Live Stream: Overly Pampered Education Creates Three Superstars in One Family

Chen Xiayu swallowed the last bite of rice, slid off the high chair, tiptoed to pick up the bowl, and trotted towards the kitchen.

She walked halfway, then turned around, walked up to Chen Chu, placed her two small hands, still covered in rice grains, on Chen Chu's knees, and looked up earnestly to say something.

"Daddy rests, girl washes the dishes!"

After she finished speaking, she reached out and pushed Chen Chu's knee, as if trying to get him off the chair. Of course, she didn't have the strength to push a grown man, but she pushed very seriously, her brows slightly furrowed, with a determination that said, "I've made up my mind about this, don't try to take it from me."

Chen Chu was amused by her mature demeanor and burst out laughing. He bent down, stretched out his hands, cupped Chen Xiayu's chubby little face, and gently rubbed it, deforming her face and squeezing her mouth into a circle, making muffled "mmm" sounds.

"How can my little girl be so capable?" Chen Chu said in an exaggerated, loving tone, his hands moving so gently it was like kneading a ball of cotton. "If Daddy left, I don't know what I would do. Our little girl is just too wonderful!"

Chen Xiayu squinted as he rubbed her eyes. When he let go, she shook her head with a little smugness on her face, turned around, and walked towards the kitchen with the bowl that was bigger than her face in her arms. She carefully stepped onto the low stool and started to turn on the tap.

Of course, it's impossible to let Chen Xiayu do it all by herself; Chen Chu isn't that shameless.

He gave Chen Ziran a look.

Chen Ziran also stood up, cleared away the remaining plates and bowls on the table, and followed his sister into the kitchen.

He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, pulled a dishcloth from the hook, and handed a wet one to his sister. The two siblings stood side by side in front of the sink, one responsible for washing the dishes the first time, and the other responsible for rinsing and drying them. They worked together perfectly.

Wang Zihao sat at the dining table, his empty bowl beside him. He didn't know whether he should follow him inside.

Logically speaking, he should be considered a guest.

No, he's not entirely a guest; he's here for an exchange, and he'll be staying here for a week.

According to the program's arrangements, he should be considered a temporary member of this family.

Should temporary staff members participate in household chores like washing dishes?

As he was struggling with his decision, Chen Ziran poked half her body out of the kitchen, holding a dishcloth covered in foam, and called out to him, "Hey, go and rest. There aren't many dishes; my sister and I can wash them."

The statement itself was perfectly fine; the tone and expression were normal, even bordering on polite and friendly. But to Wang Zihao, it took on a completely different meaning.

He really didn't want to wash the dishes; he'd never done chores like that at home before. But Chen Ziran's words suddenly annoyed him.

If you hadn't said anything, fine, but now that you've said it, if I really don't go wash it, wouldn't that make me seem lazy?

What will the comments section think of him?

Someone in the comments section will definitely say, "Look how sensible Chen Ziran is, while Wang Zihao just sits there doing nothing." He can almost see those comments floating across the screen.

The worst possibility he could think of was that Chen Ziran deliberately said that in front of the camera to embarrass him and to make himself look sensible and hardworking.

She's quite cunning.

The more he thought about it, the more reasonable he felt this reasoning was.

Although he doesn't care what others think, he absolutely cannot allow people to use him as a stepping stone.

Wang Zihao stood up, expressionless, picked up his bowl and walked into the kitchen, saying in a flat tone, "I'll wash it."

The scene became quite awkward when the three people stood side by side in front of the sink in the kitchen.

Wang Zihao stood in front of the sink, holding a plate in his hand, but his grip was clearly awkward; his hand was positioned as if he were catching a basketball. He turned on the tap and rinsed the plate, but the cold water didn't remove the grease; instead, it created a shiny film of oil on the plate's surface.

He rinsed it again, but it was still greasy. He frowned, held the plate up to his eyes to look at it, then put it back in the sink and tried to rub the oily film off with his fingers.

The grease had solidified into a slippery film on his fingertips, carrying the lingering taste of the vegetable juice.

He withdrew his hand in disgust and shook it twice.

Chen Ziran stood next to him, glanced at him, and couldn't stand it any longer: "Use dish soap."

Wang Zihao picked up the dish soap bottle, squeezed a dollop onto the plate, and then rinsed his hand under the water again. Foam did appear, but his fingers groped around the edge of the plate in the foam, his movements clumsy as if he were handling an object of that shape for the first time.

The plate slipped twice in his hand, almost flying out of his grasp. He quickly caught it with his other hand, his whole body momentarily flustered.

"You used dish soap, didn't you get your hands dirty?"

Wang Zihao frowned, looking at his foam-covered fingers, his tone carrying a hint of displeasure, as if he was very dissatisfied with the result.

Chen Ziran fell silent: "..."

【No way, you can't even wash dishes???】

[I initially thought he was faking it, but after watching for thirty seconds I realized he genuinely doesn't know how to wash.]

[How old is she? She can't even wash dishes... She's definitely spoiled.]

[Ziran is so much better! I wish Ziran were my son, then I wouldn't have to wash the dishes anymore!]

If I had a child as obedient and sensible as Ziran, marriage wouldn't be out of the question.

After washing for a while, Wang Zihao unconsciously glanced towards the living room.

Chen Chu was sitting on the sofa, a glass of iced cola on the coffee table, a fine layer of water droplets clinging to the glass. He held his phone in his hand, the screen displaying the loading screen for Honor of Kings. He had already started the game, leaning back on the sofa with his legs crossed, his expression focused intently on the phone screen.

