My Live Broadcast Room Can Teach You Everything (3): 

Once he had finished the matters at hand, Li Zhaoran planned to personally meet with General Si. But before that, he had to first protect his poor nephew, making sure he would not be bullied again by those who loved to trample the weak and flatter the strong.

Thinking of this, Li Zhaoran made a phone call to set up a meeting with his cousin, and especially reminded her to bring along her stepson who had been admitted to the Comprehensive University a few years back.

His cousin laughed and said, if you want to talk to Chu Feng, just find him directly at school, why go through all this trouble?

She added, do you think it’s not quite appropriate for you to show up at school to look after your nephew, and that it’s better to let Chu Feng step in? You really still dote on Xiaoyuan as always.

Li Zhaoran’s tone was complicated: “…You’ll understand when you come.”

The two siblings met in a very private café. After listening to Li Zhaoran’s account, his cousin said in disbelief, how could this be? Chu Feng pulled out his terminal to ask some classmates at school. Very soon, the classmates sent him the gossip posts from within the academy, quickly recounting what had happened, and bluntly commenting that Si Yuan’s actions were utterly disgraceful.

Chu Feng watched the video of the boy, who said with an expressionless face, “I have no parents, I don’t have time to mess around with you rich brats.” His palm unconsciously clenched.

Li Zhaoran, who had long since seen the video, felt pain flash in his eyes upon hearing the boy’s words. Lowering his head, he said to his cousin, “He’s my sister’s only child. She loved him so dearly all these years, but him? How has he treated Xiaoqi?”

His cousin hesitated: “Could it be that Xiaoyuan already knows Xiaoqi’s true identity?”

Li Zhaoran looked dejected: “I don’t know. I’m investigating.”

His cousin pressed her lips together.

She understood why Li Zhaoran reacted this way. Flesh from the palm or the back of the hand, it all hurts when cut; besides, Li Zhaoran had sincerely loved Si Yuan for so many years. To say he wasn’t hurt now would be impossible.

“When do you plan to tell Xiaoyuan the truth?” his cousin asked. “He should know.”

Hearing this, Li Zhaoran’s expression twisted unconsciously, his voice gritted through his teeth: “If he truly doesn’t know, I won’t interfere in the conflict between him and Xiaoqi, I’ll let them resolve it themselves. But if he knew, and still deliberately targeted Xiaoqi…”

His cousin sighed.

It seemed that Si Yuan’s treatment of Si Qi had truly touched Li Zhaoran’s bottom line. Though Li Zhaoran claimed he would help neither side, one side was Si Yuan, stripped of his heir status, while the other was Si Qi, supported by two families. If the two clashed, it was obvious who would be at a disadvantage.

Not to mention, Si Yuan’s actions suggested he likely already knew Si Qi’s real background. Yet instead of informing either side’s parents, he bullied Si Qi at school, deliberately humiliating him with a mech in public to show everyone how useless he was…

What was his purpose? Everyone present was sharp, and it was impossible not to speculate.

They felt Si Yuan wanted to ensure that even if Si Qi’s true identity was revealed in the future, everyone would still see him as useless, a country bumpkin, a pitiful boy bullied by many… The one who could truly uphold the Si family’s honor would still be Si Yuan.

From beginning to end, Si Yuan’s actions were filled with malice.

Not only had he stolen another’s place, but he showed no gratitude, trampling the Li family’s sincere affection underfoot.

At this thought, his cousin’s fondness for Si Yuan disappeared, turning into distaste.

She had paid attention to Si Yuan only because her younger brother always spoke fondly of him, which led her to treat the boy kindly.

But now her brother nearly hated him—why should she still extend kindness? Naturally, she should stand on her brother’s side.

So she turned to her stepson: “Xiaofeng, Xiaoqi has had a hard time. You must look after him at school, do you understand?”

Chu Feng nodded earnestly: “Rest assured.”

Both adults knew Chu Feng’s character well, and were relieved upon hearing this, not even needing to add another word of instruction.

They discussed matters further, unable to help talking about how best to protect and support Si Qi. From his studies, to his future career—whether to follow General Si into the military or follow the Li family into business—the conversation grew lively.

As the topic shifted all the way to Si Qi’s future marriage, Chu Feng interrupted: “These things, we should first ask Xiaoqi’s opinion.”

Both adults fell silent.

Perhaps influenced by preconceived notions, they instinctively thought that Si Qi, coming from a small place, lacked experience and knowledge, so they unconsciously tried to arrange what they thought was the best path for him, forgetting to respect his own wishes.

