Chapter 85: Xiao Si's Nemesis

Seeing so many people entering, Zhao Jing quickly edited the stream’s description, making it clear that tonight was only a rehearsal to test the equipment. Next Saturday at 8 p.m., there would be a special live performance if the weather was clear.

After the written explanation, Zhao Jing picked up another microphone and, in the overbearing, brash tone her fans knew so well, snapped, “Whoever said I was dead just now—what’s your problem, you jerk? Need me to burn some paper money for you tonight? If you’re a guy, you probably can’t find a wife down there anyway, so maybe I’ll burn you a blow-up doll. If you’re a woman, I’ll send you a cucumber.”

At the sound of Zhao Jing’s sharp and clear voice, the chat exploded—

“Jing Bro is a real man, tough as steel!”
“Jing Bro’s here! Awesome! Worth coming!”
“Hahaha, Jing Bro, I want a cucumber too!”
“The guy above, why do you want a cucumber? Planning to use it for something… unusual?”
“Jing Bro, show your face, let us bask in your glory!”
“Calling all the rich fans—shower Jing Bro with rainbows! Make her show her face!”

Zhao Jing was about to say not to send her rainbows when—whoosh!—two brilliant rainbows lit up on the screen, sent by familiar faces from her fan leaderboard.

She quickly said, “Don’t send me rainbows. I won’t show my face even if you do. If you want to see me, wait for next Saturday at 8 p.m. I’ll do a live show at Salome Cafe on the rear HN Road. If you’re in the capital, come support us! No tickets needed—just order a coffee and you can watch the whole show. Or, if you’re shameless, stand there and watch for free, that’s fine too. If you’re not in the capital, don’t worry—I’ll stream it live on Qingtian. If you like Jing Bro, tune in that day. I promise you won’t be disappointed! If you want to send gifts, save them for then.”

Many in the chat grumbled:

“Jing Bro, you’re such a tease! Stop stringing us along!”
“Jing Bro, can’t you just show your face? Did you get plastic surgery or something? Or did you get uglier?”
“‘Get uglier’? She’s always been ugly! Let her show her face so we can see.”
“I’m starting to think… maybe Jing Bro sold her account? This isn’t her, is it? Why doesn’t she ever show her face?”
“Damn, my rainbow was wasted! Now I’m starting to think Jing Bro’s been replaced. The voice is similar, but she never does ads. Is someone just imitating her?”

Seeing more and more doubters, Zhao Jing scoffed, “You can’t provoke me. I said I wouldn’t show my face, and I mean it. No matter what you say, I won’t. But I can show you my hand.”

She extended her slender, delicate hand toward the camera, opened her palm, then made a fist. “Pretty, isn’t it? These jade-like knuckles aren’t just for show—they hurt when I punch. Keep running your mouths, and I’ll punch you all.”

“Jing Bro, please punch me!”
“Get in line for Jing Bro’s punch!”
“In line too! To die beneath the peony, to be a ghost and still be dashing!”
“Jing Bro, you win! Fine, forget showing your face, but at least tell a Xiaosi joke?”
“Yeah, tell a Xiaosi joke! Only by telling a Xiaosi joke can you prove you’re the real Jing Bro—the arch-enemy of Xiaosi!”

“You want a Xiaosi joke? Fine, I’ll tell you one. Once I’m done, stop bothering me—leave if you want, or stay if you want to watch us test the equipment. Oh, almost forgot—let me introduce the uncle on camera.”

Remembering to introduce Huang Guolun, she pointed her jade-like hand at him. “This uncle’s glasses look ridiculous, but he’s not blind—stop calling him that. You know how they say there’s hidden talent among the people? He’s one of those hidden musical geniuses—‘genius’ is not an exaggeration! He’s the music producer for the newly released online film ‘Destined to Be a Corpse.’”

Zhao Jing seized the chance to plug the film: “‘Destined to Be a Corpse’—has anyone seen it? Type 1 in the chat if you have… None of you? You’re so behind the times! It’s the best zombie movie in China! I’m not exaggerating—it’s insanely good! Go watch it on any major video site. I just watched it this afternoon and I’m still buzzing. Haven’t seen a domestic film this exciting in ages. The soundtrack is amazing, all done by Mr. Huang here, including the theme song—he’s super talented!”

Being praised on camera, Huang Guolun felt awkward and waved a hand. “Enough with the compliments, I’m going to the restroom.”

Huang Guolun got up and left the frame. Zhao Jing laughed, “Mr. Huang’s just shy, but his musical talent is exceptional. Next week’s music special at Salome Cafe is his solo show—I’m just the host. If you love music, don’t miss it or you’ll regret it forever. When we do the sound check later, I’ll have Mr. Huang sing for you—he’s amazing!”

While Zhao Jing talked him up, the netizens weren’t impressed.

