Chapter 51: The 51st Day of Livestream Selling
The Pagar Grassland in the morning was muggy, like a giant blanket thrown over everyone’s head. The faint breeze skimmed perfunctorily along the ground, and only on very rare occasions could one feel the slightest trace of coolness.
Lin Zhao looked curiously at the unfamiliar world before him.
—Because of this plane’s unique nature, 1114 opened a two-way connection channel for Lin Zhao, a bit like a video call. Originally, this belonged to the Mastermind’s paid services, and required drawing a specific function card to activate it. But Lin Zhao had demanded it for free on the grounds that they had swallowed one of his planes.
The compensation item owed to Lin Zhao had actually already arrived. It was a dual-use external protective shield. It could resist attacks from enemies, and it could also protect the host from falling too miserably if he was hit back.
It looked rather useful.
But Lin Zhao still felt cheated. That was a whole plane. A whole plane! In the end, he only got one more functional compensation. And this was already the limit of the black-box manipulation that 1114 could decide on.
Host and system spoke in unison: “The Mastermind is so stingy! It’ll go bankrupt sooner or later!”
Ahem. In short, when the image of the other world first loaded, what first entered Lin Zhao’s eyes was a vast, withered-yellow midsummer grassland where there were more tumbleweeds than rational thoughts.
The sun had already risen high, evaporating all of last night’s coolness and leaving only straightforward, sharp, merciless light that pierced through the thin clouds. The sky was so blue it looked photoshopped, or like some cheap advertisement board that had just been washed with water and forgotten to have its texture map applied. Several bald vultures circled lazily at a great height, sweeping over the grassland mottled with withered yellow and scorched green.
In the distance, amid the broad emptiness carrying the dry scent of grass seeds, the wild bison herd had become slow-moving, silent silhouettes along the horizon. Even their calls seemed diluted by the vastness before him, reaching him only as faint, low hums.
And the protagonist right in the center of the shot was a brownish-gray, furry creature, about half the length of an adult’s arm.
A famous Blue Star meme immediately allowed Lin Zhao to identify the other party: a prairie dog, the kind that seemed to scream “Ah—!” Of course, it was said that prairie dogs did not actually call that way.
In any case, the creature now seemed to be trapped in the most bewildered stage of its mouse-life. It squatted on a slightly warm rock, neither foraging nor keeping watch. Its eyes were wide and round, its pupils shrunk into two tiny black dots. Its expression looked rather rich. In its shock of “Can this world possibly get any more damn ridiculous?” there were also two parts dazed blankness and three parts system crash from brain overload.
More confused than the prairie dog was Lin Zhao.
He controlled the camera and looked around. Aside from an injured lion cub, which was staring at him with extreme vigilance, there really was nothing within a radius of several meters.
Although before connecting to this plane, 1114 had already told him that this world was a little special, Lin Zhao never imagined it would be special on the level of Animal World.
Who was he supposed to livestream to?
Who was he supposed to sell goods to?
Did animals understand trade?
Animals certainly understood trade. At least the prairie dog before him did. Wei An finally came back to his senses. No matter how the people from his hometown had contacted this place, he absolutely could not let go of this only lifesaving straw.
It was just, it was just…
The prairie dog discovered in despair that right now, he could neither speak prairie dog language nor human language. And the only one who could speak human language was currently trying to drag its wounded, crippled body over to bite his only hope to death.
How could there be such an ungrateful lion? The prairie dog did not understand. The prairie dog was greatly shocked.
But there were always more solutions than difficulties. Wei An used all the effort of his lifetime to work his brain, and he really did find a good way to communicate with his fellow countryman—digging soil. He stuck up his round, plump backside and began frantically digging at the grassland with a frequency full of grief and indignation. In the flying dust, his movements were so swift they seemed to produce afterimages.
Lin Zhao finally saw clearly what Mr. Prairie Dog had dug out: three miraculous letters.
SOS.
Lin Zhao: “!!!” No matter how he looked at it, this did not seem like a coincidence.
While showing off the results of his hard work, Wei An also had to stop the little lion, which was already barely able to save itself yet still wanted to protect him. He pointed hard at his masterpiece toward the camera. In truth, he was not sure whether Lin Zhao could see the scene before him, but he had to try. When he saw Lin Zhao’s shocked gaze, he understood. The other party could see.
Heaven and earth were moved.
“Can you understand me?” Lin Zhao tried asking.
Wei An burst into tears and nodded furiously. Yes, I can understand you, brother. Sorry, I freeloaded your livestream so many times. I never spent even a single cent, just keeping you company. It was this little brother who failed to recognize Mount Tai. I never expected you to be this kind of expert. When I can go back, I’ll definitely send your workplace a silk banner—You saved my mouse life, ahhhhh!
And Expert Lin’s next sentence was: “Isn’t digging dirt tiring? Why didn’t you use a little twig?”
Prairie dog: “…” Right, why didn’t I use a little twig? Because I’ve been a prairie dog for so long I’m almost stupid now, woo woo. This time, he truly wanted to scream “Ah—!”
Unfortunately, when he actually opened his mouth, all that came out was a strange “qiu qiu qiu,” like a telegraph signal.
