Chapter 11: You Won’t Believe Me If I Tell You

The livestream room was still lively, especially when everyone saw the streamer’s goofy, dazed expression.

“Taozi, you look off. Why do you have that ‘seen a ghost’ look on your face?”

“Taozi, what’s going on?”

“Wait a minute, didn’t you notice Taozi’s clothes look different?”

“No way! When did Taozi change his outfit? And why is he wearing ragged clothes like a beggar?”

“I know! The streamer didn’t just disconnect earlier; he actually logged off to change clothes. But what kind of fetish is this, dressing up like a beggar?”

“Hey, doesn’t anyone find it strange? Where did the streamer get those clothes from?”

“It must have been prepared beforehand. Taozi’s up to something; this whole thing was planned in advance, right?”

Everyone in the livestream only saw Zhang Tao’s stunned expression, unaware that the others in the car weren’t much better off. They were shocked not just by returning from the Qin dynasty to reality, but also by the disappearance of their traditional topknots the moment they returned. Yet, the clothes they had seized from the robbers were still on them, perfectly intact.

It was all too overwhelming.

Zhang Tao shifted his gaze from the window back to his phone screen, watching the flood of comments scrolling by. He swallowed nervously and blurted out, “Family, if I told you that I’ve just returned from a trip to the Qin dynasty, would you believe me?”

The moment he said this, the comment section exploded.

“Come on, Taozi, do we look like fools to you?”

“You’ve been in the car the whole time. You expect us to believe you went to the Qin dynasty? Don’t joke around.”

“That joke isn’t funny at all.”

“We treat you like a human, and you treat us like dogs! Block, block, definitely blocking!”

…

Jiang Ye, who was driving up front, almost burst out laughing when he heard Zhang Tao’s words.

Who in their right mind would believe that?

At least wait until tomorrow or the evening to say something like that. It might have been slightly more believable then.

Zhang Tao realized this was a mistake, but the words were already out. There was no taking them back. He had to grit his teeth and prove he was telling the truth — which, indeed, he was.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I have proof. I shot a video. I even saw Emperor Qin Shi Huang.”

“Seriously, I’m not lying. If you don’t believe me, ask the others in the car.”

He then pointed the camera at the others.

“Guys, help me out here. Tell them I’m not lying.”

Li Jianguo, a simple and honest man, felt awkward facing the camera but still said, “He’s not lying. We really did go to the Qin dynasty. The soldiers even took my phone.”

—

“Totally lying.”

“You can tell when honest people lie — their expressions don’t look natural.”

“Zhang Tao and that old man must be conspiring to fool us!”

…

“Wait, wait. I’m about to show you the video.”

Zhang Tao pulled out another phone, opened the video they had shot earlier in Langya of the welcoming procession for Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s eastern tour, and aimed the camera at the screen.

“See? Here’s the video as proof!”

Zhang Tao was excited. “If it were fake, I wouldn’t have this video on my phone. Family, as soon as I realized I had traveled to the Qin dynasty, the first thing I wanted was for all of you to see it with your own eyes when I saw Emperor Qin Shi Huang.”

As the video played, the comment stream paused for a moment.

“Whoa! There really is a video.”

“Look at the buildings—they do look like Qin-style architecture, though a bit dilapidated.”

“Wow, the Emperor’s procession is coming. Even before seeing it, the sound of the horse hooves is thrilling.”

“Could Zhang Tao really have gone to the Qin dynasty?!”

The shocked comments popped up briefly before being drowned out by skepticism.

“No way! No way! Someone actually believes this?”

“This video is obviously fake.”

“Now I get why Zhang Tao came to Hangzhou. Maybe he’s in on it with that tour guide. The fact that he had those clothes ready is proof enough.”

“They’re acting! You guys actually took it seriously?”

“This is clearly a staged act by Taozi. It’s ridiculous that anyone on the internet would fall for it.”

“This video must have been shot long ago, just waiting for this moment.”

“Streamers nowadays will do anything for fame.”

…

Zhang Tao stared at the shifting tide of comments, growing increasingly frustrated.

Sometimes, you tell them lies and they believe you. But when you tell the truth, they all think you’re lying.

These days, nobody trusts the truth, but lies get believed by the masses.

Thinking quickly, Zhang Tao shot back, “If you don’t believe me, go find out for yourselves. You say I hired people to shoot this in advance, right? The people in the video must be actors, right? Then go find them.”

“Besides, there has to be a filming location, right? Go find a place exactly like that.”

“Whoever finds it, I’ll reward you 100,000 yuan.”

Zhang Tao wanted to retort more, but suddenly the screen went black.

The livestream was reported and shut down!

“Damn it! Which jerk reported us?” Zhang Tao cursed.

Zhang Minghui said, “Don’t waste your effort. No one’s going to believe this.”

Liu Zhendong added, “You’ll just lose followers and it won’t be worth it. We know the truth ourselves; no matter what you say, those who don’t believe won’t ever believe.”

Despite their words, Zhang Tao felt sour inside.

He muttered, “No way. I have to upload this video online and let them prove it false if they can. Even if I become infamous, it’s still fame. Infamy is still fame.”

For content creators these days, the biggest fear is having no topics and no traffic, especially for small streamers like him with little fame or followers.

Without hesitation, Zhang Tao began editing. Within ten minutes, he uploaded the video to his own account.

Jiang Ye, smelling the foul stench from the clothes, pulled out fresh clothes from the storage space and called the others to change. As for himself, he would have to endure for now—he was driving and couldn’t change.

“Would you call these clothes antiques?” Zhang Minghui joked.

Liu Zhendong shook his head, “No, they haven’t aged enough.”

“Though not antiques, they’re quite memorable. Once we get back, we should wash and keep them well,” Wang Haifeng said with a smile.

By then, Jiang Ye had already exited the highway and was turning back toward Hangzhou.

When they arrived back at the ‘One Leaf Travel Agency,’ all but Li Jianguo were reluctant to leave, instead bombarding Jiang Ye with questions.

“Director Jiang, is there another one-day tour to the Qin dynasty?”

Zhang Tao wanted to go again. This trip had been a disaster; they’d spent most of their time in jail.

Zhang Minghui and the others stared at Jiang Ye with eager eyes.

Jiang Ye waved his hand, “Not for now.”

Without a system mission, there was no chance.

“When will there be another?” Wang Haifeng pressed.

If there was a chance, they definitely wanted to go again.

“Taozi, I’m adding you to the group chat. When the next Qin dynasty one-day tour is available, you have to notify us,” Zhang Tao insisted repeatedly, afraid Jiang Ye would forget. “You must tell us in the group chat—I promise I’ll be the first to sign up.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zhang Minghui and the others nodded in agreement.