Xie Ran’s actions were too unexpected, and the audience in the livestream room was instantly stunned. The entire comment section was filled with question marks.

Xie Ran glanced at the comments but didn’t care, continuing to do his own thing as usual.

So the fans just watched helplessly as Xie Ran kept opening and closing various web pages, rapidly clicking into all kinds of academic journals… He even skillfully bypassed the firewall to search for foreign-language materials on international sites.

Moreover, Xie Ran operated at an extremely fast pace. Normally, streamers would slow down their computer operations a bit to accommodate the viewers so they could see clearly.

But Xie Ran had no such concern at all—his speed was so fast that people even wondered if he himself could see clearly… The key was, he also made annotations.

[Dude, slow down a bit, I’m going cross-eyed…]

[Is Xie Ran just showing off? How is he reading so fast? And it’s all in another language?!]

[Could be legit… Didn’t he just annotate something?]

[I remember Xiao Ran has a pretty good academic background, but isn’t this stuff way too advanced?]

[I think he’s just typing nonsense. I don’t buy it. I’ll record the stream and review it later to see what he actually wrote.]

[What’s going on with Xiao Ran today? He hasn’t said a word. Lonely like snow…]

[Babe, say something, please!]

Xie Ran didn’t interact with the comments, but what he was doing was just too bizarre. There was also an oddly profound academic vibe about it. No other streamer had ever done anything like this before. Although quite a few fans gradually exited the livestream because they couldn’t understand what was going on and got bored, many others shared his stream out of mischief or curiosity.

[Link: The hottest campus heartthrob live-editing an SCI paper?]

[Link: Streamer browses tech company websites and may have found a bug!]

[Link: Click to witness the fastest hands on the internet—what a waste he’s not a pro esports player 🤪]

Some people even jokingly tagged academic influencers and university accounts on Weibo, asking them to come evaluate Xie Ran’s academic level.

And oddly enough, it did attract some people to click into the stream just to see the commotion. But most of them couldn’t really understand what Xie Ran was doing—either they simply found it boring, or they thought Xie Ran was just putting on a show. No one really took his stream seriously.

So people came in and went out, and time passed unknowingly. The popularity of Xie Ran’s stream remained in a delicate balance—steadily and evenly… low.

Finally, after an hour, some of the original fans of the account host couldn’t take it anymore and let out the cries of fans who cared about his career:

[Xiao Ran, what on earth are you doing?! This is way too boring. Are you really not taking livestreaming seriously as a job?!]

[Even though we always joke that you’re a corporate drone, even corporate workers have to be serious during work hours… You can’t just slack off like this!]

[Keep this up and you’ll fade into irrelevance…]

[You’re already not that popular…]

Once someone started, others began chiming in. Although there were still some fans defending Xie Ran, most people did find it boring. The comment section became increasingly negative.

Just as the comments descended into a shouting match, a dazzling gift animation flashed across the screen.

A new account with the username “A Miserable Grad Student in Year 3” sent a Cat Plane—one of the gifts on the platform. It cost 200 yuan—not a small amount, but not massive either.

Right away, someone in the comment section expressed surprise and confusion:

[Someone actually sent a gift for this? Must be burning money.]

Xie Ran was a very professional businessman. He had remained unmoved no matter what people said in the comments earlier, but as a streamer, when someone sent a gift, he had to acknowledge it. So he said: “Thank you.”

He finally spoke, but the message was so brief—it didn’t even include the gift sender’s username. While there was no explicit rule that a streamer must thank gift senders by name, the general environment of livestream culture considered this basic courtesy. So many viewers felt bad for that user.

But the user who sent the gift didn’t seem to mind. They immediately sent another Cat Plane and left a message:

[Streamer, could you go back to that earlier paper about the MCTS deep algorithm and explain the thought process behind your annotations? Please please!]

The other viewers, who had been arguing furiously in the chat, suddenly stopped:

[What the heck? Asking the streamer to explain a research paper?]

[Wake up—can’t you tell the streamer is just pretending to be smart?]

[Wait… this person’s username? I get it now. Desperate times call for desperate measures?]

