Chapter 5: I Am a Cat, and I Too Know Hatred!

The industry research reports Lu Qingfei downloaded from Zhihu indicated that most new streamers focus solely on user acquisition, lacking content support, leading to low user engagement. Creating a content-driven entry point is the best way to attract new audiences.

Livestreaming, by leveraging the internet or mobile internet, uses video and audio to present content and interact with users in real time—thus, real-time interaction is also crucial.

Content plus interaction.

She pondered for a few seconds, then gently parted her lips: “Good evening, everyone.”

The comment feed was empty.

Lu Qingfei was unfazed and continued, “As we all know, cats and mice are natural enemies, but does anyone know how their enmity began?”

“Why would cats need a reason to catch mice? It’s in their blood, just like how your dad gives you a beating—no reason required.”

“Why is that? I’m curious.”

“Cats and mice were once good friends,” she said. “According to folklore, when the animals went to the heavens to compete for places in the zodiac—much like today’s talent shows—a group of animals vied for twelve debut spots.”

Lu Qingfei’s voice was clear and pleasant, resonating unhurriedly through the stream.

“The cat, who loved to sleep in, worried it would miss the selection, so it asked its good friend, the mouse, to wake it up so they could go together. But the mouse betrayed the cat, slipped away to sign up alone, and successfully made the cut.”

“From then on, the cat resented the mouse, and would chase it on sight. That’s why there’s no cat among the twelve zodiac animals.”

“So that’s how it is! No wonder people always say to beat a rat that crosses the street. Such a treacherous, unfaithful mouse deserves it!”

“Aaah, the streamer’s storytelling voice is so lovely!”

“Soga, competition for debut was already fierce, but being backstabbed by your best friend? If I were the cat, I’d hate too!”

The initial interaction went well, and the comment feed began to fill.

With the ice broken, Lu Qingfei smoothly shifted to her main topic: cultivating immortality live.

She adjusted the camera toward her desk, picked up her brush, and began to transcribe talisman techniques from memory.

The art of crafting talismans follows the doctrine of the mind: only by understanding the “id, ego, and superego”—the trinity of self—can one advance in cultivation.

“The id is our innate instinct, representing desire, restrained by consciousness. The ego is the rational part of a person, following the principle of reality. The superego is the judiciary branch of personality, overseeing morality, formed by one’s moral law and ideals.”

“Oh my, she’s brought out the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone! Is the streamer really cultivating immortality?”

“I must say, that calligraphy and that voice are truly a delight.”

“Streamer, are you some mysterious voice actor? Notice me, please!”

Lu Qingfei finished her writing, lifted her face, and offered a polite, gentle smile from her dark eyes.

“I’m not a mysterious voice actor, just an ordinary rookie streamer.”

“There are two types of talismans: those with curved lines, representing gentle energy, and those with straight lines, representing fierce energy.”

After explaining the basics of talisman techniques, Lu Qingfei’s slender, jade-like fingers rested on the black-and-white rice paper, and she smiled softly.

“I’m selling fasting pills in the stream—they reduce hunger and beautify the complexion. If you’re interested, feel free to purchase.”

“Oh my, when she smiles… I’m in love all over again!”

“The streamer is so kind. She could’ve just taken my hundred yuan, but she still wants to give me a pill—so touching, I could cry.”

“Fasting pills that curb hunger? Aren’t those just compressed biscuits?”

“Yeah, compressed biscuits—I could get twenty packs for a hundred yuan!”

Lu Qingfei glanced at the comments, her smile unwavering. She picked up her brush again, feeling the last trace of spiritual energy within her, gathering it in her palm as she wrote.

The stream was very quiet, but no one left. The audience was curious: what was she writing with such focus?

Calligraphy has been called poetry without words, dance without form, painting without image, and music without sound for a reason.

The characters flowing from Lu Qingfei’s brush were lively and ethereal, surpassing the grace of immortals.

“Her calligraphy is as striking as her presence—these characters are awe-inspiring, enough to move the heavens and spirits!”

“Streamer, if I order the compressed biscuits, could you send me your calligraphy as a bonus? Please?”

“You can do that? I want her calligraphy too—my grandfather loves the art!”

“While you’re all arguing, I’ve already placed my order!”

Seeing the fasting pills sell, Lu Qingfei felt a surge of joy, her smile steady.

A fine start to her business.

A glance at her viewer count showed over fifty people now.

The user retention for her first stream was pretty good.

After seeing so many chaotic, attention-seeking streamers on the Whale Platform, the audience found a unique, unconventional streamer rather novel.

And watching Lu Qingfei’s stream, the day’s troubles seemed to quietly dissipate. Moods lightened, and few viewers left.

With her first sale, Lu Qingfei’s stream shot straight onto the rookie streamer leaderboard—sixteenth place.

With increased exposure came more viewers.

Some newcomers were puzzled, others expressed understanding.

“The trend of immortal cultivation has finally reached livestreaming. It’s a rare flower in the streaming world.”

“These days, even sleeping streams get tons of viewers. So what if someone streams cultivation? Besides, the streamer looks like a fairy—her walking among mortals is practically cultivation in itself!”

“Streamer, streamer, I bought the fasting pills. Can you send me your calligraphy as well?”

Lu Qingfei set down her brush, responding breezily, “Of course.”

The cultivation method lay in the act of writing, in mindful comprehension. Afterward, the calligraphy no longer held any use for her.

As she finished speaking, Lu Qingfei’s gaze shifted—only to find her stream had gone black.

Too unscientific, perhaps… Had someone reported her?