After taking the time to disguise an empty room as Bai Qiu’s room, she decided to use it as a streaming room.
She had the girls come there to record their voice-overs, asked Li Ai what she thought, and edited the cooking portion according to her requests.
Since Li Ai was the star of this video, Bai Qiu wanted to edit it in the style she preferred.
And Li Ai’s answer was, “I want it to feel like a variety show.”
After that, Bai Qiu had Li Ai stay for the entire process and followed her directions completely, making changes whenever she pointed out something she didn’t like.
By the end of the editing process, Bai Qiu had basically become a robot that followed Li Ai’s orders.
No matter how grueling the process had been, Bai Qiu finally finished editing the video at 6:00 PM the next day.
“I’m basically a superhero…”
Watching the video undergo review, Bai Qiu clutched her head and slumped back in her chair.
The video was about 16 minutes long.
The first 4 minutes showed them buying groceries, the next 8 showed Zhen Hong cooking, and the final 4 showed everyone’s reactions.
While editing, Bai Qiu had added as many effects as possible at Li Ai’s request to make that section feel more like a variety show.
Bai Qiu didn’t think that was a good idea, since their program wasn’t a variety show.
Cutting back and forth between several camera angles 3 or 4 times for the same segment?
Even variety shows these days didn’t do that, right?
But she didn’t know, since she hadn’t watched a variety show in years.
Still, since Li Ai had asked for it, she’d add it.
It was one thing to deliberately make something absurd, but Li Ai genuinely thought editing it that way would be fun.
After all, Li Ai had to experience setbacks herself to gradually find the right path.
To help Li Ai grow, Bai Qiu had deliberately kept quiet whenever she offered her opinions and followed her instructions completely.
‘I’ve put so much effort into teaching her. It’d be a crime not to give me an award for the ten most inspiring people in the world.’
Bai Qiu gave herself a mental pat on the back for her dedication.
“I should also remind the others to accept the joint post…”
Bai Qiu had originally planned to post it on Zhen Hong’s account, but Li Ai had told her to post it on her own account instead.
They could use the joint-post feature afterward.
The reason was that it didn’t really matter who posted it.
Li Ai didn’t need the video revenue, and once they’d decided on a team name and slogan, they’d be posting videos on the team account anyway.
Bai Qiu left the room and went to the first floor, knocking on each door to remind them to accept the joint post later.
For some reason, every time she finished knocking and giving someone a reminder, another person would appear behind her.
Even more strangely, in the end, they all gathered in Jiu’s room.
Bai Qiu leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed, watching them enter Jiu’s room as naturally as if it were their own, then sit cross-legged around the round table.
“Aren’t you coming in, Senior?” Alice asked.
“It’s nothing important. I’ll just tell you and go. There’s no need to come in.”
A girl’s room… The only one she’d ever entered was her little sister’s.
She still didn’t have the courage to step into such a sacred place.
“It’s too much trouble to notify you all one by one. Add me as a friend and I’ll make a group chat. From now on, I can tell you about things there.”
Bai Qiu brought up the QR code for her messaging app so they could scan it and add her as a friend.
Even though she used the same account for both identities, they probably wouldn’t notice.
And luckily, she had a habit of making an alt account on every platform.
She could just add that account to the group and pretend it was Bai Qiuchen.
“If you have any questions, just contact me in the group. I’ll head back now.”
Bai Qiu waved casually in farewell and returned to Bai Qiuchen’s room.
From now on, she’d use the room she’d disguised specifically for editing videos and streaming.
“Streaming, streaming. I get to make money again.”
If she wanted to start an animation company someday that wouldn’t make a cent but could adapt the works she loved into anime, she had to work hard to earn money now.
In fact, she’d had this idea for a long time.
It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision.
So many works she loved had never been adapted into anime, and she thought it was a shame.
If no company was willing to do it, she’d do it herself!
Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough money, and she couldn’t get in touch with her parents, who were off doing their own thing.
Otherwise, she could’ve just asked them to cough up some cash.
Streaming Title:
One hour after the video went up…
The comments could generally be divided into these categories:
- Praising Zhen Hong.
- Praising the others.
- Calling her Mom.
- Calling her Baby.
- Insulting Bai Qiu.
The complaints included, but weren’t limited to:
- She was the only one wearing pajamas.
- Everyone else was properly dressed in their Magical Girl outfits.
- Even Zhen Hong, who was cooking, had an apron tied over her lab coat.
- She stood off to the side cosplaying as a statue.
- There wasn’t a single entertaining moment.
