring in female fans—a perfect formula for success. If this event didn’t go viral, it would be an injustice.

...

Meanwhile.

Bai Qingming suddenly received a video call from Brother Wang on WeChat.

Upon connecting, he saw Brother Wang’s side was dimly lit.

His first words were, “Bro, can you bring me some toilet paper?”

“What?” Bai Qingming was stunned.

Brother Wang’s voice sounded odd, and it wasn’t clear where he was—the echoes suggested a public space.

Then, Brother Wang’s weary voice came through the video again.

“Bro, I’m in a public restroom. Just now, some guy in the next stall asked what brand of tissue I was using that smelled so good, and if he could take a look. So I handed it over. And then… well, that’s it. The guy left. I’ve been squatting here for over half an hour now.”

Bai Qingming: “…”