Chapter 743: Chapter Seven: Wandering the Horizon

Life on the waves is happy; Bai Lang deposited twenty thousand yuan of pocket money into his bank card, and tossed the rest into a few suitcases left in his hotel room—after all, he booked a long‑term room, and even the cleaners who come daily to tidy and change towels won't touch the sealed suitcases. Bai Lang wanders around like an ordinary clueless youngster, mainly acting as a show‑off, and after getting money he can hold himself together pretty well.

He wore a plain hoodie, his pants were outdoor trousers from Taobao—don't say Bai Lang is stingy, those pants cost at least a thousand yuan. His shoes were, of course, lightweight, agile climbing boots. From head to toe his outfit was simple. On the back of the hoodie and on the left chest there was a Megatron logo—Bai Lang vaguely recalled having once seen a tin man; the one in the tavern had a very obvious Megatron logo, swaggering loudly.

Bai Lang is now clean‑shaven, his hair and face have been carefully groomed; his hair is a crisp one‑inch short cut, and his beard—well, he can only shave it daily, yet it stays a fresh stubble, truly a fine beard. His eyebrows, though trimmed, quickly grow back like flames, making them thick. When this person walks on the street, people are truly startled, exuding the imposing aura of a street‑clearing tiger.

He walked eight hundred meters out and was asked for his ID eight times.

Of course this is an international metropolis; it's not like his current situation is secret, nor is he a low‑key guy, so many people give Bai Lang a respectful nod. His looks and bearing are exceptionally heroic, and his tall, broad, muscular build makes him a top‑notch hanger‑on. He could be a male model; at least Bai Lang heard whispers like, "Is there a male model like that?" Bai Lang, clutching a freshly bought hometown chicken, sat right on the edge of a flowerbed, gnawing it with a large bottle of cola.

For most people that would be a tarnished image, but for Bai Lang it's just his true self, and indeed a girl even came over asking for his WeChat ID—such a bold, unrestrained man is truly rare. The key is his good looks; nowadays there are many internet‑famous pretty boys, but a genuinely handsome, upright gentleman still fits the public's aesthetic, and if Bai Lang were placed in ancient times he'd be a classic beauty. qqxsnew

Bai Lang sat on the street curb, scanning the surroundings—he's no longer short of money and, with his martial skills, naturally exudes confidence and ease. He wandered onto Taikang Road, a hotspot for internet celebrities, thinking, "It vaguely feels a bit inferior to Lingdu's Taigu Plaza." He also eyed the streamers coming and going; it wasn't just a little worse—it was far worse than Lingdu's Taigu Plaza.

There, you'll find all kinds of bizarrely dressed freaks, even terrifying men in ultra‑short skirts.

Bai Lang's presence is obviously eye‑catching; a streamer rushed over and asked if they could borrow his image. Bai Lang didn't even ask about payment, "If you pay me, can I have eight million? Just consider it a good deed, hahahaha." Since the streamer didn't have a snake‑demon face and her skin was lively, not the kind that's been slashed by a big knife, Bai Lang agreed to appear on camera. The girl's makeup skills were excellent; at least Bai Lang could tell she was truly a beauty.

She was dressed entirely in hanfu, and the specifics of her hair bun and accessories need not be examined—just looking the part was enough. She was lively, hopping as if conducting an interview, and Bai Lang smiled and played along, spouting outright lies: when asked her name she said "I'm Hei Hai," her education "elementary school graduate," and her income "the truth is I'm an unemployed drifter..."

All Bai Lang had to do was pose cool on camera; in the bullet comments, many "licking dogs" asked who the livestream girl was, why she'd pick someone like him, and urged to call the police… it was pure envy and jealousy. Bai Lang just laughed at the comments; the stream turned out surprisingly good. Such a towering male figure is rare, attracting not only the original girl's fanboys but also a number of wealthy young mistresses.

Bai Lang's physique and looks truly rank first. Later other streamers wanted to come, but Bai Lang declined, "There are already plenty of people here pretending to be photographers with their cameras." He glanced at them and sighed. There are many who wield big‑cannon‑like props, probably the ones who have kept Sony and Canon alive to this day; in Bai Lang's view, using those things now even a cosplay girl would be hard to trick into a shoot.

Bai Lang enjoys gaming and visiting exhibitions, especially a museum that boasts "half the country's treasures." Though he's an expert on all sorts of ancient artifacts, his own calligraphy and painting aren't famous, but he once passed the imperial examination, so he can appreciate quality. Back then many such items were in the palace, but he never got to see them. As for the pieces his colleagues own, he's only examined them a few times; however, Master Yue, since becoming the head of the academy, has collected many paintings and calligraphy, so Bai Lang has seen more of those.

As for bronze ware, he knows nothing about it. He didn't realize he'd already gone viral on some corners of the internet—though his fashion sense is mediocre, he's a modern Xi Li Ge, a living hanger‑on. His looks are even more heroic than Xi Li Ge's, and that started with a single photo. In the picture he's slightly flushed, having taken off his hoodie and tied it around his waist, his upper body in a crew‑neck T‑shirt, perfectly showcasing his robust physique.

It's not the pathological muscles of a bodybuilding champion, but the genuine, sturdy flesh of a strong man. Bai Lang's gaze is sharp; he doesn't look at the camera but strides forward, his form perfectly proportioned with the old street and historic buildings behind him. Such trends are fleeting; Bai Lang knows he may not stay famous long, but as he walked, pondering where to wander, a man suddenly appeared before him.

The man handed over a business card, hoping to talk. Bai Lang looked at it, "An agency?" He thought it sounded a bit shady, like someone on the street stopping you saying, "Brother, you're good looking, why not become a star?" He'd rather hear a fellow on the alley say, "Bro, you look fine, let's get into the underworld together." "What do you want from me? Agencies aren't reliable; an advertising firm would be more credible."

"Yes, yes, it's an advertising agency looking for someone to shoot a line of men's products." The guy nodded repeatedly. Bai Lang stroked his bristly chin, "It's not that thing, right? Tell me, are you from Okamoto or Jissbon?"