The more Li Zhaoran thought about it, the worse he felt. With a sigh, he said painfully, “I don’t even know what Xiaoqi likes…”

His cousin comforted him: “It’s alright, you’ll find out. Didn’t you say Xiaoqi is very filial and cared for his grandfather well? He will certainly come to love you too.”

Li Zhaoran grew even more despondent: “It’s our fault, all of us adults were useless, realizing the problem only now. If it weren’t for that child’s own success in entering the Capital University, I would never have known he was suffering…”

Chu Feng said firmly: “I won’t let him be wronged again.”

The two adults were comforted by this: “You must take care of your younger brother. Whatever he wants, do your best to give it to him, alright? We owe him that.”

Chu Feng nodded seriously.

He didn’t need their reminders. From the first moment he saw Si Qi, an overwhelming protectiveness rose in his heart. He wanted to take care of this child.

Perhaps this was the power of kinship.

If the Li family hadn’t acted so quickly—discovering Si Qi’s identity and immediately sending people to bring Old Ge back to Capital Star—Si Qi had originally intended to handle the matter himself.

But now that the Li family was involved, if he acted it would be easy for them to notice.

Yet if he did nothing and simply waited for Old Ge to show up, that didn’t seem reasonable either.

After a moment’s thought, Si Qi registered an account on the star network and then…

Started a livestream.

Xiuxiu: [embarrassed emoji]

Si Qi chuckled: [you could say this is returning to my old profession]

Xiuxiu remembered that several worlds ago, Si Qi had been a game streamer in a holographic game, and asked curiously: [So are you going to play games?]

Si Qi: [No, just the opposite]

Xiuxiu, confused: [The opposite of games?]

What was the opposite of games?

Xiuxiu’s eyes lit up, blurting out: [I know! Studying!!]

[Correct]

Si Qi smiled: [Help me post a comment on the campus forum saying I’ve started streaming]

Xiuxiu immediately did so.

Soon, in the post that had been pinned to the top of the forum with countless followers, a new comment appeared.

“Have you guys noticed? That Si Qi has started a livestream! [stream link]”

“What? Si Qi? Streaming? Was he a streamer before? This is the first I’ve heard.”

“What’s he streaming? The customs of the Garbage Star? (lol)”

“Why so snide?”

“He’s livestreaming teaching!!”

“Huh? Teaching?? What could he possibly teach??”

“How to operate mechs!”

“What?!”

“No way! That’s a thing?”

“@Li Zhangmeng, didn’t you always say it was unbelievable that Si Qi, after only a few days with a mech, managed to defeat Si Yuan? Go check it out!”

“Seriously? Our mech class teacher even praised him in class, saying he had exceptional intuition. I need to share this stream in the class group…”

Word spread quickly. Many students who had heard rumors about Si Qi, and who knew of his talent in mech control, followed the link into his livestream.

There were military management students, but also students from other departments who weren’t interested in mechs but were curious about Si Qi himself.

Once inside, they saw a starry sky. Si Qi had chosen a holographic streaming room with a starry background; every viewer was represented as a twinkling star.

Small stars popped up with bubble-like comments. Glancing at the messages, Si Qi said: “Looks like most of the viewers are our schoolmates.”

“In that case, I’ll skip the basics for now and share my insights on mech control.”

Upperclassmen watched casually, not paying much attention.

But Si Qi’s classmates faintly realized his purpose—it was probably to make money. Feeling guilty for the past, they sent him several small stars (the platform’s tipping method) to show support.

Someone asked about the ghostlike dodging maneuver he had used against Si Yuan—how had he done it?

Si Qi tapped the air a few times, an operating console appearing in front of him. “That was the ‘Mister Flip.’ I just watched a video once and imitated it a few times.”

An upperclassman explained in the chat: “The Mister Flip requires pressing more than a dozen buttons precisely at the same time, with exact timing and intervals. It’s pretty difficult.”

Piloting a mech was far harder than flying a fighter jet. Jets mainly dealt with directional control, but mechs added limbs and joints to coordinate. Combat required tremendous training and learning.

Many students spent a long time just learning to make their mech walk properly—balancing on one foot, adjusting the tilt of foot, calf, thigh, pressing countless buttons in sync.

After walking came running, then fighting while running, then dodging enemy attacks…

The operations required were so complex they made people’s scalps tingle.

This was why entering the military management department required awakening mental power, and of a high level at that. Even the brightest geniuses, without mental power, could hardly sustain such exhausting operations.

