In the interstellar era, one of people’s favorite pastimes was watching live streams.
The live streaming platforms of the interstellar age were incredibly diverse, featuring everything from interstellar travel and mecha piloting to virtual idols, a dazzling array of exciting content. Among them were many unique and eye-catching broadcasts that attracted countless netizens.
Precisely because of this rich variety, interstellar residents who wanted to experience different lifestyles turned to watching live streams, making these platforms the highest-traffic sites on the entire Star Network.
That day, amid a sea of high-production streams, a dusty, utterly unremarkable broadcast went live.
It happened to be the weekend, a day off from work. An interstellar netizen with the username “Mu Qiuqiu” logged onto the Star Network as usual, entered the live streaming platform, and planned to find an interesting broadcast to watch.
She lounged comfortably on her bed, about to click on her favorite food vlogger, when a newly launched stream caught her attention: “Blue Star Renovation Live… What a corny name. What even is this?”
She racked her brain for a moment before finally dredging up a bit of information about Blue Star: “Didn’t Blue Star turn into a dead planet ages ago? Who’s trying to get attention with this? How boring.”
She glanced at the stream’s thumbnail. True to its old-fashioned name, the video quality was poor, with occasional bursts of static and noise.
“Is this streamer too broke to afford proper equipment?” she grumbled. Yet, she had to admit, the stream had successfully piqued her interest. Specifically, her interest in [1]“roasting” means to mock, make fun of, or criticize someone in a humorous or sarcastic way. It’s like when people tease or insult someone playfully, often to be entertaining or to … Continue reading jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2252673_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2252673_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });roasting someone.
Since she had nothing better to do, she clicked into the live stream, ready to mock the streamer the moment they appeared.
Around the same time, a handful of other viewers also trickled into the broadcast. Their mindset was similar to Mu Qiuqiu’s, they were all waiting for the streamer to show up so they could unleash their criticism.
Upon entering the stream, the first thing that greeted them was a vast expanse of gray, dusty land. The streamer was nowhere to be seen. Accustomed to the rich colors of the interstellar age’s mechanical wonders, the sudden assault of desolate scenery was jarring and uncomfortable.
“So they really went to a dead planet,” Mu Qiuqiu muttered as she rapidly typed out a scathing bullet comment, tearing into the stream from its name to its visuals. Just as she was about to send it, a gentle, clear voice rang out in the stream:
“Welcome to the Blue Star Renovation Live Stream. As you can see, I am currently on Blue Star. Over the next six months to a year, I will gradually restore the living environment here.”
Accompanying the voice, a hand with distinct, well-defined knuckles appeared on screen, holding a metal tool.
Holy crap. That voice. That hand…
As a hardcore voice and hand enthusiast, Mu Qiuqiu’s finger, which had been poised to send the bullet comment, instantly hesitated. She even shamelessly began to reflect: maybe the comment she was about to send was a bit too harsh.
Of course, not everyone was so easily swayed. Several bullet comments appeared in the stream, exactly the kind of remarks Mu Qiuqiu had originally wanted to make:
“lmao this is hilarious, who’s gonna click on a stream with such a lame name?”
“holy crap the streamer actually went to Blue Star? Isn’t that place a broken-down shithole? Is the streamer a stowaway interstellar refugee or something?”
“What is this ancient video quality? Not even VR tech? Trash.”
Amid the flood of venting and mockery, a few comments from serious viewers also appeared:
“Is no one noticing how nice the streamer’s hands are? So pale and slender. Also, what’s that thing he’s holding? Some kind of new weapon?”
“Renovating Blue Star, that’s a pretty ambitious goal. But do you have any idea how much time and effort it takes to renovate a dead planet? Don’t just act on a whim.”
…
Lin Yi glanced at the bullet comments. As expected, most were negative. He ignored them and replied calmly, “That’s right. The theme of this stream is renovating Blue Star. If you don’t believe me, feel free to follow the stream and keep watching. Whether I succeed or not, you’ll see the results in a few months, won’t you?”
After speaking, he checked the backend, there were already three or four new followers.
Just as he thought, people responded to a little challenge. Sure, these few were probably following just to troll him, but… the road was long. He was confident they’d change their minds in a few months.
He then picked a few meaningful questions to answer. “What is the streamer doing right now? The first step in restoring the ecosystem is, of course, farming. Crops grow quickly and are resilient, making them suitable for newly cultivated land. More importantly…” A hint of helplessness crept into Lin Yi’s voice. “If I don’t farm, I won’t have anything to eat.”
That self-deprecating remark brought a few “lmao” comments and even a few small tips: “The streamer is so pitiful, someone give the kid some money to buy food.”
Lin Yi smiled along and continued, “As for what I’m holding, this isn’t some new weapon. It’s a farming tool called a hoe.”
He handed the recording device to Ah Yun, then gripped the hoe with both hands. “The first step in farming is tilling and loosening the soil. Only when the soil is well-loosened can seeds grow better. Let me demonstrate.”
With that, Lin Yi stepped forward a bit so the camera could capture his full figure, then focused entirely on cultivating the wasteland.
Of course, to keep viewers from getting bored, he occasionally glanced back at the bullet comments as he worked, interacting with the audience while also sharing relevant knowledge: “Once the soil is leveled, we can start sowing. This plot faces the sun, making it suitable for sun-loving plants. Today, we’ll be planting corn and celery.”
