TGPA Chapter 11 The First Step
"I walked past you alone, without any words to say to you. I dare not look at you, oh, face!"
"The sunset on the horizon once again reflects on my face, reflecting my restless heart. Why is this place still so desolate? The endless journey is so long."
"I have to walk from south to north, and also from white to black. I want everyone to see me, but not know who I am."
By eight o'clock in the evening, Chen Hao had been on the stage singing four times, one song each time, with an average interval of seventy-five minutes per session.
During these few hours, excluding the initial eight sets of the 520 "Song God" gifts from Ye Zitao, he received a total of gifts worth two thousand five hundred yuan, with actual income of over four hundred yuan. Among them, Ye Zitao's contribution was over a thousand yuan. In the last three queue sessions, she showed her support by flooding the screen with clapping hands emoji, each time sending eighty-eight sets.
The number of fan club members increased to fifty-eight.
And this afternoon, the online audience of "Golden Melody Singing" never dropped below three thousand. After six o'clock in the evening, there were even instances of the screen being flooded with requests for Haozi to sing after climbing the queue. However, most of the climbers were seasoned, and only after stabilizing the popularity of the channel did they pay attention to the voices asking them to leave. They came over to increase their exposure, which led to an increase in the interval between each time Chen Hao went on stage.
Ye Zitao had privately messaged him more than once: "You should have your own livestream room."
Similar messages also appeared on the public screen: "Anchor, when will you have your own livestream room? I'll definitely tune in!"
"Is the official blind? Such a good singer, and they still make him climb the queue here. They should give him an official channel slot and give him enough time to perform properly."
"Upstairs is right!"
"Anchor, at what time do you climb the queue? Please other anchors make way and don't climb the queue. If you block the way, you'll die."
"Agreed!"
"Upstairs, 666!"
With four songs, Chen Hao had conquered a considerable number of people. Along with some fun-seekers, the "Golden Melody Singing," which was on the verge of being shut down, became lively again at the end of this golden autumn. However, this also left the channel controllers feeling helpless, as many visitors spoke in a not-so-friendly tone, praising one moment and criticizing another. They all had the right to climb the queue, as determined by the official rules. Today, there were many anchors climbing the queue who usually only half-heartedly participated, but today, all of them came over. Apart from the weekends, "Golden Melody Singing" rarely had more than thirty climbing anchors.
This Haozi was worth paying attention to—she was the sub-channel administrator of "Golden Melody Singing."
Haozi, a temporary contract anchor newly signed by the company, had no livestreaming privileges yet, let alone her own livestream room. Today, she received gifts totaling thirteen thousand yuan. More to come tomorrow. — Chen Hao, contract anchor, data department administrator of "Joyful Times" signed by the company.
Chen Hao didn't have many friends added, nor did he create a livestreaming group. He wasn't very familiar with these things, nor was he good at communicating with a large group of strangers to make them like him more. One Ye Zitao had filled his afternoon queue climbing time with chatting. He just earnestly sang for everyone and tried to find some songs during the waiting time.
This afternoon once again confirmed that the future under absolute strength is unlimited. I don't need to shout for attention after going on stage, nor do I need to use words to connect emotionally. I just need to sing my songs well. Originally, my account had just over three thousand followers, but after a day and a half of queue climbing on "Golden Melody Singing," it grew to six thousand. In the future, a brighter future will beckon to me.
"Haozi, add me on WeChat. I'll bring a few girlfriends to listen to you sing tomorrow." Faced with Ye Zitao's request, Chen Hao hesitated for a moment before adding her WeChat. Unlike some anchors he had seen who would go all out to flatter someone who sent them a lot of gifts, he simply sent an emoji to confirm their friendship and then shut down his computer to rest. This old configuration couldn't bear long hours of work.
It was already seven thirty, and climbing queue qualification lasted until eight o'clock. It wasn't possible to get on stage before eight o'clock, so he decided to come down. Chen Hao didn't know that after his account left the "Golden Melody Singing" livestream room, in just ten minutes, not to mention the random typing on the public screen, the sub-channel that had reached over three thousand four hundred people dropped to two thousand eight hundred. It couldn't be said that these six hundred people were all Chen Hao's fans; rather, they felt that after hearing a good voice, listening to some karaoke-level singing was boring, so they went elsewhere.
