Chapter 1543: Chapter 1543: Fermentation
Lin Heihu absolutely cannot agree to Beauty Lin’s request to cultivate, even if they are from the same family.
Even if he doesn’t mention "the technique is not easily passed on" and doesn’t consider her having other motives, he doesn’t have a suitable cultivation technique. Feng Jun has many techniques, but the Earth Deity only has one set, which is the Incense Fire Ascension technique and cannot be widely used.
However, ever since the Dou Niu livestream started, Lin Heihu’s collection of incense has increased again. Although he isn’t on the Dou Niu livestream, the streamers who mentioned him aren’t punished.
The Earth Deity did not take many fans from Dou Niu, as the platform’s qualifications are very old, and many fans are unwilling to move. However, for fans with urgent needs, such as those with cancer patients at home, they will follow wherever he goes.
As his reputation gradually built up, more and more fans began to inquire about the location of this Cancer Care Center. Brother Hu wouldn’t say, but people kept asking.
Previously, if the Earth Deity encountered such situations where warnings were ineffective, he would directly eject people from the livestream room. But now, he can’t do that, as the fan base is growing and becoming stable. His speed of collecting incense is faster, and he can’t be willful anymore.
So his choice is... to warn them, and if repeated warnings are ineffective, he can only ignore them.
Actually, there are still some people who know where the center is, but these insiders are also aware of Luohua’s dominance. Even if they have a strong desire to show off, they don’t dare to say it directly.
After more than twenty days, rumors about the "Cancer Care Center" suddenly fermented on Weibo.
The first to report the incident was a popular influencer with over three million followers. This person said they received some private messages from fans, hoping he could help them find out more about this, and he personally found the idea of curing cancer through care to be utterly ridiculous.
So he created a small account and lurked in the livestream room daily to observe. After two days of observation, he contacted some relevant friends to help identify whether the images might be fake.
After seeing it, his friends said there was no problem. The key was that those interactions connected so well that it was impossible they were rehearsed.
This big V is intelligent enough to tell whether the delight is genuine or fake.
Therefore, the long Weibo he posted was not revealing in nature but disguised as skepticism, "Shocking, is there really such a magical place where cancer can be treated through care?"
His fans are all genuine. After reading the article, they reposted it widely, but the sensation caused... was actually not that big.
There was no dark side revealed, nor any solid evidence, only a few screenshots from the livestream, which was about as good as saying nothing.
The big V’s approach is quite sophisticated. A day later, he posted another Weibo, "The reposts didn’t even reach a thousand in a day. They all say without a picture, there’s no truth. Here’s the video."
The video was recorded by him in the livestream room. He roughly edited it, selected three typical characters, masked their faces, but captured the atmosphere and emotions.
With this, there were hardly any people who doubted he was paid to repost. What people wanted to know more was the actual location of this care center.
It’s clear that the big V had a third move. On the third day, he released another video. This time, the video was longer, a full half hour without any editing.
This time, even the most rigid individuals realized: such a place really exists. The big V’s repost count soared to 8,000. What many people most wanted to know was whether the livestream had any signs of being tampered with.
Simultaneously, some enthusiasts pointed out that the broadcasting equipment was too advanced, not something an average small streamer could afford.
By the fourth day, the big V intended to reveal his cards completely, offering rewards or pleading for information. Where is this care center, and how can it be accessed? However, once he logged into Weibo, he discovered that the first three Weibo posts had been blocked.
He also received a warning from the platform—According to relevant authorities, the content you published might mislead the public. Given this is a first offense, we blocked it, but if similar incidents occur again, your account will be permanently banned.
The big V had gone through many battles, and seeing such a stern tone from the platform, he realized he was involved in a big event. So he communicated with the platform management and finally confirmed that this topic was prohibited from being mentioned.
The big V sighed helplessly: Now I understand why so few people are informed.
He stopped dwelling on this matter, but the topic’s heat had already been stirred up by him and quickly spread across the internet.
Lin Heihu became even more popular, with the livestream room’s viewership surpassing 100,000.
Following this, more people uploaded the video online, claiming they saw it with their own eyes. Many didn’t even bother with mosaics, disregarding the violation of portrait rights.
Among them, some genuinely had a weak understanding of legal rights and didn’t take portrait rights and privacy rights seriously. But some people believed that once you accepted being livestreamed, it meant you had waived those rights, so reposting shouldn’t be a big deal.
Moreover, since the publishers weren’t influential or marketing accounts, and not profit-driven, their responsibilities would be much lighter.
