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

When the game went on until 2 a.m., Yang Xunran's room was quiet except for the sound of keyboards, game sound effects from headphones, the breathing of the three people, and occasional laughter.

In Yang Xun's storyline, Qian Yan actually knew he hadn't slept. Her room was just across the corridor, and the light shining through the crack in the door stayed on until late at night.

She got up to use the restroom once, and as she passed Yang Xunran's room, she heard hushed laughter coming from inside. She stopped, stood at the door for a few seconds, listened, then turned and went back to her own room without knocking or pushing the door open.

In the past, she would have pushed open the door, frowned, and said, "What time is it? Why aren't you asleep yet?" But not today. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the family photo on the bedside table. In the photo, Yang Lei had his arm around her shoulder, and Yang Xunran stood in front of him, grinning carefree.

She felt that her son hadn't laughed so happily in a long time. Homework, tutoring classes, exams, rankings—these things were like mountains weighing on him and on the family. Ripples spread across a pond in her heart.

Perhaps I really shouldn't be so strict with myself.

He's grown up; he has his own friends and his own world.

Parents can't keep their children tied to their belts forever. Thinking this, Qian Yan turned off the light and lay down. She didn't knock on Yang Xunran's door again.

Yang Xunran's voice rang out again through the earphones, half-joking and half-serious: "Brother Chen, I'm really curious. How come you and Ziran are so close? I can't get along with my dad. We start arguing after just three sentences. He doesn't like me, and I don't like him either. If we're in the same room for more than half an hour, the air gets tense."

Chen Chu chuckled softly on the other end of the voice call, not answering directly, but instead asking, "So, do you and your dad usually communicate? I mean, besides things like 'Time to eat,' 'Have you finished your homework?' and 'Stop playing on your phone,' have you ever sat down and had a proper conversation?"

Yang Xunran was silent for a moment. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the dim corner of the ceiling. After thinking for a long time, he honestly answered, "No."

"That's right." Chen Chu's voice was calm, without any lecturing tone, as if he were discussing something perfectly ordinary. "Without communication, how can your feelings be conveyed? You don't speak, he doesn't ask. He doesn't speak, you don't ask. The two of you live under the same roof, yet it's like there's a wall between you. If you want him to understand you, you have to let him know what you're thinking first, right?"

Yang Xunran paused, his hand holding the mouse still. He blinked, as if a window that hadn't been opened in a long time had suddenly been pushed open a crack.

A ray of light shone through the crack; it wasn't very bright, but it was enough for him to see things he hadn't noticed before.

"Oh right!" His voice held a belated realization. "If I don't tell my dad, how will he know what I'm thinking? I always feel like he doesn't understand me, but I don't think I've ever given him a chance to understand me..."

"That's right." Chen Chu's voice carried a sense of satisfaction, as if he thought the child was teachable. "You told your father, and that's how he found out. Whether it's a father or a son, if you want to communicate, you have to take the initiative. If you wait for him to understand you, and he waits for you to be considerate of him, in the end, you'll both become isolated islands."

Yang Xunran nodded vigorously, as if trying to ingrain this principle into his very bones: "Brother Chen, I understand!"

Chen Chu chuckled, but instead of replying, he demonstrated it to him directly in the game.

He turned on the in-game voice chat and said to his random teammates in a very natural tone, "Bro, can I have that Ocean Heart? I'll collect them all if I get it again."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a gruff voice rang out: "If you won't give it to me, I'll pay for it myself."

Chen Chu didn't give up. He continued chatting, his tone lacking the commanding air of "you must give it to me," but rather carrying the casual ease of friendly conversation, "I've been playing all night and haven't found a Heart of the Ocean. You must have gotten yours from an airdrop, right? You're really lucky. I've always been unlucky; I never find anything good in games..."

He even casually mentioned the current situation, saying, "That sniper on the other side is pretty good; your counter-shot just now was brilliant..."

As they chatted, the teammate's voice, which had initially sounded impatient, gradually softened. About three minutes into the game, the teammate suddenly said something.

"Alright, alright, here you go, take it. Stop nagging."

Chen Chu took the equipment and said sincerely, "Thanks, brother."

His teammate was a little embarrassed by his "thanks," and his voice became more naive: "It's nothing, it's just a game."

Chen Chu turned off the voice chat, turned around, and said to Yang Xunran on the other end of the headset, "See? Communication. That's it."

Yang Xunran stared, mouth agape, bewildered but deeply shocked. He remained silent for several seconds before slowly saying, "So, as long as I communicate like you, Brother Chen, my dad can understand me?"

"Communication is the foundation of everything." Chen Chu's voice carried the certainty of someone with experience. "Without communication, it's like being mute. Would you rather have a wall or a door separating you from your father?"

"Door!"

