Chapter 731

The next day, the promotional video, cut into twelve segments, was released across all platforms; moreover, Xie Zhiyao and his team produced a massive pile of overly poetic copy: "How many people have never left their hometown within two hundred li—life demands at least one trip to Dali," "I'm waiting here for the wind, and for you," "Breathe the wind of Dali's Yunmiao,"—all aimed squarely at those who fancied themselves artistic.

In addition, still hungover, Xie Zhiyao arrived early at Youfeng Xiaoyuan to find Wang Yan, hoping to secure more behind-the-scenes footage for bonus content.

Wang Yan, of course, did not refuse; within less than two hours, he produced dozens of behind-the-scenes clips, each two to three minutes long. Xie Zhiyao thanked him profusely and left with the videos; less than an hour later, the villagers of Yunmiao Village collectively began releasing the clips.

In the afternoon, the Dali Cultural Tourism Bureau arrived at Yunmiao Village with reporters to inspect the situation and assist with promotion—this was the result of Huang Xinxin and Xie Zhiyao's efforts over the past month, though it still required the documentary to pass official review.

This morning, the documentary was released, and its popularity surged rapidly; even without Huang Xinxin's prior visits to government offices, the Cultural Tourism Bureau would have come forward anyway. Dali is already a popular destination, but the government still wanted to elevate it further.

Dali's pillar industry is the tertiary sector, accounting for nearly fifty percent of the entire prefecture's GDP. Increasing the primary and secondary sectors is difficult due to the region's location and environment, so economic growth must focus entirely on the tertiary sector—only by continuously raising the upper limit of Dali's tertiary industry can the prefecture's economy experience substantial growth.

Thus, the Cultural Tourism Bureau arrived in the afternoon with great enthusiasm, conducting numerous interviews, even approaching Wang Yan for one—but Wang Yan declined, disliking the spotlight. Still, they learned his story indirectly, even resurrecting the old story of him catching thieves, which had long lost its buzz.

After a lively afternoon, the Dali Cultural Tourism Bureau acted that evening: they reposted Yunmiao Village's promotional video and aired their own interview footage, digging deep into the backstory. They framed a simple effort to boost a small village's tourism as a political achievement—new rural construction, educated youth returning home to benefit their hometowns, ambitious college student village officials working diligently, and so on.

No need to elaborate further: if the promotion remains hot and, after the frenzy fades, Yunmiao Village's daily visitor count stabilizes at five hundred, Xie Zhiyao will grow rich quickly, and the villagers' incomes will rise substantially.

As a college student village official, Huang Xinxin can now apply for selection and targeted recruitment; her future may not be limitless, but it is certainly promising. With this achievement and resume, the bureaucratic threshold—from clerk to official—that others spend years struggling to cross is no obstacle for her.

Although Dali's tourism has peak and off-seasons, the sheer volume of tourists and the limited geographic area around Erhai Lake ensure that foreign visitors remain numerous and the place stays bustling.

Thanks to the earlier coordinated viral blitz by Yunmiao Village and the short-video recommendation algorithm, this full promotional video reached first and foremost those already traveling in Dali.

Such a polished promotional video perfectly showcased the scenery and cuisine; even if it didn't stir desire, mere curiosity would draw people in—after all, they were already there. A new internet-famous village had appeared; if they didn't stroll around, take photos, and post a nine-grid circle-of-friends update with poetic captions, wouldn't they have wasted their trip?

Thus, on the day of release, after several hours of buildup, when the Cultural Tourism Bureau and media arrived to interview, Yunmiao Village's visitor count had already surpassed the earlier preheating peak of over two hundred; by night, dozens were stranded due to lack of public transport, and villagers with cars used village subsidies to drive them back to the city.

On the second day after the promotional video's release, Yunmiao Village truly exploded in popularity. Even before outsiders arrived, the tourists already in Dali overwhelmed Yunmiao's reception capacity.

