A live stream that dramatically transformed a depressed schoolgirl shocked netizens across the count

Shen Qingci walked a dozen steps along the riverbank, the bluestone beneath his feet darkened by the morning mist.

At the intersection leading to the Rainbow Bridge, the eaves of the houses intertwine, and sunlight filters through the gaps in the tiles, spreading across the river.

The wooden oars parted the water, creating a soft, fragmented sound. Shen Qingci stopped.

Chen Lang turned his head to the side.

"The guide tells us to go to the right."

"I know."

Shen Qingci opened the notebook, pressed the tip of her pen against the paper, crossed out the original arrow, and wrote next to it: "First walk the path of light."

"I want to go to the left."

She closed the notebook, lifted her skirt, and stepped down the stone steps.

Chen Lang glanced at the crowd of tourists on his right, then looked at the stone-paved alleyway on his left, which was lined with stilted houses.

There are more people on the right, and more phone cameras, so it's easy for people to guess which way you'll take.

The left side leads to the river bend, with residents coming and going along the way. The alley also has bends, bamboo baskets, and clotheslines, making it easier to shake off paparazzi.

He put his phone in his pocket and followed them.

A bamboo basket by the door was hanging halfway out. Chen Lang stepped over it and casually moved the hanging rope of the cured meat aside.

"Manager Shen, we've changed the route at the last minute. Do we need to report this to me?"

"Keep this report."

Shen Qingci turned to look at him.

"I'll decide the path."

"Okay, the power transition went pretty quickly."

"You said it yourself, I'll decide the route."

She quickened her pace after she finished speaking.

The boatman's rough voice echoed from the river.

"We've reached the shore! Can someone lend a hand?"

Shen Qingci lifted her skirt and stepped over two stone steps. Her shoes sank into the puddles, splashing water into the cracks in the stones.

She ran for a while, then turned back and stopped.

Chen Lang was stuck between the clothesline and the bamboo basket, holding onto the crooked vegetable basket next to him with one hand.

He moved the obstructing debris aside and emerged from the gap.

"Running this fast, it even shook off the navigator?"

"I'll wait for you when I turn around."

"Standing still is what it means to wait."

"Then you have long legs, walk faster."

Sunlight fell on her. The wind lifted the brim of her straw hat, revealing half of her profile.

Chen Lang glanced at her twice, then strode after her.

The black levitating ball rose from the side pocket of the backpack and stopped at the height of the eaves.

The camera pans across the river, the stone bridge, and the wooden boats moored on the shore. White smoke rises from the rice noodle stall at the alley entrance, and the stall owner wields a wooden spatula, chopping sugar cubes with a crackling sound.

Chen Lang turned on the device.

[Live stream area has been locked.]

[Residents' private screens are automatically hidden.]

[Door numbers, license plates, residents' faces, and interior views will be automatically obscured.]

The number of online users in the upper right corner has been steadily increasing.

[Is the wandering god not following the guide today?]

Where is this river bend? The camera angle is just so pleasing.

[Qingci will lead the way; we'll listen to her today.]

Chen Lang transferred the administrator privileges to Shen Qingci.

"You take the camera."

Shen Qingci took the communicator, raised her wrist, and steered the camera away from the half-open windows on either side.

"I'm not going to any tourist attractions today."

She had just run, and her breathing wasn't completely steady yet; her voice was still a little breathless.

"We walked through public alleyways and only filmed the roads, the river, and the outside of the shops."

The screen was quickly filled with comments.

Let's fly inside the stilted house and take a look!

[Everyone wants to know what looks like inside after just a few seconds of filming through the window.]

[Paying to watch a live stream, but not being able to see the room?]

That's where they live, why should they let you see it?

Being able to walk through alleys doesn't mean you can take pictures of other people's homes.

The debate was escalating rapidly, and Shen Qingci's hand stopped at the top of the screen.

The levitating ball circled the river bend and flew past a propped-up wooden window.

The square table, the old bamboo mat, and the children's clothes hanging in the corner of the room were quickly brought into view by the camera.

Titan immediately intervened.

[A resident's private screen has been detected and has been blocked.]

The scene is cut to a whole stretch of river water.

Chen Lang raised his arm.

The suspended ball stopped at the outer edge of the stone bridge.

"Close-range flight is off."

[Public photography areas have been redefined: the river surface, public roads, and shop facades.]

[Cut the camera as soon as it's filmed by the window? That's a bit too much of a no-no!]