By now, the stream’s audience was nearing a thousand—almost all hardcore Jing Bro fans who’d come through the platform’s notification. They were there for Zhao Jing, with no interest in some ‘talented uncle.’

“Jing Bro, we came to see you, not to be grossed out by some old guy!”
“That ‘blind uncle’ is less interesting than people-watching on the street.”
“Jing Bro, hurry up and prove you’re Xiaosi’s nemesis! Tell a joke! I’ve got my stool ready, just waiting for the show.”
“Front row selling stools, beer, drinks, sunflower seeds, peanuts—any takers?”
“Jing Bro, is the Okamoto Humidifier a new kind of condom?”
“I’m sneaking out of overtime just to watch you—stop with the movie ads already, tell us a joke!”
“Jing Bro, enough with the ads, time to be the comedian!”

Faced with the never-ending barrage of mixed-quality comments, Zhao Jing kept her composure, tamping down her growing irritation.

“You’re all so annoying! Can’t I just talk for a minute? You want a joke? Fine! Listen up! Afterward, get lost if you want, just stop bothering me!”

She was beautiful and fierce—this was her style. Zhao Jing didn’t care and would roast anyone as needed.

But when it came time to tell a joke, she delivered earnestly. She found it fun—amusing herself and others.

After a moment’s thought, she shared a joke she’d never told before:

“This one’s another story about Xiaosi and Yao Ming. One day, Yao Ming comes out of the bathroom and everyone notices his pant leg is wet. They ask him why. Yao Ming is troubled—every time he uses a public restroom, someone recognizes him and shouts, ‘Isn’t that Yao Ming?!’ And then his pant leg gets wet. As soon as he finishes explaining, Xiaosi comes out of the bathroom with wet hair…”

“66666666666!”
“666!”
“Definitely Jing Bro! Xiaosi’s nemesis! Haha!”
“Am I too innocent? I don’t get the joke—what does it mean?”
“Haha! No doubt it’s the real Jing Bro!”
“Xiaosi got roasted hard by Jing Bro.”
“Xiaosi must’ve stolen Jing Bro’s boyfriend! No other explanation!”
“Jing Bro, what’s the deep hatred between you and Xiaosi? Tell us and let us laugh!”
“Haha, Jing Bro, except for that time of the month, you’re nothing like a girl!”
“Better question: other than not getting periods, when is Xiaosi ever like a guy?”

…

Huang Guolun returned from the restroom, still wearing his signature black sunglasses.

Zhao Jing ignored the chat and turned to him, composed. “Mr. Huang, let’s continue. Try the guitar and see how the mic picks up.”

Huang Guolun pulled out the spruce acoustic guitar Zhao Yan had prepared for him—the classic for folk songs.

He sat back in front of the camera and tried the tuning—it was perfect. Someone had clearly tuned it earlier.

He gave Zhao Yan a thumbs-up, signaling the guitar was great.

Zhao Yan, who had straightened up from Huanzi’s broad back, flashed a dimpled smile, curious what Huang Guolun would sing.

Huanzi and the others were also eager.

Huang Guolun, holding the guitar, looked even more the part than when he played percussion.

He casually strummed a few notes, and a dreamy melody drifted into everyone’s ears.

Listening through noise-canceling headphones, Zhao Jing frowned slightly and gestured, “Lower your mic a bit, and move closer to the guitar—the sound is distant right now.”

Huang Guolun adjusted the mic and played another snippet. “How’s this?”

“It’s good now,” Zhao Jing gave an OK sign. “Try singing a bit to test the pickup at this distance.”

“What should I sing? Any requests?” Huang Guolun asked Zhao Yan, Huanzi, Liu Xiaowei, and the others. He hadn’t prepared anything special—he’d sing whatever they wanted.

After Zhao Jing’s joke, the viewer count only grew—nearly two thousand now!

The chat, thinking Huang Guolun was talking to them, erupted with requests:

“Have the blind uncle sing ‘The Ferryman’s Love’!”
“It has to be ‘Love Is a Transaction’!”
“Jing Bro, can we get ‘Blessed Trio’?”
“Jing Bro, ask the uncle if he can sing ‘I’m Just a Legend’—I love that song!”
“Sing Eason’s ‘Long Time No See’!”
“I’m really into Jay Chou’s ‘Tornado’ lately—can you do that?”
“With that look, he has to sing ‘The Most Dazzling Folk Style’!”
“‘Song of a Hero’! ‘Song of a Hero’!”

Zhao Jing glanced at the chat and snapped, “Enough with the noise. Song requests are next Saturday—today’s just a sound check, no requests from you.”

In the café, Liu Xiaowei made a suggestion. “Can you sing Zhou Shen’s ‘Big Fish’? I think it’s beautiful.”

Zhao Jing almost wanted to jab him with a toothpick, scolding, “You’re doing this on purpose, right? How is Mr. Huang’s voice supposed to sing ‘Big Fish’?!”