Yang Xunran answered without hesitation. His voice carried the excitement and solemnity of someone who had just discovered something precious, "I understand, Brother Chen. I really understand."

Chen Chu nodded.

The wall can only be smashed down, but the door can be pried open!

That night, the three of them played many games. Sometimes they won, sometimes they lost.

When they won, the three of them laughed heartily in voice chat; when they lost, they blamed each other, and then continued in the next game. Chen Chu and Chen Ziran would occasionally bicker, for example, if Chen Chu stole a kill from Chen Ziran, Chen Ziran would shout, "Dad, were you doing this on purpose?" Chen Chu would reply, "Your dad helped you out, otherwise the person behind you would have stolen it."

Amidst this bickering in the background, Yang Xunran played his game while marveling at how fathers and sons could talk like this.

Around 4 a.m., the three of them finally logged off.

Yang Xunran turned off the computer, and the room suddenly became quiet.

He didn't go to bed immediately. Instead, he sat in a chair, looking at the sky outside the window, his mind replaying Chen Chu's words.

communicate with.

initiative.

Not communicating is like being mute.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized it made sense, and the more he felt that he had indeed made mistakes in the past. He was always waiting for his father to ask him questions and understand him, but he never took the initiative to tell his father a single word from the bottom of his heart.

He lay in bed, tossing and turning for a long time, his mind a jumble of thoughts, thinking about tomorrow—no, it should be said today—and what he would do when his father came home from get off work at noon.

As he drifted off to sleep, his voice gradually faded, his breathing became steady and long, and he finally fell into a deep sleep.

At noon, Yang Lei went home for lunch after get off work.

He changed into slippers, put his briefcase on the cabinet in the entryway, and walked into the living room. He saw Yang Xunran sitting at the dining table with a bowl of rice in front of him. He hadn't touched it much, as if he was waiting for him.

Yang Lei didn't think much of it, pulled out a chair, sat down, picked up his chopsticks, and started eating.

The atmosphere at the dinner table was the same as usual, quiet yet subtly tense, like a string that had been stretched taut for a long time.

Yang Xunran put down his chopsticks and took a deep breath. He remembered what Chen Chu had said last night, and how his teammate in the game had given up his equipment after exchanging a few words with Chen Chu.

If I explain it properly, my father should understand, right?

"Dad!" he said, his voice a little nervous, but he tried to sound natural. "I want to talk to you about something."

Yang Lei paused, his hand still holding the food, and looked up at him. "What is it?"

"I'd like to buy a few game skins."

Yang Xunran tried to make his tone sound relaxed, as if he were talking about something very ordinary, "It's not very expensive, just a few hundred yuan. I saw that my classmates all have them..."

???

Yang Lei put down his chopsticks.

He looked at Yang Xunran with a "Are you kidding me?" look and remained silent for about three seconds.

Then his hand very naturally reached for his waist.

The movements were unhurried and even leisurely.

Yang Xunran's pupils dilated in an instant.

He sprang up from the chair almost reflexively, the chair legs scraping the floor with a screeching sound, and stumbled back several steps until he reached the wall.

"Dad, what are you doing?!"

Yang Lei had already pulled the belt out of his waistband. He folded the belt in half, held it in his hand, and felt its toughness and elasticity with his palm before looking up at Yang Xunran.

His expression was calm, and his tone was calm, but there was a chilling certainty in that calmness: "Come here."

"No!" Yang Xunran's voice rose several octaves, his entire body almost pressed against the wall like a cat cornered. "Dad, calm down! Let's talk this out! We need to communicate!"

"You have to trust me." Yang Lei stood still, but the belt in his hand trembled slightly in the air.

The sound wasn't loud, but in the quiet living room, it was like a thunderclap to Yang Xunran's ears.

"No!" A hint of despair crept into Yang Xunran's voice. His mind raced. Communication? What happened to the promised communication? Didn't Brother Chen say communication was the foundation of everything? Why was he going to whip me with a belt after I communicated? This script isn't right!

Yang Lei looked at him and said, "You were the one who distrusted me first, so I'm not giving you the money."

Yang Xunran pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding like a drum.

His brain was working at a speed he had never seen before.

He was assessing a very serious problem.

Should he go or not?

What are the chances of the belt hitting me if I go back? If I don't go, will my father chase after me? If he does, can I escape? If I run away and come back, will I be beaten even more severely?

His gaze darted back and forth between the belt in his father's hand and his father's expressionless face.

The living room was quiet for a moment, with only the food on the dining table still emitting faint steam.

Yang Lei didn't speak or move. He just stood there, holding the folded leather belt, looking calmly at Yang Xunran.

"Come here and I'll buy you the skin!"

Yang Xunran pressed himself against the wall, beads of sweat sliding down his temples. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening.

Should he go over there or not?

"Perhaps my father is a man of integrity?"