On this same day, after a day of buildup, every official and unofficial entity chasing the trend began posting videos: "Can you believe it? A whole village made a two-hour promotional video," "Help! Yunmiao Village has raised the bar on promotion to new heights," and similar headlines. Tourists arriving at Yunmiao also kept posting videos, and locations like the horse ranch, campsite, wood carving studio, embroidery studio, tie-dye studio, and pottery studio appeared before netizens in third-person perspective.

Of course, the most common sight was crowds—after all, Yunmiao Village is tiny. The sudden surge in popularity overwhelmed its capacity; the village itself became congested. Only by eight p. m., as time passed, did the village finally quiet down, allowing each household to quietly reflect on the village's transformation.

Those without businesses, timid and prone to second-guessing, discussed with their families whether to wait longer; the bold ones immediately inventoried their assets and planned to set up stalls right away; those already in business, having finally eaten after a long day, calculated at home how much they'd earned.

After a week, Yunmiao Village's visitor numbers didn't drop—they increased, as outsiders began arriving. To reach Yunmiao, they had to come to Dali, and Dali itself was already a famous tourist destination; the online hype had pushed Dali's tourism to new heights.

Everyone understood why Dali had exploded. The deputy leader in charge of cultural tourism in Dali came to Yunmiao Village and held a meeting in the village committee office, themed on how to better serve tourists and enhance their experience. At the meeting, the deputy leader issued directives to earnestly fulfill…

Da Mai stood in the courtyard, stretching and kicking in slow, then fast motions, practicing Zhen Badao Jin. Her movements were precise and standard—she had personally experienced the power of this practice; Wang Laoshi had said the more precise the movements, the better the results, so she must be meticulous.

Hearing the creak of the wooden door, she didn't stop her movements, but slowly turned her head with her hands, facing the entrance: "Wang Laoshi, good morning."

"Good morning, Da Mai. You've got dark circles—did you stay up late last night?" Wang Yan replied with a smile, turning to shut the door. Though it was only seven-something, tourists were already wandering about—this was the inevitable cost of sudden fame; peace was unattainable.

Da Mai finished her final movements, her hands circling from her head, across her chest, and ending at her abdomen—a perfect, finished posture—then exhaled the stale air.

Only then did she wipe the slight sweat from her forehead and follow Wang Yan into the side room, sighing: "You're leaving today, aren't you? I've stayed three months—I'm reluctant. I feel empty inside."

She sighed again, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it down in large gulps. Then, washing her face at the kitchen sink, she enjoyed the pure, natural water.

"You're just too scattered in thought, overthinking. It's not like the old days of slow carriages and horses—you have phones, planes, easy contact. Nothing to be sentimental about," Wang Yan said, preparing breakfast, then asked, "I checked last night—you finished your last novel, didn't you? Perfect timing."

Hearing this, Da Mai felt a small pride; her melancholy vanished instantly, replaced by a smile: "Actually, I was going to finish a few days later, but lately I've been writing more and faster, so I wrapped it up exactly last night."

"What about your new book? Started writing yet?"

"Not yet. I believe in finishing what you start—I've been busy wrapping up the old one. I'll start the new book when I get home, stockpile some drafts, then publish directly. Hey, Wang Laoshi, don't forget to read it. If there's anything lacking, tell me right away—I'll fix it."

"Don't worry, I'll support it. After all, I helped you develop the outline for half a month—I count as a co-creator. I remember your flight is at noon. Your luggage ready?"

"Packed. Not much—I sent everything I've accumulated back home already."

Wang Yan nodded: "Good. After breakfast and freshening up, we'll leave."

Da Mai waved her hand: "No need to trouble yourself, Wang Laoshi. I can go alone."

"How can that be?" Hu Youyu yawned as he walked in. "When Old Ma left, he slipped away quietly—that was fine. But you? We must see you off. We already agreed yesterday—we're all taking you to the airport. Don't be so polite. Besides, Yunmiao Village is too popular now—packed solid. You think you can just walk out? You won't even get a taxi, the bus is full—how are you going to walk forty kilometers with a suitcase?"

