Chapter 8: King Engine?
“This is... Wu Bin’s heartbeat?”
Because the anesthesia had not yet worn off, Wu Bin remained unconscious.
Yet his strong and vigorous heartbeat sounded extraordinarily clear at this moment.
Thump thump!
Thump thump!
Everyone fell silent.
Who would have imagined that this heartbeat was coming from a patient who nearly died of heart disease?
Viewers in the livestream chat were also unsettled.
“Is this heartbeat for real, the Emperor Engine?”
“This sound is over the top. Are you sure it’s not sound effects?”
“The official team is really playing tricks, and it’s deadly effective.”
“What the heck, can’t kill me only makes me stronger?”
“I have a heart surgery scheduled for tomorrow. I hope it goes well, and maybe I can get an Emperor Engine like Wu Bin.”
“Sorry, Director Li. I doubted your skills before, and now I realize I was wrong.”
If they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, not only the netizens but even He Bingbing would have a hard time believing that Wu Bin’s heartbeat could sound like that.
The heartbeat was terrifyingly intense, as if it might leap out of his chest, even resonating with the hearts of those around him!
“Director Li, is he... really alright?”
Xu Wenyao wore a worried expression.
Before, he was afraid Wu Bin’s heart would stop beating.
Now, he was afraid the heartbeat was irregular.
After all, he had signed the surgery consent form, and no matter what happened to Wu Bin, he would be responsible.
Li Guotai rubbed his temples, sounding fatigued. “I know what you’re worried about, but rest assured, we’ve conducted a thorough examination on Wu Bin. He is very healthy now.”
“All right, I need to get some rest. If I don’t sleep soon, I might end up with heart disease myself.”
Li Guotai motioned to the nurse to quickly wheel Wu Bin back to his ward.
...
Magic City Television Station, Headquarters Conference Room.
Station Chief Zheng He sat in the boss’s chair, listening as his producers reported on their program statuses one by one.
In his hand, he held the latest comprehensive data for these programs over the past week.
He flipped through casually, his expression growing increasingly grim.
“Stop.”
Zheng He interrupted the producer who was presenting and posed a fatal question.
“What is the average number of viewers in the livestream for your program?”
The producer answered timidly, “Five hundred.”
Upon hearing this number, Zheng He laughed in disbelief.
“For your show ‘Searching for the Taste of Home,’ considering all your salaries, the station spends tens of thousands every week.”
“And now you tell me the average daily online viewership is just five hundred, huh?”
The producer was scolded into silence.
Others lowered their heads as well—some sipping tea, others lost in thought.
As long as Zheng He didn’t call their names, they pretended the scolding wasn’t directed at them.
“Your program doesn’t need to continue. End it with the next episode.”
The producer quickly pleaded, “No, Chief, please give us one more chance!”
“If we broadcast for another month, we’ll definitely turn a profit next month!”
Zheng He snorted coldly and took a sip of tea.
The others sighed inwardly, knowing Zheng He had made up his mind—this program was finished.
Seeing the low spirits in the room, Zheng He explained:
“Comrades, don’t think just because we’re Magic City Television, big and powerful, that we have unlimited funds.”
“We have over forty programs, and only two or three are profitable; the rest are losing money!”
“If this continues, we’ll all lose our jobs, and the entire station will go under!”
Everyone kept their heads down, silent.
They understood well the principle of shared glory and shared hardship.
But the problem was, their programs just couldn’t compete with the popularity of short videos. What could be done?
Just as Zheng He was feeling headache, his eyes caught a document.
“‘Campus Life’ program team is requesting two on-site cameramen and two vehicles?”
Zheng He felt annoyed.
Although this program had a decent response, it was also losing money but serving as promotion.
Besides, this team just films campus life—why do they need so many cameramen?
Just as Zheng He was about to reject the request, he glanced at the recent livestream data for ‘Campus Life.’
Wow!
Zheng He drew in a sharp breath, his voice growing sharp.
“Peak concurrent viewers: 210,000!”
“Average viewers: 140,000!”
“Livestream revenue: 23,000!”
These figures were dazzling among all programs!
And this was only data from two days.
Imagine if it was a week’s worth—how terrifying that would be!
“What’s going on? How did this program suddenly get such great numbers?”
Zheng He quickly took out his phone and reviewed some clips from the program.
He understood immediately.
The reason for the program’s explosive popularity was a university student named Wu Bin.
He also read He Bingbing’s application.
She believed Wu Bin was excellent livestream material and wanted to assign people to follow him closely to capture more of his daily life.
Zheng He frowned, hesitating.
After all, Wu Bin’s rise was too sudden and accidental.
Getting a heart disease scare from eating hotpot in the dorm was certainly a topic, but illness is a one-time event. As a long-term subject for filming, it seemed unnecessary.
Zheng He glanced at the data again, then gritted his teeth and signed the application form.
He was taking a gamble.
What if it blew up?
...
Hospital, private room.
Awake now, Wu Bin sat on his bed, enjoying the nurse’s care as she fed him.
Although he had insisted repeatedly that he was fine,
Under the strong urging of Xu Wenyao and Li Guotai, Wu Bin had come to enjoy a life where everything was brought to him.
“Wu Bin, do you really feel no unusual symptoms now?”
He Bingbing sat beside him, holding a microphone, fully professional.
The station chief had specially approved her request this morning.
From now on, three cameramen would follow Wu Bin around, livestreaming 24 hours a day.
Of course, all this was with Wu Bin’s consent.
Both sides had negotiated details such as gifts and donations in the livestream and signed a contract.
“Thanks to Miss He, I do feel much better now. My heart doesn’t hurt anymore, and I feel light all over.”
From the moment he woke, Wu Bin sensed his heart had grown stronger.
What is the heart?
An organ that supplies and pumps blood to the body’s core;
Equivalent to a race car’s engine.
Now, his heart was probably the strongest heart in the world.
How could he not feel at ease?
Yet before Wu Bin could rejoice for long, a system notification sounded in his mind.
Ding.
[Congratulations, host. You have successfully cured one disease and earned 100 Life Coins.]
[A new disease has been prepared for you. Please choose.]
Wu Bin’s expression instantly changed drastically.
Damn it!
Does this cursed system ever stop?
Here we go again?