mc-med Chapter 291 Donations Exceed 100 Million
Chapter 291 Donations Exceed 100 Million
When the last note fell, the entire theater was silent for a full ten seconds.
For ten seconds, no one spoke, no one moved; everyone was immersed in the atmosphere created by the song.
Then, applause erupted like a tidal wave.
It was a heartfelt, respectful, and chilling applause.
Someone stood up and applauded, then a second, a third, a fourth... In the end, not a single person in the entire 1,200 seats remained seated.
Everyone stood up.
Some people clapped while wiping away tears, some clapped desperately with red eyes, and some opened their mouths as if to say something but couldn't say anything, so they could only clap their hands forcefully, one clap after another.
On stage, dozens of singers stood together. Some cried, some laughed, and some held tightly to the hands of the people next to them.
Andy Lau took off his glasses and wiped them. Xu Manlin tilted her head back to stop her tears from falling. Lin Xiaoxi was already crying her eyes out. Su Qian stood next to her and gently patted her back.
Tan Yu stood in the choir, crying like a child, his face covered in snot and tears. Xu Manxue handed him tissues, her own eyes red-rimmed.
Shen Yuege stood on the far left of the choir stage, looking at the sea of people below, all standing up, and tears finally streamed down her face. She didn't wipe them away, just stood there, letting the tears flow down her cheeks.
Lu Ran, sitting in a wheelchair with his back to everyone on the stage and facing the 1,200 standing audience members, suddenly felt as if something was blocking his throat.
He has been through a lot—founding Tutu Technology, creating TUTU, writing those songs, making those games, delivering supplies to disaster areas, and being injured by falling rocks.
But at this moment, all those experiences combined couldn't compare to the impact this moment had on him.
It wasn't because of how loud the applause was, or how grand the event was, but because he knew that this song truly touched people.
Those tears, those applause, those who stood up—it wasn't because of Lu Ran, but because the song resonated with them.
The applause lasted for a full five minutes.
For five minutes, no one sat down, no one left, and no one urged anyone on. Everyone clapped, over and over again, until their palms were red, sore, and numb, but they still wouldn't stop.
Finally, Shen Yuege picked up the microphone, her voice slightly hoarse, and said, "Thank you everyone." She paused, took a deep breath, and tried to calm her voice. "Thank you for your applause. But next, there is something even more important."
She looked at the staff on the side of the stage and nodded.
The giant LED screen above the stage switched from displaying lyrics to a new interface—a simple fundraising page with an orange background. A rabbit stood on the ruins, holding a red heart, with the words: "Sichuan Earthquake Relief Fundraising: Every act of kindness is a hope for life."
At the bottom of the page is a number that updates in real time, currently displaying: ¥0.
"The song we just heard was called 'Tomorrow Will Be Better,'" Shen Yuege's voice resonated throughout the venue through the speakers. "But tomorrow won't magically become better. Tomorrow will be better because someone is willing to make the sacrifices for it."
She paused, her gaze sweeping across the entire audience: "All the proceeds from tonight's finale—tickets, GG, title sponsorship—have been donated to the disaster relief efforts. But that's not enough. What the disaster relief needs isn't the revenue from a single performance, but the collective strength of everyone."
"Therefore, we have opened donation channels simultaneously at the venue and on the TUTU platform. Those at the venue can scan the QR code on the armrest of their seat to donate. Those watching on screen can open the TUTU homepage and click on the donation portal."
"All donations will go directly into a special account for disaster relief and reconstruction. We will publish the whereabouts of every penny on TUTU in real time and accept public supervision."
After she finished speaking, she took a step back and bowed deeply.
As she straightened up, she looked down at the audience and said softly, "Thank you, everyone."
This time, there was no applause from the audience; everyone looked down at their phones and scanned the QR codes on their seat armrests.
The numbers on the LED screen began to jump.
¥100 – The first donation came in, from an audience member.
¥500 — Another sum of money came in.
¥1000 - The third transaction.
¥1500, ¥1510, ¥1960, ¥2600...
The numbers were jumping faster and faster, from hundreds to thousands, climbing every second.
While donations were being made on-site, the fundraising page on the TUTU platform was also experiencing a surge in traffic.
Xiao Yang from the operations department sat in the back-end monitoring room, staring at the rapidly rising curve on the screen, his mouth widening in disbelief.