Da Mai fell silent. It was true. To handle Yunmiao's explosion, a huge parking area had been designated outside, and many taxis volunteered to shuttle back and forth, yet even city taxis were hard to find—still not enough, as more people kept arriving.

Wang Yan smiled: "Hu Laoshi's right. I've got nothing else to do—might as well treat it like a drive. Come on, wash up and eat."

The three had just sat down to eat when Xu Hongdou and Seeing Nana entered, still half-asleep.

Hu Youyu clucked his tongue: "Look at this—exhausted. Xie Zhiyao really treats people like beasts. Seeing Nana's fine—she at least gets paid. But Hongdou? Not a single cent. Wang Laoshi, you should scold Xie Zhiyao."

Before Wang Yan could speak, Xu Hongdou yawned and walked to the sink to wash her hands: "I volunteered. I'm not like you, Wang Laoshi, lounging around comfortably. I'm a workhorse—I can't sit still. Besides, Xie Zhiyao returned my deposit and even provided all the food we've eaten. We could've managed fine, but the two new hires are clumsy—everything gets messier the busier we get. I'm just tired of babysitting them."

"That's gratitude for Wang Laoshi's promotional video, not because you worked at the little restaurant," Hu Youyu waved his hand, sighing. "But Wang Laoshi really is amazing—once the video dropped, wow, crowds everywhere. I heard Sangzang Flower, Yiwei Restaurant, and Yang Guanjun's barbecue stall made a fortune—each earning thousands a day. Oh, right—Xie Zhiyao, with all his businesses, must've earned more in this period than he did in months before. I'm even thinking of going to the village square to sing."

Wang Yan waved his hand modestly: "I'm not that great—just competent enough. The real credit goes to Yunmiao Village's committee—they rallied the villagers to post videos, creating momentum, plus government cooperation and multiple factors combined. Without all that, it wouldn't be this popular—it's not just my doing. But Seeing Nana's been worn out lately—she looks exhausted. You should take a few days off."

Seeing Nana was washing her hands too: "I'd love to, but the restaurant's so busy now—how can I rest? Hu Laoshi said it himself: Hongdou's a volunteer; working is kindness, not duty. I'm a paid employee—I have to fulfill my contract, not to mention the friendship. We'll talk after this rush."

Hu Youyu bounced his leg smugly, chuckling: "You're in for it—I've seen online, the crowds grow every day."

Da Mai rolled her eyes, defending her friend: "You're making it sound like Seeing Nana's done something wrong. Just eat your food."

"Hey, I'm just a talkative fool. Let's change the subject—tell you about my mind-blowing performance at the music festival in Beijing."

Except Wang Yan, the other three rolled their eyes. Seeing Nana said: "Da Mai, the moment I think you're leaving, I'll miss our late-night snacks—I don't want you to go."

Seeing the three women chatting, Hu Youyu sheepishly lowered his head and ate.

Wang Yan said nothing, didn't join the women's conversation, instead scrolling on his phone, reading online reactions to Yunmiao Village's promotion.

After a quiet two minutes, Hu Youyu exclaimed: "Wang Laoshi, I heard Da Mai's room's already rented out—to a single woman."

"What do you mean?" Wang Yan smiled.

"I thought when she arrives, you could cover for me—give me a beautiful love story."

Seeing Nana glared, tapping the table: "How can you be so annoying? Da Mai hasn't even left yet, and you're already talking about the new arrival?"

Hu Youyu chuckled: "I know you're close, but it's not a deathbed farewell. When Da Mai gets home, you'll video-call three times a day—I guarantee, in two days you'll have nothing left to say."

Xu Hongdou laughed: "Stop talking—you see the look in Seeing Nana's eyes?"

