Chapter 78: The Livestream Begins

10.16, at 8:40 in the morning, the dawn light over Pan'an Ski Resort pierced through the clouds, dyeing the pristine white slopes a warm gold.

Qin Yun had already changed into the gear delivered by Huanteng Sports and stood at the starting point of the advanced slope. The matte-black professional snowboard gleamed with a muted sheen, and the logo on his matching snow suit was clearly visible.

The main drone had been calibrated, and the control of the secondary drone was now handed by Qin Yun to Zhao Yajun and Li Xintian.

Because this was an extreme sport, aside from one main drone that could use AI to lock onto him, the secondary drone had to be manually operated to better capture the footage; otherwise, at such high speeds, many shots simply couldn't be shown on screen.

He'd taught the two of them for over an hour yesterday; the price was that today the two had to work for him.

He clipped on the DJI action camera, and Su Huan's voice came through the earpiece, tinged with excitement: "Qin Yun, everything's ready, we can go live anytime. The reservation count has already blown past 180,000."

Qin Yun nodded, pulled down his face mask to reveal only a pair of eyes: "Got it. I'll start the stream at nine sharp."

As he spoke, he stepped onto the board and glided lightly a couple of times. He'd already gotten familiar with the Huanteng gear—far better than the one he'd hastily bought, though clearly not top-tier either, but for him it was more than enough.

Compared to yesterday's, it was lighter and had more flex.

On the other side, Zhao Yajun, who was controlling the secondary drone, was equally thrilled, even a little nervous. The two of them huddled in a corner, looking from afar like a pair of snowmen, cheeks flushed red, looking eager to give it a try.

"Xintian, how many viewers do you think Boss Qin's stream will pull in?"

Li Xintian shrugged: "How would I know?"

"Asking you is pointless—you're not even Boss Qin's fan." Zhao Yajun turned to look at Qin Yun, admiration shining in her eyes. "Boss Qin is seriously badass. Being handsome would be enough, but he knows so much too."

"Feeling something?"

Zhao Yajun nodded without hesitation: "Duh, if Boss Qin could be my boyfriend, I'd happily bear his children right now."

Li Xintian's face flushed: "You have no shame!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Soon, the final ten-second countdown began. Qin Yun tapped to start the livestream on the main drone, then gestured to Zhao Yajun, and instantly his wide shot appeared on screen.

"Hello everyone, I'm Qin Yun, a temporary extreme-skiing enthusiast. I'm currently at Jinhua Pan'an Ski Resort. This resort covers a whopping 300,000 square meters and is one of Zhejiang's top ski resorts, with beginner, intermediate, and advanced slopes. Any friends who are interested are welcome to come experience it."

After delivering his opening lines, Qin Yun noticed the comments scrolling at breakneck speed.

"Holy crap, Boss Qin finally started streaming! I set eight alarms just so I wouldn't miss it."

"Wow, this snow scenery is gorgeous—morning light paired with white snow, the vibe is maxed out."

"Boss Qin's gear looks so cool today, what brand is it? I'm gonna grab a set too."

"Anyone in the know? That snowboard under Boss Qin's feet looks pretty unusual."

"Don't ask, just check the showcase—it's Huanteng Sports, the top domestic ski brand."

"Is Boss Qin actually any good? I've heard that bad students have the best stationery. Your gear is so professional, don't crash and burn."

"Trust Boss Qin!"

Reading the comments, Qin Yun smiled: "The gear I'm wearing is all sponsored by Huanteng Sports. Anyone who plays winter sports knows Huanteng Sports is a top domestic brand—you can't go wrong choosing their products. As for whether I can pull it off, how can a man ever say he can't? You'll find out soon enough."

"Today I have two tasks. The first one needs to be completed using this snowboard under my feet."

As he spoke, the number of viewers in the stream skyrocketed, breaking twenty thousand in no time. The comments held fans' anticipation and flattery, but of course also doubt and teasing. Even the showcase had already racked up a few scattered orders.

"Boss Qin, hurry up and tell us."

"The most badass domestic snowboarder should be Olympic gold medalist Su Yiming, right?"

"What is Boss Qin going to challenge?"

"Please tell me it's not some extreme-difficulty trick?"