In this situation, regulatory authorities found it challenging to proceed. With the authorization of the Imperial Secret Police, ordering posts to be deleted was easy, as was banning accounts. The problem was... deleting posts and banning accounts tirelessly on one side while the daily livestream continued on the other. Isn’t that ridiculous?
Finally, someone began to reveal that this care center was located in the Zhengyang Suburb, just thirty to forty miles from the city center—too many people knew about it, and under such circumstances, it was hard to keep it secret. The fact that it wasn’t exposed sooner showed excellent control.
However, once such clear information was released, there was no mercy—immediate deletion of posts and banning of accounts without hesitation.
For those keen to investigate, many had already taken note.
Then these people showed up in the livestream room, constantly asking, "Where exactly in Zhengyang is this place? Please pass it on."
Guo Junsheng, the second-generation security guard, didn’t play Weibo, but he was the kingpin of Zhengyang. After following Lin Heihu’s livestream room, he quickly heard that this care center was next to Luohua Manor in Baixing Town.
Since no one asked him, he was too lazy to say anything until an elementary school friend inquired: Do you know about the Cancer Care Center? My mother-in-law also has cancer.
This friend isn’t in Huaxia. He was a top student who immigrated to Australia more than ten years ago and later settled there, bringing his parents over.
He’s one of the few friends who made Guo Junsheng feel both proud and frustrated. Since this particular friend was asking, he took the trouble to reply in detail, explaining his understanding of Luohua.
The Australian friend, after getting the information, asked other friends in Zhengyang to check it out. Upon confirming it, he wanted his mother-in-law to go for treatment, but she was a white person who flatly refused to believe in Huaxia’s "witchcraft."
Left with no choice, he posted on Twitter—Shocking, there’s a magical art of treating cancer in Huaxia!
He rarely used Twitter, had few interactions, and got only about a dozen reposts.
But as fate would have it, a disagreement broke out between a rerposter and a commenter. One of them also reposted and @mentioned a famous anti-Huaxia personality, asking for his opinion.
Being an anti-Huaxia figure, naturally, he ridiculed it wildly, only to be seen by Richard.
Richard, who was famously disdainful of Mai Nation’s pretentiousness, unhesitatingly reposted and commented, "Idiot, a brain is a good thing, shame you don’t have it... My cancer was cured just like that, with a cure rate of 999 per thousand."
Richard has several billion assets, not exactly a tycoon in Mai Nation, but still quite wealthy, and for Mai Nation people, wealthier voices bear more authority.
So people commented on his Twitter wanting to know how much it cost to cure cancer.
Richard’s reply was rebellious and flamboyant, "I reckon you’ll regret asking because you can’t afford it. Only poor people are concerned about money... I paid a hundred million US dollars; now do you regret it?"
A hundred million US dollars for cancer treatment, this news was explosive and immediately spread throughout Twitter.
Richard is somewhat of a celebrity, and it’s easy to trace his background, revealing not only his ability to pay but also seemingly unpleasant hereditary issues in his family. His brother, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather’s causes of death were also unearthed.
Suddenly, the treatment technology used at Luohua Manor became the center of public opinion. What kind of treatment method dares to claim a guaranteed cancer cure?
Indeed, a 99% cure rate can be claimed as a guaranteed cure, not to mention the extra nine.
Richard didn’t conceal his treatment experience either. After going there, he’d eat and sleep, and in less than a month, cancer cells disappeared—"That’s right, just over three weeks, less than four. I heard some people experienced two treatments, but I didn’t."
Then, the manor received even more heated discussion. Some thought the technology there should be inspected—"Maybe Huaxia stole it from our Mai Nation."
By this point, no one mentioned the hundred million US dollar treatment cost anymore—after all, they couldn’t afford it, but if the treatment method could be made widely available, the cost would surely drop significantly.
After a couple of days of debate, someone suddenly jumped out, swearing that the technology was developed by Bai Rui Pharmaceuticals, and her deceased husband Heinz was the key member of the technical team—the vile thieves had assassinated him.
However, Bai Rui Pharmaceuticals quickly issued an official statement: Bai Rui Pharmaceuticals was not clear on Luohua’s cancer treatment mechanism, but based on some known cases, they inferred that the other party’s treatment mechanism was different from Bai Rui’s choice.
They even pointed out: Ms. Elsa was only Heinz’s fiancée and received partial compensation, and they promised not to pursue the matter further.
This would have been mentioned with the term "blood-stained steamed bun" if Mai Nation had such an expression.
And these arguments, through different channels, were fed back to Huaxia.