DLRC – Chapter 15 A Screen Full of Flowers

She withdrew her gaze and gave the little boy a gentle smile, though in her heart she was so thrilled she wanted to spin around and leap into a full 180-degree jump.

“Oh, sorry—I knocked on the wrong door.”

The little boy, shy in front of the pretty big sister, scratched his head and softly closed the door. Yu Wei descended the stairs, still smiling, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

The woman on the first floor had already finished cooking and gone inside. The brothers from “Summer Wine” were helping their mother collect the laundry at the door. The sky was turning dusky, with clouds gathering ominously—looked like it might rain.

The time showed 1:30 p.m.—still quite early. She didn’t feel like going home yet, and figured if it started to rain, she’d just take shelter under a nearby awning.

The comment section could no longer be described as just “blowing up”—that would be an understatement. From the footage in Yu Wei’s livestream, it was clear that none of the places she had passed looked like they were part of a film set.

Anyone who had ever been on a set or worked in production would know that real filming locations are often very small. What looks like a vast set in TV dramas is usually a cleverly pieced-together illusion.

But Yu Wei’s livestream was different—it was undeniably strange. Viewers had watched her walk from the start of the stream, down two or three old alleyways, to a tube-style apartment complex near a chemical plant, and now out onto a main road for a leisurely stroll.

And every bit of scenery really was different. Within a radius of several kilometers, there wasn’t the slightest slip-up or inconsistency.

If this was all a film set, then how loaded must the production team be?

The scenery along the way left the audience on the other side of the screen utterly speechless. More and more people were appearing on the street now, and everyone acted completely natural. Adults and children, all kinds of outfits, the occasional vintage bicycle gliding by—every detail screamed eerie authenticity.

Could the streamer have really traveled back to the 1980s?!

With more people on the street, even more flooded into the livestream. The viewer count had jumped from just over 80 at the beginning to 3,098 now—and it was still climbing rapidly, with one or two new viewers joining every few seconds.

Newcomers, unaware of the context, would stick around and soon witness Yu Wei’s earlier actions. They would then go absolutely wild in the comment section, feverishly typing away to tell the confused newcomers just how bizarre all this was.

There was even a round of “civil voting” underway in the comments.

【Should we believe the streamer or not?】

【I believe her.】

【I’m staying cautious… though I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.】

【This is too freaky. Didn’t you see how natural those people were?】

【So you’re telling me that background actors these days are this good?】

【Come on, say it with me now! Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony!!】

【You, upstairs—enough already.】

The fiercer the battle in the comments, the wider Yu Wei’s smile grew.

She didn’t fear commentary—she feared no commentary. The more heated the discussion, the more it meant this livestream was a smashing, complete success!

Debate brought traffic. And traffic brought more people in.

Looking at the screen flooded with flower animations—well, not all flowers now. Most of them were little feathers, a few 10-yuan candy drops here and there, and even a couple of 20-yuan little rainbows!

Her heart surged with excitement. Then she glanced at the bottom-right corner of the screen—“288”, shining bright. She wanted to transform instantly into a mega-hot streamer, raking in thousands a day.

Forget worrying about dinner—at this rate, she could pack up and move into a new place tonight!