Looking at the prairie dog with an overly rich expression before him, Lin Zhao suddenly had a thought that even he felt was insane, but he still blurted it out: “Are you human?”
Wei An: “!!!” I am, I am, I am!
At that moment, his excitement, his exhilaration, and the belief that Chinese people should help Chinese people all flashed through Wei An’s mind at top speed. It also made him flail even more, incoherently wanting to communicate with Lin Zhao.
Unfortunately, an even greater problem stood eternally between the two of them.
Wei An could not read or write.
Ahem. To be precise, he could understand Chinese, but he was not very good at writing it. Because he was an overseas Chinese who had naturalized and returned to China. This could actually be seen from his name. How many people had the surname “Wei”?
He had been adopted by foreign parents, but they had always encouraged him to rediscover his own culture.
Even more despairingly, his Chinese was not very good, and his English… was not very good either.
Because the parents who adopted him were Spanish. He had grown up on the Iberian Peninsula. Aside from Spanish, he also knew a little Portuguese, but when facing a pure-blooded Chinese person like Lin Zhao, speaking Portuguese did not seem particularly helpful.
As for Wei An’s writing level, how to put it? It was like when everyone wrote letters to foreigners on behalf of Li Hua. You could not say he completely did not know how to write, but if you said he could write very well, that would be pure nonsense.
This fish who slipped through the net of nine years of compulsory education could not help but recall the summer when he had been filled with excitement, preparing to return to China. His tutor, an overseas student, had earnestly advised him: You can’t think that just because you can communicate fluently in Chinese, you don’t need to study writing seriously. One day, sooner or later, you’ll need it.
Back then, all he could think was: I don’t like reading books anyway. I only like scrolling through foreign TikTok.
Now, he finally understood how much painstaking thought his teacher had put in.
But when the time came to use knowledge, he regretted having too little. Now Wei An wanted to cry but had no tears. His greatest effort was only: “I, China!” The words he scratched out intermittently on the ground with a little twig were missing arms and legs, like a hopeless illiterate.
But Lin Zhao understood.
He actually understood!
He truly had a connection with mice!
“You’re Chinese?” Even at this point, Lin Zhao still did not think Wei An was illiterate. He only thought Wei An had trouble controlling his prairie dog body. “You transmigrated?”
Oh, no. More likely, it was caused by natural energy. In this world, all kinds of bizarre abilities existed, so transmigration naturally was not impossible.
Wei An could only cheer wildly for Detective Lin. Yes, he had transmigrated. He would never forget that day. Under a friend’s introduction, he had entered a barbershop in Hangzhou and found a very confident Tony. Then, in the mirror, he received a version of himself that looked like a white radish spirit.
He had originally returned to China for his club’s youth training program, coming to discuss cooperation with the country and prepare to revive Chinese football. Now, he could probably only revive the grassland.
Oh, right. The grassland had someone literate. The only lion who could speak might also become his future shift partner. Wei An hurriedly pointed at the lion, wanting Lin Zhao to help save the child. It was still only a child!
Lin Zhao wanted to help too, but the problem was that the drawback of the trading system was right there. One had to exchange goods for goods before 1114 could send something over.
And looking around, what did this vast grassland have?
Just as Lin Zhao was about to speak, Wei An, who always liked sudden flashes of inspiration, had already made a choice between himself and the little lion’s fur. He used his entire coat of fur to exchange for trading points.
Facing a prairie dog that had instantly become genuinely naked, Lin Zhao worked hard to swallow back the words he had originally wanted to say: “Just use the grass around you to trade.”
Trading points could be used to buy healing potions. Wei An could no longer care about why Lin Zhao, a native Blue Star person, could sell potions. He only saw the product description for the potion—able to heal all ordinary wounds except severe injuries, but unable to heal wounds caused by magic, spiritual energy, radiation, and so on. Even the wasteland people said it was good.
Lin Zhao also tried his best to give this fellow countryman of his a pile of necessities within the limits allowed by the rules: mineral water, bread, and so on. In any case, whatever he had on hand, he sent over.
Wei An, who had not eaten normal food in three months, nearly burst into tears on the spot when he saw the snow crackers.
The talking little lion did not speak again from beginning to end. On one hand, it really had no strength to say much. On the other hand, it was also accepting and digesting the information before its eyes. It could not understand what Lin Zhao was saying, nor could it understand the Chinese Wei An wrote on the ground, but it understood the transaction between them.
It also understood the changes in its own body after Wei An poured the potion down its throat in one go.
He had been trying hard to save it all along.
It was unknown whether it was because the lion could speak, meaning it could communicate, or because Wei An had the confidence of someone from his hometown coming to his rescue, but Wei An was no longer so afraid of approaching the fierce beast cub before him.
Not only was he no longer afraid, but while eating snow crackers and petting the big cat, he—this little mouse—felt that this life was worth it. At the same time, he righteously “qiu qiu qiu”-ed to say: Since you drank my potion, from now on you’re my shift partner. Got it?
The little lion obediently nodded. “Okay.”
Wei An: “!!!” You can understand me?
Author’s Note:
Nonsense Mini Theater:
Wei An: Have you ever seen a completely bare prairie dog? Now you have. None of you came for nothing.
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