Chapter 96
110,357 people.
Ye Qingquan couldn’t help but rub his eyes. Then, he slowly opened them and counted again.
110,497 people.
…In just a few short seconds, the number of viewers had increased by over a hundred!
“Damn, did someone buy fake viewers for me?” Ye Qingquan’s first reaction was suspicion.
He had heard before that many influencers, and even celebrities, sometimes purchased fake viewers during live streams to avoid looking unpopular. The numbers might seem impressive, but in reality, most of them were just bots.
But he wasn’t some celebrity or internet influencer—he was just an ordinary dad!
The parenting influencer space was so competitive. His first video had been completely ignored, and while his second video had gained some traction, it hadn’t blown up to this extent.
Ye Qingquan had even doubted whether he was suited for this internet business. Lan Lan was obviously so adorable, yet his parenting account had no traction at all. He figured it must be because he wasn’t good at filming.
However… looking at the skyrocketing number of viewers, Ye Qingquan fell into deep thought.
Although his first instinct was that someone had bought fake viewers, the overwhelming wave of real-time comments told him otherwise. These 100,000+ viewers were all real people!
“Could it be that I actually have a talent for being a parenting influencer?” Ye Qingquan stroked his chin, feeling a surge of pride as he imagined his future. “Once my account takes off, I can take sponsorships, save money to buy Lan Lan a house in a top school district in Beijing, and improve our lives…”
Completely lost in his beautiful daydream, Ye Qingquan failed to notice that the comments were saying something completely different.
[…]
[This guy really thinks he’s some kind of chosen one in the parenting influencer world.]
[But you have to admit, his kid does have some kind of viral internet aura!]
[Wait, is this for real? (???) I just clicked into Zhu Yuan’s livestream, got mocked for having a low salary, watched their PR disaster unfold, exited the stream… and now I find myself here, at the very stall that stole all their customers?!]
[Just how good is this roast duck?! Zhu Yuan is selling theirs for 4,000 yuan—if this one is even better, does that mean it’s worth over 10,000 yuan? =?=]
[I heard the owner is a three-year-old kid, and the ducks are only 100 yuan each.]
[Three years old? No way. Streamer, get closer! We need to see this duck with our own eyes!]
Initially, Zhu Yuan’s livestream had been titled “A Century-Old Brand, Revitalized!”. With its sky-high roast duck prices and the massive crowds lining up, it had attracted a lot of viewers.
Most of them had tuned in out of curiosity—what kind of duck could possibly be worth thousands of yuan? They weren’t hostile at first; they were just intrigued.
But then, Old Hu made that comment: “If you think it’s too expensive, that’s your problem, not Zhu Yuan’s.”
That single line blew up the internet.
Anyone with common sense knew that if a roast duck cost 4,000 yuan, the restaurant was easily making a profit of over 3,000 yuan. It was just like luxury brands selling handbags for tens of thousands—most of the price came from brand markup, not actual value.
If Zhu Yuan had simply been upfront about targeting wealthy customers, that would’ve been fine. They could’ve just made their money without looking down on others.
But Old Hu decided to rub it in everyone’s face. Not only did he livestream, but he also mocked ordinary viewers with an arrogant, condescending attitude—causing an instant public backlash.
Just recently, another luxury brand had made headlines when a sales associate insulted customers, only for it to be exposed that their million-yuan handbags had a production cost of just 200 yuan. That controversy had barely cooled down, and now, Zhu Yuan was repeating the exact same mistake.
The hashtags #ZhuYuanMocksConsumers and #It’sAlwaysBeenThisPrice,What’sTheProblem? quickly trended on social media.
Then, people started coming forward with their own experiences:
One father had saved up for months to fulfill his daughter’s birthday wish of trying Zhu Yuan’s roast duck, only to be coldly turned away and even mocked.
A self-made entrepreneur had once questioned the price, only to be insulted by the restaurant’s manager and called a “beggar.”
The scandal reached its peak when an anonymous former apprentice of Zhu Yuan’s head chef exposed the truth.
He revealed that during his time as an apprentice, he had been overworked, abused, and treated like free labor. He even provided evidence—proving that the cost of making one of their 4,000-yuan roast ducks was actually less than 100 yuan.
The public was outraged.
Everyone knew about brand markups, but a 99% markup?! That was robbery!
[Holy sh*t, they’re charging 4,000 yuan for a duck that costs them less than 100? That’s “crying while making a fortune” level greed!]
As the controversy went viral, even more viewers flooded into Zhu Yuan’s livestream.
But no matter how angry the online audience was, they couldn’t change the fact that in real life, the stall still had a long line of customers. Old Hu, emboldened by this, became even more arrogant.
Until…
A little boy on a tricycle rode past.
Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted: “Boss Little Lan is over there!”
And just like that, the crowd in front of Zhu Yuan’s stall started thinning rapidly…
The instant karma came too fast.
It turned out, the public wasn’t blind.
Who in their right mind would spend 4,000 yuan on a duck when a better one was available for just 100 yuan?
The viewers went wild with excitement.