"Can't wait!"

Qin Yun adjusted his center of gravity. The slope he was on now was a free-riding slope—the big jump wasn't here.

"The first task I've set for myself is Su Yiming's back-to-back 1980. But before that, I'll demonstrate step by step from basics to advanced, and I'll also explain some little skiing tips—newcomers, feel free to pay close attention."

"Oh right, all the gear I'm wearing is in the showcase, including the DJI equipment. Friends who need it can go check it out—the quality is beyond question."

His words came naturally, without any forced product placement—fulfilling the sponsor's requirements without turning off his fans.

The comments instantly lit up with a chorus of "Got it, got it," and the showcase orders ticked up a few more notches. Staff from Huanteng Sports and DJI messaged from the backend, repeatedly expressing their satisfaction.

But the comment section was mostly filled with stunned reactions!

"Boss Qin, I don't deny you're badass, but the back-to-back 1980 you're challenging has an off-the-charts difficulty rating. Internationally, the only person who can land it consistently is Su Yiming."

"The streamer is getting cocky. I'll be waiting for the face-slap."

"Boss Qin probably doesn't know what back-to-back 1980 means. The number of people in the world who can land it can be counted on one hand."

"It's over, Boss Qin got too proud."

Of course, where there was doubt, there was also support—though that support looked pretty brainless.

"Trust Boss Qin. If Boss Qin says he can do it, he definitely can."

"I'm Boss Qin's die-hard fan. If Boss Qin says he can fly, I believe it too."

"Boss Qin is badass, pushing the limits, sign up for the Olympics."

Qin Yun paid no attention to any of it. He jumped in place a couple of times, let the main drone fly to his left side, and stabilized its distance and angle from him. As long as he moved, the drone would follow. At such high speeds, only the AI livestream drone he had on hand could manage this—it had to react and calculate instantly, placing extreme demands on the machine.

"Alright, enough talk, let's get started."

Having said that, Qin Yun stopped hesitating. With a slight push from his feet, the snowboard shot forward, charging down the advanced slope.

Zhao Yajun immediately piloted the secondary drone to follow closely. With the AI switching, the three camera angles could shift freely at any moment.

At first, Qin Yun didn't show off any particularly difficult moves, instead opening with consecutive carved turns. Both feet planted on the board, his body leaning slightly forward, core tightened, the board's edge cutting precisely into the snow without a single skidding mark, leaving two smooth, clean arcs—like musical notes drawn on a blank page.

His movements were composed and elegant, not fast, but every transition was precise and crisp, his center of gravity shifting naturally and fluidly, without the slightest trace of unfamiliarity.

Most importantly, Qin Yun's stream featured an exhilarating background soundtrack, and combined with the camera switches, the overall effect made people feel as if they were right there.

"Damn, I'm taking back what I said. Boss Qin's carved turns are way too textbook."

"Any skiers in the know care to explain what level Boss Qin is at?"

"I'm here, I'm here, snowboard coach answering live. Boss Qin's doing continuous large-radius carved turns—precise edge control, no skidding, very stable center of gravity, very high level. But we can't tell anything else yet."

"I'm a coach at Pan'an Ski Resort. Among our staff, the only one who can reach this level is our head coach—he's retired from the provincial team."

I thought Brother Qin was just doing this livestream for fun.

In the camera frame, Qin Yun paid no attention to the comments—he couldn't see them.

He continued adjusting his movements, beginning to demonstrate more advanced techniques. First, he slowed his speed and completed a flat 180-degree spin on the slope, the motion fluid and natural, with not a single stutter; immediately after the spin, he transitioned into a carve, the board's edge biting into the snow again, leaving a perfect arc. Then he executed a backside 180-degree aerial spin, pushing off with both feet, launching the board into the air, twisting his body 180 degrees mid-air with a textbook grab, landing solidly with almost no board slippage.

This sequence of moves flowed like clouds and water, seamless and uninterrupted, with not a trace of hesitation.

The livestream instantly erupted, and at this moment, the viewer count had quietly surpassed one hundred thousand.

This was unimaginable at nine o'clock in the morning.