- The other Magical Girls hadn’t lifted a finger during the cooking segment, yet they were the ones getting praised.
Well, she was Bai Qiu.
If her fans weren’t insulting her in creative ways, would she even be Bai Qiu?
Still, they were a lot less harsh today.
Had they grown a conscience? Knowing her fans, that was probably impossible.
You might be wondering if anyone praised Bai Qiu.
Sorry, but no such person existed in this world.
Even if there were, Bai Qiu could tell at a glance that it was one of the other girls using an alt account.
Because even when her fans praised her in coherent sentences, they always ended with a laughing-crying emoji.
She didn’t even feel like blocking their alt accounts anymore.
Her block list was full, so she couldn’t block anyone even if she wanted to.
‘Oh well, it’s nice if they spend a little money on me now. It’s basically tuition.’
Bai Qiu scrolled through thousands of comments and thought, ‘It seems like nobody’s given any genuinely useful feedback. They’re all just praising us.’
It was true that most Magical Girl fans were too kind.
They weren’t critical at all.
How was she supposed to improve with people like this?
It was time to show them what the professionals could do.
The make-believe game was over.
Don’t blame me.
I’m letting you experience the adult world early, and it’s for your own good.
Bai Qiu put her phone down and said as if nothing had happened, “Oh, right. Did you watch the video we posted today?”
[Yeah, why didn’t the streamer do anything?]
[Bai Qiu just stands there and gives people enough material to talk about for the rest of their lives.]
[What purpose does Bai Qiu serve in this video?]
[The streamer standing there is already entertaining enough.]
[Don’t slander her. Without our great Bai Qiu, who’d record the greatest opening of the twenty-first century? Who’d film the video?]
The opening was the part she liked best, too.
Recording and editing it had made her toes curl, but once it was finished, she genuinely thought it was pretty good.
[Aaaaaah, Sensei, how did you know I ship Zhen-Bai CP? Zhen-Bai CP is so sweet!!!]
[Stop shipping them or I’ll kill you, meow.]
“I’m telling you, this video’s amazing. I have to play it for you.”
Bai Qiu went to her own page and opened the video.
The other five Magical Girls’ official accounts had all accepted the joint post, and 80 percent of the comments under the video were from their fans.
No wonder they were so kind.
Maybe her own fans had seen how nice everyone was in the comments and couldn’t bring themselves to attack her there.
Even when they did, their criticism had been a lot less biting.
But that wouldn’t do.
How could they be so nice?
They had to show their true colors.
An evil idea began to grow in Bai Qiu’s mind.
She remembered a line from some great woman.
It was something like, “They say only humans know how to use fire,” and then something about “people starting fires in every corner of the internet every day,” and something about “once the kindling burns, everything around it catches fire.”
For Zhen Hong’s growth, and so the others could learn from the experience, Bai Qiu had no choice but to be the one who started the fire.
Bai Qiu struggled to hold back a smile.
‘No, I can’t laugh yet. Give it another ten minutes… No, I’ll declare victory in five!’
[Where’s the god?]
[Behind the original.]
[Thank you for making this a classic. You’ve lived up to our expectations.]
[This one was a flop.]
[Where did it flop?]
[In Egyptian mythology.]
[I get it now. So Ra equals god, and flopping means it’s a god.]
Bai Qiu watched the comments, secretly pleased.
‘That’s it. I just need to guide them in the right direction a little more.’
“What do you think of the editing? I think I did a pretty good job, considering it was my first time editing a live-action video.”
[Can you explain why the grocery-shopping part feels so disconnected from the rest? A lot of it was dubbed afterward, right? Especially the shopping part. I don’t understand why you used voice-overs.]
[What do all these meaningless effects ☆ mean? Am I living in 2026?]
[You think it’s fun to cut the same scene between four camera angles over and over?]
[Did the streamer laugh while editing?]
[Actually, the streamer finished editing and laughed for a week before posting it.]
[Was this really edited by Bai Qiu? I mean, her editing isn’t that great, but this feels so absurdly like some low-quality variety show.]
[Honestly, if you’re going to edit it like this, don’t inflict it on your fans and random viewers.]
The opportunity had come! Bai Qiu confidently opened the comments section.
“Well—you’re mistaken.”
“Look, aren’t all the comments full of praise? That proves the editing was pretty good.”
[???] × 4349
[Thank goodness the others accepted the joint post.]
[It’s fine if you watch it as a blooper reel, but this is the actual video.]
[I really need to get someone to treat you, Haki Bai.]