Of course, this afternoon, there were also attacks on Chen Hao on the public screen, and he was cursed in private messages. Put it three years ago, he would have been unable to bear it and would have retorted, "Damn, is my good singing making you ashamed? If you're ashamed, just stay down below and don't come up here to snatch queue time." Such small channel still had haters. In addition to the anchors on the same channel, there were also their relatives, friends, or guild staff members who were specially invited to provoke Chen Hao's mentality. Having seen too much of the fickleness of the world over the past three years, he wasn't invincible in terms of mentality, but at least he could completely ignore the influence at this level.
Turning off the computer and the lights, Chen Hao stepped out and came to his parents' room. It was past seven o'clock and no one had disturbed him, so he knew exactly why. Over these years, the profession of internet broadcasting, known as grassroots celebrities, had gained recognition. Not only would people not treat it with strange looks, but they might even think, "Who knows, maybe my kid will become a big star someday."
"Dad, Mom."
Chen Yuanping leaned against the heated brick bed, smoking and watching TV, while his mother, under the lamplight, was sewing quilts. The end of the farming season came early this year; otherwise, Qiao Xinmei wouldn't have called her son back. She couldn't bear to have her son, who she hadn't seen in years, come back only to help with chores.
Waiting to sell corn, waiting to turn a year's harvest into money—this was also the announcement that the countryside was about to enter the slack season. Of course, for hardworking families, they would continue to be busy until the snow fell. There would always be various odd jobs to be done. However, compared to the fatigue of the busy farming season, this was a relatively relaxed time for Chen Yuanping and his wife.
"Stay a while. Dinner's in the pot, let me get it for you."
"No need, Mom, I can do it myself."
The dishes were leftovers from yesterday's feast. There were two dishes and a rice bowl in the big pot. One plate contained selected leftovers from yesterday's dishes, and the other plate clearly had today's freshly cooked twice-cooked pork.
Of course, Chen Hao wouldn't tell his mother not to bother cooking for him tomorrow. It would be useless even if he did. These subtle touches of affection were best remembered by children. When the day comes when your elderly parents lie on the bed and need your care, being able to recall these moments of affection and treat your parents with half of that affection would make you a dutiful child.
"Son, will you always eat dinner at this time in the future?" Qiao Xinmei watched her son gobble down his food and quickly handed him a large cup of lukewarm water that had cooled considerably, feeling sorry for him—it was almost eight o'clock.
"Today is the first day. Just call me when dinner's ready at home tomorrow. Most of the time over there, I'll be waiting."
"Oh. Slow down, my child. No one's competing with you. Eat more, you're too thin."
In a mother's eyes, her child is always too thin. She wishes she could make them eat all the delicious food. Only mothers feel satisfied with such thoughts.
The family had an unspoken agreement not to bring up the past. Whether it was Chen Hao in Yanjing or his parents at home, after dinner, Chen Hao wanted to wash the dishes but was pushed away by his mother. She went to the kitchen to wash the dishes, and the three of them sat side by side, watching TV together. It was a very homely atmosphere, and there wasn't much to talk about. Occasionally, when there was something interesting on TV, they would comment on it together. It didn't feel like a family that had been separated for over three years.
At nine thirty, his mother made the bed, still muttering about getting a TV for her son's room. They had never been in the habit of staying up late, but their son was different. Young people nowadays liked to stay up late.
Chen Yuanping was still the typical old-fashioned patriarch of a Northeastern rural family. He clearly wanted to talk to his son more, but he didn't take the initiative. In his heart, he agreed with what his wife had said. Otherwise, with his temperament, when his second daughter wanted to buy a TV, he would have scolded her fiercely.
"As long as there's a computer in my room, I don't need a TV. I'll take a bath and watch a movie before bed."
"Oh dear, maybe the water isn't hot enough. Let me boil some more for you." Qiao Xinmei worried that the hot water stored in the warm pipes upstairs and downstairs might not be hot enough, so she put on her coat to boil water for her son. As for making the bed, that old man could do it himself. She hadn't attended to her son yet.
"Mom, lie down and rest quickly. I'm not a child anymore, I'll do it myself. Besides, these years of practice haven't been in vain. I've been taking cold showers in both winter and summer, which has been good for my health."
Stepping out into the upper room, the late autumn night wind was harsh and cold. Chen Hao hurriedly ran a few steps and rushed into the "washroom" on the side of the lower room.
This cold wind was not enough to dispel the warmth from the family. On the first day of his return home, Chen Hao felt very comfortable. It was a hundred times more comfortable than his life in Yanjing. Watching his father's appearance and listening to his mother's caring nagging, he felt that nothing in the world could compare to this happiness.
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