We didn't go inside.

Chen Lang looked at the camera.

"Fenghuang is where people live their lives; we're just guests here for fun."

"Whether the equipment can fly through the window depends on whether it should fly at all."

The comments were still arguing, but he didn't respond.

The boatmen who were hauling in their nets by the stone bridge looked up.

"Young lady, you just said that all these buildings are guesthouses?"

Shen Qingci walked to the public stone steps.

"The travel guide says it's a riverside guesthouse area."

The boatman tossed the dripping fishing net onto the wooden stake and gestured with his chin toward the wooden building behind him.

"Those buildings are all inhabited by locals."

"Firewood is stored on the first floor, and the whole family lives on the second floor. Tourists, please don't look into the house when you pass by."

Shen Qingci looked at the row of wooden buildings, then glanced at the floating sphere.

She opened her notebook and added a line below the route: The information needs to be verified with the locals.

"I misspoke just now."

She turned the camera back.

"This is a residential area; the guidebook is wrong."

"You can walk on public roads, but you can't take pictures inside houses, and you can't use windows as scenery."

The boatman's hand, which was holding the net rope, froze in mid-air.

The woman pounding glutinous rice cakes next to her straightened up and said with a smile:

"They were quite quick to admit their mistakes."

Chen Lang manipulated the levitating ball to avoid the crowd.

"She's in charge of the routes now, so if she goes astray, she has to correct it herself."

Shen Qingci held the communicator in front of him.

"Don't try to cover for me."

"Do I need you to speak on my behalf?"

"Okay, you do it yourself."

Chen Lang raised his hands and stepped back two stone steps.

Shen Qingci opened her notebook in front of the camera.

Three lines of text were added to the paper:

Don't take pictures inside the window.

No photos of residents entering or leaving the premises.

They did not inquire about the residents' situation.

She held the notebook up to the camera.

"Please feel free to take photos in public areas."

"You can take photos of the stilted houses from the outside, the riverbank, and the stone steps."

"If you want to film someone's daily life, ask them if they're willing first."

[Support Qing Ci. 】

It turns out that people have been living in these buildings all along.

I'm retracting my earlier statement that I could pay to take pictures of the interior.

[A photo of the boatman packing up his nets is more appealing than an empty house.]

Travel livestreams should show you things you don't normally see.

Chen Lang glanced at Shen Qingci, tapped the screen a few times, and pinned the rules to the top.

[Public roads may be filmed, but private residences are not; residents must obtain their consent before being filmed; live streams will not reveal their real-time residence locations.]

He turned his head to the side.

"Let them argue for a bit first."

"Once the argument is over, everyone will know where the boundaries are. If we shut down the broadcast now, it would make us look guilty."

Shen Qingci tapped the communicator and turned the camera towards the center of the river.

The boatman unfurled the fishing net, its bluish-gray surface spreading out in mid-air before falling into the water, splashing up a ring of white foam.

Steam rose from the rice noodle stall as bamboo tongs scooped up the noodles, broth dripping down the edge of the pot.

Students carrying schoolbags ran across the moss-covered stone bridge, and the wooden boats under the bridge turned sideways to make way for passing ships.

Shen Qingci continued walking along the alley.

"These stone steps connect the riverbank to the residential area; locals use them to buy groceries and go to school."

"The bridge ahead is narrow, and when the boat docks, pedestrians have to walk close to the wall."

Chen Lang lowered the suspended ball.

As someone walks towards us, the camera turns towards the river.

As Chen Lang passed the bamboo pole, a floral bed sheet was hanging in the middle of the road. He reached out and moved the sheet aside to make room for pedestrians.

Shen Qingci asked:

"Can I take pictures here?"

"You can film, but keep the camera low and don't include the names on the children's school uniforms."

You're quite the thinker.

She lowered her head, the pen tip moving back and forth on the paper, her shoulders rising and falling gently with it.

The bluestone slabs at the end of the alley gleamed in the sun.

She lifted her skirt, jogged over, and stopped at the bridgehead with her heels.

Chen Lang lagged behind by more than ten steps.

"Aren't you going to wait for me again?"

"I've waited this time."

Shen Qingci stood at the bridgehead and raised her hand towards him.

As Chen Lang approached, the notebook on the outside of her backpack was sliding down. He reached out and supported the leather cover, pushed the notebook back into the bag, and fastened the clasp.

"Things are about to fall."

"I'll collect it myself."

"I've already put it away."

