Su Chen tossed the remote onto the coffee table, leaned back against the sofa armrest, and tilted his head to look at his younger sister: “Are you really not going to City S after all?”

Su Wan was sitting on the other end, holding her brother’s iPhone 6. The screen was lit, and her fingers scrolled through a few pages. She didn’t look up; she just mumbled an “Mm,” a quiet but firm sound.

Su Chen clicked his tongue and sat up straighter: “That may be true… but now you’re saying you want to get into short videos. Is that really reliable? It’s just shooting a video and posting it online—anyone can do that, right?”

“Precisely because everyone thinks they can, no one takes it seriously,” Su Wan said, turning the phone so he could see the screen. “Look, if you search ‘makeup tutorials’ on C.me now, most of the results are either staged posts by internet celebrities or students filming themselves with their phones to talk about lipstick shades. There are almost no real guides on how to get ready in five minutes or how to use affordable products to cover dark circles.”

Su Chen leaned in for a closer look, then frowned: “Even these few videos don’t have many likes.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Su Wan said, pulling the phone back and quickly swiping across the screen. “The number of users is growing fast, but the content isn’t keeping up. The platform is eager to push new stuff, so the algorithm will show more people search results for high-volume keywords like these. If I jump in now, it’s like starting on an empty runway—no one’s blocking me up front, and no one’s catching up behind me yet.”

She paused, lowering her voice: “Plus, I know which topics will go viral. For example, ‘8 a.m. commuter faux no-makeup look’ or ‘weekly outfits for under a hundred yuan’—these are real needs. I’m not relying on my looks, and I’m not pushing boundaries; I just deliver solid, actionable advice. Ordinary people trust that kind of content, and they’re willing to share it.”

Su Chen stared at her for several seconds, then burst out laughing: “You haven’t gone crazy from being spooked by that matchmaking guy, have you? Just a moment ago you were talking about making 300,000 in three months, and now you’re saying you want to become a beauty influencer. Do you think this platform is your own business?”

Su Wan didn’t get angry or argue. She stood up, walked to the balcony, and pulled back a corner of the curtain. Below, the streetlights cast a dim yellow glow as a few electric scooters slowly rolled by, and an elderly woman in pajamas walked her dog. She gazed outside and thought to herself: “Back in the summer of 2016, C.me hadn’t yet become a superstar—there were fewer than ten top verified accounts. At the time, no one thought this was a way to make money; everyone just saw it as a hobby for young people. But a year later, the first wave of people reaping the benefits had already emerged. Some got sponsored deals from a single outfit video, while others earned 100,000 a month teaching makeup. I’m not gambling—I know exactly when the wind will blow.”

Su Wan turned around, leaning against the wall with her hands in her pockets: “I don’t need any equipment, I don’t need a team, and I certainly don’t need to invest any money. I’ll just use your iPhone 6, find a clean background, shoot and edit everything myself. I’ll test the traffic with three videos—if they don’t take off, I’ll switch directions right away. But if one of them goes viral—”

“You’ll be the pig standing in the wind-mouth?” Su Chen teased.

“Go away—you’re the pig! I’m just seizing the opportunity,” she said, then walked back to the sofa and sat down, gently placing the phone on the coffee table between them.

Su Wan looked straight at him: “When the wind-mouth comes, some people can’t see it, some are too afraid to act, and only a few dare to reach out. I don’t want to be one of those who miss the chance again.”

The living room fell silent for a few seconds.

The ceiling fan buzzed overhead, causing a corner of the electricity bill on the coffee table to flutter slightly.

Su Chen muttered under his breath: “But you’re both filming videos and starting a business now—way riskier than working a regular job. What if it doesn’t catch on? What if you don’t make any money in three months, and you lose your job in City S too? What then?”

“Then I’ll just keep looking for other ways,” Su Wan replied firmly. “But I can’t tie myself down to something with no clear path ahead. A job paying 5,000 yuan will still pay 5,000 yuan in ten years. Short videos, though, are different—they might turn my life around in three months, or they might bring me nothing at all. But at least—”

End of Chapter 4: The Short-Video Wind-Mouth