[Where are the streamer’s fans? Did they all fall asleep?]
[I’ve made a serious clip and shared it with the fan group.]
[If you dare attack, we’ll make sure your comments are flooded with bad reviews!]
Bai Qiu covered her mouth with one hand to hide her laughter and rested her elbow on the table, watching the video’s view count climb from 30,000+ to 60,000+.
The comments slowly rose from over 4,000, and the chat filled up, too.
Most of them weren’t just mindless insults, either.
They were precisely attacking the parts of the video that made no sense.
Of course, the chat wasn’t nearly as restrained.
As expected, her own side’s professionals were the real deal.
“You guys keep chatting. I’m going to the bathroom.”
Bai Qiu picked up her phone, stepped out of frame, and slipped back into Bai Qiuchen’s room to watch the show.
“…”
Her phone rang soon after.
She picked it up and, sure enough, the message had come from the Loving Family group chat.
The others had probably been watching the video the whole time.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have noticed so quickly.
But what surprised her was that the message wasn’t from Li Ai.
It was from Xilalite.
Xilalite: [Suddenly there are so many people slandering Senior and Teacher!]
Alice: [I saw them too. What’s going on?]
Jiu: [Ever since Senior played the video for her fans during the stream, its view count shot up, and more and more comments and chat messages have been criticizing Senior and Teacher.]
Xilalite: [I get it now. Someone must’ve sent paid trolls to smear Senior and Teacher!]
Alice: [I think that’s possible.]
In truth, Bai Qiu’s reputation didn’t need paid trolls to smear it anymore.
There was no need for anyone else to do it.
She could stand there doing nothing and still attract criticism.
Even while watching the stream, these sweet girls had never suspected that it was all planned by the Senior they trusted.
Bai Qiu jumped into the conversation at just the right moment.
Bai Qiu: [It’s okay. Who doesn’t get criticized? We can’t just listen to praise and ignore the flaws we might have.]
Then she switched to her alt account.
Bai Qiuchen: [Xiao Qiu is right. We can’t just listen to praise and ignore criticism. We need to hear both so we can improve our weaknesses and build on our strengths.]
Xilalite: [But they’re criticizing Senior and Teacher!]
Bai Qiuchen: [It’s just an editing issue.]
Only Bai Qiu and Li Ai knew who was behind the comments criticizing the video.
Li Ai still hadn’t said a word.
Bai Qiu didn’t know how she was taking it, but she probably wasn’t doing well.
Even if a thousand comments were positive, a single negative one could stick in a creator’s mind—unless they were an unflappable creator like Bai Qiu.
She was sure of that.
Li Ai sat on her bed, the blanket that had covered her sliding down to her feet, staring blankly at the comments mercilessly criticizing the editing.
The Li Ai who had been happily browsing the comments just moments ago was gone.
Messages kept popping up in the group chat.
Their notification sounds echoed through the quiet room, as if they were pounding at her heart.
Everyone… doesn’t like it…
Did I do something wrong…?
Not again…
As I thought… It really is better if I’m not needed…
Li Ai turned off her phone and gripped the blanket as if she were trying to tear it apart.
Then, as if trying to escape, she buried herself completely beneath it.
Memories of the past surged into her mind.
She fought to hold back the tears gathering in her eyes and didn’t make a sound.
Just then, a ray of light appeared in her dark world—Bai Qiu’s message lit up her phone.
[Li Ai, don’t take it to heart. It was just one mistake. You can do better next time.]
Bai Qiuchen sent a message right after:
[Li Ai, don’t take it to heart. Sometimes criticism doesn’t mean people think you did a bad job. They might just want you to do even better.]
“…Teacher…”
Her voice slipped out before she could stop it.
A blur of light obscured her vision—it was her own tears.
Through her red-rimmed eyes, she could only see the screen dimly.
Li Ai stared blankly at the messages from the same person until the screen went dark again.
“……”
She summoned her courage and turned her phone back on.
‘Hang in there, Li Ai. This is only the first hurdle. You can’t give up at the first one.’
Bai Qiu’s mouth curled into a schemer’s grin.
‘Why do I feel like I’m turning into a villain? It must be my imagination.’
“Hm?”
As Bai Qiu was about to go back and keep guiding the viewers, a friend request suddenly appeared.
[Bai Qiuchen-sensei, hello. I’m Weixili Fulangxis Bulawaciji. Perhaps my email was treated as spam, so I’m adding you as a friend instead.]
His profile’s identity verification said—
“Magic Creation Department, Magical Association” Section Chief.