Shen Qingci immediately withdrew her hand after touching the metal clasp.

"Consider it as you completing the task ahead of schedule."

"A navigator's job also includes reviewing route information."

"We'll just go wherever the road takes us today."

"Then I'll be in charge of keeping an eye on this casual route."

The sound of wooden oars stirring the water could be heard from under the bridge.

Shen Qingci didn't touch the notebook, but simply pointed to the blue brick bridge not far away.

"Let's go that way."

"What's the reason?"

"bright."

Chen Lang looked in the direction she pointed.

The bridge arch divides the river surface into two parts, one light and one dark, with patches of light falling on the gunwale and slowly moving with the current.

This reason wasn't included in any guides, nor was there any backup plan.

Chen Lang withdrew his gaze.

"Okay, whatever you say."

The trend of comments on the screen also changed.

[It turns out that people walk through the residential alleyways every day.]

Filming these everyday moments is more interesting than filming empty houses.

[We support not entering the house or knocking on the window.]

Remember to replay the scene where the boatman pulls in the net.

Chen Lang added to the camera:

"Next time I encounter a local who wants to be in the camera, I'll ask them first."

"We'll film it after they nod."

"As soon as someone waves, the camera immediately turns away."

Shen Qingci turned the page and carefully wrote down these three sentences.

The strokes were slow, yet the back of the paper was pressed with shallow marks.

An old man wearing a straw hat leaned against the stone bridge railing, holding an old-fashioned oil-paper umbrella in his hand, with a coarse cloth bag at his feet.

He witnessed the entire process.

After Shen Qingci put away the notebook, the tip of the oil-paper umbrella tapped on the stone railing.

"Girls know a lot about rules, but they've misunderstood the area."

Shen Qingci took two steps closer.

"Where did we go wrong?"

The old man raised the umbrella handle and pointed it towards the river.

"You call this a tourist water street?"

"In earlier years, this area was called Dongshui'an. Boatmen unloaded their cargo and every household carried water here."

"Water Street is across the street, the name sounds similar, but the business there is nowhere near as good as it."

Shen Qingci ran his fingertips along the edge of the booklet.

"It was my oversight that I didn't investigate thoroughly enough."

"You can turn back if you take the wrong path, but it's deadly to go down a dead end."

The old man turned the tip of his umbrella, pointing it towards a dark alley two streets away.

"The old academy is over there."

"They don't include those fancy online guides, but they do provide practical items."

Chen Lang looked in that direction.

A rotten wooden sign hangs at the entrance of the alley, its paint peeling and mottled from the rain.

I could barely make out the characters for "academy".

A moss-covered bench was stacked in the corner, and the rustling sound of pages rubbing together could be heard through the crack in the door.

The old man's gaze swept over the two of them.

"Only by listening to mistakes can one truly understand the essence of the border town."

"Come with me."

I stepped onto the stone steps in my coarse cloth shoes.

Shen Qingci didn't look up the information, nor did she turn back to ask Chen Lang for a decision.

She pushed the communicator up, and the camera focused on the stone pavement.

The live stream footage showed only the blue bricks, the bridge structure, and the oil-paper umbrella.

"Keep the camera here."

Chen Lang swiped the electronic guide off the screen and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Today, it's all up to you."

The two followed the watery footprints left by the old man and turned into the narrow alley.

The oil-paper umbrella was folded up at the end of the dead end.

The wooden door panel is covered with carvings of varying depths.

A wooden sign hangs on the door frame, its edges already rotten.

The old man pushed the door open with one hand.

The door hinges emitted a dull creaking sound as the wood rubbed together.

Shen Qingci stood outside the threshold, staring at the half-line of writing revealed where the wall plaster had peeled off.

"Is this place connected to Shen Congwen?"

The old man turned around, his hand on the door frame.

"Once you get past this hurdle, then you can decide whether or not to broadcast it."

The suspended ball remained stationary in the alley.

Shen Qingci gripped the communicator tightly and stepped over the high wooden threshold with the soles of her shoes.

Chen Lang followed closely behind.

The door was closed, blocking the view from the outside.

The levitating ball strictly adhered to the instructions for location shooting.

In the live-streaming room with hundreds of thousands of viewers, only a tightly closed wooden door, a rotten wooden sign, and a patch of sunlight remained.

[Lang Shen and the others have entered the academy.]

Why don't you fly in?

If Qingci says he won't film, then he shouldn't film.

What's inside the door?