Chapter 27: Thanks

Logically speaking, merely using Lin Shixia’s profile picture didn’t prove anything.

Gu Liuguang might have been desperate to meet Lin Shixia quickly. When she saw this obvious alternate account, she wildly suspected it belonged to Lin Shixia. Otherwise, why would it specifically use Lin Shixia’s profile picture?

Heavenly Dao exploded in popularity and acclaim. It went from four updates a week to just two, and even that got it scolded onto the Hot Search.

They had no choice but to issue a statement, saying they couldn’t withstand the audience’s enthusiasm and would add an extra episode each week.

Among them, the male and female leads of the drama garnered the highest popularity. Fans who shipped their CP were utterly intoxicated.

Lin Shixia, relying on her “exquisite” acting skills and her unmatched beauty with no substitutes in the entire entertainment industry, broke through the competition and fiercely gained a wave of fans.

In reality, Lin Shixia’s acting was merely passable. It was just that, contrasted against the male and female leads, combined with her character’s layered depth and compelling storyline, it led to frequent clips of her scenes being edited on Douyin.

There were even a few iconic moments. Whenever topics about ambiguous righteousness-evil characters or beauties came up, Lin Shixia managed to claim a spot as a newcomer.

Gu Liuguang had been in this world for over a decade. To smoothly complete her mission, she often had the System repeatedly recount the plot to her. Eventually, she could recite it from memory herself.

When it came to acting skills, Gu Liuguang binge-watched dramas every day—though she didn’t actually watch many dramas herself. While watching Heavenly Dao, she felt Lin Shixia performed exceptionally well, with strong immersion that made her suspect Lin Shixia might have some acting System.

Or perhaps the in-plot evaluations were inaccurate.

In any case, later on, Lin Shixia landed a few more dramas, each one elevating her status in the industry step by step, up until the literary film and an S+ variety show she took on.

That literary film and variety show were key plot points that heated up the relationship between Lin Shixia and Ye Qingying.

With just a brief moment of thought, Gu Liuguang felt this person just might really be Lin Shixia.

First of all, the power of the plot was incredibly strong—something no ordinary person could resist.

Zhang Xibai was a special case. They’d need feedback from the Main System, or wait until Gu Liuguang completed her mission and left this world before the Main System could intervene and investigate.

At least in the current situation, Zhang Xibai’s side storyline hadn’t collapsed too badly.

What if Zhang Xibai hadn’t called Lin Shixia over, but Lin Shixia had come on her own, summoned by the plot?

Otherwise, after creating an alternate account, why use anyone else’s profile picture? Why specifically Lin Shixia’s?

Lin Shixia’s lucky profile picture was only popular within her own fan circle. Outsiders barely knew it.

Lin Shixia had gained popularity now, mostly because people thought she was good-looking, but few would choose her photo as their profile picture.

After a brief analysis, Gu Liuguang felt this person was even more likely to be Lin Shixia.

She directly clicked “Send Message” and smoothly entered the chat window with the account named “Xi Xia.” The other party had already messaged first.

Xi Xia: Little Light, hello. Can I add you on WeChat?

Without thinking, Gu Liuguang sent over her WeChat ID. She was still live-streaming and couldn’t keep hiding in the back with her phone, slacking off.

Though her team was very accommodating, and she wasn’t particularly eager to grind for money or great at maintaining relations with fans and the boss, she still needed to stay in the team for now. She couldn’t afford to seem like a troublemaker on the surface.

After sending the WeChat, she quickly switched to her alternate account and, sure enough, received a new friend request.

She only had time to see the requesting account name—still Xi Xia—with the same Douyin profile picture of Lin Shixia.

She wanted to check Moments, but before she could, operations told her to put her phone away.

Just as she set her phone down, Zhang Ze started playing the dance segment she was responsible for.

After seeing the WeChat ID, Gu Liuguang became even more convinced this was Lin Shixia. Her anxious heart, which had been uneasy for so many days, finally settled by a large margin.

The System had never explicitly stated the mission deadline, but before she and the System reached their agreement, it had emphasized that mission failure would erase her consciousness, and missions had time limits.

Within the stipulated period, to prevent the host from lingering too long in the current world and developing thoughts like “it’s all the same wherever I am, I just want to live a simple life,” the System would detect “mission neglect” and terminate the host’s mission early, extracting the host’s soul from the world ahead of schedule.

This minimized the host’s impact on the current world.

Gu Liuguang had asked the System many times, but it always just told her to follow the plot. It never specified the deadline, which once made her doubt the System’s professionalism.

Now that she’d finally connected with Lin Shixia, it meant her mission had smoothly begun. She no longer had to worry every moment about her soul being extracted.

At that thought, the smile on Gu Liuguang’s face was unstoppable. Even her body no longer felt tired, and she danced with great vigor.

Especially the backbend section—when she bent backward, her waterfall-like long hair cascaded forward, then scattered as she rose, accentuating her fair skin with a faint pink glow, like smeared rouge, white infused with delicate red.

