My Live Broadcast Room Can Teach You Everything (1): 

A few days later, once the power of the world reached a certain threshold, Si Qi regained his memories.

Thinking back on the things he had done during those days, Si Qi’s ears burned, and he lowered his head, unable to face Chu Feng.

Chu Feng felt rather regretful that Si Qi had remembered everything so soon. He took out the Memory Pearl from Si Qi’s storage tool and said, “I’ll hold onto this for now. After you leave, I’ll need something to remember you by.”

Hearing the exact same words from Chu Feng’s mouth, Si Qi blushed scarlet and lunged forward to snatch the pearl.

Realizing he couldn’t win, Si Qi bit down on Chu Feng’s shoulder in frustration. “You’re just bullying me!” he fumed.

Chu Feng chuckled softly and didn’t explain. Si Qi muttered, “You’ve mastered the power of the world. Even if you’re stuck in this world, you can still go to the Main God Domain to see me whenever you want. You’re doing this on purpose…”

Chu Feng rubbed his head and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “But I want to see you anytime, anywhere… Can’t you let me?”

Si Qi’s face flushed even redder, especially when he remembered what was recorded in the pearl. He wanted nothing more than to hide in shame.

“I…”

“Really can’t?” Chu Feng pressed him step by step.

Si Qi gave up resisting, lowered his head, and buried his face in Chu Feng’s chest. “…If… if you want it, then take it… I never said it had to stay with me…”

His voice grew fainter and fainter. Chu Feng’s shoulders trembled with laughter as he happily said, “In that case, let’s fill up the pearl together.”

Si Qi widened his eyes and glared at him. “You—you beast!”

The pearl could record at least a year’s worth of content. Chu Feng was trying to wear him out!!

Chu Feng looked innocent. “What did I do? I just meant recording our trips together. What did you think?”

“……”

Si Qi shouted, “Ahhh!”

He leapt onto Chu Feng. “You scoundrel!!”

Laughing heartily, Chu Feng scooped Si Qi up in a princess carry and made as if to rush outside.

Si Qi panicked at the thought of colleagues seeing and grabbed Chu Feng’s ear. “Don’t! Don’t go out!”

Chu Feng teased, “Why not? Don’t want people to see the dignified Immortal Lord being carried like a princess?”

As he spoke, he reached for the door.

Seeing this, Si Qi grabbed his shoulders and squirmed in his arms. “Chu Feng, Chu Feng~”

Chu Feng couldn’t help but laugh.

This little one still knew how to act spoiled and stubborn, exactly like when he was a child—he hadn’t grown up at all.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Stop squirming.”

Si Qi pouted. “What, are you saying I’m too heavy?” With that, he rubbed against him even more deliberately, his whole demeanor smug with indulgence.

“No,” Chu Feng replied solemnly. “It’s just that you’ve made me hard. You’ll have to take responsibility.”

Si Qi: “……”

Of course, Si Qi never recounted this part of the conversation to Xiu Xiu.

In the Main God Domain, after listening to Si Qi’s account of that world, Xiu Xiu sounded especially regretful. “Xiu Xiu didn’t accompany Master for an entire world. Xiu Xiu is so jealous.”

“You’re even jealous of Chu Feng?” Si Qi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Alright, take me to the next world. You’ll definitely be with me in this one.”

Xiu Xiu chirped, “Okay~!”

When his vision cleared, Si Qi’s body was suddenly struck by a violent impact.

The force was no ordinary blow. He had no time to slowly absorb the original host’s memories. He quickly scanned his surroundings.

He was in the boundless sea of stars, before a complicated control console. And right in front of him, an enemy was swinging a sword down at him, aiming straight for his neck.

The strike was ruthless, clearly intending to kill him on the spot.

Si Qi felt the emotions lingering in his chest from the original host. They carried the strong desire to defeat this opponent. His fingers flew across the keyboard, leaving behind a trail of afterimages.

The mech under his control dodged the enemy’s pursuit with astonishing agility, moving like a phantom through the starry sky, before striking back with a heavy slash that left a deep wound on the enemy’s back.

