My Live Broadcast Room Can Teach You Everything (14): 

Li Zhaoran was a little puzzled as to why Si Qi would react this way.

Not only him, but also the classmates around who had a decent relationship with Si Qi were confused. They didn’t expect Si Qi to be so gentle toward his uncle, yet so cold and indifferent toward his own biological father.

Si Qi often appeared in public, and the impression he left was always extremely positive. Nobody thought Si Qi was the type to deliberately show someone a bad face. At this moment, they didn’t associate him with anything negative. On the contrary, some even secretly wondered if Si Yishan had done something behind the scenes, like helping Si Yuan vent his anger by teaching Si Qi a lesson, which would explain why Si Qi had such an attitude toward him.

Li Zhaoran thought of this, and asked indirectly, pretending to be casual: “Before you knew who Xiao Qi really was, did you do something that upset him?”

Si Yishan’s face was stern, and his tone wasn’t pleasant: “I only spoke a few words to him on the day of the entrance exam.”

Li Zhaoran gave an “oh,” and unreasonably said: “Then it must have been that time. Your actions indirectly led to Xiao Qi being bullied at school…”

Si Yishan’s expression darkened.

He wanted to say this had nothing to do with him, that the one who did wrong was Si Yuan, not him.

But he knew better than anyone that this really was something he had deliberately orchestrated. He had wanted Si Yuan to target Si Qi so he himself could benefit from the chaos.

Who would have thought it would all turn out like this.

Who was the bastard who, over such a trivial matter, went to Li Zhaoran and tattled?

He shot a cold glance at Si Yuan, the chill in his eyes sharp as ice. Si Yuan instinctively shivered, his face showing fear.

Si Yuan knew he was finished. Whether it was his stolen identity as a fake young master, or his attempts over the past period to poison and kill the real one, any of those were enough to make his father deal with him personally.

His illegitimate brothers wouldn’t let this chance slip either. Everything he had once done to them would now be paid back in full.

His lips trembled as he tried to speak to his father, hoping for even the slightest shred of pity.

But just as the word “Dad” left his mouth, the man turned and walked away without looking back, treating him as if he were air, leaving him frozen in place, enduring the murmurs of those around.

None of his lackeys came forward to speak to him, nor to escort him somewhere private for comfort. When their eyes met his, they only showed disgust, eager to cut ties with him.

These were people who had only followed him to flaunt power because of the influence behind him. Now that he had lost his prestigious background, they abandoned him faster than anyone.

Worse still, if Si Qi showed even a hint of dislike toward him, these same lackeys—who used to flatter him—would happily step on him to climb higher, “avenging” Si Qi just to curry favor.

After all, they had once used the same method—helping Si Yuan go against Si Qi—to get close to him.

The more Si Yuan thought about it, the more suffocated he felt. He couldn’t bear to face everyone anymore, so he covered his face and fled to a hidden corner where no one could see him, weeping bitterly.

Meanwhile, on Si Qi’s side—

After Si Yishan left, Li Zhaoran didn’t want to stay and get entangled with Si Yuan either, so he left as well.

He went to Si Qi, who was getting along harmoniously with Chu Feng, nothing like the icy attitude he had shown Si Yishan earlier. Li Zhaoran approached and asked with concern, “Xiao Qi, were you upset just now?”

Si Qi didn’t hide it, and nodded. “A little.”

Li Zhaoran sat down nearby and asked gently, “You’re a sensible child. You’ve said before you don’t blame us for what happened back then, so if you’re reacting this way, it must be for another reason, right? Can you tell your uncle?”

His tone was warm, his eyes full of reassurance, as if to say, “Just speak, don’t be afraid, your uncle will believe you.” It gave a strong sense of safety.

Seeing this, Si Qi sighed inwardly, feeling it unfair for Li Zhaoran.

He didn’t understand how, with Li Zhaoran treating his juniors so kindly, Si Yuan could have such baseless insecurity, betraying him so righteously. Si Qi said, “You know the kind of environment I grew up in. It made me very sensitive to malice. I can tell who treats me well and who doesn’t. That’s why I trust you and Chu Feng completely, but…”

He frowned slightly and said with puzzlement: “Whether it was when we met at the start of school, or just now, even including the encounter with those two patrol officers, General Si always gives me a very bad feeling. It’s even stronger than Si Yuan’s hostility.”

Li Zhaoran, hearing this, didn’t dismiss his intuition as laughable or deny it with old-fashioned views, but instead thought carefully, mulling over Si Yishan’s behavior recently.

When discussing Si Qi, the man always seemed eager for him to come home, with no sign of dislike.

