Chapter 839: Chapter 350: Could You Please Spare Me?

The entire Panda platform was brimming with joy on the 8th.

The new version released at noon seemed surprisingly solid after a day’s exploration by users.

Red packet feature, new gift system, flashy effects, spin-the-wheel lottery, interactive voting…

Essentially, everything the other platforms had has been integrated.

While the overall UI still lagged behind Douyu and Huya, players now had confidence in calling Panda the industry’s third best.

After a day of warm-ups and familiarization, a new meme exploded across the platform–

“Panda has finally stepped up; at last, Yu has graced us with her presence.”

No need to doubt, this was 100% Xingyu marketing.

In fact, under Su Huai’s hired army of 10,000 spammers, this meme gained traction across various forums and platforms.

At around 7:30 p.m., ahead of the 8 p.m. start, Wang Siming went live, personally amping up the hype.

He wasn’t gaming today. Instead, he streamed himself chatting nonsense with viewers, his attitude still somewhat cheeky yet cheerful throughout.

“You’re asking how I managed to get Yuji on board? Come on, watch your words, alright? What part of me could ever be worthy of Yu?”

Wang Siming rambled on, responding to his viewers with a mix of respect and smugness, two contrasting vibes all tangled up in his expression, creating peak entertainment value.

“It was Yu who was moved by my sincerity and agreed to join me in building this together. Get it?”

The chat was flooded with both mocking comments and fervent support from dreamy fangirls treating him like their “ideal boyfriend.”

Those who hadn’t witnessed it firsthand would hardly believe just how many female fans in 2017 were praising Wang Siming during his streams, calling him cute and funny.

Some of these fangirls stepped out of line, trying to roast Pei Shuyu in the chat. But as soon as their comments popped up, they were harshly scolded by the enraged “boyfriend.”

“Mods? Ban those haters permanently, damn it! Who the hell do you think you are to talk crap about Yu? If I bump into her, I’d bow and greet her respectfully! Get your priorities straight…”

The screen was filled with “HAHAHAHA,” and everyone was laughing hysterically.

When a friend logged in on their main account just to tease him, saying, “Look at you now,” Wang Siming played it cool.

“Making money, you see. The platform’s strategy needs a leader. Yu is so nice and brings fantastic content. As the boss, of course, I’ll back her up.

Stop with the fake gossip already. We’re completely unrelated romantically. She alone carries enough weight to rival the entire platform. Do you get what that means?

Whenever she calls me ‘Little Onion,’ I immediately rush over and ask, ‘Lord, what are your orders?’…”

At exactly 8 p.m., Room 100000 went live as Yuji officially began her stream.

After wrapping up the group dance opening, the first segment was connecting the mic with Wang Siming.

As the PK started, Yuji chucklingly called out, “Little Onion, where are you? Why didn’t you come to the palace to serve today?”

Wang Siming’s face nearly turned green on the spot, his expression incredibly awkward.

While everyone was laughing uncontrollably, Wang Siming immediately stood up and saluted: “Yu, I’m here! Who do you want me to cut down? I’ll handle it right away!”

The entertainment value skyrocketed, instantly boosting the stream’s popularity.

Many viewers took it seriously, unaware this was all scripted.

To help Panda rise, Wang Siming pushed hard during this stage, though it only lasted about a year before he slipped back into complacency.

After a lively exchange and mutual well-wishes with the boss segment concluded, Pei Shuyu kicked off her first dance–a center-stage K-pop performance with her dance crew.

The initial live viewer count was over 57 million, and as her performance continued, the numbers surged rapidly, soon surpassing 100 million and even approaching 200 million.

Alright, that’s fake.

The actual stripped-down data showed 2.5 million starting viewers, steadily growing as captivating content pulled in new viewers, eventually breaking 5 million and peaking at over 8.8 million.

This concurrent viewer count smashed all existing records for live streaming.

Based on metrics calculated by Shi Zeyu’s scraped data across all platforms, the estimated total audience for online streaming worldwide, including Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan, and overseas users, was about 50 million. This included casual curious viewers who checked in once or twice and never logged back in.

In reality, there were fewer than 15 million active users.

Among them, those who had spent money made up around one-fifth–roughly 3 million consumers total.

On this day, Yuji attracted over half of the active users, with 430,000 people donating over 1 yuan each, achieving a reward-to-view ratio of 5%.

When the results were announced, Xingyu Headquarters erupted in celebration.

Although the total revenue was capped at 50 million by Su Huai’s push, it was still impressive given there was no festive occasion or PK hype, purely showcasing the fanfare of Yuji’s debut.

The four-hour live stream was packed with engaging content.

The stage effects were unparalleled in the live streaming space at the time–barring comparison to major TV gala productions, it was an absolute domination on the digital level.

Throughout the session, 12 million-dollar leaderboard spots appeared, alongside 52 hundred-thousand-dollar ranks, over 200 ten-thousand-dollar spots, 2,000 thousand-dollar ranks, and 55,000 hundred-dollar spots.

All major platforms across the internet shivered, their streamers struck speechless.

In reality, leaderboards at this level were often inflated–million-dollar ranks and hundred-thousand-dollar ranks were bolstered by artificial contributions for appearances, advertisements, favors, guild goodwill, and official input. It was impossible to replicate the numbers again.

What truly amazed people, however, was the seemingly insignificant thousand-dollar and hundred-dollar boards.

These tiers represented genuine player support driven purely by their love for Yu.

In other words, the current Yu Family Army likely consisted of 57,000 loyal fans willing to spend money, along with several times more freeloading small players who could only cheer her on.