The comment section exploded with speculation about the user’s motives. Just then, Xie Ran had basically finished reading all the information he needed. Seeing that the user had sent two Cat Planes, he casually pulled up the paper on deep algorithms he had viewed earlier—it was in English—and it still had the annotations he’d typed moments ago.

Xie Ran asked: “This one?”

A Miserable Grad Student in Year 3: [Yes yes yes!!]

The grad student finally saw the content of the annotations clearly and was so excited he immediately sent two more gifts, then began asking questions:

[“Streamer, I’ve never seen the formula you annotated before, but the conclusion matches the goal of my current research topic. Could you please explain this formula?”]

Xie Ran didn’t keep them in suspense. After glancing at the question, he explained: “This is a search tree model, designed based on cross-section data of radiation interacting with matter…”

He spoke unhurriedly, in a casual manner, without needing to pause or think—these topics seemed completely natural and familiar to him.

Not only that, but he also casually opened a new document and began listing more detailed function models on it.

The audience, originally gearing up to mock him in the chat:

[“??????”]

[“WTF, is this an online class now…?”]

[“Is Xie Ran being serious? What’s he talking about? Why don’t I understand a single word???”]

[“I mean… Xie Ran looks so professional. I’m in love!”]

Probably the only one who understood was the grad student, who was clearly ecstatic—he kept asking more questions while enthusiastically sending flattery in the chat. With every new question, he sent another gift.

In no time, the grad student had climbed into the top 20 gift senders in the stream, showing just how satisfied he was with Xie Ran’s “online lecture.”

The viewers were completely dumbfounded.

At this point, no one was arguing anymore. Initially, everyone thought Xie Ran was just clicking around aimlessly to fill the stream time, but now they gradually realized that maybe… he wasn’t.

And that what he was doing might actually be very valuable.

…Even though they still couldn’t understand any of it.

Finally, the surreal “academic lecture by an entertainment streamer” came to a close amidst the grad student’s excited thanks.

Xie Ran checked the stream duration and saw it hadn’t yet reached the required time stated in the contract. He thought for a moment, then opened a game site: “Let’s play some Dou Dizhu.”

The original streamer’s usual content involved singing, playing guitar, and gaming. Xie Ran casually picked a game to stream.

Also… he instinctively glanced again at his phone and computer screens.

Meng Feixuan still hadn’t appeared.

Dou Dizhu was one of Meng Feixuan’s favorite forms of entertainment. Maybe while playing, his AI would suddenly show up.

Seeing that Xie Ran had started gaming, his old fans in the chat were moved to tears—finally, a stream they could understand again.

But their relief didn’t last long before question marks flooded the screen again:

[“Isn’t Xie Ran playing too fast?”]

[“He won? Again??”]

[“What’s wrong with the opponents? That’s it? That’s all they got?”]

On camera, Xie Ran’s demeanor was completely different from usual. He leaned slightly back in his chair, one elbow resting on the armrest, his hand supporting his face, while the other hand casually operated the mouse.

His posture was relaxed and composed, his face calm and expressionless—but his clicking speed was astonishing.

His card-playing speed matched his hand speed, and so did his winning streak.

He played at lightning speed—almost like a bot.

And at that speed, he still kept winning.

He also kept doubling the stakes. Before long, his in-game virtual chips—called golden beans—had skyrocketed to over one million.

Keep in mind, he had started with only around 5,000.

Now the whole stream exploded.

Plenty of streamers played Dou Dizhu, and some were quite good, but none had ever produced such a dominant performance.

Fans were now seriously posting links to promote the stream. Once he started gaming, Xie Ran’s loyal fans who’d been notified returned, and the stream’s popularity returned to its usual level.

With the new wave of hype, many new viewers joined the stream, only to be stunned as well—then they too shared the link with their friends.

Just like that, Xie Ran’s stream viewership actually surpassed its previous peak.
Even though he barely interacted with the chat, the chat was more active than ever, filled with guesses about how long his win streak would last and how many golden beans he could accumulate.

Of course, the most common messages were expressions of disbelief:

[“!!! He won AGAIN?!”]

In contrast to the excitement in Xie Ran’s stream, another livestream room was shrouded in gloom.

Ting Shuangsheng, a fellow streamer on the same platform (Big Face Cat), had a similar brand image—young, handsome, sunny personality, usually streamed gameplay with light banter and jokes. He had always viewed Xie Ran as a rival.