"Sister Yang," an intern beside me said, her voice trembling, "is there a bug in this data?"
Xiao Yang didn't answer because she didn't believe her own eyes.
That curve wasn't ordinary growth; it was the kind of breathtaking vertical rise you only see at midnight on Singles' Day. Ten million, twenty million, thirty million—each number remained for no more than thirty seconds.
With trembling hands, she refreshed the page to confirm it wasn't a system malfunction. The data was real; every donation had a source, username, time, and amount—clear and transparent.
"No bugs," she murmured, her voice filled with an incredulous shock. "It's real."
On the stage, the numbers on the LED screen were still changing.
123000 JPY(TAX+)
3065700 JPY(TAX+)
14159265 JPY(TAX+)
Every time the numbers jumped, a gasp rippled through the audience. Everyone knew that behind these numbers were not just cold money, but tents, blankets, medicine, warmth for children in winter, and hope for disaster victims to rebuild their homes.
5000000 JPY(TAX+)
When the number surpassed 50 million, Shen Yuege's hands began to tremble.
She stood in the center of the stage, looking at the number, her lips trembling slightly.
She recalled the images Lu Ran had shown her during his time in Sichuan, the elderly living in tents, the children drawing at the resettlement site, and the girl planting flowers on the ruins. Those images flashed through her mind like a movie, each frame so vivid it broke her heart.
At this moment, these numbers on the screen mean that the elderly can move into warm prefabricated houses, that children can sit in bright classrooms, and that the girl who planted flowers on the ruins can see real flowers bloom.
She turned her head and looked at Lu Ran.
Lu Ran, sitting in his wheelchair, was also looking at the number. His expression was calm, but his eyes were red. Shen Yuege knew that he wasn't unmoved; he just habitually suppressed his emotions.
After returning from the disaster area, he rarely mentioned what happened there. But Shen Yuege knew that he would look at the news about the disaster area every night, sometimes until very late. The light from his phone screen reflected on his face, and his expression was one of indescribable heartache.
She knew he was thinking about those places and those people. He didn't say it, but he had never truly let go of them.
60000000 JPY(TAX+)
70000000 JPY(TAX+)
The numbers continued to climb. In the back-end monitoring room, Xiao Yang had already stood up, his hands gripping the table, staring intently at the screen. The curve showed no sign of flattening out; instead, it climbed steeper and steeper.
"Sister Yang," the intern swallowed hard, "it's already seventy million...we initially estimated the total for the whole day at fifty million..."
"Don't talk," Xiao Yang interrupted him. "Let me see."
80000000 JPY(TAX+)
Someone in the audience shouted, "Breaking 100 million! Breaking 100 million! Breaking 100 million!"
Then more and more people joined in, and the sound went from scattered to unified, from unified to deafening—
"Breaking 100 million! Breaking 100 million! Breaking 100 million!"
The entire theater was shouting; twelve hundred people were shouting the same word at the same time, and the sound surged in waves like the ocean, making the sound system on the stage buzz.
90000000 JPY(TAX+)
The numbers were getting closer and closer to that threshold. In the back-end monitoring room, Xiao Yang couldn't bear to look anymore. She turned around, her back to the screen, and covered her mouth with her hands. The intern was still staring intently, his eyes unblinking.
On stage, dozens of singers stood in a row, no one spoke, all staring at the screen. Lin Xiaoxi gripped Su Qian's hand tightly; Su Qian's palms were sweaty. Andy Lau took off his glasses and stood there silently, his expression as solemn as if he were attending a flag-raising ceremony.
Xu Manlin stood at the very edge, her hands clasped together, her lips slightly parted, as if she were saying something. Tan Yu stood next to her, crying the hardest, but his eyes were fixed on the screen, refusing to look away for even a second.
95000000 JPY(TAX+)
98000000 JPY(TAX+)
99000000 JPY(TAX+)
The last million dollars seemed to tick incredibly slowly. Every second felt like it was stretched tenfold, and everyone held their breath. The entire theater was so quiet that only the sound of heartbeats could be heard.
99500000 JPY(TAX+)
99800000 JPY(TAX+)
99900000 JPY(TAX+)
Then--
100000000 JPY(TAX+)
...