After the live stream fell silent again, an even more frantic barrage of comments flooded the screen.
The viewers all knew Su Nian had some skills, but they never expected she could go this far.
Some people expressed their skepticism, but even more shared the stream.
[I think I'm speechless!]
[So you can really see... that thing?]
[Th-th-this... am I even allowed to be watching this?]
[Is the streamer telling the truth or not? If you dare lie to us just to plug some products at the end, I'll definitely report you and make sure you can't survive on the internet!]
Su Nian's expression turned serious. "Too often, people are smug and take things for granted. You see one small clip and assume you know the whole story!"
[But it was clearly because Chen Chen refused to give up his seat! If he had just given it up, maybe the bus would have avoided the crash!]
[No matter how you slice it, Chen Chen was definitely in the wrong!]
But Su Nian simply began arranging three sticks of incense, a brush pen that seemed to glow with a dark light, and a sheet of white paper on her desk.
She picked them up and arranged them with great ceremony. Then, Su Nian looked at the girl in the video, Xiao Jing, and said, "Tell me your grandmother's birth date and time."
Xiao Jing hesitated. But seeing how serious Su Nian looked, she thought, 'She probably wouldn't dare try anything funny.'
So she sent the birth details to Su Nian privately.
Su Nian glanced at the birth date and time once, then picked up the brush pen and began to move it.
[What is the streamer doing?!]
[I don't know why, but this feels so mystical.]
[From the looks of it, she seems to be drawing.]
[She's just a fraud. I'm not buying this whole 'soul performance' thing.]
In just a few moments, Su Nian had drawn an old woman. Her expression was numb as she stared ahead, her lips pursed slightly as if lost in thought.
Xiao Jing, however, cried out in shock.
"You drew my grandmother?! But there's no way you could have ever met her!"
[What? The streamer drew her grandmother?]
[Now I'm really curious what the streamer's going to do next.]
[So what's the point of the person in the drawing?]
[She can draw her just from the birth details? That's kind of amazing.]
Su Nian's hand continued to move, completely unaffected by the outside world.
With a few more strokes, a vivid and lifelike figure leaped onto the page.
Su Nian flicked her finger, pointing at the drawing from a distance.
She softly chanted something under her breath. What was even more fantastical was that while the drawing remained still, the three incense sticks began to burn faster and faster.
[I'm not seeing things, am I? There's something wrong with that incense.]
[Yeah, something's definitely not right.]
[Why do I suddenly feel a little cold for no reason?]
[What on earth is the streamer doing?!]
Before the viewers could post any more comments, the live stream changed.
The flames of the incense sticks hadn't gone out, yet the sticks themselves remained the same length, unchanging.
And then the drawing began to float, fluttering in the air despite the complete absence of wind.
[Moving without any wind?!]
[This is so intense! So exciting!]
[Am I about to witness the birth of an iconic scene?!]
[I'm starting to get nervous, everyone!]
THUD!
It was the sound of something heavy falling, and then the screen went black.
Su Nian seemed to have vanished.
The only thing connecting this moment to what came before was the white sheet of paper, slowly fluttering down.
As the paper landed on the desk, the person in the drawing opened their eyes.
...
"Hey! Young man, give me your seat!"
"Ma'am, I'm not feeling well. There are other empty seats over there."
The bus swayed back and forth, making one drowsy. The interior was filthy and seemed to be filled with a mixture of strange smells.
But near the front of the bus, someone began to shout, shattering the sleepy atmosphere.
"You little bastard, will it kill you to give up your seat for an elder? Were you raised with no father or mother?!"
"You're an animal! Get up and let me sit! People like you should just die sooner rather than later!"
The old woman berated the young man relentlessly.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
"What is wrong with you! I already said I'm not feeling well! Besides, aren't there other seats over there?"
But to the old woman, his retort felt like a grave insult.
Even more and filthier words flew at him, and other passengers on the bus were starting to get impatient.
"Young man, what's the big deal? Just give the lady your seat!"
"Kids these days... you'd think they didn't have legs or something!"
"Absolute scum of society."
"Hmph, let me record a video. I'll make you famous!"
The old woman pulled out her phone and, without a second thought, pointed the camera right at the boy's face.
"Look, everyone! We've got someone here who doesn't respect his elders, hogging a seat and refusing to let an old person sit down!"
The boy was completely caught off guard by the old woman's action. He scrambled to cover his face with his hands.
But a ceaseless torrent of accusations filled his ears.
"Young people today are all trash!"
"Can't even give up a seat. What good are they for?"
"Faking sick just to keep a seat... what scum!"
The boy finally snapped. He stood up, looking as if he was about to argue back.
But the old woman swiftly posted the video, then turned off her phone, grabbed his luggage, and threw it off the bus.
"You little bastard, didn't you want to sit so badly? Now I've thrown your stuff out for you. So go on, sit right there!"
She cackled as if she had just done something hilarious.
With his belongings thrown off, the boy couldn't stay seated any longer.
"Driver! Driver, stop the bus!"
But despite his desperate shouts, the driver continued on for a long stretch before finally stopping.
The boy was filled with rage, but he seemed to understand something. The passengers on the bus had similar accents; it seemed most of them were from the same area.
He could only accept his bad luck.
Clenching his fists, he silently walked toward the exit. He had just reached the door...
...when a foot suddenly stuck out from behind and kicked him off the bus.
He fell hard onto the ground. The rural road was covered in mud and sand, and his face was scraped and bruised.
Laughter erupted from the bus, as if celebrating that they had finally gotten rid of the scum.
The boy looked back, but all that remained on the road was the bus's exhaust fumes.
He sighed and could only start walking back silently to find his luggage first.
Just then, the screen began to shake. It was as if someone holding the camera was shakily getting out of their seat, preparing to get off.
The steps were slow, punctuated by an occasional cough or two. It seemed to be an old person.
The old person walked up to the driver and said in a thick, hard-to-understand dialect, "Stop the bus. I'm getting off here."
But then they noticed the liquor bottle next to the driver's seat.
"How can you drink and drive?"
"Ah, I'm just having a little something to stay awake!"
The driver's eyes were teary. He tilted his head back, yawned, scratched his hair with one hand, and replied casually.
But at that exact moment, the driver only loosened his grip for an instant.
The bus shot forward uncontrollably.
The country roads were already complex and dangerous.
A lapse of just a few seconds was all it took for the bus to veer off course and plunge off the cliff.