Lin Xi had always thought of live streaming as a simple job: speak loudly, look presentable, and endure the occasional comment that told her she was ugly enough to scare children. It was a form of performance, a stage without an audience in the physical world, and she had learned to treat it as such. But tonight, standing in front of the camera with her ring light casting a harsh circle around her face, she realized something she had never admitted to herself before.
Live streaming was not just performance. It was gambling.
Every time she went live, she bet on herself. She bet that her voice would stay steady even if she was tired. She bet that her jokes would land even if she felt empty inside. She bet that viewers would stay, and not switch to a streamer with prettier hair or a better background. She bet that the platform's algorithm would favor her, and not bury her under a pile of other people who were younger, louder, or more desperate.
She took a deep breath and smiled at the camera, forcing the kind of brightness that always got her more likes.
"Okay, my beautiful idiots," she said, as if the phrase was a trademark. "Tonight we're doing something different."
The chat responded instantly, like a wave crashing against a cliff.
"Different how?"
"Are we doing a challenge?"
"Please don't do something scary, I'm scared of ghosts."
"Do it! Do it! Give us content!"
"Streamer, your face is already scary enough."
Lin Xi laughed. She loved this part. She loved how the chat could be cruel and funny at the same time, like a thousand tiny voices living inside her head. They didn't just watch her—they participated. They fed her. They shaped her.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plain white envelope. No logo, no name, no stamp. Just a simple envelope that looked like it had been delivered by accident or by someone who wanted to remain anonymous.
She held it up to the camera.
"Okay," she said. "You remember this?"
The chat paused for a moment, then exploded again.
"Where did you get that?"
"Is it a scam?"
"Don't open it!"
"Open it! We love mystery!"
"Streamer, if it's a scam, just throw it away."
Lin Xi smiled and turned the envelope over. The flap was sealed with a small black wax stamp. In the center of the stamp was a symbol she didn't recognize. It looked like a seven-pointed star, but the points were uneven, as if drawn by a hand that trembled.
"Guys," she said, "this is weird."
The chat quieted for a second, then someone typed:
"Open it."
Another message followed:
"Don't open it."
Another:
"Open it with a knife."
And one more:
"Open it with your teeth like a savage."
Lin Xi rolled her eyes and reached for a letter opener shaped like a tiny sword. She kept it in her drawer because she liked the dramatic feeling of cutting paper with something sharp and expensive-looking. She slid the blade under the flap and cut it open.
Inside was a single sheet of thick paper. It smelled faintly of old books and ink, as if it had been stored in a library for decades. Lin Xi unfolded it carefully.
The words were printed in a neat, elegant font.
WELCOME, LIN XI.
YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED.
YOU WILL ENTER THE LIVE WORLD.
YOU WILL HAVE SEVEN DAYS.
YOU MUST SURVIVE.
THE LIVE WORLD WILL END AFTER SEVEN DAYS.
IF YOU FAIL, YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE.
Lin Xi stared at the message. Her heart began to beat faster, as if her body was trying to warn her before her mind could catch up.
The chat erupted.
"What is this?"
"This is fake."
"Maybe it's a prank."
"Streamer, don't be stupid."
"Do you want to become famous? This is how you become famous."
Lin Xi forced a laugh, but it sounded wrong in her own ears. She looked back at the letter, hoping it would change if she stared long enough. The words remained the same, unwavering.
Then she noticed a small line at the bottom, like a footnote.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, IT'S TOO LATE.
The laugh died completely. Lin Xi's mouth went dry. The chat, which had been noisy and chaotic just moments before, went silent. Not just quiet—silent. It felt like the entire internet had stopped talking.
Her phone screen reflected in her eyes. She felt a chill run down her spine.
"Okay," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "This is getting creepy. But it's fine. It's just a prank, right?"
She looked at the envelope again. The black wax stamp seemed to glow faintly, as if it were alive. The camera lens flickered for a moment, and the screen went black.
When it returned, a new message appeared on her streaming interface—not in the chat, not in her notifications, but in the middle of her screen like a system alert.
[LIVE WORLD SYSTEM INITIATED]
[WELCOME, LIN XI]
[YOU HAVE ENTERED THE LIVE WORLD]
[DAY 1 BEGINS NOW]
[TASK: FIND YOUR FIRST CLUE]
Lin Xi stared at the message. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat.
She looked at the chat. The messages were still there, but they had changed. They were no longer random comments. They were guiding her.
"Look behind you."
"Check the curtain."
"Don't touch the phone."
"Turn off the lights."
Lin Xi turned slowly. Behind her, the black curtain that had always been part of her stage was moving. Not because of wind, but because something was pushing it. Something large, something alive.
The curtain shifted aside, revealing a door.
A plain wooden door. No handle, no lock. Just a door standing in the middle of her stage like it had always been there, waiting for her to notice.
The chat exploded again.
"GO THROUGH IT!"
"NOOOO!"
"Streamer, do it! We want content!"
"Maybe it's a portal to another game!"