At the same time, their curiosity about the three-year-old boy selling roast duck next door grew even stronger.
What kind of child could set up a stall and sell roast duck all by himself? Judging by the reactions of the customers, the duck must be incredibly delicious—it had drawn everyone away in an instant!
The power of the internet was immense. Soon, someone traced back to a previous video and found the account of the blogger “My Baby is Three and a Half.” After cross-checking the IP address and comparing details, some people started to suspect—half-believing, half-doubting—that the blogger’s child was the same boy captured on camera.
That was how Ye Qingquan ended up going live, and why his livestream suddenly skyrocketed in popularity.
Most of the viewers who had initially flooded in due to Zhuyuan’s controversy were now being drawn into “My Baby is Three and a Half”’s livestream instead, pushing it straight to the top of the trending charts!
[Zhuyuan really lost everything this time—they insulted their customers and ended up handing their audience to someone else.]
[Serves them right…]
[Streamer, please show us the roast duck already! ? I’m so curious! I live nearby, and if it’s really that good, I’ll go buy some too!]
[Don’t be too naive—look at that huge line. Do you think you’ll even get a chance?]
[This is probably just a gimmick. Can a three-year-old even roast a duck properly? Just getting it cooked would be impressive.]
[+1. The kid being young and selling cheap must be the main reason people are buying. Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.]
Meanwhile, in “My Baby is Three and a Half”’s livestream, viewers kept urging Ye Qingquan to move closer and show the roast duck.
The combination of a three-year-old child and a roast duck stall was simply too unbelievable. Although many people had flooded in, just like in Ye Qingquan’s previous viral video, most remained skeptical.
Some even outright claimed that the little boy’s stall was only popular because of the gimmick—his age, plus the fact that his duck was way cheaper than the competition’s.
…After all, that explanation was far more reasonable than the absurd idea that a three-year-old had made a perfect roast duck.
Because the streamer’s camera remained still, the skeptical comments kept increasing:
[Why isn’t the streamer moving? If your kid’s roast duck is really that good, just show it! Or are you afraid to?]
Seeing these comments, Ye Qingquan finally snapped out of his daze.
Someone was actually doubting Lanlan’s cooking skills?
Ye Qingquan’s expression turned serious.
He immediately moved forward, adjusting his phone’s camera to focus on the roast duck—
A perfectly plump, glistening roast duck came into view.
The duck showed no signs of deflation, and as it had just been taken out of the oven, golden droplets of oil were still dripping down.
At that moment, the little boy skillfully lifted a freshly roasted duck from the oven and placed it on the cutting board. The customer in line requested that half be taken whole, while the other half be sliced into thin pieces.
The small child picked up a kitchen knife, and with a swift and precise motion, split the large roast duck perfectly in two. Rich, glistening juices flowed out, accompanied by a burst of hot steam.
Even through the somewhat low-resolution phone camera, the audience could clearly see the deep mahogany sheen of the duck’s crispy skin, reflecting the light. The skin was thin and crackling. Before slicing, the boy even scraped the knife’s back over the duck’s surface a few times—a signature move that sent a crisp, satisfying sound through the stream.
The meat inside was tender and juicy, with just the right balance of fat and lean layers. And that luscious, aromatic sauce dripping from the meat… it was simply mouthwatering.
For a moment, the livestream fell silent.
Then the chat exploded.
[???]
[W-wait… did he actually cook this himself?!]
[I don’t know if he roasted it, but the way he’s cutting the duck… that’s some serious skill. Did someone forget to give me my Reincarnation Soup?! (T/N: a reference to forgetting past lives in reincarnation)]
[WTF?! How is this tiny kid so good at slicing duck?! And that knife-back scraping move—ugh, I’m starving now!]
[I swear I can smell the duck through my screen ? Is that fresh duck sauce on the side? This is so professional!]
[Look at the glossy skin! That caramelized glaze is perfect—you’d need at least ten years of experience to make something this good! No wonder Zhuyuan lost all their customers. If I were there, I’d switch too! From doubting the customers to becoming one.]
Of course, there were still skeptics.
[Don’t get ahead of yourselves. You guys are way too gullible—this is obviously just another scripted social media stunt. The kid is probably professionally trained, and there’s no proof he actually roasted the duck himself.]
[Agreed. The whole livestream could be AI-generated, for all we know. AI can do anything now.]
The chat was flooded with debates—some people were drooling over the duck, some were questioning its authenticity, and some even speculated the whole thing was an AI deepfake.
But rather than slowing down, the heated discussions only boosted the stream’s popularity, drawing in more and more viewers.
Everyone’s attention was on the roast duck—analyzing the boy’s knife skills, debating the quality of the duck, arguing whether the footage was real.
…Which was why one particular comment got completely buried in the flood of messages, barely noticed by anyone.
[Is it just me, or does this boy look kind of familiar? Am I the only one seeing this?!]
[@Huo Ye]
So Huo Ye going decide his free roasted duck to be uncut to be eaten or cut in pieces to be paired up with the garnishes and broth?