He tentatively asked: “Could it be a misunderstanding?”

Si Qi shook his head firmly. “Since childhood, this intuition has helped me avoid many troubles. I trust my own judgment.”

Li Zhaoran felt troubled, not knowing how to persuade him.

Privately, he still hoped Si Qi could build a better relationship with Si Yishan, since that would help his future development.

But Chu Feng had a different view: “If Xiao Qi feels uncomfortable being around his father, why force him to? He’s already an adult, he can live independently.”

Li Zhaoran fell silent.

Thinking carefully, he realized that was true. With Si Qi’s intelligence, and with the Li and Chu families supporting him, Si Qi would do well even without relying on Si Yishan’s connections.

Besides, what could be more important than Si Qi’s own wishes?

Having thought it through, Li Zhaoran said to Si Qi, “In that case, just take your time with your father. There’s no rush.”

Si Qi smiled at this.

The shocking reversal of Si Qi and Si Yuan’s identities spread across the entire starnet within just an hour after the exam ended.

Si Qi had already been a well-known rising star in the Alliance, and his inspirational story was widely remembered.

Many parents used his background to motivate their children: if Si Qi, without parents, growing up in harsh conditions on a remote planet, could rely on himself to enter the Alliance’s best university and change his life, what excuse did their own kids have not to work hard?

Now that his true identity was exposed, with dramatic elements of a grassroots child switching places with a rich heir and family feuds, the story became even more sensational. The videos of Si Yuan being slapped down by two elders delighted Si Qi’s fans, who celebrated that the bully finally got what he deserved, losing the backing he had relied on.

Some even used this as an excuse to push bloodline theory: among so many children on remote planets, why was it only Si Qi who succeeded? Surely it was because he inherited the general’s bloodline!

Those who believed ordinary people could succeed through hard work were indignant: “Does the general also excel at making games? Does the general also excel at teaching? Si Qi is outstanding because of his own efforts—what does bloodline have to do with it?”

“Si Qi grew up without eating a single grain from the general’s household, and his attitude toward the general is lukewarm at best. Why are you so eager to credit all of Si Qi’s achievements to Si Yishan? Can’t the boy succeed on his own merits?”

When confronted, those insisting it was due to genetics hastily backpedaled: “I was just saying casually…”

Others, embarrassed by the rebuttal, lashed out at Si Qi instead: “They say he was born but never raised properly by his mother, and it shows. Look how cold he is to his own father—obviously his character is bad!”

“Maybe the friendly face he shows others is just an act. A person who doesn’t even care about his own father, would he really care about strangers?”

As such voices grew, some netizens who didn’t understand why Si Qi rejected Si Yishan began to feel doubt.

They couldn’t figure it out: why would such an outstanding general be rejected by his son?

But in truth, those were the minority. As reports spread of Si Qi being warmly received at the Li family home and by the Alliance’s Chief Executive (Chu Feng’s father), showered with lavish gifts like gemstones, villas, islands, and company shares, online discussions escalated.

Soon, netizens uncovered the masterminds behind the baby swap that had placed Si Yuan in the general’s household instead of Si Qi.

The Zhang family’s businesses were immediately hit with a massive boycott. Their products and companies were listed out in detail and marked with big red crosses.

Students and parents who had once benefited from Si Qi, office workers who had played his games—once they learned of the Zhang family’s ugly deeds, how they had tried to kill one baby and forced another into poisoning his adoptive father—were utterly disgusted and lost all goodwill toward them.

The Alliance’s enforcement agencies struck swiftly, investigating all of the Zhang family’s businesses and uncovering numerous illegal activities. Most of the main decision-makers were arrested, leaving only a few younger members uninvolved in the family business to hurriedly take over the mess, forced to handle problems too large even for adults.

Worse, the secret data they had stolen from the Li family was fake. The project they had invested heavily in was doomed from the start. Even though they pulled out after Si Qi’s identity was exposed, all the money they had sunk was lost.

Meanwhile, the Li family and other forces eyeing Zhang family’s wealth pounced like wolves, carving up their fortune and seizing huge chunks of their market. In the blink of an eye, the once-mighty conglomerate was reduced to barely surviving, its wealth shrunk to just one percent of what it had been.

Like the Zhang family’s desperate juniors, Si Yuan’s life also became miserable.

He had thought that, having sacrificed so much for the Zhangs, they wouldn’t abandon him and would surely reward him.

But within days, their leaders were all arrested, and his father too was jailed for his role in the baby swap. Si Yuan could no longer count on him.

So he went to the Zhangs, bringing recordings of his conversations with his father, revealing how the Zhangs had instructed him to steal company secrets and poison his adoptive father. He tried to use this as leverage to demand hush money.

