Chapter 3 – Going Live! Anchor Lingyue, Online Hypnosis

“Lingyue!”

Lin Wanyi blocked Wen Lingyue’s path. She glanced at the trophy in Lingyue’s arms and sighed.
“Your way of apologizing is certainly… original.”

Wen Lingyue froze.

Jiang Su spoke gently:
“Since you’ve won the championship, I’ll allow you to come home. You are still the daughter of the Jiang family.”

Wen Lingyue found it laughable.

She coolly reminded him:
“Mr. Jiang, I haven’t forgotten what you said yesterday. I hope you don’t forget it either.”

Jiang Su’s face darkened in anger.
“Are you resenting me? I’m your father—can’t you stand being criticized a little?”

Wen Lingyue calmly replied,
“You are not my father.”

“Lingyue! How can you talk to Uncle Jiang like that?” Zhou Huailang frowned.

Lingyue gave him a sidelong glance.
“Are we… close?”

That look pierced straight into Zhou Huailang. Staring at the now-cold features of Wen Lingyue, he suddenly felt she was a stranger.

“Elder Sister!”

Jiang Yurou appeared from behind, clinging to Zhou Huailang’s arm while forcing a smile.
“Your dancing has always been beneath mine. Who would’ve thought you’d actually win the gold this time?”

Lowering her voice, she added,
“The upcoming national finals—I won’t let you win.”

Lingyue swept her an indifferent glance.
“You think you’re worthy?”

With that, she walked away, carefree and poised.

The Jiang family watched her receding figure and suddenly realized—

Wen Lingyue had changed.

The Wen Lingyue of the past always kept her head down, shoulders hunched, her smiles tinged with flattery, never daring to speak up, always submissive. She was nothing like now.

Sharp. Cold. Unyielding.

Wen Lingyue avoided the eager reporters, bought herself a new phone with the prize money, and almost immediately a call came in.

“Wen Lingyue, where the hell have you been!”

A man’s harsh voice growled on the other end:
“If Jiang Yurou hadn’t spoken up for you, do you think you could’ve entered Xingyu Entertainment?”

“I’m warning you—if you don’t fulfill the gambling contract, you’re dead.”

The call cut off.

Lingyue gripped her phone tightly. She remembered—

In her past life, Jiang Yurou, who had made a name for herself in the entertainment industry, claimed she needed a helper and pulled her into Xingyu Media.

Trusting Jiang Yurou, she foolishly signed the contract… only to realize later it was a gamblingagreement.

Xingyu required her to earn one hundred million yuan within three months!

If she failed, she’d owe a penalty of more than a hundred million.

She had been shocked and furious, and went to confront Jiang Yurou. Jiang Su erupted in rage, scolding her as stupid and beating her half to death under the excuse of “family discipline.”

After that, the Jiang family washed their hands of her—

Xingyu drained her dry, lawsuits followed, and her career collapsed into darkness. If someone hadn’t stepped in to save her later, she might have been trapped in Xingyu forever.

But now, she checked the time—

There was only one week left before the contract deadline.

The following evening.

On the Le Ying live-streaming platform.

Feeling bored, Du Teng casually clicked into a random live room.

A beautiful face appeared on screen.

His eyes lit up.
“Not bad, she’s quite pretty.”

The anchor’s features were finely balanced, her skin like jade, as elegant as a magnolia in bloom—a true classical beauty.

Judging by her looks, she seemed to be one of those “appearance streamers.”

“Welcome to the live room. I’m Anchor Lingyue. Online hypnosis.”

“…”

So she was a sleep-aid streamer.

What a pity, with such looks.

Just as Du Teng was muttering, Lingyue spoke:
“Tonight’s sleep-aid method—sound therapy.”

Du Teng sneered.

All these sleep-aid streamers were frauds.

After a failed investment, he had been losing handfuls of hair and couldn’t sleep at night no matter what—pills, sound therapy, diet therapy… he’d tried them all, nothing worked.

He was about to exit when the anchor pulled out… a wooden fish.

“The sound of the wooden fish can soothe the liver, calm the gallbladder, and stabilize emotions—perfect for inducing sleep.”

Du Teng stared, dumbfounded.

A wooden fish? To hypnotize? Was she joking?

The scattered audience in the live room was also stunned.

【Is this anchor here to clown around?】
【I get it, she’s not a sleep-aid anchor—she’s a troll anchor!】
【Just fishing for attention, how annoying.】

Lingyue said,
“A lullaby for everyone—three minutes, and you’ll be asleep.”

Then she put on soundproof earplugs and began striking the wooden fish.

Dong.

Dong.

The heavy wooden sound echoed.

The entire live room: ???

【She’s really just… banging on it? It’s only 8 p.m.!】
【This world has gone mad—sleep-aid anchors putting people to bed at 8!】
【Three minutes to fall asleep? Ha, can’t wait to see her fail.】

The barrage was full of mocking comments, yet the small room of barely two hundred viewers was becoming lively.

Du Teng didn’t leave. He decided to wait, just so he could ridicule her later and show her how naïve she was about live streaming.

Lingyue ignored the chatter, striking the wooden fish again and again.

In traditional Chinese medicine, sound therapy was real—the lullaby she played relied on shifting tones of the wooden fish to trigger brainwave resonance, emptying the mind and calming the spirit.

In her past life, it had already become a mainstream sleep method.

Dong.

Dong.

She varied the strength of each strike, creating a soothing rhythm.

On screen, aside from the striking stick, it was as if time itself had stilled.

Holding his phone, Du Teng suddenly felt his eyelids grow heavy. He yawned.

【Wait, I actually feel sleepy.】
【The sound is… kind of relaxing.】

…

Sleepiness overwhelmed him. Just before he collapsed into slumber, a thought flashed in his mind—

Wait, is this anchor for real?!

Thud!

Du Teng woke again.

Or rather—he had been woken by his phone falling on his face.

He picked it up, looked at the stream, and shook his head hard.

His expression shifted—from confusion, to disbelief, to sheer joy.

What the hell?!

And I thought she was trolling?!

Thought it wouldn’t work?!

If she’s a sleep-aid anchor, then what were all those fakes I watched before?!

Three minutes passed quickly.

Lingyue did not stop.

Her “three-minute lullaby” ended, and she simply started over, intent on putting every new viewer to sleep.

Du Teng muted his phone. Remembering all those nights of anxious suffering, he suddenly felt his eyes sting with tears—

It was as if he had found a savior.

Wiping his face, he hurriedly shared the stream with his friends:
“Watch this—sleep aid!”

Viewers began flooding in.

【Does this really work?】
【Yes! My mom just woke me up asking why I was asleep on the floor.】
【I almost dozed off too, had to pinch myself.】

The live room numbers skyrocketed.

Half an hour later—

Lingyue looked at the counter: tens of thousands of people were watching.

She smiled.

Her very first stream, and already—【tens of thousands of people fell asleep in my live room!】

Then she waved her hand.
“Stream’s over. Goodbye!”

The broadcast shut down.

The handful of forcibly-awake viewers: “…”

They had never seen such a nonchalant anchor.

At the same time, Lingyue’s “Lullaby” quietly went live on major music platforms.

Online, netizens who were supposed to be drifting to sleep instead exploded in excitement, pushing the song straight onto the trending charts.