Chapter 4 – Trending on the Hot Search
Shi Cha’s good mood lasted all the way until his livestream the next morning.
Today’s stream content was a request from one of his viewers: to read an excerpt of a beautiful essay using a deep, steady “male god” voice.
When he saw the phrase “deep, steady male god voice,” the first person who came to Shi Cha’s mind was Lin Ran. So, with a bit of selfishness, he decided to directly imitate Lin Ran’s voice for the stream.
Head lowered, holding the book in his hands, Shi Cha didn’t notice that the usual quietness of his stream had completely changed.
Less than ten minutes after going live, the number of viewers online had already broken into four digits.
There weren’t many streamers who went live in the morning, especially since most big-name streamers only streamed in the afternoon or evening.
The sudden spike in popularity pushed his stream into a prominent spot on the platform.
As a result, even more people flooded in.
At that moment, the livestream chat was as lively as a New Year celebration.
[“Let me see which little green tea vixen dares to flirt with my boyfriend!”]
[“Huh? Wasn’t that “LR is the best” person a high-pitched girl yesterday? What’s with this guy now?”]
[“Oh my god, this voice sounds just like my Ran Shen! Is this one of those voice-acting pros? So yesterday that was actually a boy?”]
[“Is this person really the same “LR is the best” from yesterday? Are we sure we’ve got the right person?”]
[“I checked his previous stream videos. His in-game ID is “LR is the best,” but he didn’t upload yesterday’s stream.”]
[“……”]
[“I just got here. What’s going on with this streamer? Is there drama? But wow, the voice is amazing—followed!”]
[“Check the hot search: #BrotherLinRanLRIsTheBest#”]
The gossip-hungry crowd went off to dig up more information.
Yesterday, Lin Ran had teamed up with Chen Lu from Team LL at the LL base. Lin Ran had even appeared on camera in Chen Lu’s stream.
As the captain of a top-tier team, Chen Lu already had a huge audience, and with Lin Ran making a surprise appearance, his fans were quick to spread the news—rushing into Chen Lu’s stream en masse.
And so, over a million viewers in Chen Lu’s livestream witnessed someone with the username “LR is the best”—a green tea voice-acting trap—calling their beloved Ran Shen “Brother” for twenty whole minutes.
Before the match even ended, the livestream’s resident detectives were already digging into who this “LR is the best” really was.
At the same time, not everyone in Shi Cha’s own stream was happy with him.
[“Trash streamer from Cun Yao. Just look at that shady name! Why not call yourself [censored] while you’re at it! I already muted the stream—no one wants to hear that fake, squeaky voice. Can’t you straighten out your tongue and speak properly?”]
[““Brother”? You think you’re worthy of calling our Brother Ran Shen?”]
Of course, fans come in all shapes and attitudes.
[“Kind reminder to fellow Ran fans coming in—you should try turning the sound on.”]
[“555 (sobbing), I came here planning to roast this guy for flirting with our Ran shen! But now—I’m sorry, little brother. Could you please always stream with this voice? I’d totally come watch every day. I can’t see Ran Shen every day, but at least let me hear this voice and live vicariously!”]
[“+1”]
[“+……”]
After finishing the reading, Shi Cha closed the book, took a sip of water, and casually opened the chat to check if the viewers had found it boring or left any comments.
One glance—and he nearly spit his tea all over the computer.
[RanShenILoveYou]: [“Little brother, I want to hear Ran Shen’s voice again!”]
Apparently thinking three messages weren’t enough, the viewer named “RanShenILoveYou” even dropped ten deep-sea bombs (a high-value virtual gift) in the chat, hoping to get Shi Cha’s attention through the flood of comments.
[RanShenILoveYou: Little brother, I want to hear Ran Shen’s voice say ‘Be good, don’t make a fuss!’!!”]
The barrage of comments made Shi Cha’s scalp tingle and his toes curl in secondhand embarrassment.
His viewer count was no longer just a few dozen—it had exploded into five digits and was rushing toward hundreds of thousands.
