My Live Broadcast Room Can Teach You Everything (11): 

Si Yuan immediately informed the Zhang family about this matter.

The Zhang family could not believe that the baby from back then was still alive, suspecting that Si Yuan was overthinking. But after looking at the photos of Si Qi with Si Yishan and Li Qiran, they fell silent, then secretly obtained Si Qi’s and the Li family’s genetic data for comparison. That same night, they told Si Yuan that Si Qi was indeed Li Qiran’s child.

Si Yuan’s heart sank heavily.

He asked, “What are you planning to do?”

The man on the other end of the line spoke coldly: “Of course we must destroy the evidence—just kill him.”

Si Yuan pressed his lips together.

The man continued, “Si Qi cannot be allowed to live. If his identity is revealed, people will start doubting your background. Everything you’ve done before will be exposed, and after Si Yishan’s death, that position won’t fall to you.”

At this point, the man’s tone carried anger: “I gave you poison such a long time ago, and you still haven’t found a chance to use it!”

Si Yuan was also irritated. “My father is too wary of me, and we aren’t even close. How could I possibly get the chance to harm him? Even if I bring him coffee, he doesn’t take a single sip and just has the maid pour it out. Am I supposed to grab the cup and force it down his throat?”

The man scoffed with disdain: “You’ve lived by his side for so many years, and this is the best you can do as his son? Pathetic.”

Si Yuan’s face turned crimson. He wanted to argue back but found himself at a loss for words.

God knew how bitter he felt whenever he saw a full cup of coffee he’d carefully prepared being discarded untouched. His father simply didn’t care about him—he wouldn’t even taste the coffee his own son had made with effort.

Even one sip would have been enough; his father wouldn’t have come out unscathed. Clearly, he hadn’t even tried it…

What kind of father acts like this? Too cold-blooded.

Si Yuan was full of resentment, but he couldn’t complain to his biological father on the other end of the call, so he could only swallow the frustration with nowhere to vent.

Si Yuan asked, “Does Si Qi know his real identity? He came all the way from the trash star to the capital star, and of all things, chose the military administration department—was that just to get close to my father?”

The man’s tone was harsh: “I wondered the same, but it shouldn’t be the case. He doesn’t know, and he has no way of knowing.”

After all, even they had only just learned the truth. Back then, Si Qi was just an infant living on a backward trash star—how could he possibly know about these secrets?

Si Yuan frowned. “Then why did he enter the mecha competition…”

The man grew even more displeased, angrily saying, “Maybe the Si family really is talented in this field. Si Qi must have inherited his father’s skills…”

Who would have thought that a child abandoned on a trash star, surviving off scavenging, would have such resilience—growing up well in those conditions, and even managing to get admitted into the same school as Si Yuan?

Didn’t that prove how superior the genes of the Li and Si families were, while the Zhang family’s were inferior in comparison?

After all, Si Yuan had benefited from both families all these years, enjoying the finest education in the alliance, yet he still couldn’t measure up to Si Qi. Truly infuriating…

Si Yuan quickly realized this as well. His heart burned with both shame and anger, and he grew more jealous of Si Qi.

Why was Si Qi so lucky? Even after being sent to a remote planet, he could still unknowingly return to the capital star and meet his father.

Why hadn’t he just stayed dead when he was strangled as a baby? Why did he have to come back and cause trouble?

Even if he had achieved nothing and lived quietly as a normal student, fine—but why must he shine in every field, becoming the center of attention, constantly risking exposure to both families?

Si Qi was unbearable. Everything he did threatened him. Why wouldn’t he just die?!

Bloodshot eyes blazing, Si Yuan asked the man opposite: “What are you planning to do?”

“Poison, a car accident—there’s always a way,” the man replied coldly. “It’s just that Chu Feng has been sticking to Si Qi lately. Killing him under his watch would be difficult. Even if we succeed, they could still find clues from the body. If all else fails, in half a month your school has a live-combat training…”

Si Yuan’s eyes lit up, quickly understanding: “We can kill Si Qi during the training!”

“Exactly,” the man said coldly. “While the Li and Si families remain unaware of Si Qi’s existence, kill him early to prevent endless trouble.”

“There are already expected casualties during the exam. One more death—Si Qi’s—won’t matter.” Si Yuan’s eyes gleamed. “My uncle loves me so much. Even if he finds Si Qi’s death suspicious, he won’t connect it to me. And even if he does, as long as I beg him, he won’t have the heart to expose me.”

At this, he laughed gleefully: “When the day comes that he loses everything, I’ll tell him the truth—that Si Qi was his real nephew, and because he covered for me, his true nephew died unacknowledged, with no one ever seeking justice for him. Won’t that drive him insane? Hahahaha…”

Thinking about how he had the backing of three families and a group of lackeys at his disposal, Si Yuan felt assured. If he was determined to kill Si Qi, even if Si Qi was skilled in combat, he couldn’t hold out forever against so many enemies.

