Chapter One: Without Self-Deprecation, How Can One Gain Popularity?

"Hello everyone, I’m your Purehearted Little Angel, and today we’re going to try out this game."

In the dimly lit room, a young man in his early twenties stared at the computer screen before him, wearing a wry smile. On the wide screen, a video guide for the game was playing, hosted by Purehearted Little Angel himself.

Seeing the view count at just a few hundred, with barely more than a dozen comments scrolling past, the young man felt a heavy blow. This number wasn’t just from a day or two—it was the total for an entire month, which meant there was little hope for growth.

The host in the video was, of course, the young man before the screen: Luo Chen. Now in his third year of college and nearing graduation, Luo Chen was unwilling to settle for an ordinary life, lost beneath the weight of endless mortgage and car payments. To avoid that fate, he had poured all his free time in college into various side hustles.

Becoming a well-known streamer had been Luo Chen’s dream, but reality had not been kind. After three years, his best video had barely reached a thousand views, and fans or tips were even more elusive.

Knowing how hopeless his situation was, Luo Chen had grown dejected. He understood all too well that without popularity, there was no point dreaming of fame as a streamer.

But he was no stranger to disappointment; by now, it had almost become routine. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for his own stubborn determination or to mourn the meager results of his three years of effort.

With a helpless sigh, Luo Chen closed the video’s webpage and, out of habit, logged into the platform. He opened the “Remix” category and clicked on one of the top videos to watch—his usual way of cheering himself up.

He watched with envy as the screen filled with a barrage of comments right from the start—declarations of love, rankings, cheers.

Comparing himself to others was truly maddening.

Still, Luo Chen knew his own content couldn’t compare to these masters, so he tried to adjust his mood.

“Beep, beep, beep—”

Just as he was getting into the video, his notification icon began flashing insistently. Annoyed, Luo Chen opened his penguin messenger.

“Junlin? What does he want now?” Luo Chen muttered, though he reluctantly accepted the incoming video call.

“Well, if it isn’t our Purehearted Little Virgin. Not too crushed, I hope?” A cheeky grin filled most of Luo Chen’s screen.

“Come on, it’s Purehearted Little Angel. Drop that other nickname if you still want to be friends,” Luo Chen replied, exasperated as he looked at the oversized face on his monitor. He nearly punched the screen, but thankfully remembered it was his own computer—if he broke it, he’d have nowhere to cry.

On the platform, Luo Chen went by the name Purehearted Little Angel. Early on, he’d had a few fans who affectionately called him “Little Angel.”

But ever since he’d met Junlin, another host on the platform, his hard-won reputation had been utterly ruined. The reason was simple: once, Junlin had joked in a video that Luo Chen was a purehearted little virgin. For a while, Luo Chen’s popularity spiked, but his good reputation was finished.

Originally, his fans had seen him as a friendly, earnest, innocent little—

No, scratch that—

A friendly, earnest, innocent little angel. Not that he had many fans to begin with.

“Don’t sweat the details. As a host, you’ve got to poke fun at yourself if you want to be popular! I’m helping you out—without me, you’d have even fewer fans,” Junlin said, exasperated at Luo Chen’s attempt to play the victim. “It’s just a bit of ribbing.”

“With my numbers, it hardly makes a difference,” Luo Chen retorted, rolling his eyes. He’d gone from having a dozen or so fans to not even thirty.

He’d managed to upgrade from an unknown host to… still an unknown host.

How delightful.

Except, nothing had really changed!

What made it worse was that, before, the occasional comment had offered a bit of comfort. Now…

Luo Chen glanced helplessly at the latest comments under his video:

“Look out, the Purehearted Little Virgin’s updated again!”

“Hello, Virgin; goodbye, Virgin.”

“Honey, come see—the virgin’s back!”

A vein throbbed on Luo Chen’s forehead. He wanted nothing more than to drag Junlin out of the video and give him a good beating, but Junlin seemed to anticipate this, so he never met Luo Chen in real life.

Still, Luo Chen had made a mental note—one day, Junlin would pay for this.

“Alright, out with it—what do you want? Don’t tell me you’re here just to mess with me after my latest video flopped,” Luo Chen grumbled, suspecting Junlin had come specifically to taunt him.

“Come on, am I that shameless?” Junlin began, but seeing Luo Chen’s skeptical look, he swallowed the rest of his protest and changed the subject. “You asked me to review your video and give you some feedback. So, do you want to hear it or not?”

“Of course I do! I’m just surprised you’re actually following through. I thought you were just saying that for the sake of it,” Luo Chen said, genuinely surprised. After all, Junlin was famous on the platform for his sharp wit and irreverence—he’d never seriously mentored a newcomer.

Like Luo Chen, Junlin was a host on the platform, but unlike Luo Chen’s tough luck, Junlin had tens of thousands of fans. He wasn’t quite at the top with the superstars, but he was definitely popular.

So, when they’d last met, Luo Chen had asked Junlin to critique his videos.

“Hey, don’t slander me. That’s just part of my online persona. I’m actually a decent guy,” Junlin replied, putting on a serious face that was almost convincing. Luo Chen nearly believed he’d turned over a new leaf—but he’d known Junlin too long to be fooled. He was a scoundrel at heart, though most people were distracted by his good looks.

Seeing Luo Chen’s obvious disbelief, Junlin gave up. He’d always told people he was a shy, handsome guy in real life, but no one believed him.

Luckily, Luo Chen couldn’t hear Junlin’s inner monologue, or Luo Chen’s computer would be in for a real durability test.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Junlin said, his expression turning earnest. Luo Chen, too, dropped the banter.

“I think your game commentary is just too… normal,” Junlin said, a strange look crossing his face.

“You’re really just playing the game seriously, aren’t you? But you’re a host, not just a gamer.”