The students watching in the observation area gasped in unison. Someone exclaimed in disbelief, “Did you see that bumpkin’s move? In that situation, he actually dodged and even injured Si Yuan in return!!”

The instant his blade struck, Si Qi sensed something off.

He had traveled countless worlds, crossed myriad universes, and knew the real starry sky inside and out.

This wasn’t reality—it was a highly realistic holographic simulation. His body wasn’t his own body, and he wasn’t truly on the edge of life and death.

Because of that, an attack that could have been fatal was deliberately held back by him, leaving only a severe injury.

He had Xiu Xiu quickly explain the situation. He learned that he and his opponent were fighting inside a virtual training pod, and their match was being broadcast live to all the students outside. Si Qi deliberately slowed his pace, dragging the battle out for about a minute.

In that minute, he rapidly absorbed the original host’s memories.

The original host had been born an orphan on a remote planet, without parents. Because the planet was poor, barren, and mostly used as a dumping ground for trash, the Star Alliance government exercised far less control there than in the central zones. Many fugitives liked to hide there, many children were born without identification, and local gangs were rampant. Ordinary life was harsh and bitter.

Most people there either lived their whole lives doing menial, despised work for pitiful wages, or they became thugs for criminal factions, never knowing when they’d die on the streets.

For someone like the original host to leave that planet, attend the Capital Comprehensive Academy, and rise among the elite of billions was nothing short of a fantasy. Both the tuition for nurturing such talent and the spaceship ticket to the capital were astronomically expensive.

Like many children in the slums, the original host never knew who his parents were. From his vague childhood memories, it seemed he had been picked up and raised by a mentally unstable woman. One day she went out and never came back, leaving him to survive on a few bottles of expired nutrient solution in her house. He learned, on his own, how to scavenge in garbage dumps to survive.

In the garbage, there were expired foods, scrapped appliances, and occasionally valuable items discarded by the wealthy from other planets, such as a children’s learning machine.

On that planet, education was neglected. Even parents who valued it wouldn’t willingly live in a slum next to a garbage dump. People there were too busy worrying whether they would survive tomorrow to care about learning things that couldn’t fill their stomachs.

Since he only had to feed himself and his appetite was small, sometimes a single low-grade expired nutrient bottle could keep him from needing other food for three days. Most of the time he just squatted in his “home” conserving strength.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t try to stockpile food while full, but he was weak. Any slightly bigger child could rob him, and he had no way to protect his supplies. Even if stored at home, food would only draw scavengers to raid him regularly.

If the slums had hierarchies, he was at the very bottom. Nobody liked the dirty, silent, frail child. Nobody wanted to talk to him. His days were dull and empty, until he discovered the learning machine.

The little animals and characters on the screen were fascinating. He liked them at once. Whenever he had time, he hid at home watching the videos, slowly learning language and writing.

Once, when a spaceship dumped fresh trash, others fought over expired milk. He recognized the word “milk” on the package and saw it had been expired for over three months. Remembering what the learning machine said—that expired milk caused diarrhea and illness—he, more than anyone, knew how painful illness was. So instead of drinking it, he traded the milk for a pen with another child. That day, the entire slum was filled with groans of pain and the stench of filth.

Living by the sewage dump, he learned deeply how important the knowledge from the learning machine was—and how terrifying the consequences of ignoring it could be.

Determined to survive better, he studied the learning machine diligently, treating every word as treasure. His common sense and worldview were entirely shaped by it.

If the machine said children should study, he studied. If it said good kids should stay clean, he kept himself from being filthy.

Gradually, people in the slums noticed there was a thin little boy who always hid in the garbage heap, often trading food for utterly useless scraps like books, magazines, or clean water.

The first time he left an impression beyond “fool” was when someone saw him tinkering with appliances in the dump—he actually repaired a broken device.

Of course, the witness snatched it away, and when the boy resisted, he was beaten badly.

Later, that device was sold to Old Ge’er the mechanic for some money. Word spread, and people began to watch the boy. When he stared at something too long, they would grab it and beat him.

He stumbled through like this until twelve, by then having gained some rough fighting skills. They weren’t impressive, but enough to protect his own things from adults.