Once Si Qi was dead and gone, there would be no more hidden dangers. Even if the Si and Li families sensed something wrong, it would be too late to investigate.

“This can’t be delayed,” the man said. “If you don’t want your false identity exposed, you can’t show mercy.”

Si Yuan sneered, “Mercy? As if.”

At this point, how could he ever be merciful to Si Qi? He hated him to death.

Si Yuan’s eyes glinted with malice as he swore: “I will kill that brat.”

Bang—

On the other side of the screen, Li Zhaoran furiously smashed the ceramic cup in his hand to the ground, his eyes bloodshot and breathing ragged.

“Beast—what a beast!!”

How many chances had he given Si Yuan these days? Every meeting, his attitude had remained unchanged, hoping Si Yuan would feel guilty, repent, and come clean to him.

But what did Si Yuan do?

Time and again, he colluded with the Zhang family, leaking company secrets to them, even loading virus files into their mechas! He knew that if those mechas malfunctioned during battle, countless soldiers would die, and the consequences would be catastrophic! He knew—and still, he wanted to destroy the Li family, to kill them all!

Looking at Si Yuan’s hateful face on the screen, Li Zhaoran was filled with regret.

How blind had he been to think this boy was endearing, to lavish him with care? Yet this very person had endlessly humiliated and slandered Si Qi, whose life he had stolen—and now even wanted him dead!

Poor Si Qi—growing up without parents, living in a place where even survival wasn’t guaranteed, bullied by everyone around him. He had struggled so hard to escape, only to face Si Yuan’s schemes, unable to recognize his father even when they met, all while nearly being murdered by his malicious hands…

If he hadn’t discovered Si Qi’s true identity, wouldn’t the Li family have been destroyed without ever knowing why? Wouldn’t Si Qi have been killed right under their noses without them even realizing?

The more he thought about it, the more Li Zhaoran’s heart ached.

How shameful it was that he had once pitied Si Yuan! He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Si Qi about this—how heartbroken would Si Qi be, knowing his own uncle not only avoided recognizing him but even sympathized with the culprit, giving him endless chances to repent?

Li Zhaoran’s face burned red with shame, not knowing how to face Si Qi.

Forcing himself to calm down, he informed Si Yishan about the matter, since dealing with assassination attempts was what Si Yishan excelled at.

Si Qi was Si Yishan’s own son—there was no way he wouldn’t care. He would surely protect him well.

Si Yishan agreed without hesitation, promising to handle the situation.

Feeling reassured, Li Zhaoran then called Chu Feng, instructing him to stay by Si Qi’s side and ensure his safety.

Chu Feng solemnly promised he understood, saying that even if he were injured, he would never let Si Qi come to harm.

Hearing Chu Feng’s dedication, Li Zhaoran felt relieved, thinking highly of him. He believed Chu Feng was a good child and hoped Si Qi would form a close bond with him, becoming good brothers and companions.

If Si Qi wanted to integrate into their circle, he would need true friends—and Chu Feng was undoubtedly the best candidate.

Si Qi, seeing his uncle finish the two calls with such a relieved expression, felt both amused and exasperated.

Xiu Xiu, live-broadcasting to Si Qi, complained: [First call to the very murderer who wants you dead, asking him to protect you. Second call to the main god who abducted you, asking him to stick close and keep you safe… Your uncle really knows how to pick people! What bad luck!]

Si Qi chuckled softly: [Indeed.]

Time flew by, and another month quickly passed.

The undercurrents between the three families aside, the relationship between Si Qi and Chu Feng had grown closer, nearly inseparable, soon noticed by those around them.

Because of Si Qi’s stellar reputation and well-known genius, Chu Feng’s fans didn’t look down on his background from the remote star. Instead, they found it inspiring that if Si Qi and Chu Feng truly connected through talent, a lonely orphan could become the future governor’s partner.

People online began posting supportive messages for Si Qi, creating many CP-style videos of him and Chu Feng, which spread widely. More and more people became curious about Si Qi, fascinated by this extraordinary teenager.

Some who had thought Si Qi had no backing and could be manipulated—used for hype or cheap labor—quickly abandoned such ideas.

Even though Si Qi might seem like just a popular streamer, his fans never treated him as an ordinary one. They saw him as a teacher. Parents especially were grateful, believing their children’s rapid progress was all thanks to him.

Moreover, Si Qi had competed several times representing the Comprehensive Academy, winning championships every time and bringing honor to the school. Online, he became famous as the academy’s prodigy, further boosting its reputation. Teachers and students adored him—if anyone dared mistreat him, the academy would be the first to protest.