In Ting’s mind, his own gaming skills were far superior to Xie Ran’s. But their popularity remained neck and neck, which frustrated him. He was determined to surpass Xie Ran one day.

Tonight, Ting Shuangsheng happened to be streaming Dou Dizhu. His card-counting skills were decent, and he was on a lucky streak. He had just achieved 12 consecutive wins, and his viewer count was climbing fast.

Riding the momentum, he had his team send a flood of gifts to push his stream to the platform’s homepage, with a clickbait title:

“Challenge: 20 Dou Dizhu Wins in a Row — Lose Once, Give Away ¥1000 Cash!”

The strategy worked—his stream saw a massive traffic boost.

He kept the momentum, winning three more times to hit 15 consecutive victories, and the chat was buzzing.

At that moment, one of his opponents left the game, and a new player joined the room.

Ting’s longtime fans instantly got excited.

They recognized the username—it was none other than fellow streamer Xie Ran.

There was already tension between the two.

Ting often threw shade at Xie Ran in his streams, so his fans naturally treated Xie Ran as a rival, and often tried to stir drama in Xie Ran’s chat during platform events.

But Xie Ran had always been too chill, never responding to Ting’s petty jabs. Every time Ting tried to provoke him, it felt like punching cotton—no response, just frustration.

Ting never expected to run into Xie Ran right now. He raised an eyebrow and said, pretending to be casual:
“Well, look who it is—another Big Face Cat streamer. People always ask me who’s better at games between us… guess we’ll find out today.”

He was trying to put Xie Ran on the spot.

In his mind, he was definitely the stronger player, and tonight he was on fire—defeating Xie Ran should be a breeze.

Even if he lost a game or two, winning the majority would still prove his superiority.

And if Xie Ran quit mid-match, he could spin it as Xie Ran being a sore loser.

As expected, his fans swarmed the chat with taunts:

[“666, Brfother Shuang is unstoppable!”]

[“Crush him, Shuang! Let certain people see there’s a huge gap between real gamers and pretty-boy streamers!”]

[“No more comparing him to our Shuang, please!”]

Ting was feeling smug.

Usually, Xie Ran ignored him, but now they were face-to-face—no way Xie Ran could keep pretending to be above it all.

Ting began to say: “Guys, take it easy. Winning or losing is part of gaming—”

But before he could finish, the game screen flashed with two big characters: “Defeat.”

Xie Ran had already played all his cards.

Ting: “…?”

His expression instantly darkened.

The chat, which had just been roaring with excitement, also froze for a moment.

But that was just the beginning.

From then on, Ting Shuangsheng experienced what true domination looked like.

Xie Ran’s plays were so fast and relentless, he kept doubling every round, leaving Ting no time to think.
And he kept winning.

Dou Dizhu required three players. In their room, the third slot kept rotating—every new player got bankrupted within three rounds and rage-quit, making room for another.

Several times, Ting instinctively wanted to quit too.

But the things he had just said had boxed him in—and now it wasn’t just about beating Xie Ran, it was about saving face.

If he quit first, it’d be the same as admitting defeat. His fans would never let that go.

So even as he kept losing, he gritted his teeth, recharged golden beans, and continued playing.

By the end, he was in a daze.

Until someone in the chat yelled:

[“20-WIN STREAK! XIE RAN HIT 20 WINS!!”]

【This should have been the fastest twenty consecutive wins in the history of Dou Dizhu, right?】

【His small gold beans increased very quickly! He doubled aggressively.】

【It’s not over yet, he kept winning…】

Ting Shuangsheng suddenly snapped back to reality, looking very displeased. He had worked so hard to attract traffic to his livestream and finally raised his popularity, but he did not reach twenty consecutive wins first — it was actually Xie Ran who achieved twenty consecutive wins first.

It was a total humiliation!

Looking again, Xie Ran had already been placed by the platform on the homepage recommendation spot, with more than twice the popularity of Ting Shuangsheng.

There was no way around it, Xie Ran’s stream this time was really spectacular.

Ting Shuangsheng almost got angry enough to have his nose crooked and gritted his teeth, wanting to say something. Just then, his livestream suddenly lit up with an extremely dazzling gift effect.