"If looks could kill, you'd already be sliced into a thousand pieces," Da Mai said, pretending to be fierce, making a cross in the air with her hand, hissing "tsk-tsk" for sound.

Hu Youyu didn't mind, smiled, shrugged at Wang Yan, his eyes still playful—as if saying, "Wang Laoshi, see? Women…"

Wang Yan raised an eyebrow, returned a knowing smile: "I understand."

Hu Youyu was just like that—loud, careless, yet extremely sensitive, with a closed-off inner world. Seeing Nana's state was clearly bad—anyone could see it. Having known her long-term, they could sense her mindset was off. So Hu Youyu didn't care about her attitude—he assumed it was just because Yunmiao's explosion meant more tourists, heavier workload, and strange encounters; he understood.

But the reality wasn't that simple. Seeing Nana's mindset was indeed off—but work was only a small part. The bigger reason was her past donation incident as a livestreamer.

Previously, when she livestreamed her birthday, she said she would donate all the tips from that day to sick fans; she earned thirty thousand that day, added another twenty thousand to make fifty thousand, and donated it all—but netizens said she donated too little, then the platform provided proof of that day's revenue, and netizens still claimed she earned far more, saying her clothes and jewelry were expensive, accusing her of faking a charitable persona by pretending others had serious illnesses, until she was driven to the brink, which is why she came here.

Now Yunmiao Village has gone viral, and tourist numbers arriving in Dali have surged dramatically; people from all over the country have come, with over a thousand visitors daily to Yunmiao Village. She still appears publicly working at her shop at the village entrance, worried someone might recognize her and ruin her peaceful life, afraid these people around her no longer trust her, her heart restless, so she performs poorly during the day and cannot rest well at night from overthinking.

Worry and anxiety naturally make one irritable, easily provoked, and since Huyouyu is the type who's always talkative, meddlesome, and a pushover, it's no surprise he gets upset after just a few words…

The three women chatted while the two men stayed silent; they finished breakfast, each washed up and packed, then set off together to Dali Airport to see Dama off. Huyouyu volunteered to carry Dama's luggage, happily.

As soon as they stepped outside, they were met with crowds—it was nearly nine o'clock, and many had already arrived. So while their walk to the village entrance wasn't extremely difficult, it wasn't easy either.

Only when everyone was seated in the car did they all exhale deeply. Huyouyu slumped back in the plush leather seat of the passenger side, pointing at the cars surrounding them: "Look, look at these cars. I feel so complicated now. Yunmiao Village is popular, right? That's definitely a good thing—villagers' incomes have risen, and they don't have to leave home to work anymore. But now there are so many people, swarming everywhere, it's way too noisy. And our Youfeng Xiaoyuan's room rates are going up too. Used to be twenty-five hundred, now it's thirty-five hundred. Ah…"

Dama laughed: "You said so much—I think you just want to raise the room rate."

"A single coin can defeat a hero. Even though I've been earning more lately, you still have to save where you can and spend where you must. Besides, all this noise really disrupts life. Dama, let me ask you—if you'd come to Yunmiao Village back then knowing it'd be this noisy, would you still have come?"

"Definitely not—it would've ruined my work."

"See? That's exactly it." Huyouyu shook his head and smiled. "Wang Laoshi, I bet when we leave and come back, you won't even find a parking spot."

"No need to guess—it definitely won't be there."

The parking lot already has several staff with walkie-talkies directing cars, and spots are hard to come by.

Wang Yan smiled: "It's fine. When we return, you all go about your business—I'll wait here slowly. As Hongdou says, I'm a lazy man—I've got plenty of time."

The road out of Yunmiao Village was easy to travel; everyone along the way laughed and chatted. What they spoke of now carried a tone of nostalgia, recalling the things they'd experienced together.

The memories here held no sorrow—only joy; everyone grinned broadly.

Even as they waved Dama off at the airport, they smiled—and Seeing Nana even jumped up and down…