Seeing the explanation in chat, Si Qi nodded: “According to the textbook, yes, it requires pressing a total of sixteen buttons in sequence to complete the maneuver.”

Someone caught his implication: “So what if it’s not according to the textbook?”

Si Qi: “Then you only need four, including a stop key.”

The crowd erupted.

Some insisted it was impossible, others eagerly demanded: “Show us how you can complete the whole move with just four keys!”

Si Qi tapped the console, and a virtual mech appeared in the starry space, flying at a steady pace.

His fingers flew over the keys, pressing just four times. The mech flipped nearly 160 degrees at incredible speed, slipped through a tiny curve, and shifted direction—all within less than a second.

Many hadn’t even registered what happened until the mech stopped, leaving them wide-eyed in disbelief.

“Damn, that move was awesome!”

“I was staring at his fingers—he really only pressed four times!”

“But doesn’t the textbook say over a dozen presses??”

A military management upperclassman chimed in: “The textbook only covers the basics. Skilled operators often simplify the inputs to execute more moves in less time. I’ve heard veterans say they rarely follow the textbook exactly—it’s too slow.”

Some students’ eyes gleamed: “Then why do we still have to follow the textbook? We should just—”

“Stop thinking about shortcuts. If you can’t even write straight strokes, trying cursive will only produce a mess. You still need to master the basics.”

The upperclassman didn’t mince words, then added to Si Qi: “I don’t know how you simplified the Mister Flip, but this clearly isn’t suitable to teach beginners. You’ll just mislead them.”

Si Qi wasn’t angry at all. He said calmly: “This is the foundation.”

Upperclassman: ???

The upperclassman almost laughed in disbelief: “That set of moves you just did—I can’t even do it myself, and you call it the foundation?? I’ve already been interning with the military, you know?!”

Unlike soldiers who join the army later through voluntary enlistment, graduates like them who had spent years studying military management and mech operations entered service directly as second lieutenants, climbing the ranks much faster than regular soldiers.

It wasn’t because they were “VIPs” with special privileges, but because they knew more, had talent, and were truly exceptional seedlings.

After all, not every enlisted soldier was required to have mental strength above B level, to master mech operation, or to understand troop deployment. But every graduate of the officer track met these standards.

The upperclassman’s words might have sounded arrogant, but he was just keenly aware of his own value and standing in the army. If even he couldn’t pull off that move, how could it possibly be considered foundational? Wouldn’t that make him a fool who hadn’t even mastered the basics?

Si Qi: “It really is basic. I believe everyone here, after hearing my explanation, will be able to do this move.”

The upperclassman restrained his emotions and said, word by word: “Fine, then let’s see how you explain it!”

The onlookers stayed silent, waiting expectantly for Si Qi’s explanation.

Si Qi: “Just now I pressed four buttons in total—‘central spine rotation,’ ‘upper body lean back,’ ‘whole-body sidestep,’ and ‘stop.’”

Many students who hadn’t taken mech operation looked baffled: “What is he even talking about?”

Even those who had studied mech operation were stunned: “Those actions can be used together??”

“They can.” Si Qi demonstrated slowly on the spot. The mech in the starry background rotated half a circle at a sluggish pace, the movement identical to before.

Si Qi: “The Mister Flip essentially breaks down into two key points: a ‘small-scale rotation’ and ‘dodging a frontal attack.’ While the mech is maintaining steady forward motion, we can skip a lot of steps—just rotate, lean back…”

A viewer couldn’t help interrupting: “But central spine rotation is usually used for full-body spins, hardly ever for—”

Mid-sentence, he stopped, as though realizing something.

Si Qi: “Exactly. Which is why, if we switch to a sidestep at the right angle, the move stabilizes.”

At that, many students felt their minds explode, like a new door opening.

As mentioned before, students first had to learn walking, then running—these were the basics.

But once those basics were fully mastered, the run and walk operations could be simplified into preset actions: just one button to complete the whole process automatically. These were called “shortcut keys,” placed above the basic ones. Less flexible than manual control, but much more convenient.

Otherwise, if pilots really had to press buttons step by step to make the mech run, they’d be exhausted before the battle even started.

The “central spine rotation” Si Qi mentioned was one such shortcut key—a full process centering the mech’s “spine,” rotating smoothly and quickly.

By combining this with the lean-back command, and switching to sidestep at the precise point in the spin and lean, Si Qi effectively cut the action in half. The mech straightened naturally while still maintaining the sidestep posture. This eliminated numerous extra steps, reduced the chance of mis-pressing during combat, and gave the pilot more reaction time.