"Snowboard coach Niu (National Level One Athlete): Brother Qin's foundation is incredibly solid, his center of gravity perfectly controlled, upper body stable, lower body force evenly distributed, cutting angle precise, no wasted motion—he's unquestionably a master."

"Ye Shen: From my professional perspective, the streamer is extremely impressive—conservatively speaking, he's on my level, maybe even stronger."

"Holy shit, who the hell is upstairs, so damn good?"

"Damn, I checked, my bad—I just realized it's Ye Kangjia, last year's snowboard obstacle champion, a legend of the skiing world."

"Lin Mo, dual-ski competitor: As a dual-ski athlete, I don't usually ride snowboards, but Brother Qin's stance is undeniably that of a master—especially since Ye Shen said so, there's no room for doubt."

With these comments posted, the livestream exploded; the earlier skepticism vanished completely, replaced by nothing but praise and awe, with the viewer count surging upward.

"My god, all these masters are coming out to praise Brother Qin—he's insane."

"So Brother Qin wasn't just playing around—he really has skill! I'm subscribed!"

"Huanteng Sports totally won this round."

"Brother Qin, show us something harder—let us see something amazing."

Qin Yun seemed to have seen the comments. After gliding a bit further, he suddenly crouched slightly, pressed hard with his back foot on the tail, gently lifted the nose with his front foot, and using the board's elasticity, launched himself airborne once more. In mid-air, he tightened his core, maintained perfect balance, hovered for a second, then landed smoothly. The board gently kissed the snow surface without a single tremor.

He didn't stop, but instead executed three consecutive ollies, each smoother than the last, each higher than the previous. On the final ollie, he added a simple grab in mid-air, then immediately transitioned into a carve—his movements utterly stylish.

In the livestream, fans' cheers rose and fell in waves; every comment was filled with "So cool!" and "Brother Qin is awesome!" The viewer count had surpassed one hundred fifty thousand, and the sales of gear in the storefront reached their first small peak.

"My god, three consecutive ollies, still linking into a carve—this technique is insane."

"What matters isn't the technique—it's the effortless control. It's as if Qin Yun does these moves as easily as we walk."

"Incredible—is Qin Yun was born skiing?"

"Impressive, but I want to see something harder."

At this point, the livestream wasn't just filled with ordinary fans—many professionals from the skiing circle were watching, even several professional athletes who had been recommended by fellow enthusiasts.

Meanwhile, in Beijing, the marketing director of Anta Sports had stumbled upon this livestream. Seeing the Huanteng Sports logo on Qin Yun's gear, he frowned.

He immediately called over a marketing manager: "Didn't they come to us yesterday to talk about sponsorship?"

He had handed the matter off yesterday due to other commitments; now it seemed the deal had fallen through—had they demanded something outrageous?

The manager glanced at the livestream's viewer count, froze for a moment, then said: "We offered to sponsor all his equipment for free, but they wanted sponsorship fees, so I refused."

"What?"

The director stood up instantly, his face filled with shock—not at the numbers, but at the manager's ignorance. He snapped angrily: "Didn't you even look into the situation? Look at this—over a hundred thousand viewers! Do you know how much it costs us to get a livestream with this kind of viewership? Three million! How much did they ask for?"

"Th… thirty thousand." The manager broke into a sweat, hastily defending himself: "He's not even a professional athlete—I thought he was just doing this for fun, so I—"

"So what the fuck? Do you have no brain—"

On this side, the director cursed the manager into the ground, while Huanteng Sports' team couldn't stop grinning—they had truly won big, just as the comment section had said.

At this moment, Qin Yun had just landed from a 360-degree spin, leaving a beautiful S-shaped track on the snow.

This slightly more difficult maneuver completely ignited the livestream's atmosphere; many fans' gifts now filled the entire screen.

Qin Yun pulled up the drone feed on his display, thanked the viewers, and replied to several of the praising comments.

"I've warmed up enough—let's get serious now."

"Brother Qin is about to show off—everyone move out of the way."

"Hahaha, this was just warm-up? Is Brother Qin joking?"

"I feel like I'm about to get wet, but if he says it's warm-up, then fine, it's warm-up."

"Ye Shen: If my guess is right, this really is just warm-up for him—I'm already getting excited."