The account “kx” sent Ting Shuangsheng a Cat Battleship, which was the platform’s most expensive gift, worth five thousand yuan.

And “kx” did not send just one, but consecutively sent ten.

Ting Shuangsheng was first startled, then ecstatic.

This “kx” was no one else but the top donor in Xie Ran’s livestream, and also Xie Ran’s boyfriend, Ying Kaixi.

Ying Kaixi was also one of the reasons Ting Shuangsheng regarded Xie Ran as a competitor. Before Xie Ran became popular: “kx” used to be a VIP in Ting Shuangsheng’s livestream and was very generous, always the top donor there.

Later, Xie Ran suddenly appeared, and Ying Kaixi shifted his attention to Xie Ran, never returning to Ting Shuangsheng’s livestream. Losing the top donor was a significant loss for Ting Shuangsheng.

Xie Ran, the original owner, was a very casual person and never hid anything about his love life. After he and Ying Kaixi started dating, he announced it directly on his social media account. After that, Ying Kaixi often appeared in Xie Ran’s livestream, gifting him and firmly holding the top spot on the gift leaderboard.

Moreover, Ying Kaixi had appeared on Xie Ran’s Weibo and looked quite good-looking, which attracted a group of ship fans and increased Xie Ran’s popularity.

Of course, some people secretly implied that Xie Ran was after Ying Kaixi’s money or even suspected that Xie Ran was the one subsidizing the top donor position.

Xie Ran himself did not care much, and most of his fans accepted this situation. Every time “kx” appeared in the livestream, everyone interacted happily.

No one expected Ying Kaixi to send gifts to Ting Shuangsheng at this moment, and not just one but ten Cat Battleships.

The “kx” account was very famous in both Ting Shuangsheng’s and Xie Ran’s livestreams. Although he hadn’t appeared in Ting Shuangsheng’s stream for a long time, he still ranked in the top twenty gift donors there, showing his generosity.

Therefore, Ying Kaixi’s move not only surprised Ting Shuangsheng but also stirred up the fans in both livestreams.

Especially in Xie Ran’s livestream, many people posted question marks:

【What is Brother Xi doing? Is he lost???】

【Brother Xi, come back quickly, you went to the wrong place!】

But more people realized that Ying Kaixi probably did not enter the wrong livestream. If it was a mistake, he would have at most sent one or two wrong gifts, but Ying Kaixi sent ten Cat Battleships in a row. Before sending gifts, the system would remind the user of the gift recipient, so it was impossible not to notice sending ten in a row to the wrong person, especially with so many messages reminding him.

So someone asked Xie Ran: 【What’s going on? Is Brother Xi upset with Xiao Ran?】

Others joked to ease the atmosphere: 【Xiao Ran, quickly call Brother Xi. It’s one thing to be upset, but don’t joke with Cat Battleships—they’re expensive!】

What no one dared say directly was that Xie Ran and Ting Shuangsheng were in a fierce battle. Ying Kaixi, as Xie Ran’s boyfriend, openly gifting Ting Shuangsheng was obviously meant to slap Xie Ran’s face.

Ying Kaixi indeed did it deliberately. He didn’t expect Xie Ran to actually say he wanted to break up and just walk away like that. He was furious and also endured a severe scolding from Ying’s mother.

Ying Kaixi’s family had always indulged him, he had never been so humiliated before.

Having barely escaped his mother’s wrath, Ying Kaixi still didn’t believe Xie Ran’s true intentions. He thought Xie Ran was just sulking and took out his phone to see if there was any message from Xie Ran trying to make peace.

But when he opened his phone, he received a notification from the Big Face Cat Live platform that Xie Ran was live streaming as usual and had already achieved twenty consecutive wins in Dou Dizhu, jumping onto the homepage recommendation with unprecedented popularity.

Ying Kaixi immediately flew into a rage. Coincidentally, the opponent playing with Xie Ran was a small streamer he used to like, Ting Shuangsheng.

So in his anger, Ying Kaixi spent a fortune sending ten Cat Battleships to Ting Shuangsheng, deliberately giving Xie Ran a warning.