With so many Lin Ran fans flooding his stream, Shi Cha didn’t need a genius to figure out that yesterday’s game must’ve been seen by a lot of people.
But Lin Ran didn’t even stream yesterday, and his own tiny channel of just a few dozen viewers shouldn’t have made this much of a splash… right?
Still, Shi Cha didn’t have time to think too much about it now.
Following the gift barrage from “RanShenILoveYou,” more viewers started sending him gifts as well, all making similar requests: for him to say more lines using Lin Ran’s voice.
The only difference? Everyone wanted him to say something different.
Shi Cha felt like he was about to be buried alive by the overwhelming flood of comments. He had to take several deep breaths before he could barely steady himself.
“Sorry.”
But right after speaking those three clear and clean syllables, Shi Cha suddenly realized—he had forgotten to use his disguised voice for the stream.
He paused, then silently gave himself a pep talk.
It’s fine. This is all something “Cun Yao” did. It has nothing to do with me, Shi Cha. Don’t be scared!
He gathered his courage again and used his usual youthful voice to explain to the viewers:
“Thank you all for the gifts. But I’m sorry, I can’t accept your requests. Ran Shen is my idol too, and I don’t feel right profiting off his voice. I’ll be refunding all the gifts you’ve sent.”
It was still that same bright and energetic teen voice, as if the sudden flood of viewers hadn’t disturbed him in the slightest.
…
Inside the nanny van, Lin Ran’s manager, Li Xin’an, was reviewing the itinerary while telling Lin Ran about the upcoming events and things to keep in mind.
He said quite a lot, but Lin Ran hadn’t responded once.
Turning to check, he saw Lin Ran leaning back in his seat, earbuds in, listening to something.
Ah, he had earphones in. No wonder he didn’t respond.
Li Xin’an reached over and tapped Lin Ran’s knee.
Lin Ran looked up, saw Li Xin’an turning toward him, and realized he had something to say. He took out one earbud and casually tapped the [Follow] button on the livestream app on his phone.
That morning, when he saw the trending topic on Weibo, he knew his fans were probably going to give that little streamer some trouble.
So just now, he had logged in with his main account and entered the stream, planning to step in if the fans got too aggressive and caused issues for the other person.
He hadn’t expected to hear the streamer reading aloud—in his voice.
But the situation was handled well. The streamer stayed calm, and the fans didn’t cause a scene, so there was no need for him to step in and bring more attention to the matter.
As for why he followed the streamer?
Lin Ran glanced down, the corners of his lips curving upward slightly.
Li Xin’an caught that smile and looked confused.
Was he watching a funny video or something?
Seeing Lin Ran put away the earphones and phone, Li Xin’an repeated the schedule he’d mentioned earlier.
Lin Ran nodded to show he understood.
Seizing the moment, Li Xin’an brought up that variety show again—the one Lin Ran had already declined.
“Lin Ran, Ran Shen, please just do Director Qi’s variety show. I’m begging you, okay?”
Lin Ran laughed and gave him a look. “You’re selling me out just to chase someone?”
Li Xin’an denied it immediately. “Don’t talk nonsense. Qi Jing and I are just old classmates. I’m doing this for your own good—to boost your popularity. All the stuff you’ve been working on lately doesn’t even show your face. You need to get out there before the fans forget what you look like.”
It was clear Li Xin’an was just making excuses.
Lin Ran thought about it. Joining the variety show wasn’t a bad idea—not for the popularity boost Li Xin’an mentioned, though.
Even if Li Xin’an wouldn’t admit it, everyone in their circle knew he had been chasing after Qi Jing for years.
On one hand, Lin Ran wanted to help him out a little. On the other hand, he also wanted to promote one of his own projects.
After all, after graduating from the directing department at A University, he had spent three years in the esports world, winning several championships. Though he had since returned to the film and television industry, he still didn’t have any standout works to his name.
Now, the project he had spent a year preparing was finally ready and had been submitted to an international competition. It was the right time to start promoting it.
Lin Ran said, “Sure.”