But instead of getting what he wanted, he walked into a trap. The furious Zhang juniors, already under heavy attack from outside forces, blamed him for everything. They believed it was his incompetence that had ruined them—provoking Si Qi, exposing his identity early, and ruining their years of planning.

Even the disastrous investment was his fault, they said. He had stolen the fake data and handed it to them, letting them fall into the Li family’s trap and lose everything.

Otherwise, they could have at least gathered enough funds to resist their rivals instead of being left with nothing.

It was all Si Yuan’s fault!

The moment they saw him, they ordered the butler to capture him. A group of them swarmed him, beating and cursing, saying he must have deliberately sided with the Lis, calling him a lowly illegitimate child, unworthy to even call himself a Zhang.

They mocked him for thinking he could threaten them with such evidence. “It was your father who did all that. If you want to cause trouble, go find him. At worst he’ll serve a longer sentence—who cares?”

But as for Si Yuan, since he was complicit, the evidence would only implicate him further, landing him in prison too.

Beaten black and blue, he was thrown out of the Zhang estate, unable to move.

The sight of him lying on the ground, barely clinging to life, was strikingly similar to how helpless the original host had looked in the examination hall.

Everyone knew that Si Yuan was destined never to rise again in this lifetime.

Because of his numerous misdeeds, he would be persuaded to withdraw from school. The illegitimate children and those he had once harmed would try every possible way to suppress and retaliate against him. No employer would welcome someone so morally corrupt into their business. His only way out would be to wait until the storm passed, then go into hiding on some remote, backward planet where nobody knew him, living in constant fear that his true identity might be discovered.

Perhaps he would still go online, where he might come across news about Si Qi.

The more famous and accomplished Si Qi became, the more unbearable it would be for him. He would not be able to resist imagining: if he had not provoked Si Qi back then, would he still be the Si family’s eldest young master? Would Li Zhaoran have never discovered that his nephew was actually Si Qi?

Even if Si Qi lived gloriously under his very nose, praised by everyone, what did that really matter to Si Yuan? Why had he been so shortsighted as to make trouble for Si Qi in the first place?

Unfortunately, regret was useless now. All he could do was spend the rest of his life reliving that bitter torment.

And it wasn’t just Si Yuan who was depressed—Si Yishan was as well.

These days, he had been trying to approach Si Qi, hoping to lower his guard.

But for some reason, Si Qi refused to give him the slightest chance, not even basic courtesy. When he saw him, he wouldn’t even speak. This angered him greatly, yet under the eyes of others, he could do nothing. He couldn’t even openly fall out with Si Qi, much less threaten or pressure him. On the contrary, he had to keep talking to him politely.

But Si Qi was no longer the boy who had just arrived in the capital star. Now, with both the Li and Chu families protecting him, and his own fame spreading far and wide at such a young age, the influence of the General’s Mansion meant nothing to him.

Even when Si Yishan swallowed his pride and said, “Everything that belongs to your father is yours. It will all be left to you. As long as you come home and live with your father, I will be satisfied and want nothing else,” Si Qi remained indifferent.

It was an offer others would kill for, yet Si Qi just stared at him with a blank face, unmoved.

At one point, when Si Yishan was particularly emotional, Si Qi even clapped for him—clapping with a look of admiration, as if praising his progress—and then casually reached into his pocket, as though preparing to reward him with two coins.

Si Yishan was furious. After being rebuffed again and again, he lost face everywhere.

Finally, he realized that Si Qi truly wanted nothing to do with him. The more he thought about how he had once humbled himself to speak with Si Qi, the angrier he became.

At that moment, the doctor told him his mental power was deteriorating rapidly. If he didn’t undergo surgery within a month, he would completely lose it, and his intelligence might even be affected.

The so-called Son of the World did have a backup plan. Among his illegitimate children was one who had also awakened mental power and was fairly compatible with him. The child’s mother was a vain woman who cared more about the benefits the child could bring than the child himself. Taking the boy away for surgery would be easy.

But the boy’s mental power was only at level E. The Son of the World disdained such a weak level. Even if the surgery succeeded, his own strength would be greatly reduced. Having grown accustomed to holding power and superiority, he could not accept such humiliation. Unless absolutely necessary, he would never settle for that option.

As time passed, with no sign of Si Qi softening, the Son of the World grew increasingly impatient and began to hate him.

He no longer cared about preserving Si Qi’s life or maintaining ties with the Li family. He only wanted Si Qi dead—dead so that his organs could still be harvested while viable and placed on the operating table.