The dance segment lasted about ten seconds. After finishing, Gu Liuguang retreated to her original position.

Her outfit was self-styled. She hated to waste so many clothes by not wearing them, but since she’d received a new necklace today and wanted to highlight it, she borrowed from the company.

The company had multiple groups, and this one wasn’t performing well—ready to disband at any moment.

With so many groups, the company’s wardrobe styles varied wildly, from lolita to young imperial, mature imperial, even ethnic minority and Egyptian Dance styles—whatever you needed, they had.

They’d even stocked up on outfits based on recently viral Douyin dances. Xiao Yao had mentioned they’d gotten some Miao ethnic costumes and were now doing Nuo opera ones, convinced the company had made a fortune off Gu Liuguang.

Gu Liuguang rummaged for ages, needing something that matched the team’s style without being too lolita. She barely found a black hip-hugging miniskirt, strapless style.

Gu Liuguang felt a bit embarrassed wearing it. Her figure was already impressive, but this strapless skirt exaggerated it too much.

She stared at the mirror in the changing room for ages, feeling like she’d gotten implants—it was overly dramatic. She even doubted if her chest was really that big.

But time was short, and the stream was about to start. She could only cover her chest and head out.

Xiao Yao was waiting outside. She subconsciously checked Gu Liuguang’s look, but her gaze lingered on Gu Liuguang’s face for just a second before dropping to her chest. She blurted out, “Why’d you pad it? Isn’t it already… big enough?”

Gu Liuguang’s face flushed intensely. Her hands helplessly covered her chest as the blush spread to her neck. Her fair skin, tinged with that red, exuded a hint of sensuality down to the deep cleavage.

Xiao Yao tried hard not to look there, but her restraint lasted only a second or two before she glanced again. Soon her own face reddened, and she muttered softly, “I really want to bury my face in it.”

“What?” Gu Liuguang hadn’t heard clearly. She was still agonizing over the strapless skirt, wondering if she should just tell Zhang Ze and change.

In the end, she didn’t change the skirt. Gu Liuguang went on stage in it, but Xiao Yao tied a matching bow in front to cover it somewhat—otherwise, the stream would get banned, or they’d have to tape a tissue over the chest area.

It barely passed. The Blue Sapphire Necklace didn’t stand out as much, but Gu Liuguang had no attention left for admiring it. She kept thinking about covering her chest.

Only after finishing the dance did Gu Liuguang realize the strapless miniskirt slipped easily. It held at first, tightly gripping her waist.

Maybe it hadn’t been adjusted properly after the bathroom break. This time, while dancing, she had to tug it up now and then, leaving her no mind to check her phone. She just wanted to end the stream quickly.

She didn’t even pay attention to Zhang Ze mentioning the bosses fighting, merely quickly scanning the gift leaderboard.

After two full hours, Gu Liuguang finally used the bathroom excuse again. She discovered the strapless skirt was low quality—slipping was inevitable. Changing now was too late; she’d have to wait until after the stream.

Fortunately, in the latter half, Zhang Ze mentioned her less, perhaps noticing something was off. Gu Liuguang only danced once more, a simple hip sway, with the main focus on facial expressions.

Whenever the camera zoomed in on her face, the stream comments exploded. Clearly, they preferred the stunning beauty of Gu Liuguang’s face over her dancing.

Finally, Zhang Ze hinted a few times. Gu Liuguang got the cue, stood from the back, walked to center stage, and playfully “slapped” the camera a few times.

She didn’t quite understand everyone’s fetish for “getting slapped.” It felt inexplicably shameful.

Her expressions weren’t as natural as others’ while doing it.

At least she comforted herself psychologically and got through the motions. This was too perverted.

As the stream neared its end around one o’clock, normally Zhang Ze would say a few words, bid farewell, remind everyone to follow, and end it. But today, with the bosses fighting so fiercely, Zhang Ze even called Gu Liuguang to take the mic and say a few words.

The stream music was loud; without a mic and getting close, you couldn’t hear clearly.

As Gu Liuguang grabbed the mic, she heard Zhang Ze talk about the boss fight. They’d streamed normally today, with the bosses’ spending in the millions. She needed to maintain them well and mention the upcoming weekend PK Tournament.

The PK Tournament had already been discussed in the work group. Gu Liuguang had skimmed it—it was just a more brutal, direct way to extract money from bosses.

The pressure on streamers doubled as well.

Gu Liuguang didn’t really want to mention it, but thinking of Lin Shixia, she picked up the mic and gave thanks. She also followed Zhang Ze’s lead, mentioning the weekend PK Tournament and hoping the bosses would support her more.

After a pause, Gu Liuguang deliberately glanced at the camera.

Her fox-like eyes gazed affectionately at the lens, her voice intentionally lowered.

Her voice was already pleasant; now with deliberate coquettishness, it sounded even sweeter.

Her face flushed, speaking in a coquettish tone, as if amorous feelings had stirred: “Thank you, Sister Xi Xia. Sister Xi Xia, you have to come watch me this weekend…”