“You should think it over a bit more—” Li Xin’an started to speak again, but then realized what Lin Ran had just said. “Wait, you agreed? That’s great!”
But Lin Ran added, “Just for one episode.”
Li Xin’an quickly nodded. “Of course, just one episode. Alright, we’ve arrived.”
As Lin Ran got out of the car and headed to the event venue, meanwhile on Shi Cha’s side, the livestream had already ended. He was now diligently working through the platform’s backend system, refunding each and every viewer who had sent him a gift.
Streamers split their earnings from gifts with the platform. For small streamers like Shi Cha, the revenue was typically split 50/50.
Now that Shi Cha wanted to refund the full amount, the platform naturally wouldn’t agree to give back its share. And Shi Cha was too anxious to try negotiating with them.
Every time he had to deal with situations where the other party could see his real identity, his social anxiety would flare up.
So, Shi Cha had no choice but to cover the platform’s cut out of his own savings.
After refunding the last gift, he let out a huge sigh of relief.
He had kept his promise and returned all the gifts—but his savings were now nearly depleted. His mobile balance showed just 300 yuan left.
Shi Cha frowned as he stared at the screen and sighed quietly.
Those last 300 yuan probably wouldn’t last him more than a few days.
And his earnings from the past three months of streaming were basically negligible.
During these months, he’d been relying on money he’d saved during university.
Back in college, it was thanks to his extroverted friend Du Yan that he was able to get small gigs. Now, having to find work on his own was genuinely nerve-wracking.
Thankfully, the apartment he lived in was loaned to him by his older brother. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t even be able to afford rent and would end up sleeping on the street.
Clutching his phone, Shi Cha scrolled through his contacts, hesitating over whether or not to make a call.
If he did call, how should he start the conversation? What should the first sentence be?
Would it be too abrupt to directly ask for help finding work?
Should he make some small talk first?
But how should he even do that?
What wording should he use?
How did Du Yan usually call and ask about gigs?
Beep… beep… beep…
Suddenly, the ringtone went off, startling Shi Cha, who had been hesitating for half an hour.
He almost dropped his phone.
The call was from none other than Shi Cha’s only friend—the extremely outgoing Du Yan.
Even though Du Yan was his friend, Shi Cha still had to mentally prepare himself every time before answering his calls.
Just as the ringtone was about to end, Shi Cha finally tapped the answer button.
“Good thing it’s me calling. Anyone else would’ve hung up after thirty seconds of ringing…”
As soon as the call connected, Du Yan started chattering away at lightning speed.
Shi Cha only gave an occasional “Mm” in response, just enough to let the other person know he was listening.
Du Yan rambled on about the current lives of their former classmates since graduation, before finally getting to the main point—Shi Cha.
“So what the hell have you been doing these past three months? Don’t tell me you’ve really just been home growing mushrooms or something?”
Shi Cha scratched the smooth surface of the table with his finger, stalling. “I haven’t.”
“It’s almost noon. Come out and let’s grab lunch together.”
Shi Cha’s gaze drifted away, and he replied sluggishly, “No.”
Du Yan sighed. He knew exactly what kind of person Shi Cha was—if he could stay home, he absolutely wouldn’t budge.
“We haven’t seen each other in almost a month. Don’t you want to know if I’ve gotten fatter or thinner?”
This time, Shi Cha answered without hesitation.
“Nope!”
Du Yan: “…”
“Alright, fine. I’ll buy some groceries and come over to your place to cook. That work for you?”
The moment he heard he wouldn’t have to leave the house, Shi Cha readily agreed.
“Okay. You don’t need to buy groceries—I’ll start cooking now.”
Du Yan let out a long sigh. “I just wanted to drag you outside for a bit. You can’t stay cooped up at home forever without stepping out the door. At this rate, you’re going to grow mold.”
Shi Cha muttered, “I did go out yesterday!”
Going out once a week to do grocery shopping is still going out.
Du Yan didn’t need to think twice—he knew for sure that Shi Cha’s trip out was just to buy food and daily necessities.
He was really at a loss. How on earth was Shi Cha ever going to overcome his social anxiety?