190: Chapter 190 is a cold, impersonal machine, but also the warmest miracle.

A few hours later.

Clips from Wang Jun's livestream had grown wings, flying wildly across various platforms.

What went viral first wasn't some parameter analysis, nor was it a teardown review. It was two specific clips.

One was him testing the Mirage in broad daylight, with all the lights on and curtains pulled back, right in front of everyone.

The other was even simpler and more brutal: "First day the Mirage arrives, user livestreams selling their fifty-inch TV for eight hundred yuan."

The title was incredibly tacky, but the effect was ridiculously good. Because it felt more like a regular person than any professional review. A regular person's house. A regular person's living room. A regular person's budget. A regular person's reaction. And the more ordinary it was, the more credible it felt.

At first, those smear articles and "rational and objective" analysis posts that had been spread in advance were still holding on.

"Their lighting isn't actually that bad."

"The livestream is compressed; the actual effect definitely isn't this good."

"Selling the TV is just a publicity stunt; they'll have to buy it back in a couple of days."

But these voices didn't last long before they were buried by the voices of more and more real users who had received their orders.

Someone turned on the Snowy Mountain Cabin mode in their bedroom. A plain white wall instantly became a snow-covered wooden window, as if the bedside was right next to a vast, quiet forest.

Someone made a dinosaur room for their child. Before going to sleep at night, the little one insisted on sitting by the bed with a blanket, watching a triceratops slowly walk past the wall, their little face flushed with excitement.

There were also couples using it for birthday surprises. Originally, it was just a meal and blowing out candles. But once the Mirage was turned on, the entire rental apartment was transformed into a starry-sky restaurant. The girl stood in the flowing starlight filling the room, covering her mouth, her eyes instantly turning red.

There were even a few small companies that immediately moved the Mirage into their conference rooms. A dull, lifeless presentation was directly turned into a semi-immersive spatial demonstration.

Guanghui Technology's official side said nothing. No long responses. No direct arguing. And certainly no descending into the fray to bicker with those smear articles.

Just as Lu Li said at the end of the press conference: "Leave the rest for everyone to judge for themselves."

And real users were the harshest judges.

...

3:00 PM.

Guanghui Technology Headquarters.

Su Qingxue sat in her office, holding a tablet, unable to hide the smile at the corners of her eyes.

The Marketing Department had just submitted the latest summary of public opinion.

The first sale of the Mirage had exploded. Not just the expected explosion, but an explosion that completely exceeded all estimates.

Especially Wang Jun's "livestream selling the TV" video, which had been edited into over a dozen versions; in just half a day, the view count had skyrocketed to an absurd level.

After watching one of the clips, she finally couldn't help herself and sent it to Lu Li, adding a single sentence: "You've wiped out another industry."

Not long after the message was sent, he replied. Lu Li's response was as brief as ever: "Mm."

Two seconds later, another message popped up: "TV manufacturers probably aren't very happy today."

Su Qingxue stared at the text, the corners of her lips curling up. This man always had the ability to make earth-shattering events sound like he had just casually lifted a pot lid.

Just as she was preparing to continue reviewing the reports, Secretary Wang Qiuge suddenly knocked and entered. His expression was a bit subtle.

"President Su."

"Please take a look at this first."

As he spoke, he handed over his phone.

On the screen was a video that was rapidly going viral. The title was just a simple line: "Dad bought a Mirage and brought it back to see me."

Su Qingxue had originally maintained the calmness of her work state, but after clicking it open, her fingers slowly froze.

...

The video started without music. The visuals were very ordinary. It was just a small, cozy, and cute children's room. Stickers were on the walls, a few small potted plants were by the window, and half a bag of unfinished dog food sat in the corner of the desk.

The camera shook, and subtitles slowly floated out: "It accompanied my daughter for six years." "A few days ago, it passed away."

The next second, a little girl appeared in the frame. She was about ten years old, her hair tied up loosely, sitting on the edge of the bed hugging her knees, her eyes red, obviously having cried many times.

Beside her sat a small photo frame. Inside was a fluffy little white dog. Its tongue was sticking out a little, its eyes were round, and it was smiling very silly, yet very obediently.

No one appeared on camera in the video. Only the voice of a middle-aged man sounded softly from off-camera.

"Nannan."

"Dad has prepared a gift for you."

The little girl didn't look up, just gave a dull "Mm." That listless reaction wasn't being willful. It was the kind of reaction where, after being sad for too long, even one's emotions become dulled.

The man didn't say anything more. The camera pulled back. In the center of the room, the Mirage was already connected. The next second, the device activated.

No exaggerated sound effects, no flashy opening. Just a soft light that slowly lit up the air.

The light condensed upward from the floor, inch by inch. First, a blurry outline. Then, the ears, head, body, and tail gradually became clear. It was as if someone had carefully scooped a piece of time that had long since passed back out from memory.

The little girl had originally been looking down. But just as that outline gradually became clear, her whole body suddenly froze. Even her breathing seemed to stop for a moment. She slowly raised her head, looking toward the center of the room.

That little white dog was already standing there. Not big. Round and chubby. Its tail was wagging happily. It first spun around in place, then raised its head and, just like before, tilted its head.

When that head-tilt motion appeared, the video's bullet comments exploded almost instantly.

"Holy crap..."

"This is way too lifelike..."

"I've got goosebumps..."

But what truly made people quiet down was the little girl's reaction. She didn't cry immediately. She didn't rush over immediately, either. She just stared blankly, her eyes widening bit by bit, her lips trembling slightly, as if she couldn't believe it at all.

After a full two or three seconds, she finally called out in a very soft, soft, trembling voice, "Naitang?"

The little dog immediately raised its head, its tail wagging even faster, as if it had heard her call it.

The little girl's eyes instantly turned red. She didn't even dare to stand up immediately; she just braced herself against the side of the bed, as if afraid that if she moved too much, all of this would suddenly vanish.