The video had been online for fifteen minutes.

Old Chen slumped in his chair, arms hanging at his sides, staring at the red line on the screen that was climbing almost vertically.

Likes: 4.87 million.

Comments: 960,000.

Shares: 2.11 million.

The numbers were still rising.

Su Lan's phone vibrated incessantly. The CEO had called three times in a row, and each time the message was the same single sentence.

"Give him more promotion! Take every resource slot on the entire site and change them all to him!"

Su Lan didn't even need to reply anymore.

Because the users across the entire site didn't need the platform to push it at all. They were sharing it like crazy on their own.

...

Weibo Hot Search List.

8:20 PM.

#Lu Zhixian Yitian Debut#.

#Lu Zhixian Cooking#.

#One-Handed Blues#.

Of the top ten spots, seven belonged to the same person.

An operations engineer for Weibo's servers sent a message in an internal group: "I suggest we open a dedicated hot search channel for Lu Zhixian, just so he doesn't make our servers smoke every time he shows up."

A row of "+1"s followed below.

The comment section could no longer be described as merely "lively."

A more accurate description would be collective insanity.

"Is there anything this man can't do? He's slicing beef today; is he going to perform surgical suturing tomorrow?"

"To be honest, after seeing him slice that Wagyu, I feel like the cow died willingly."

"You guys are all watching the knife work and the guitar, but am I the only one who looped the salt-sprinkling motion thirty times? One light rub of his fingers, and I'm completely weak in the knees."

"Yesterday he was deified, today he's descended to the mortal realm. This is what it truly means to be clear-headed in this world."

"Idols packaged by capital can't even fry an egg, yet Brother Lu produces Michelin-level work effortlessly. I'd like to ask which capital could possibly package something like this?"

It was overwhelming.

Every entertainment account, marketing account, and self-media outlet pounced on it.

Because at this moment, latching onto Lu Zhixian's popularity was equivalent to an automatic deposit of traffic.

...

8:47 PM.

A comment with a Gold V verification suddenly appeared as the latest entry in the video's comment section.

ID: Lin Shiya.

An active Diva of the Chinese music scene, whose last album sold over ten million copies globally.

Her comment was just one line:

"The steak is cooked perfectly. Can I come over for a meal tomorrow night?"

Followed by a fork emoji.

The moment that comment was posted, the entire internet reacted as if someone had stepped on its tail.

Within three seconds, the replies within the comment thread absolutely exploded.

"Wait, wait, wait, what does this mean? What is the Diva doing? Is she flirting?"

"Am I seeing this right? Lin Shiya? *That* Lin Shiya?"

"Calm down everyone, she might really just want to have a meal."

"Calm down my foot! Have you ever seen a Diva use that kind of tone with someone!"

"It's over, it's over, it's over. I'm shipping this CP! A talented man and a talented woman, a match made in heaven!"

Within five minutes.

#Lin Shiya Asking for a Meal# parachuted into the second spot on the hot search list.

Immediately following, #Lu Zhixian Lin Shiya# got stuck at the fifth position, immovable.

The previously dormant CP Super Topic on Weibo was resurrected.

Old Zhao looked at Lin Shiya's comment on his phone screen, his mouth hanging open in an O-shape.

"Old Lu! Lin Shiya left a comment under your video!"

"Mm."

Lu Zhixian was sitting on the sofa drinking water.

"You just say 'mm'?" Old Zhao got anxious. "At least reply to her! The whole internet is waiting for your response!"

Lu Zhixian put down his water glass.

He picked up his phone, opened the comment section, and replied with four words under Lin Shiya's comment:

"Bring your own ingredients."

Old Zhao: "..."

The comment section exploded again.

"He actually replied! And he told the Diva to bring her own ingredients! This man is too arrogant, hahahaha!"

"What is an equal dialogue? This is an equal dialogue. Even the Diva has to carry her own groceries in front of him."

"The words 'bring your own ingredients' carry so much information. I've already mentally composed an entire urban romance drama."