He was no longer just another invisible scavenger. People started noticing his difference.

He looked cleaner, carried himself differently, and spoke in a way unlike the other slum children.

People were shocked to realize he even knew knowledge adults didn’t, and that he had somehow landed an apprenticeship with Old Ge’er!

That was a job on the streets, a place where respectable people came and went.

When news spread, someone tried to target his wages.

But Old Ge’er disliked his stench of garbage and made him live at his house, deducting his lodging from his pay.

Everyone knew it was just an excuse to underpay him, but it unintentionally protected him. No one in the slums dared cause trouble near the streets, so they gave up their schemes.

Days passed, and the slums no longer saw that clean young boy in the garbage heaps.

One day, someone casually asked about him, only to hear he had been sent to school by Old Ge’er and even gained legal citizenship in the Star Alliance.

And then, people said that the boy had become a so-called genius among respectable folk, awakening a one-in-ten-thousand mental power and passing the exam into Capital Star’s Comprehensive Academy. Old Ge’er sold everything he owned to buy a single ticket, sending the boy off to study.

Everyone refused to believe it was true. How could someone born in a place like theirs be so lucky?

But not long after the boy left, Old Ge’er, plagued with illness, lost the will to live and died in bed. Local thugs broke into his shop to divide up his belongings, only to find that the stingy old man had left nothing of value. The boy who should have inherited everything never showed up either.

When the news spread, people reluctantly began to accept the rumor as fact, and they gossiped about it for a long time.

Yet no matter how much they talked, the subject of their chatter had no idea what was being said, nor did he know that his benefactor had passed away shortly after he left.

The acquaintances on that remote planet wouldn’t tell him while he was busy studying on Capital Star and “living the good life.”

To be blunt, even if they told him, it wouldn’t have mattered—he couldn’t possibly afford a ticket home, and they didn’t want him to throw away his hard-won chance to study because of this.

They knew better than anyone how impossibly hard it was for someone from their backwater to enter a Capital Star academy, and how much effort it had cost. That was something their planet might not see even once in decades, or even centuries.

He was their hope.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as they imagined. Instead of living a good life on Capital Star, he suffered treatment even worse than the deprivation he had endured in childhood when others robbed him of food.

Whether by luck or misfortune, when he arrived on Capital Star and took the entrance exam, he happened to meet General Si, who was there dropping off his own child.

The general casually spoke a few words to him, asking some questions about registration.

Somehow this detail spread among the onlookers. People noticed the boy’s surname, and how much he resembled the general in his eyes and features, and they couldn’t help but think too much.

With a little push from those with agendas, before the boy even realized what was happening, rumors spread through the class that he was the general’s illegitimate son, a child of disgrace.

Because of this, the general’s only son confronted him, claiming it was a sparring match, and in front of everyone beat him savagely in the training pod. That incident was treated as proof of his “dirty” birth—otherwise why would the general’s young master single him out like that?

Bullying among students often started with seemingly trivial things: a fair face and shy manner, a message left unanswered too long, or speaking a few words too many with someone popular.

With the young master’s status, he didn’t need to lift a finger. Just his ambiguous attitude and cold expression when hearing Si Qi’s name were enough to make countless sycophants target Si Qi, making his life unbearable.

The original host had grown up in hardship. He valued the chance to study more than anyone. Even if shunned, ridiculed by all, he never thought of quitting. He clenched his teeth and endured.

When he learned why people misunderstood him, he found it laughable.

Him, a bastard son? What bastard child ever lived such a bitter life?

Even his name he had given himself, taken from the learning machine he once found.

That machine’s product number was 47, and it announced it at every startup. The first things it taught were numbers, which he quickly mastered. Because he loved the machine, he named himself after it. It was only when Old Ge’er helped him register an identity that the name was changed; Old Ge’er had scoffed that “47” was no name for a person.

What did any of that have to do with the mighty general’s household on Capital Star?

He explained, but nobody believed him. Eventually he stopped trying. To him, so-called campus bullying was not as hard as fighting grown men in the slums for scraps. He didn’t care much.

But his indifference only reinforced people’s view of him as shameless, and they looked down on him even more.