After all, the Comprehensive Academy wasn’t an institution to trifle with. Its graduates went on to become top leaders across the alliance. Children of powerful figures—like Chu Feng and Si Yuan—if they scored high enough, always prioritized this school. Over time, its teachers had built vast networks, and its students had even more astonishing connections.

Because they liked and respected Si Qi, if he ever faced trouble, these teachers and classmates wouldn’t hesitate to help. He had steadily built this invisible network through his own ability, proving that even with an ordinary background, he could rely on himself to become his greatest support.

As for his closeness with Chu Feng—if it were anyone else, people might say they didn’t deserve him. But with Si Qi, no one did, because his ability and character were undeniable.

That fact alone said a lot.

Li Zhaoran had seen the online rumors and knew people were “mistakenly” treating Si Qi and Chu Feng as a couple.

Recently, the Zhang family and Si Yuan hadn’t stopped their schemes. To prevent them from lashing out and harming Si Qi, Chu Feng stayed constantly by his side, meticulously careful in every way.

Perhaps because Chu Feng was too attentive, outsiders misunderstood their relationship, assuming they were lovers.

Li Zhaoran believed he saw through everything. So even when Chu Feng spent the night in Si Qi’s dorm, he stayed calm—actually comforted, thinking Chu Feng was simply thorough and responsible.

He was utterly blind to the obvious.

Anyway, since Chu Feng was looking after things on Si Qi’s side, Li Zhaoran wasn’t worried at all. What he did keep a close eye on, however, were the petty tricks from the Zhang family and Si Yuan, and he grew more and more hateful toward that despicable bunch.

The little pity he once felt for Si Yuan had long since been worn away each time Si Yuan schemed to hurt Si Qi. Now, all Li Zhaoran wanted was to use the false information he had fed Si Yuan to weave an inescapable trap for the Zhang family, watch them sink deeper and deeper until they could never turn back, and make them regret what they had done to Si Qi, never able to rise again for the rest of their lives.

That day was the year-end assessment for first-year students of the Military Management Department at the Comprehensive Academy. Students followed their teachers on a starship to a nearby uninhabited planet to undergo a real combat exam.

As mentioned before, the Military Management Department at the academy was directly connected to the military. Graduates would automatically receive the rank of second lieutenant when joining the army, so their exams were no different from new recruit training, even stricter, with a certain degree of danger—and the possibility of death.

In the original timeline, the original host was ambushed during this exam by Si Yuan and a group of his lackeys. Outnumbered, his mech was heavily damaged. Then, men secretly sent by Si Yishan knocked him unconscious and took him away, sabotaging the mech’s energy system. The mech exploded, leaving only shattered metal debris at the site—no body to be found. Si Yuan and the others believed they had accidentally killed Si Qi. Even when the Li family’s investigation later pointed at Si Yuan, he still thought he was the killer, never realizing he was shouldering the blame for his so-called father.

This time, Si Yuan still intended to deal with Si Qi during the exam. But unlike before, when he only wanted to cripple him and force him out of the academy, this time his goal from the start was Si Qi’s death, and he had gathered even more people.

The Zhang family went even further, spending a fortune to buy off some students. They didn’t tell them the plan was to kill Si Qi—only instructed them to follow arrangements and do what seemed like small, harmless tasks.

These small tasks, strung together one after another, would form a trap that left Si Qi with no way out. Even if those students realized later that something was wrong and that they had indirectly caused Si Qi’s death, they would never dare speak up—that would mean destroying their own future.

Li Zhaoran noticed the Zhang family’s movements and grew uneasy. He specifically asked Si Yishan if he was prepared. Si Yishan said he had arranged for his men to act as exam instructors and set patrols around the exam site to keep watch over Si Qi, ensuring he would not be in danger.

Since even Si Qi’s biological father said so, Li Zhaoran naturally relaxed. He watched the academy organize the year-end exam in an orderly fashion, then—while pretending not to care—ran to the monitoring room at the exam site to keep an eye on Si Qi.

He truly cared about this nephew, terrified that even the slightest harm might come to him.

The teachers, seeing the board member Li Zhaoran travel such a long way, smiled and said he must really dote on Si Yuan, raising him like his own son.

Someone even pulled up a satellite feed, locking the camera onto Si Yuan, and showed the footage to Li Zhaoran.

That person then started showering Si Yuan with exaggerated praise—talented, outstanding, promising—trying to curry favor but instead nearly making Li Zhaoran’s face turn black on the spot.

Li Zhaoran coughed lightly and hinted: “Besides Si Yuan, the other students at our academy are also very outstanding.”

“Indeed,” the teachers nodded in agreement, chiming in one after another: “Among this year’s students, the most outstanding is surely Si Qi. The child is talented, perceptive, a very promising seedling.”

