Chapter 55: If I…

Suicide?

Standing on the rooftop while drinking alcohol?

The lively atmosphere in the livestream chat instantly turned sour.

To be honest, we've seen everything in the livestream—viewers screaming curses at the host, drunks sobbing and calling for their mothers.

For viewers like this who deliberately cause trouble, the director cuts them off immediately.

But a livestreamed suicide? We've never encountered this before—the director is pacing frantically and dares not disconnect the line.

After all, the man on the rooftop could leap at any moment and perish in the bustling city.

Xiao Yue'er is a seasoned host who's weathered many storms, but faced with this dire situation, she too couldn't help but panic.

When she looked again at Cheng Chen, she saw him writing six characters on his notepad:

Call police, trace the number!

Xiao Yue'er nodded urgently and waved the note toward the soundproof glass.

The director saw the note, immediately dialed the number, and signaled through his headset for Xiao Yue'er and Cheng Chen to calm the boy down first.

Xiao Yue'er nodded and forced her voice to sound gentler:

"Young man… please don't give up. Life is still beautiful. Think of your family—they're still waiting for you at home. You're still young, with a bright future ahead. Don't let them down!"

"All of it's gone. I have no family… the only person who cared for me is about to marry someone else. There's nothing left in this world worth staying for."

The boy's tone was filled with despair—utter hopelessness, nothing more.

Hearing this, Xiao Yue'er grew even more anxious, her eyes darting toward the chaotic scene outside.

That was the station's leadership rushing over in a panic.

"What's going on? How dare you let this call through? If anything happens, it's a broadcast disaster! Can you take responsibility for this? What's the situation inside right now?"

The station chief looked about forty, his hair neatly combed, flanked by several other officials; now he turned to the director, face flushed with urgency.

The director hurriedly replied:

"This was part of the listener interaction segment. He didn't mention suicide at first. By the time we realized, we couldn't cut the line—we were afraid something would happen."

The station chief's face turned ashen:

"Have you called the police?"

"We've called and sent the boy's number to them, but it'll still take time for them to confirm his location and arrive. All we can do here is buy time."

"Buy time? Who's the guest on today's livestream?"

"A recently popular singer?"

"Singer?" The chief had a fiery temper—he suddenly exploded: "How is a singer supposed to buy time? He's not a psychologist!"

The director shrank back, silent.

Now, only Xiao Yue'er can help…

The livestream was in chaos, but Cheng Chen's blog surged back into popularity.

"Did you hear? Someone's going to kill themselves in Boss's livestream!"

"I'm listening too—this boy's such a tragedy. Boss, please save him!"

"Please, Boss, save him! He's a young, living soul!"

…

"Crack!"

A sharp sound came through the headphones, startling everyone.

The boy had smashed the bottle against the rooftop.

Xiao Yue'er wanted to keep persuading him, but under this pressure, she didn't know what to say—afraid of provoking him further.

His resolve was firm—he clearly intended to die; no one could dissuade him now.

But could they just watch helplessly as a living soul vanished before their eyes?

He was only in his twenties—so much life still ahead!

How could they save him?

"Teacher Cheng, are you still there?"

The boy suddenly spoke.

"I'm here," Cheng Chen replied.

"Heh, my girlfriend and I both love your songs. She adores your 'Fairytale.' Do you think when I die, I'll become an angel and protect her for the rest of her life?"

Hearing this heart-wrenching question, Cheng Chen said:

"Since you're my fan, could you do me one favor?"

"Teacher Cheng, don't try to talk me out of it anymore. Death is really a release, isn't it?"

The boy spoke in a low, despondent tone.

"I won't elaborate on that question. I've just composed a new song. Will you be my first listener? Just one song—after you've heard it, if you still want to end your life, I'll respect your choice."

What?!

He's about to kill himself, and you're still provoking him!

Xiao Yue'er stared at Cheng Chen in shock.

The control room had already erupted!

"What kind of singer is this?! Does he think one song can save a life? Or does he not even care about this living soul?!"

"Never let this guy appear on our station again! Trash singer!"

The station leaders outside clearly heard Cheng Chen's words—and flew into a rage.

With Cheng Chen's words spoken, the blog instantly exploded with activity.

"What's wrong with Cheng Chen? How could he say something like that? Forget him, I'm unsubscribing!"

"How arrogant is he? The priority is to buy time—why say something like this!"

"Calm down, everyone—actually, what the boss said isn't without merit. If this guy is determined to die, even if the police arrive, the outcome won't change. At least now the boss can buy us time for one song!"

Only now did the others realize it.

That's right—Cheng Chen can at least buy us time for one song.

If it were anyone else from the radio station, they probably couldn't even buy that one song's time.

Cheng Chen is using his own way to try to save this boy.

Perhaps the boy was moved by Cheng Chen's sincerity.

Perhaps Cheng Chen, as his favorite singer, reminded him of the time he listened to music with his girlfriend, sharing a pair of headphones—he said slowly:

"Alright, I'll be your first listener."

Hearing this answer, Cheng Chen visibly relaxed. He picked up the guitar beside him.

During previous listener Q&A segments, listeners had requested songs for Cheng Chen to sing, so he had prepared a guitar in advance.

All eyes in the livestream were fixed on Cheng Chen.

Only one song's time left!

Amidst the anticipation of countless listeners, Cheng Chen's fingers rested on the strings, gently plucking them as he sang softly:

"The TV keeps flickering, but I haven't deleted your contact info yet."

"The kindness you showed me, I destroyed by accident."

"We once dreamed of a place to sleep and eat."

"But how do I endure it? Day and night reversed, I can't even scrape together the down payment..."

Cheng Chen's low, slightly hoarse voice spread through thousands of radios via the station's microphone.

Everyone listened in silence to Cheng Chen's voice, like a story being told, each heart stirred by a deep, genuine ache.

It was the helplessness of life, the suffocating oppression of being unable to hold on to the other half—making eyes turn red.