Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C96

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By the time Gu Lang emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and free of soap suds, he found Wang Ping sprawled across the floor with an air of existential despair. The honey badger was lounging cross-legged, his tail strategically draped over his "little meatball," puffing away at a cigarette.

Wang Ping couldn't wrap his head around it. He had all his limbs intact—why on earth couldn’t he figure out how to control that damn drone?

"Hey, maybe ease up on the cigarettes..." Gu Lang hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I heard they can affect... you know, male stamina..."

But Wang Ping paid no heed, taking another drag as his mind remained fixated on stabilizing the drone's flight safely. He didn’t even register what Gu Lang had said—and honestly, that was probably for the best. Had he caught the implication about "male stamina," Gu Lang would’ve been in for another beating, this one far worse than usual. It wasn’t just any sore spot—it was the sore spot, the kind that hurt more than anything else. More than Jacob’s death. Hell, more than everything combined.

Seeing Wang Ping unresponsive, Gu Lang sighed and began tidying up. He glanced at the open box on the floor, the discarded drone, and the pillow tossed aside. Shaking his head, he muttered something about being born into luxury but cursed with servitude. As he bent down to pick up the pillow, his eyes landed on his brand-new waist pouch lying crumpled in the trash bin.

"What gives? Why’d you throw it out? I use that thing!" Gu Lang reached into the bin, pulling out the broken strap. The pouch itself remained stubbornly inside.

Gu Lang: … Fine, good riddance! Honestly, I’ve been meaning to replace it anyway!

---

Early the next morning, without lingering in Hohhot, Gu Lang and Wang Ping hit the road again. Their destination—the vast grasslands of Hulunbuir—was still over a thousand kilometers away. But thankfully, this stretch wouldn’t take two full days like their previous journey.

Driving through Inner Mongolia’s endless plains felt worlds apart from cruising along highways. From Hohhot eastward, the roads were straight as arrows, uninterrupted by traffic jams, red lights, toll booths, or towering buildings blocking the horizon. Everywhere you looked, the sky stretched low, meeting the boundless expanse of land. Wild horses seemed to gallop freely beneath the heavens, yearning for wings to soar higher.

In the livestream titled "Day Three of Our Hulunbuir Road Trip," viewers were growing increasingly restless after three days of watching nothing but driving footage.

“It’s been three days already—how are we still on the road?”

“At first, I thought the stream was going to be about cool driving stunts. Turns out, it really is just boring old driving.”

“The only reason I’m sticking around is Big Brother Buzz-Cut.”

“Even Boss Buzz-Cut seems bored today—he hasn’t smoked once!”

Indeed, Wang Ping’s frustration hadn’t abated since leaving Hohhot. His thoughts were consumed with plans to modify the drone and fantasies of soaring gracefully through the skies.

“I’ll go watch a movie; this is too dull,” typed one viewer.

“Tag me when you finally reach the grasslands,” added another.

“Hey, don’t leave!” Gu Lang panicked as he noticed the chat dwindling. The live stream's viewer count plummeted from five digits to four almost instantly.

“Look at the scenery, everyone! Endless wilderness! Um… what’s that poem? ‘The sky is vast, the fields boundless… winds sweep the grass, revealing cattle and sheep!’” Gu Lang gestured dramatically, trying to recapture attention.

“Beautiful my ass. All I see are patches of green and yellow dirt—not even a yurt in sight.”

“I’ll support you once you get there, promise.”

“Can we stop forcing small talk? It’s awkward.”

“No worries—as long as Boss’s here, I’ll stick around no matter how boring it gets.”

“Boss +1.”

Gu Lang groaned inwardly. For the past couple of days, everything had been fine. Whenever Wang Ping lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings, the audience went wild, showering him with virtual gifts. During those moments, the stream’s popularity soared back to six figures.

But today, Wang Ping seemed utterly distracted.

“Hey, Boss, why don’t you light up a cig?” Gu Lang suggested while keeping his eyes on the road.

“…”

Wang Ping shot him a sideways glance before returning to his thoughts.

Reflecting on the two “flight incidents,” he realized the root cause boiled down to the controller being too sensitive and difficult to grip, especially during the critical moments of liftoff. Being physically tethered to the drone made it hard to maintain focus.

Maybe he should let Gu Lang handle the controls?

Hmm, no. Handing over control would ruin the thrill of flying himself.

If only the drone had a cockpit where he could sit comfortably with the controller…

Suddenly, inspiration struck.

Wait—why not? Maybe it wasn’t impossible after all…

“Fine, if you don’t want to smoke…” Gu Lang shrugged, picking up his phone from the dashboard and opening a music app. A blast of heavy metal filled the car via Bluetooth speakers. How could he have forgotten? Driving through such vast landscapes required epic tunes. No wonder the viewers found it boring otherwise.

Huh?

Wang Ping’s tail twitched involuntarily.

While deep thinking often drowned out conversations, music had a way of cutting through.

For some inexplicable reason, Wang Ping’s mental image of the drone morphed into a music player.

“This style feels familiar…”

Gu Lang bobbed his head rhythmically, shoulders swaying with the beat. Occasionally, he hummed along to the lyrics, completely lost in the moment. Caught in his own euphoria, he embodied the saying: “Music doesn’t hype people—people hype themselves!”

Wang Ping gave him a disdainful look but soon found himself unconsciously nodding his head to the rhythm.

Viewers who had been glued to the screen watching Wang Ping suddenly perked up.

Finally, after waiting so long, something interesting was happening!

“Quick, start recording!”

“Where’s my screen recorder? Let’s go!”

“So cute!”

Unnoticed by both Gu Lang and Wang Ping, the viewer count—which had been steadily dropping—began to stabilize and slowly climb back up. By the time it returned to five digits, neither of them noticed.

After humming along for a bit, Gu Lang noticed Wang Ping moving in sync with the music. Grinning, he cranked up the volume. The SUV vibrated with the pulse of the bass, filling the cabin with energy.

Before they knew it, man and honey badger were fully immersed, their movements growing more exaggerated with each passing minute.

“Oh yeah!”

Feeling the high, Gu Lang rolled down the windows. Fresh air rushed in as the music spilled out into the open plains.

Wang Ping was feeling it too.

Out here, it was easy to lose yourself. The endless horizon stretched beyond the car, the azure sky untainted by city smog. With barely another soul on the road, there was an intoxicating sense of freedom.

For a fleeting moment, Wang Ping fantasized about standing atop the car, arms outstretched, shouting into the wind. But glancing at the speedometer and the fierce gusts outside, he decided against it. Instead, he stood on the passenger seat, head-bobbing furiously to the beat.

What should have taken ten hours, Gu Lang completed in seven.

But as the car entered Hulunbuir’s urban area, both Gu Lang and Wang Ping felt a wave of exhaustion wash over them.

Letting loose every now and then wasn’t harmful, Wang Ping reasoned. Over time, he’d grown accustomed to the camera’s presence. After all, despite smoking on-stream, no animal expert had jumped out to dissect him yet. Still, dancing and rocking out for nearly seven hours straight left him mentally and physically drained. His brain felt like mush.

Thus, upon arriving in Hulunbuir, their first order of business wasn’t indulging in pre-planned delicacies or gathering camping gear. Instead, they ended the livestream, collapsed into a hotel room, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Screw the grasslands, screw the views, screw the viewers—right now, rest was all that mattered.

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