Seeing the many questioning comments in Xie Ran’s livestream, Ying Kaixi felt very pleased. Xie Ran wanted to sulk? Then say it openly in the livestream that he wanted to break up. If he said it in front of so many people, it would be hard to take it back later.

Ying Kaixi was sure that Xie Ran wouldn’t dare say break up publicly. He thought if Xie Ran said something soft to patch things up, he would let it slide for today.

He stared tightly at Xie Ran’s livestream, trying to see a troubled expression on his face.

But Xie Ran didn’t even change his posture, still relaxed and casual. He glanced at the chat and said calmly: “It’s not sulking. It’s a breakup.”

Ying Kaixi: “…!”

Ying Kaixi was dumbfounded. Xie Ran really said it?! He actually dared to say break up publicly?!

The chat and Ying Kaixi were equally shocked, asking what happened and why it was so sudden.

Xie Ran didn’t intend to explain, only said: “That’s it.”

He said this while calmly continuing to play cards, at this point, he had already reached a twenty-three-game winning streak.

Ying Kaixi was completely furious, clicking wildly and sending twenty more battleships to Ting Shuangsheng.

Ting Shuangsheng was overjoyed. Having lost repeatedly to Xie Ran, he had felt very embarrassed. But now, Xie Ran’s boyfriend had given him thirty Cat Battleships in total.

That was a gift worth a full one hundred and fifty thousand yuan. Ting Shuangsheng had never received so many gifts at once before.

Most importantly, the focus of everyone suddenly shifted, including those who wanted to see Xie Ran fail.

Ying Kaixi was famous for being rich, good-looking, and generous. People had previously thought Xie Ran was out of his league with Ying Kaixi, and now that they had broken up, many naturally assumed Xie Ran was dumped by Ying Kaixi.

Especially with Ying Kaixi’s move clearly meant as a warning to Xie Ran.

For a while, the chats in both livestreams became chaotic. Ting Shuangsheng’s fans, who had been frustrated, felt relieved and thanked “kx” for the gifts while also going to Xie Ran’s stream to post snide comments.

【So this is failure in love, success at the casino?】

【What did the streamer do? Why did his partner run away?】

【The streamer is so arrogant, didn’t say a word, no wonder the top donor ran away.】

【Welcome everyone to Ting Shuangsheng’s livestream! Handsome, cheeky, and skilled—your top donors all got attracted there.】

【Geez, will the streamer only get the basic welfare from now on?】

The barrage of mocking comments surged wildly. The moderators couldn’t keep up with banning them all. Ying Kaixi grew even more smug, continuing to stare at Xie Ran, wanting to see when he would ask for peace.

Xie Ran glanced at the comments too. He was currently on the homepage recommendation, with even higher popularity. The moderators were obviously overwhelmed. He was thinking about writing a program to block these comments.

Just then, a large stream of dazzling special effects flashed across the livestream one after another.

Account “Mark” sent 25 Cat Battleships,

Account “Mark” sent 25 Cat Battleships,

Account “Mark” sent 25 Cat Battleships,

…

The nonstop gift effects completely flooded the entire livestream, leaving it in a daze.

No one knew how much time had passed before the effects finally stopped. Everyone hurried to open the gift leaderboard to check. Without a doubt: “Mark” had replaced “kx” as the top donor in Xie Ran’s livestream. Looking at the number following the name:

In just over ten minutes, account “Mark” had sent a total of 1,000 Cat Battleships, worth five million yuan.

This was the daily gift limit set by the Big Face Cat platform for users.

Others in the livestream doubted that if it weren’t for this limit: “Mark” would have kept sending more.

Originally proud Ying Kaixi and Ting Shuangsheng’s fans felt like they had been struck by lightning, staring at the long list of gifts in shock.

Especially Ying Kaixi, who almost lost his mind after his shock, because he saw Xie Ran, who had been silent all along, finally sit up straight with a faint joy in his eyes.

Xie Ran looked at the ID “Mark” and called out familiarly: “Mark?”

At the same time, the user named “Mark” sent a message in the most expensive special-effect font, big enough for everyone in the livestream to see:

【A hefty congratulations to the gentleman on the breakup!!!】

Other viewers: 【Pfft—】

Ying Kaixi: !!!!

What kind of manners does this person have?!