Some viewers tried it out on their own virtual consoles and exclaimed in shock: “Oh my god, I just tried twice and nailed it!!”

“Same here?!”

“So the Mister Flip is actually this simple?!”

The upperclassman who had mocked him earlier also tried, succeeded after a few attempts, and admitted directly in the chat: “…Sorry. I was too quick to assume. Your tutorial is valid. It doesn’t skip the basics, and it’s not luck—it just simplifies the inputs.”

The military management students were stunned: “So what Si Qi said actually works?”

Upperclassman: “Yes. His method is stable, not some shady trick. It won’t damage the mech. You can use it directly.”

He himself had learned from veterans how to simplify mech operations—using clever combinations of shortcut keys to create efficient, stable new moves. What Si Qi had just shown was exactly the same.

Simplifying an action wasn’t unheard of. Maybe Si Qi wasn’t the first to simplify the Mister Flip. But for a freshman to figure it out on his own was astonishing. His thinking had leapt beyond rote memorization into flexible application. He didn’t seem like a student at all—he was too seasoned.

Viewers were stunned. They had come out of curiosity, but it turned out to be absolutely worth it.

Si Qi remained calm, continuing: “That was just answering a viewer’s question, not the main topic. Now I’ll begin this semester’s mech course content, and share my own insights.”

After what they had just seen, everyone had new confidence in his ability, and eagerly awaited what came next. They quickly shared the livestream with classmates also studying mech piloting, then focused intently on the lesson.

Once they adjusted their mindset and listened seriously, they found themselves increasingly absorbed. Somehow Si Qi’s teaching was clearer and more useful than their professors’.

Having taught countless times across different worlds, Si Qi was unfazed. Teaching was his specialty.

He recalled the textbook in the original host’s memory, reorganized the knowledge points in his own way, and delivered them at rapid speed.

Because his explanations were simple and intuitive, no one struggled. Instead, they felt enlightened, as though becoming geniuses overnight, understanding everything instantly.

In just two hours, they absorbed huge amounts of knowledge. When Si Qi finally said, “That’s all for today’s stream,” countless viewers begged him to continue, showering him with star-tips: “Please, just one more hour! I’m not done learning yet!”

“Yes, yes, give us a bit more!”

Si Qi, helpless: “But I’ve already finished this semester’s content. I haven’t studied the rest yet.”

Viewers: ?????

“What the heck??”

“Wait—Si Qi is only a freshman?! I almost forgot!!”

Seeing this in the chat, everyone froze, then erupted into wails: “So he’s only covered the first semester’s material—aaaah!!!”

“I didn’t even realize, I thought I was listening to a professor…”

“It’s just that he could answer all our questions—he didn’t seem like a junior at all.”

“So if I want to keep learning, I’ll have to wait until he studies it first? Why does that sound so weird!”

“Si Qi, I have all the textbooks from freshman to senior year. I’ll send them to you. Study fast, then teach us!!”

“Wait… so if I master everything he just taught, I’ve basically finished half a semester’s course already??? Since when did I become this good??”

“No, not you—it’s Si Qi. He not only self-studied this semester’s content, he’s integrated it so thoroughly that he can teach others with ease.”

“God, I get now why people call him a genius. He really is.”

“I remember he only started school at fourteen, right? In four years he completed what takes us over ten, then got into Capital University—the one with the lowest acceptance rate in the alliance, the hardest school to enter.”

“Coming from such a remote, underdeveloped place and still making it into Capital University—Si Qi is really incredible.”

Many people, recalling his poor background alongside the talent he had just shown, felt a mix of admiration and pity.

Seeing some tipping him stars, many students hurried to send gifts too—not only to express gratitude, but also to support his difficult life, and to encourage him to keep streaming. It was three benefits in one.

Otherwise, what if he thought streaming was unprofitable and switched to part-time work instead, never streaming again? They had to make sure to keep him here!

Soon the whole starry background lit up brilliantly, as if the night sky was scattered with silver light—beautiful beyond words.

At that moment, a user named Chu Feng suddenly appeared, immediately sending Si Qi several Star Seas, with a note: “Excellent teaching. Keep it up.”

The students stared blankly at the dazzling stars.

Then, realizing who it was, the chat exploded.

“Wait, is that Senior Chu?! The one I think it is?? He’s here too?!”

“Ahhhh help!! I’m so close to Senior Chu!!!”