Rebirth 02, the Celestial Being Told Me to Stop Pretending

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On the day the blog went live, a strong wind blew through Beiping.

Chen Ming and several programmers worked two consecutive all-nighters, their dark circles resembling those of a purebred panda.

In addition to the standard architecture, the technical team worked overnight to build a special page for the celebrity, complete with a bold avatar frame, a unique background color, and a pinned comment section.

At 10:00 AM, Zhang Guorong's blog was launched and the first blog post on the entire internet was published.

The content is a photo, a selfie taken on the balcony of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, with Victoria Harbour in the background.

The angle was a bit off, and the lighting wasn't great, but you could vaguely see ships on the sea and the densely packed high-rise buildings of Kowloon on the opposite shore.

The caption below the photo reads: "The weather is great today."

Within two hours of its release, the article had garnered over 100,000 views.

Four hours, 300,000.

...

Chen Ming sat in front of the computer staring at the backend data, his hands trembling with excitement.

"President Lu."

"What's wrong?"

"The server is about to break down. The concurrency has exceeded the design limit."

"What about the backup server?"

"Only two units..."

"First, switch the static resources to the CDN. Then contact the data center and borrow an empty machine from the adjacent rack."

Chen Ming was taken aback: "Borrow?"

"Borrow first, then buy. Go quickly."

Chen Ming ran back to the technical department.

Lu Jianguo was adjusting the server in the server room, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his forehead covered in sweat.

The server room was buzzing, with dozens of blue indicator lights on servers lined up in a row, and the air smelled of burnt electronic components.

"The server room said there are three empty machines next door, so we'll move them over first."

Lu Jianguo wiped his sweat: "Bring over the test environment server as well, just to temporarily fill in. We'll switch back to the new machines when they arrive tomorrow."

"Uncle Lu (since both the young and old Mr. Lu are here, we'll call him Uncle Lu), we're going to have to lay out all our savings."

"Take it out. I'll buy it tomorrow."

By the next morning, Zhang Guorong's blog post had over 1.8 million views.

The comments section was packed with people from Hong Kong, mainland China, and even Southeast Asia.

Some people wrote "Brother, I love you so much" in traditional Chinese characters, some wrote "Finally, there's a place where I can see you" in simplified Chinese characters, and some wrote "Leslie, we love you" in English.

Looking at the backend data, Lu Chen picked up his phone and sent a text message to Zhang Guorong.

"Brother, it's almost reached two million views."

About five minutes later, Zhang Guorong replied: "Then I'll send another one."

Albert Yeung called in the afternoon.

Lu Chen was leaning back in his chair rubbing his temples when he heard the phone ring and picked it up.

"What instructions does General Manager Yang have?"

"Ah Chen." Albert Yeung's voice carried a heavy Hong Kong accent, with the faint hissing sound of burning cigars in the background. "I wouldn't presume to give instructions, but your blog seems quite impressive."

"You flatter me with your small-scale efforts."

"All of Emperor Entertainment's artists can join. You name your terms."

Lu Chen put his feet off the table. "Are we even negotiating terms?"

"Rules are rules," Albert Yeung said. "Go ahead and explain."

"Content autonomy. Emperor Entertainment cannot interfere with the content creation of its artists."

"What do you mean?"

"A blog is an artist's personal space. If the company interferes, that's called a press release."

Albert Yeung exhaled a puff of smoke. "Okay, content is up to you. But if there's any negativity..."

"The artists are responsible for their own actions. Coordinates only provides the platform and is not responsible for reviewing posts." He then added, "But posts can be deleted."

"Can."

"Mr. Yang, I have another request."

Tell me about it.

"We guarantee that all artists under Emperor Entertainment will not touch on sensitive topics and will not make any toxic remarks."

Albert Yeung remained silent for a few seconds, as if pondering the meaning of those words.

"No problem, we actively embrace the policy."

After hanging up the phone, Lu Chen wrote in his notebook: Emperor Entertainment Group has moved in.

Exclusively authorized by Hong Kong entertainment content, including behind-the-scenes footage, concert clips, and interview videos, all exclusively available on Zhuoban Video.

Li Lu, standing to the side, saw these two lines of text.

"Mr. Lu, your tactic is called 'borrowing a hen to lay eggs' (meaning using someone else's resources to achieve one's own goals)."

"Yes." Lu Chen put down his pen. "We'll use the chickens from Hong Kong to lay our eggs."

Li Lu's lips twitched.

"Mr. Lu, when did you learn to joke around?"

"I learned it from Wang Yan. That guy has a foul mouth, and I'm influenced by his company."

Liu Yifei posted her first blog post in the evening.

She has been experiencing life in Harbin for some time now.

I get up at four o'clock every morning without fail to do my morning exercise, and then I ride a bus with the early shift bus driver.

Lu Chen asked her to experience life, and she really did go through with it, with only a small assistant by her side.

Her mother, Liu Xiaoli, was born in Harbin. If she were to come along, it wouldn't be a true experience of life, so Liu Xiaoli was allowed to move around freely.

After finishing her early morning bus ride, she wandered around Central Avenue.

He was wrapped in a military overcoat, with the collar turned up to cover half his face, and wearing a mask, only revealing his eyes.

The cobblestone streets of Central Avenue gleamed from being walked on, and the Russian-style buildings on both sides were all domed with onion-shaped roofs.

She stood at the entrance of the Madier Ice Cream Parlor and bought two popsicles.

The popsicles were sold in insulated boxes, and they were steaming when they were taken out.

She took a bite; it had a strong milky flavor, and the ice shards crunched between her teeth.

A middle-aged woman selling grilled red sausages nearby looked at her and said in a thick Northeastern accent, "Young lady, aren't you afraid of getting diarrhea eating an ice pop in this freezing weather?"

With an ice pop in her mouth, Liu Yifei mumbled, "I'm not afraid."

The older woman looked her up and down, then suddenly leaned closer: "Hey, aren't you that...that TV actress? What's her name again...?"

"No, no, you've mistaken me for someone else."

The older woman looked at her with some skepticism, then turned to attend to other customers.

Liu Yifei squatted on the side of Central Avenue, holding an ice pop in her left hand and a grilled sausage in her right.

The outer skin of the grilled sausage is grilled until crispy. When you bite into it, there's a sizzling sound, and the meat juice mixed with the aroma of garlic bursts in your mouth.

The sweetness of the popsicle and the saltiness of the sausage battled on the tip of the tongue, making it impossible to stop eating.

A guy from Northeast China who was passing by glanced at her and muttered, "This girl's got guts."

Liu Yifei didn't understand what "tiger" meant, but she guessed it probably wasn't a good thing.

She took out her phone, a Nokia 7610, with a one-megapixel camera, which was considered top-of-the-line at the time.

I took a picture of the popsicle and sausage in my hand.

The photo was taken casually; she had eaten half an ice pop and taken two bites of a sausage, with the background being the cobblestone street of Central Avenue and her dirty army coat sleeves.

Then she opened the coordinates blog and uploaded the photos.

The caption read: "Ice popsicles in Harbin are for winter, and so are red sausages. Eating them together is simply irresistible. Wu Zhizhen also said they were delicious."

After sending the message, she put her phone back in her overcoat pocket and continued squatting by the roadside, munching on a red sausage. The wind blowing in from the Songhua River made her shiver.

What she didn't know was that after the blog post was published, the backend data started to surge.