...

However, this was just the appetizer.

Starting from nine o'clock, the truly magical things began to happen.

The first to act was Zhou Yaoting.

The previous generation's Godfather of music, the one who had just personally completed the handover at the gala last night. He didn't leave a comment, but silently gave a like.

Immediately after, the account of guitar grandmaster Li Zhong appeared in the comment section, leaving five thumbs-up emojis without writing a single word.

Five.

Not one more, not one less.

Then came the Best Actor, Zhang Yuanshan.

"I suggest labeling Brother Lu's cooking videos with 'Enter with caution late at night.' I just got off the film set, and after watching, I immediately ordered two portions of takeout."

Diva Su Yan.

"Favorited, shared, and learned. May I ask where you bought the apron?"

A-list idol Xu Hang.

"Welcome, Brother Lu! Our platform finally has some prestige now!"

Best Actress Shen Qingyao.

"God Lu has descended!"

Four words, followed by a row of clapping emojis.

One after another.

Stars from across the entire entertainment circle began to line up to check in at the comment section.

A-listers, top idols, veterans, and the new generation.

No matter how arrogant, aloof, or detached from the mortal world they usually were in the circle.

At this moment, they all cast aside their status and obediently lined up under one of Lu Zhixian's cooking videos to call him "Brother Lu."

Old Zhao stood in the middle of the living room, holding his phone, his hands trembling.

He scrolled down through them one by one.

With every scroll, his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Old Lu, come take a look..."

"Mm?"

"Do you know Shen Qingyao? The one who won three Best Actress awards last year? She's lining up in your comment section to call you God Lu."

"I know."

"Do you know Zhang Yuanshan? The one whose cumulative box office has exceeded twenty billion? He said your video made him order two portions of takeout."

"Takeout is unhealthy, he should eat less of it."

...Can you please be normal!"

Old Zhao shoved the phone in front of Lu Zhixian.

"See for yourself! I counted, and currently, there are over forty A-list stars and above leaving comments for you! Forty! Do you know what that means?"

Lu Zhixian glanced at it.

He noticed a few familiar IDs in a corner of the comment section.

Those were a few minor producers who had followed Chen Mo in posting articles to disparage him. Back then, they had latched onto the heat, sarcastically hinting that he was a "spent talent" or a "washed-up producer chasing traffic."

Now, these same people appeared in the comment section.

One sent three bowing emojis.

One wrote, "Teacher Lu is mighty."

Another was even more ridiculous, directly copying a paragraph of excessive flattery, praising him for "redefining the upper limits of Chinese music."

Lu Zhixian's gaze slid past these comments.

He gave no reaction whatsoever.

Old Zhao watched this.

He suddenly felt that this kind of disregard was more brutal than any retaliation.

...

Time passed minute by minute.

The data in Yitian's backend never stopped for a second.

Midnight sharp.

A site-wide pop-up notification appeared on Lu Zhixian's phone screen.

The official Yitian Short Video account posted a site-wide pinned update:

"Congratulations to @Lu Zhixian for joining the Yitian platform. In less than 24 hours since the first video was posted, account followers have exceeded 8.8 million. This breaks the record for the highest single-day follower growth in Yitian's history. It also breaks the historical record for the highest follower growth across all short video platforms on the entire internet."

Below was a screenshot of the data.

Followers: 8,803,792.

Single video views: 270 million.

Likes: 14.3 million.

Comments: 3.12 million.

Old Zhao's phone also received this pop-up.

He stood by the living room window, holding his phone in front of him.

Seeing the "8.8 million" figure on the screen.

He was too excited to speak.

Outside the window, the midnight skyline of Jingzhou was brightly lit.

The phone was still vibrating as messages flooded in one after another.

He didn't look at them.

Lu Zhixian put his water glass back on the coffee table, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV.

He tuned it to a channel showing old movie reruns late at night.

Black and white images, old-fashioned music.

He leaned back against the sofa, his expression calm.

It was as if today were just an ordinary Wednesday.