The subway tunnel smelled of damp concrete and roasted chestnuts.
Yu adjusted the lens of the borrowed DV camera, crouching low to frame the shot. Jiang Meixuan stood near the center of the tunnel, where natural light spilled down from a grid above, catching the shimmer in her hair.
"Okay," Yu said. "One take. Breathe deep."
She nodded. "Ready."
The song was an old ballad—emotional, quiet, not something you'd expect in a subway. Her voice cut through the hum of passing commuters and distant train tracks. Raw. Clear. Honest.
Yu didn't move. The camera rolled as she poured her heart out, eyes closed, fingers clenched. By the end, a few passersby had stopped to watch, some whispering, others just staring.
She finished with a soft final note, held longer than expected. Then silence.
A middle-aged man clapped. Others followed.
Yu stood up slowly, camera still rolling. "That's it," he said. "That's the one."
Back at the office, Yu imported the footage, edited it on an ancient copy of Adobe Premiere, and added simple black-and-white captions:
"Her name is Jiang Meixuan.""She doesn't have an agent.""She just has a voice."
He compressed the video into multiple formats, burned it onto CDs, and started uploading where he could—early QQ forums, music fan BBS threads, school dorm networks. He even uploaded it to a crude FTP site and named the file "SubwayAngel.avi."
Lin looked over his shoulder. "This your big plan?"
Yu grinned. "It's not a plan. It's bait."
For a day—nothing.
A few pageviews. No comments.
Then, on the second night, an admin from a popular teen forum reposted the video with the caption:
"Subway Singer Gives Me Chills 😭 Must Watch!!"
That was the first spark.
Then came the comments.
"Who is she?""Where was this filmed?""I'm crying. She's incredible.""Someone sign this girl already."
Yu watched the numbers tick up—100 views, 500, 1,200.
By the third night, it had reached the homepage of a youth entertainment site.
By the fourth—it went regional.
Jiang sat beside him, eyes wide as she scrolled through comments. Some were clumsy, others rude, but most were glowing.
"...They like it," she whispered.
Yu smiled. "Of course they do."
She turned to him. "Is this what it feels like? Being seen?"
"No," Yu said. "This is what it feels like right before it explodes."
He refreshed the page.
Views: 11,543
His fingers tightened around the mouse.
This was it.
They weren't invisible anymore.