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

Zhao Shuilan stared at the line of text on the screen, "You can only leave after you kowtow, right?" She was so angry that she clenched her teeth.

What does it mean that you have to kowtow before you can leave?

She was clearly talking about basic manners. The elderly were still eating at the table, and the younger generation finished eating and left without even saying "enjoy your meal." In her mind, this was a lack of manners.

Isn't it only natural to respect parents and elders?

She placed the water bottle on the table with a soft "thump".

"Isn't it only natural to respect parents and the elderly?"

Zhao Shuilan spoke, her tone shifting from calm analysis to a more impassioned one, each word like a flame handed to her, which she then ignited.

"This has nothing to do with whether or not you kowtow. I'm talking about a very basic matter of manners! The elderly person is still at the table, and you finish eating and leave. How do you expect the elderly person to feel? What if they can't finish eating? What if they're left alone at the table? Your generation is just too self-centered. You finish eating and leave, doing whatever you want. You have no respect for your elders and no sense of propriety!"

She became more and more agitated as she spoke, her eyes fixed on the barrage of comments on the screen, as if those rapidly scrolling words were the enemies she was fighting against, and she would never retreat a single step on this battlefield.

"There are too many people who lack filial piety nowadays; the traditional moral order has collapsed!"

She raised her voice, her emotions almost overflowing.

The comments section exploded as if a bucket of boiling oil had been poured over it.

[Even eating a meal requires so much fuss. Zhao, you might as well write a new edition of the Twenty-Four Filial Exemplars and publish a book; I'll buy a copy to use as a table leg.]

[Zhao Shuilan's fighting ability is impressive. She single-handedly took on the entire barrage of comments without flinching. Her mental fortitude is a hundred times stronger than mine. I break down the moment someone insults me.]

"The collapse of etiquette and music"—that's hilarious! Elevating a simple meal to the level of a collapse of etiquette and music? Then wouldn't forgetting to wash your hands after using the toilet cause chaos throughout the world?!

[Expert Zhao, cheer up! You're a parenting expert, not someone who traveled from ancient times!]

[Can you guys please stop criticizing? I think what Expert Zhao said makes sense, but she exaggerated it too much; it just sounds ridiculous.]

In the observation room, Zhou Zhenyang sat next to Zhao Shuilan, leaning back slightly, as if he were sitting in the front row of a movie theater watching an action movie he didn't really want to see but had to. He was somewhat dazed.

Zhao Shuilan's debate with the scholars was like a machine turned up to its maximum power. The barrage of comments came flooding in, and she retorted one by one, refusing to suffer any loss.

Zhou Zhenyang silently moved his chair back a few centimeters, drawing a safety line in his mind. He decided it was best not to have a direct conflict with Zhao Shuilan on the show in the future.

He really couldn't withstand that firepower.

Li Minghui sat behind the control room, holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold. He didn't really like cold coffee, but at that moment he didn't bother to ask his assistant to get him a hot one. All his attention was focused on the large screens in front of him.

The left-hand screen displays real-time data for the live stream. The number of viewers is steadily increasing, and the density of comments has remained in the red zone ever since Zhao Shuilan started her passionate commentary.

Let's start arguing.

The more heated the argument, the faster it trends on social media.

His gaze shifted from the data screen to the image of another family, Xu Danian's home.

When Li Minghui saw that scene, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up, and he laughed in exasperation.

He shook his head.

This Xu Danian really doesn't want to suffer even the slightest loss.

Wu Zixi had barely arrived at their house, and before she could even sit down, they had already set up all the equipment—fill lights, phone holders, and product samples—and pulled her right in front of the camera to start selling their products.

Having worked in this line of work for so many years, Li Minghui has seen all sorts of human relationships and social dynamics, but Xu Danian's blatant shrewdness and resourcefulness still made him find it a little funny.

To be honest, he didn't dislike Xu Danian that much.

It's good for everyone to talk about money; otherwise, it's too vulgar. While spouting idealistic rhetoric might get the audience excited, ultimately, what motivates a team to work more diligently is tangible financial reward.

Therefore, when Li Minghui saw Xu Danian's behavior of skirting the line and making money through the show, he didn't feel any disgust. Instead, he had a kind of "okay, you're quite talented" kind of acknowledgment. He didn't intend to interfere; as long as he didn't cross the line, he would pretend he didn't see it.

His gaze shifted to the picture of Wang Wenwu's house.

Chen Ziran had already returned to his room. There wasn't much to say about the scene inside; he was changing into his pajamas. The director, being very professional, had the technicians switch the camera angles in the room while he was changing, keeping only the sound.

When the screen switched back, Chen Ziran was already lying in bed, the bedside lamp casting a warm yellow glow. He wasn't asleep; he was leaning against the headboard, staring blankly at his phone screen. The screen displayed a bank transfer notification, the amount clearly visible: 15,000 yuan. The sender's note was simply: "Pocket Money." He stared at the number for a while, then returned to the message list and reopened the transfer message to make sure he hadn't miscounted the decimal point.

Wang Wenwu had just called him into the study, took out an envelope from the desk drawer, and then, feeling that paying in cash was inconvenient, asked him to bring up the QR code for receiving payments. He then scanned 15,000 yuan and transferred it to him on the spot.

"This is your allowance for this month. If it's not enough, just ask your uncle."

Wang Wenwu said this in a very calm tone, as if he were stating something perfectly normal, as if giving a fifteen-year-old a month's allowance of 15,000 yuan was no different from pouring him a glass of water.

Chen Ziran paused for a second, then calmly thanked him.

But now, lying in bed and looking at that text message, he finally had time to let the emotions in his heart slowly surface.

Goodness... He knew the Wang family was rich, but this level of wealth was still a bit overwhelming for him.

With 15,000 yuan in pocket money a month, he thought about his own monthly allowance of 700 or 800 yuan, and then about Wang Zihao's monthly allowance of tens of thousands of yuan. Suddenly, he felt that this world was really magical.

He didn't know what Wang Zihao would do with the money, but his first thought was: he couldn't waste this money.

He put his phone on the bedside table, stared at the ceiling for a while, and then silently planned in his mind his plans to pick up his sister and the specific expenses he would need.

In the observation room, the screen in front of Li Minghui switched to the scene of Chen Ziran receiving the transfer.

He saw the bank's notification that the transfer had been completed, leaned back, and couldn't help but sigh.

Chen Ziran's first day at the Wang family's house didn't really have any dramatic moments. There were no arguments, no crying, and none of the dramatic conflicts that variety shows love to have.

After finishing his meal, the child went back to his room. After politely exchanging pleasantries, he quietly disappeared into the room, like a pebble dropped into water, sinking to the bottom without making a splash. But Li Minghui wasn't in a hurry.

The show lasts seven days, not just one. The calmer the surface of the water on the first day, the more exciting the undercurrents are often.

He had high hopes for Chen Ziran, who possessed a quality that other contestants lacked: he simply didn't care about the camera.

A person who doesn't care about the camera is often more likely to succeed in the end than someone who is constantly staring at the camera.

To put it simply, Chen Ziran doesn't have that kind of desire. All his actions come from his heart, just like Chen Chu. He thinks he's acting, but he really thinks that way. You think he's praising you for being sarcastic, but he's actually genuinely praising you and believes it in his heart. This kind of person, if he doesn't do anything, he's fine, but if he does, he'll definitely do something amazing.