Wang Zihao scoffed inwardly. He had expected Chen Chu to come over and help, or at least offer some advice and ask if he could adapt. After all, Chen Chu was the model parent praised to the skies on the show; surely she should show some warmth and care?

But Chen Chu showed no intention of taking it over.

He was completely absorbed in Honor of Kings, his fingers flying across the screen as he muttered to himself. It was too far away to hear clearly, but he didn't seem to care about the battle in the kitchen at all.

"Dad!" Chen Ziran poked his head out of the kitchen and called out towards the living room, "Aren't you just asking for trouble by playing alone without me? We finally made it to Diamond rank these past few days, you definitely can't beat the other team by yourself."

Chen Chu didn't even look up, his tone completely calm: "It's alright, so what if we lose?"

Chen Ziran sensed something was amiss. He knew his father all too well; when it came to games, Chen Chu's competitive spirit was stronger than anyone else's.

When I used to duo queue with Chen Chu, after losing a game, Chen Chu would spend the whole night reviewing the game, analyzing every mistake, and then dragging me into another game.

This nonchalant attitude of "if I lose, I lose" is completely unlike him.

Chen Ziran narrowed her eyes, staring at him with a scrutinizing gaze: "Aren't you the one who cares most about rank?"

Chen Chu still didn't look up, his tone remaining calm: "It's nothing, it's your number."

Chen Ziran's face flushed red instantly: "My account?! You used my account to play ranked matches, and you don't care about losing my rank!!! Go ahead and play with your own account if you dare!!!"

Chen Chu finally raised his head, glanced at him, smiled, and then lowered his head again to continue playing his game.

The phone rang. Chen Chu was waiting to be resurrected in the fountain. He glanced at the caller ID, Li Minghui, but his eyes remained fixed on the phone screen.

"Chen Chu..." Li Minghui's voice came through the receiver, with a businesslike tone, "Just letting you know that Wang Wenwu will be downstairs at your place soon to pick up Ziran. Don't keep him waiting too long, get ready and have the child come down."

Chen Chu paused for a moment, then put down his phone and sat up straight. He called out towards the kitchen, "Ziran, get ready, your Uncle Wang will be downstairs soon to pick you up."

Chen Ziran came out of the kitchen, wiped her hands with her apron, and looked calm, as if she had expected this moment: "I know, the luggage was packed a long time ago and is at the bottom of the stairs."

His tone sounded relaxed, but his gaze inadvertently swept across every corner of the living room.

He took it all in, then lowered his head and picked up the black suitcase that had been prepared at the bottom of the stairs.

Wang Zihao stood at the kitchen doorway, and upon hearing this, his brow furrowed slightly. He didn't speak, but his washing of the dishes noticeably slowed down.

About ten minutes later, I heard the sound of a car engine shutting off downstairs.

Chen Chu walked to the balcony, glanced down, then turned to Wang Zihao and asked casually, "Want to go down and see your dad? We can go down together; he's downstairs too."

Wang Zihao stood at the kitchen doorway, his body stiffening for a moment, before he almost immediately gave his answer, his tone stiff, as if he had prepared this question beforehand: "I'm not going."

He paused, lowered his voice, and said calmly, "My relationship with him isn't that good."

Chen Ziran had already pulled his suitcase to the entrance, changed his shoes, straightened up, and turned to look at Chen Chu. He moved his lips and said, "Dad, I'm going downstairs."

Chen Chu stood in the living room, hands behind his back, and nodded. After responding, he stood still, making no attempt to help with the luggage or see him out.

Chen Ziran stood in the entryway and waited for three seconds to confirm that Chen Chu really didn't intend to move.

He couldn't help but turn around: "Wait, aren't you going to see me off?"

Chen Chu stood still, his hands still behind his back: "What else? Your old man's arms and legs are too strong for me to help you carry your luggage. Don't you have hands of your own?"

"Don't let the scenery trigger your emotions, okay?"

Chen Ziran took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, deciding to give up arguing with his father about this issue. He picked up the handle of his suitcase, pushed open the door, and walked downstairs.

Despite saying that, Chen Chu still followed Chen Ziran downstairs.

He could tell that the kid was reluctant to leave home, but refusing was out of the question. He could only wait for the kid to come home and make it up to him.

Let's give Ziran a gift...

As I stepped out of the building, a black sedan was parked under the streetlights, its paint gleaming cleanly in the lamplight.

A middle-aged man leaned against the car door, arms crossed, looking down at his phone. He looked up when he heard the stairwell door open.

A man of slightly fuller build but not at all bulky. He wore a dark gray polo shirt tucked into dark casual trousers, with a high-quality belt around his waist. His hair was neatly combed, and while his facial features weren't sharply defined, he possessed a dignified and mature air, like someone who had spent most of his life navigating the corporate world and had learned how to control his emotions and demeanor. This was Wang Zihao's father, Wang Wenwu.

He looked up and saw Chen Ziran walking out of the stairwell. The boy was a little taller than he had imagined, wearing a clean white short-sleeved shirt and dragging a black suitcase. The boy stood under the streetlight, looking at him calmly, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, without the nervousness or evasiveness one might expect when meeting an elder.

Chen Ziran stepped forward and stopped about two steps away from Wang Wenwu. He gave a polite smile, extended his hand, and said in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, with just the right amount of humility and arrogance, "Hello, are you Uncle Wang? I'm Chen Ziran, and I'm here to stay with you."