Thus, he gave up on compromise and stopped approaching Si Qi directly.

Instead, he had his men stir up public opinion online, riling up netizens to condemn Si Qi for ignoring familial ties, for repeatedly showing disrespect to his biological father in public. Even if he did not wish to honor his father, should he not at least respect a national hero?

They argued that just because of a schemer’s trick years ago, Si Qi now hated his father to the core. Even when his father begged him to come home, he refused—was he not thinking too highly of himself?

They called him nothing more than an internet celebrity, famous for being a young prodigy, yet arrogant enough to disregard his elders. Clearly, his character was flawed.

Under the push of paid trolls, such voices multiplied, until it seemed as if the whole world condemned Si Qi. Many insisted that if he wanted to remain beloved online, he had to listen to public opinion and reconcile with his father.

The Son of the World thought his plan was flawless. Seeing the relentless criticism, he believed Si Qi would soon cave in, humiliated and apologetic.

But to his surprise, Si Qi simply didn’t care.

Whether praised or scolded, he went on living as he always did—uploading videos on schedule, updating his game, visiting elders and accompanying them on outings, exploring new fields in his spare time, and sharing his insights online.

The online chatter seemed completely irrelevant to him. He ignored all the insults and condemnations, treating the trolls like air.

If he didn’t even look at their words, what effect could they have?

The trolls, frustrated, grew anxious. If they couldn’t crush Si Qi, then they themselves would be in trouble when their employers saw their failure.

So they turned to attacking those around him, hoping to cause pain through the people he cared about.

Li Zhaoran, angered by the situation, even went to Si Yishan and urged him to clarify matters publicly so that Si Qi wouldn’t be put in such an awkward position.

Si Yishan outwardly agreed, and in his social circles, he casually mentioned it to a few high-ranking figures. He put on a bitter smile, making them feel sorry for him. They concluded that since he wasn’t at fault for what happened years ago, it was unreasonable for Si Qi to hate his own father so much.

Later, when Li Zhaoran heard these same influential figures speaking with dissatisfaction toward Si Qi, he was furious.

He thought bitterly that it would have been better not to explain at all. Now even elders who rarely paid attention to the internet were starting to dislike Si Qi.

If Si Yishan truly cared about Si Qi’s reputation, he could easily have recorded a video saying, “This is a family matter. Si Qi is still young, struggling to process his feelings and accept me as his father. Please don’t be too harsh on him.”

How hard could that be?

The more Li Zhaoran thought about it, the angrier he became. Just as he was about to confront Si Yishan again, several of the general’s medical records suddenly leaked online.

The records stated in detail that years ago, a certain General Si had developed a brain condition. His mental power was steadily deteriorating due to organ failure, and he would soon lose it entirely, even risking intellectual decline.

In short, before long, the general would be unable to pilot mechs or command troops, and if the illness worsened, he would become mentally disabled.

The news shocked the entire internet.

People began reminiscing about Si Yishan’s past achievements. Articles and videos praising his contributions flooded in. Overnight, the public grieved for him and sincerely offered prayers.

Even some of Si Qi’s most loyal fans, who had supported his decision not to return to the Si family, began to waver.

Together with the trolls, they gently urged Si Qi to return home and spend time with his father. After all, his father was already gravely ill and had little time left.

If he regretted it later, it would be too late.

But Si Qi, who had long known about the Son of the World’s illness and who had personally leaked the records online, only laughed brightly at the public’s reaction.

In his mind, Xiu Xiu projected Si Yishan’s furious outburst into his consciousness space: Si Yishan had overturned a table in rage, terrifying his subordinates into silence.

His longtime colleagues, alarmed, called him, angrily questioning why he hadn’t disclosed his illness earlier. What if their enemies exploited this now? How were they supposed to handle it unprepared?

They also shouted about who would command his forces once he collapsed, and why he had been foolish enough to let his medical records leak.

Their words dripped with disdain, treating him like a useless liability who had dragged them all down.

Si Yishan, seething, could only grit his teeth and insist that the records were fake.

But they only sneered, mocking him. Did he think seasoned veterans like them couldn’t tell real from fake? He might fool others, but not them. Clearly, he no longer treated them as allies.

Unable to explain, he was ridiculed and angrily hung up the phone.

He ordered an investigation into who had leaked the records and interrogated the terrified doctor for hours, but learned nothing.

Overwhelmed by the crisis, he was even preparing for the worst—resorting to transplanting that child’s brain organ if he had no other choice.

Meanwhile, at the very height of the public’s sympathy for the Son of the World, Si Qi uploaded several new videos.

From that point, events spiraled completely out of control.