Guo Junsheng initially thought the streamer was running some kind of soft advertisement, but after listening for a while, he realized the patients might actually be real. Someone new appeared every three minutes, followed by a fresh wave of enthusiastic greetings.
Amid those greetings, some people inevitably leaked information about the patients—if one or two did it, they might have been deliberately misleading everyone, but there were too many excited people, and some of the conversations looked genuine at a glance.
For example: "President Qi, my sister-in-law said the company seal isn't with her. The company has no money to buy inventory."
The more Guo Junsheng watched, the more real it seemed, so he kept listening to see what everyone was saying.
There really was nothing particularly interesting. Each person had three minutes, mostly spent greeting their families, along with things like, "I'm fine," "I'll be back soon," "Remember to finish your homework on your own," and "I'm not fucking dead... They're going to have it rough!"
After watching for over half an hour, Guo Junsheng finally lost interest and wandered off elsewhere.
But this livestream room was genuinely addictive. Aside from the relatives and friends of those patients, there was always an endless stream of spectators.
Some people left, then came back, then left again, then returned...
Guo Junsheng was one of them. When he had nothing to do the next day, he came back to watch the excitement, feeling as though he were coolly observing all the different faces of life.
All of a sudden, he really wanted to know where this place was, so he sent a huge scrolling comment: "This place sounds pretty impressive. Where is it?"
No one paid attention to him, so he sent it three more times.
Then the demolition-rich second generation got