Lin Xi stared at the door. Her body felt numb. She wanted to run, but her feet wouldn't move. She looked at the chat, at the thousands of people watching her, and realized with a strange clarity that she had never felt this kind of pressure in her life.
They wanted her to act.
She swallowed hard. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's do this."
She stepped toward the door. The wood was cold, like ice. She placed her hand on it. The surface was smooth, almost like polished stone.
The moment she touched it, the door opened.
A bright light poured out, blinding her for a second. Not a normal light, but a harsh, pure light that made her eyes sting.
The chat screamed.
"Don't go!"
"Go! Go!"
"Streamer, you're brave."
"Streamer, you're stupid."
Lin Xi took a deep breath and stepped through the door.
The light swallowed her.
For a moment she felt like she was falling, like her body had no weight. Then she landed.
She was no longer on her stage.
She was standing in a dark corridor. The air smelled of dust and old paper. The walls were lined with faded posters, torn and yellowed with age. The floor was covered in a thin layer of dust.
In the distance, she saw a sign.
WELCOME TO THE LIVE WORLD.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She turned around, but the door was gone. There was no stage, no camera, no ring light. Only the corridor.
She raised her phone. The camera was still recording. The stream was still live. The chat was still there.
But the chat had changed. The messages were no longer typed by people. They appeared on her screen as if the world itself was writing them.
"WELCOME, LIN XI."
"YOU HAVE ENTERED THE LIVE WORLD."
"YOU HAVE SEVEN DAYS."
"SURVIVE."
Lin Xi's mouth went dry. She looked down the corridor. It stretched farther than it should have, like a hallway in a dream. She took a step forward. The floor creaked under her weight. Her footsteps echoed.
She felt watched.
Every time she turned her head, she saw nothing. But the feeling of being observed remained. The corridor wasn't empty. It was filled with shadows. The shadows moved, but not like normal shadows. They moved with intention, like they were alive.
Lin Xi stopped walking and stared at her phone again. "Okay," she whispered, "this is not a game."
She continued. After a few minutes, she reached a door. The door had a sign: CLASSROOM 7.
She frowned. "Seven," she whispered.
The chat on her screen suddenly filled with messages.
"SEVEN IS IMPORTANT."
"SEVEN DAYS."
"SEVEN IS THE KEY."
"DON'T OPEN THE DOOR UNTIL YOU ARE READY."
Lin Xi stared at the messages, then at the door. Her hand hovered over the handle. She remembered the letter. The footnote.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, IT'S TOO LATE.
A cold shiver ran through her body, but beneath it was something else: a strange excitement. She had always wanted a story, something that would make her stand out. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the moment she became more than a normal streamer.
She opened the door.
Inside the classroom, the lights were dim. Desks were lined up in neat rows. A chalkboard covered the front wall. In the center of the room was a single desk, and on it sat a small black box.
Lin Xi approached the desk and opened the box. Inside was a black card. On it, written in white letters, was a single sentence.
"YOUR NAME IS YOUR FIRST CLUE."
Lin Xi stared at the card. She looked at the chalkboard. Written on it, in chalk that looked etched into the board, were two words.
LIN XI.
Her heart skipped. The room seemed to tilt. The chat began to scroll faster, as if the world was trying to catch up with her.
"Your name is the clue!"
"Maybe you're the shadow!"
"Maybe the shadow is your name!"
"Maybe the world is you!"
Lin Xi shook her head. "No," she whispered. "That's too weird."
She looked at the card again. "Your name is your first clue." She looked at the chalkboard. "Lin Xi."
She looked at her phone, at the chat, at the corridor, at the shadows. A cold fear settled in her bones.
She realized something.
The live world wasn't just a place. It was a test. A game. And the game was about her. About her identity.
She looked inside the box again. Beneath the card was another item: a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it. The paper was blank except for one word written in the corner.
WATCHERS.
Lin Xi's throat tightened. "Watchers?" she whispered.
The chat went silent. Then one message appeared.
"THE WATCHERS ARE REAL."
Lin Xi looked up at the chalkboard, at the desks, at the shadows. She felt someone standing behind her. She spun around quickly. No one was there.
But a shadow moved.
Not on the floor. Not on the wall. In the air, like a person. The shadow formed the shape of a girl with long hair and a hoodie, holding a phone. The shadow looked at Lin Xi and smiled.
Then it raised its phone, and the screen showed Lin Xi's stream.
The chat was still visible, but now it felt like the chat wasn't just on the phone. It was inside the room, inside the world.
The shadow spoke—not with words, but with a feeling. A feeling of being watched. Lin Xi's body froze.
She understood the truth.
The live world was not just a place she had entered. It was a place where people watched her. And those watchers were not just viewers. They were something else. Something that fed on her fear. Something that grew stronger every time she screamed.
Lin Xi swallowed hard and looked at the chalkboard again. She looked at the card, the paper, the shadows.
Then she made a decision.
"Okay," she whispered, to herself, to the chat, to the world. "Let's survive."