He handed a handful of seeds to Ah Yun. “Come help your big brother, alright?”
“Okay, okay! Don’t worry, big brother!”
A crisp, clear voice came from behind the camera, and the live chat immediately exploded:
“Holy crap, the one holding the camera is a little girl, so cute!”
“What a well-behaved little girl. Is she the streamer’s sister?”
“Getting a kid to help? Kids don’t have much strength. How much help can she really be?”
Lin Yi glanced at the bullet comments and was about to respond when Ah Yun spoke up, already indignant: “Ah Yun is not a kid! I can help my big brother a lot!”
“Of course, big brother believes you.” Lin Yi ruffled Ah Yun’s hair, took a few seeds from her hand, and gave a quick demonstration.
Ah Yun picked it up right away. As Lin Yi loosened the soil ahead, Ah Yun followed behind, dropping seeds into the small pits Lin Yi dug with his hoe, then pushing the surrounding soil into the pits with her feet. This job didn’t require much physical exertion, but it saved a significant amount of time, perfect for Ah Yun. More importantly, it added a sense of interaction with the audience.
Ah Yun hopped and skipped behind Lin Yi as she planted, and the viewers… got to experience a first-person perspective of burying seeds, from a child’s point of view.
The image wobbled and swayed as it moved forward, pausing for a few seconds at each pit to drop seeds, then kicking the dirt in with a shaky motion, accompanied by a soft, childish voice: “One, two, three…”
“That little girl is just too cute! Following just for her.”
“Whoa, little sis, stop shaking the camera, you’re gonna make us dizzy, hahaha…”
“How is it that I’ve been watching such a boring stream for this long?”
The content of the stream didn’t seem particularly interesting, yet the viewers unanimously agreed:
What’s going on? Somehow, it’s strangely addictive…
Not many viewers left the stream. Instead, quite a few confused new viewers joined, gradually shifting from “What the heck is this?” to “Haha, this is so addictive.” By the end, the bullet comments even spontaneously started counting along with Ah Yun: “107, 108, 123, 124…”
By the time the vast stretch of wasteland had been cultivated, the sun had reached its zenith. Lin Yi glanced at the bullet comments, there were far more friendly remarks now compared to the beginning, though some viewers were still mocking and questioning him. He took the recording device from Ah Yun. “That’s all for today’s stream. Until next time, don’t miss it.”
With that, he unhesitatingly cut the stream, leaving no loose ends.
The viewers, staring at the abruptly darkened screen: That was sudden.
Although the streamer had left, the viewers in the room hadn’t scattered yet. Then, someone timidly asked, “Is anyone else like me, who watched the whole thing? It felt kind of boring, but I just couldn’t stop for some reason…”
As soon as this appeared, many viewers resonated deeply:
“Yeah, exactly! It felt like nothing special, but before I knew it, I’d been watching for two hours.”
“Dammit, it must have been because the little sister was so cute. Next time, I definitely won’t be fooled.”
…
On the other end, Lin Yi, having ended the stream, opened the backend to take a look. The live stream had garnered over five thousand views, with several dozen new followers and a tip of 20 star coins. While part of this was due to the inherently high traffic of the Star Network, it was still a respectable result for a new streamer.
Of course, he knew a large portion of the credit belonged to Ah Yun, after all, who wouldn’t love an adorable and well-behaved human cub?
In fact, many viewers in the chat hadn’t had their fill when he left. But Lin Yi understood people’s tendency to crave novelty, so he needed to leave them wanting more.
There was also another reason: the midday heat was too intense, and keeping Ah Yun outdoors put her at risk of heatstroke.
Lin Yi first called Ah Yun back inside. There wasn’t much food at home, so he simply reheated the leftover porridge from the day before and handed it to her.
As for himself, Lin Yi stepped outside and touched the dagger at his waist.
He hoped that by the time he returned, he’d be enjoying a nice serving of roasted meat.
Compared to the apocalypse era, there were far fewer mutant beasts here. Lin Yi first scouted the immediate vicinity but found nothing. So he decided to venture farther out to try his luck.
The farther he went, the denser the thorny mutated plants became. Then, he suddenly spotted a reddish-brown stain on a mutant vine.
Was this… blood?
There was likely an injured mutant beast nearby. Heartened by the discovery, Lin Yi followed the trail of blood.
The bloodstains grew more frequent ahead until, in a tangled thicket of twisted plants, he saw a black shape, seemingly an injured beast lying on the ground.
Lin Yi gripped the dagger at his waist and quietly pushed aside the plants in front of him, inching closer to the creature. As he moved, he accidentally made a faint rustling sound. Suddenly, the black shadow ahead lunged—
The next second, Lin Yi was slammed hard onto the ground, a hand clamping precisely around his throat.
He managed to lift his head and met a pair of golden eyes brimming with killing intent.
Was this a person? Lin Yi was startled. The dagger that had been about to leave its sheath was hastily withdrawn. Who knew, if he had been a second slower, the blade would have already sliced across the other’s neck.
Unable to use his dagger, Lin Yi struggled awkwardly while trying to communicate. “Relax… I mean you no harm…”
At Lin Yi’s words, the owner of the golden eyes paused briefly, the murderous intent in his gaze dimming slightly.
Then, as if suddenly reaching his limit, he collapsed without warning onto Lin Yi.
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