Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Mysterious and Powerful West Pavilion

Time had already moved into November.

November 6th.

Auspicious: bathing, demolishing houses, making sacrifices.

Inauspicious: marriage, traveling, moving to a new home.

Originally, Wang Mo was a staunch atheist and never paid attention to these so-called lucky days.

But Yuan Xiong said, “The company deliberately chose today, an auspicious day, for your livestream transformation. They hope it marks a brand new beginning.”

Wang Mo was surprised. “The company believes in that stuff?”

Yuan Xiong laughed. “Public opinion doesn’t matter. But tell me, which entertainment company doesn’t believe in it? Whenever a drama or film starts shooting, there’s always some unreported opening ceremony. Chopping a chicken’s head, burning yellow paper, offering incense to the gods—it’s all routine.”

Wang Mo hesitated. “I never noticed…”

He’d participated in several film and drama shoots before but had never paid attention to these rituals.

Yuan Xiong seemed utterly accustomed to it. “Better to believe than not. It’s not just the entertainment industry—nationwide infrastructure projects… cough, cough.”

He abruptly stopped, not continuing.

Wang Mo pressed, “Go on, say it!”

Yuan Xiong snapped, “Enough, or the book will disappear. If the book’s gone, you die too.”

A shiver ran down Wang Mo’s spine.

…

8 p.m.

On Douyin, “West Tower’s” livestream officially began.

Even without company promotion, within ten minutes, the number of viewers approached twenty thousand.

The audience was wildly enthusiastic.

“The great talent of West Tower is here!”

“Hurry up, I want to attend the class!”

“Haha, never thought I’d find such a treasure streamer on Douyin.”

“West Tower’s cultural knowledge trumps the entire Douyin livestream scene, doesn’t it?”

“After listening to West Tower’s last stream, I realized that boys don’t have periods…”

…

Backstage.

Yuan Xiong watched, his face full of emotion.

With less than half a million followers, the stream still managed to draw such a crowd. He had to admit, West Tower’s fans were genuinely loyal.

If West Tower’s follower count broke five million—or even ten million—imagine the possibilities.

By then, the stream’s popularity could rival that of top celebrities.

Once the time was right, reveal West Tower’s true identity. When everyone discovered that West Tower was actually Wang Mo, Yuan Xiong dared not imagine how explosive the reaction would be.

At this moment.

Wang Mo had finished reading the company’s streaming plan. With his own strategy in mind, he began connecting with viewers.

Indeed.

Tonight’s livestream core was this: randomly connect with viewers, then promise to fulfill one wish for each. As long as the wish wasn’t too outrageous, they’d make it happen.

Anything from wanting to dine at a Western restaurant to taking parents on a round-the-world trip…

“Rather similar to the way Zhang Da hosted his livestreams…” Wang Mo thought.

It truly was a potentially viral approach.

Of course, the key was that viewers needed to be quirky, eccentric, and unpredictable.

The appeal of Zhang Da’s streams lay in the unpredictable requests of his viewers.

Very quickly.

The first viewer connection succeeded.

It was a teenage girl, visibly excited. “West Tower, I want a signed photo of Hao Mingxing. I’m his fan—can you do it?”

Oh!

Such a wish was far too simple.

Wang Mo smiled, “No problem. I’ve already said, tonight my mission is to fulfill all reasonable wishes. I’ve noted yours. Please send your detailed address to me privately. I’ll send Hao Mingxing’s signed photo to you as soon as possible.”

Wow~~~

The stream erupted.

Clearly, Wang Mo’s promise stunned everyone.

Previously, they’d assumed West Tower was just a minor influencer who sounded like Wang Mo, and most followed him for that reason. Later, West Tower displayed remarkable talent, winning many over, and his voice became secondary.

Still, everyone believed West Tower was just a small streamer.

But now, he could easily get Hao Mingxing’s signed photo—something few could do.

Instantly, the excitement surged.

The stream’s viewer count shot up by thousands.

“Pick me, pick me!”

“Everyone, give Big Bear some face!”

“Damn it, I have to get picked this time. If I get connected, I’ll gift every viewer an Apple phone. Promise!”

…

Indeed, after the first real wish was granted, thousands of viewers rushed to compete for the next connection.

Again, a girl became the lucky winner.

She screamed, “I want Diva Xu Mengqi’s latest limited edition album, signed!”

The stream exploded.

“Whoa, bold request.”

“Xu Mengqi’s latest limited edition album is only five thousand copies, right? Already snapped up by hardcore fans. Now, the album sells for eight thousand apiece, unsigned. Signed copies are even rarer. Can West Tower actually deliver?”

Even Wang Mo paused for a moment.

He certainly knew Xu Mengqi, since back when he was at the peak of his fame, his popularity rivaled hers. But they had no personal relationship—just exchanged nods on a set once.

But in the next second, he saw Yuan Xiong nod quietly beside him.

Oh!

Old Yuan had quite the connections.

Wang Mo relaxed, smiled toward the camera, and said, “Alright, Xu Mengqi’s latest limited edition signed album will be sent to this young lady at once.”

This time.

The stream exploded completely.

Who was West Tower, really?

Getting Hao Mingxing’s signed photo was impressive enough.

But Xu Mengqi’s limited edition signed album?

Unbelievable!

“Who is West Tower?”

“He’s definitely not a regular streamer.”

“Is he a rich kid?”

“A rich kid doing livestreams? That’s hilarious.”

While everyone wondered about West Tower’s identity.

The third viewer connected.

This viewer, named “Sound of the Move,” appeared to be a young man in his early twenties.

This time, his wish left everyone stunned.

His voice carried a hint of scholarly elegance: “Mr. West Tower is a talent streamer, so I think our wishes should be related to culture and knowledge. I’m a senior preparing for graduate studies at Tsinghua or Peking University. My ideal mentor is Professor He Zhixing from the Literature Department. But I’ve heard he’s no longer accepting graduate students. So my wish is: if possible, I’d like to speak with Professor He or meet him, hoping he might accept me as his disciple. Mr. West Tower, can you fulfill this wish?”

Before the words ended.

The comments flooded like a waterfall.

“Bro, do you think West Tower is some magic wishing turtle? Will he grant any wish?”

“That wish is way too unrealistic.”

“You wasted your chance on something impossible.”

“You’re just making things hard…”

Yet.

No one saw Wang Mo, behind the faceless mask, raise his eyebrow upon hearing the young man’s wish.

Other requests, he couldn’t guarantee.

Even Xu Mengqi’s album depended on Yuan Xiong’s connections.

But this wish…