So those eager to please the young master stopped with taunts and instead began ganging up on him in class and training, beating him until he was covered in bruises every day.

In the Military Administration Department of the Comprehensive Academy, injuries weren’t unusual. Their studies were combat itself, and some trainings even allowed for “death quotas.”

The original host fell into one of those “death quotas” when ambushed.

The reason for the quotation marks was that he hadn’t actually died then. After being gravely injured and knocked out, he was secretly carried away to a lab. There, while still conscious, someone cut open his skull and removed an organ in his brain—the very part that controlled mental power after awakening.

Once that was taken, even if his skull was sealed back, he would be left a fool, stripped forever of his ability.

Tied to the operating table, unable to move, he tried to lash out with his mental power against the doctors and instruments, but was blocked. In his mental vision he unexpectedly saw, lying beside him with his skull also opened, General Si himself.

In that instant, the boy understood.

But understanding did him no good.

…

Si Qi finished receiving the memories and exhaled slowly, his eyes carrying a sharper edge of hostility.

With a single strike, he pierced the enemy’s mech cockpit—his opponent was none other than the general’s son. With a cold expression, he exited the training pod under the students’ stunned gazes.

People had still been discussing his earlier maneuvers. Seeing him in person, their eyes were filled with surprise, disgust, and disbelief.

A moment later, the pod across from him opened, and the young master of the Si family stepped out, face dark, glaring at Si Qi with open loathing.

Before his lackeys could step forward to jeer at Si Qi and smooth things over for their boss, Si Qi spoke first: “You’re this desperate to smear me?”

It was the first time anyone had seen the two main figures in the rumor face each other about it, and the crowd burst into uproar.

Everyone stared eagerly, eyes saying, “Fight, fight.”

The young master said coldly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Throughout the bullying, he had always played the part of aloof flower on the mountaintop. He never personally led anyone against Si Qi. Those troubles were all things his underlings did “on their own.”

Even this duel had been “coincidence”—they just happened to arrive at the training ground together, and just happened to choose each other as opponents.

Si Qi sneered. “I’ve been here less than a week, yet the whole world knows I’m from a remote planet. If no one deliberately spread it, who would even know me?”

The students thought, obviously because of the rumor about you.

If you don’t want others to know, don’t do it yourself.

To them, his words only sounded guilty and evasive.

But Si Qi went on: “When I spoke with General Si, the only people there were him, me, and you. If you weren’t the one who spread it, then who was?”

The crowd fell silent. “……”

So the person who saw the general speaking with the supposed illegitimate son had been the young master himself?

Then it really had been him who started the rumor?

People remembered his usual aloof indifference toward Si Qi and thought he had been calm, when in fact he had clearly had a strong opinion about him all along.

Si Yuan’s face changed. He opened his mouth to retort, but Si Qi cut him off: “And just because my surname is Si, and I spoke with the general once, and we both have two eyes and one mouth, that makes me his bastard son?”

Everyone: “……”

Thinking back, the supposed evidence of their connection really was only that flimsy at the start.

The quick-witted began to look at Si Yuan with meaningful eyes.

His lackeys noticed those looks and immediately lashed out, furious. “What nonsense are you spouting, country bumpkin? Are you saying Young Master Si targeted you on purpose? Look at yourself—what right would you have to deserve his attention? He doesn’t even know who you are! That rumor must’ve come from someone else who noticed your lowly background. Don’t twist things to say Young Master spread it!”

Si Qi let out a cold laugh. “You already called me a country bumpkin. Can’t you see I don’t even have a hundred credits to my name? Can’t you see I’m from a backwater planet with nothing, scraping by day to day? Since when does a bastard son live like this?”

The onlookers: “……”

Right. They had been gossiping about Si Qi so much lately that they knew he was poor. He didn’t even recognize many common high-tech products—he was the very picture of an ignorant bumpkin.

At first, they had used that to belittle him as an illegitimate child, to elevate Si Yuan by contrast.

But if Si Qi really were the general’s son, how could his living conditions be so bad?

They had seen with their own eyes how he drank nothing but the cafeteria’s free nutrient solution every single meal, and did so with complete satisfaction.

This, this…