“After he graduates, his achievements will surely be great.”

“Someone even came to me through connections, asking if Si Qi could privately tutor their child. The fee they offered was enough to make me tempted myself!”

“Si Qi has no shortage of money. At least a third of the students in the Star Alliance attend his weekend lectures, and each live broadcast brings in income comparable to a small company’s yearly hard work.”

Hearing everyone speak this way, Li Zhaoran felt very pleased.

Compared to the hollow flattery earlier about Si Yuan’s supposed potential, these praises of Si Qi were sincere. Who was more outstanding was obvious.

The child his sister gave birth to was simply better than that fake Si Yuan.

Just as he was thinking that, the person who had been flattering him earlier suddenly spoke up in rebuttal: “Si Qi may have talent, but there’s no need to praise him so highly.

“At the end of the day, he’s just a student. There are plenty of people stronger than him. And instead of applying himself, he spends all his time on livestreaming. Does he even remember he’s still a student? It’s absurd.”

As soon as those words fell, the teachers on-site were stunned.

Some wanted to argue, to point out that Si Qi’s work was far more than just livestreaming, but then they noticed Li Zhaoran’s dark expression. They remembered the recent conflict between Si Qi and Si Yuan, and how enthusiastically they had just been praising Si Qi. Suddenly, they “understood” and all fell silent.

Li Zhaoran: “…………”

I wasn’t, I didn’t.

What he really wanted was for everyone to refute that guy’s nonsense and keep praising his dear nephew. Instead, because of him, everyone stopped saying good things about Si Qi in front of him. It almost drove him mad with frustration.

The sycophant, seeing this, looked smug, flashing a big smile at Li Zhaoran, and added: “You see, this exam is about overall strength. Si Qi is distracted and careless with his studies, so his performance will surely be mediocre.

“But Young Master Si has been training in real combat with General Si since childhood. He’s certain to achieve excellent results this time.”

“…Is that so? Then I must pay very close attention,” Li Zhaoran ground out through clenched teeth, secretly memorizing the man’s face, wishing for a chance to make his life difficult later.

Meanwhile, the students boarded their mechs and were randomly dropped by the starship into various points across the exam field.

They needed to avoid traps, compete with other students to seize hidden items, each worth different points depending on difficulty, then gather enough to meet the academy’s score requirement. They also had to protect their items from being stolen and reach the final checkpoint within the time limit to complete the assessment.

After landing, Si Qi activated his scanner, picked a random direction, and advanced quickly.

Half an hour later, while collecting items, he encountered another mech. That pilot sent a signal requesting cooperation, but Si Qi ignored it, using his actions to refuse, and flew past at a distance.

Not long after, XiuXiu intercepted a signal from the mech behind, then reported to Si Qi: [Master, he sent out a location ping—pointing straight at you.]

Student IDs were marked on the outside of mechs, so if someone wanted to investigate, they could indeed identify the pilot.

But to go so far as to send Si Qi’s coordinates to others… not many people would do that.

Si Qi asked: [The Zhang family?]

XiuXiu traced the signal and confirmed: [Yes, it’s them. They’ve planted people everywhere to track your movements. Truly despicable.]

Si Qi curved his lips, but there was no mirth in his eyes.

[Without being despicable, how could they pull off a child-swapping murder?]

He flew onward, searching for scattered mission items.

Each was hidden in secretive spots with unexpected traps nearby, requiring careful evasion and quick reflexes—testing both sharp eyes and adaptability.

Some places couldn’t even be entered alone, requiring several people to cooperate.

Controlling a basic training mech, Si Qi darted quickly through trap after trap. Grabbing a supply box from the ground, he was about to leave when he caught a flash of abnormal sparks out of the corner of his eye. His fingers flew across the console, and he leapt backward out of the trap.

Landing, he glanced back at the triggered magnetic storm device and shook his head with a smile.

“To use something like this as exam equipment… this academy really is…”

Opening the box, he found a short-blade weapon for mechs. Not needing it, he stored it in his mech’s side compartment.

On the student score display, his points suddenly jumped by ten, startling the teachers in the monitoring room, who thought the machine was broken.

“I remember all ten-point items were surrounded by magnetic storm traps. Could this be dodged with just a training mech?”

“Probably just a setup mistake,” another teacher dismissed. “That’s not something students should be able to avoid. If I were piloting a training mech, I might not dodge it either.”

“But…” the one at the screen hesitated. “This student is Si Qi.”

The teacher fell silent for a moment.

“Ahem, well, in that case, maybe it really is possible,” he admitted awkwardly.

“Switch the camera feed to Si Qi,” another teacher said, curiosity piqued. “I want to see how he pulled it off just now.”