Then he left the livestream.
The comments were full of confused questions. "Did he go to the bathroom?"
"Why hasn't he come back yet?"
"Why isn't the streamer making the most of all this traffic and singing a few more songs? What'd he go off to do?"
About five minutes later, Old Zhang's Song finally returned.
He was holding a piece of cardboard, with several large words written on it in black marker:
"Xiao Ran, come back."
Then he set the sign somewhere conspicuous.
He had secretly made up his mind to put the sign there every time he livestreamed from now on.
At the same time, he would do his best to grow his livestream. He believed that one day, Xiao Ran would see it.
Then he glanced at the comments.
He was startled.
He'd been so immersed in regret and sorrow that he hadn't paid much attention. Now, he saw that the screen was filled with comments.
Usually, there were only a few dozen people in his livestream, and the occasional comment floated by. Today, though, the screen was packed.
He checked the viewer count and couldn't help but jump in surprise.
It had reached 330,000.
His follower count had also climbed from a little over eight thousand to 200,000.
Old Zhang's Song was stunned all over again.
Could it really be this incredible?
He'd connected with Brother Yi for less than five minutes, and he'd gained over 200,000 followers in an instant.
That was the power of Brother Yi's traffic.
His amazement only strengthened his resolve to keep livestreaming.
One day, he would make sure Xiao Ran saw him.
The comments kept coming:
"Who's Xiao Ran?"
"Is she pretty?"
"Tell us your story."
More comments urged him, "Quick, make the most of this traffic and sing another