Conquering the Stars and My Haters’ Hearts - Chapter 19

This was the fastest method Xie Anning could devise to complete his mission after hearing the System’s prompt. Forcing Jin Xinheng to call him “Daddy” was a bit of a wicked indulgence, but it was guaranteed to provoke the kind of intense emotional response from the audience needed to smash his mission targets.

Opportunities like this didn’t come twice. As for offending Jin Xinheng, the bridge had already been burned the moment the man challenged him. Offending him a bit more didn’t matter now; after all, Jin Xinheng had no way of discovering his true identity.

“You!” Jin Xinheng glared at him, his fists clenched so tightly they trembled. He wanted nothing more than to charge forward and beat Xie Anning within an inch of his life. In all his years, he had never suffered such a humiliation. Even against Ferdinand, his only frustration was being ranked second in strength; he had never been belittled like this.

“If Young Master Jin doesn’t want to go through with it, that’s fine,” Xie Anning said nonchalantly. “It was just a verbal agreement, after all.”

“I said I’d do it, and I will! I play for keeps,” Jin Xinheng gritted out, his heart heavy with a suffocating sense of grievance. His fury was nearly at its breaking point, but he knew that if he backed out of his own wager, he would become a laughingstock for the rest of his life.

He swore a silent oath: he would make “Call Me Daddy” pay. If he didn’t break this brat and dump him in a corner of the Empire’s border to mine ore for eternity, he wouldn’t be a Jin!

This entire exchange was not only witnessed by the live audience but was also being broadcast to the outside world, seen by an untold number of viewers.

Jin Xinheng’s subordinates were paralyzed with shock. They never imagined things would escalate like this. Should they kill the stream? If this continued, their boss was actually going to call someone “Daddy” on camera!

However, the punishment for disobeying Jin Xinheng was usually terrifying, and none of them dared to stop the broadcast without orders. One subordinate frantically messaged him: “Young Master Jin, do we, do we keep the stream running?”

“Don’t bother me!” Jin Xinheng was at his limit, beyond the point of listening to reason. He snapped back coldly without a second thought: “I’m in no mood for this right now!”

The subordinates shut their mouths in terror. Having been snapped at, they were even more afraid to close the stream. They were internally reeling—they never knew Jin Xinheng was this hardcore. Is he really insisting on broadcasting this even now?

Have we misunderstood him all these years? Is Young Master Jin a closet masochist?

Without that interpretation, they couldn’t fathom why he would make such a move.

And so, the stream that should have ended continued, attracting more and more viewers.

“Holy crap, did you hear? Jin Xinheng is about to call a rookie streamer ‘Daddy’!”

“My god, seriously?!”

“Who would’ve thought Jin Xinheng would have a day like this.”

The word spread like wildfire as people invited their friends to watch. The viewer count skyrocketed. Meanwhile, many of Jin Xinheng’s fans felt their idol’s image crumbling into dust.

Inside the arena, Jin Xinheng gritted his teeth, staring at the clunky, “low-rent” mech before him as if to sear this moment of shame into his soul. In his mind, Xie Anning and that mech had already died ten thousand deaths.

It’s just an ID, he told himself. It doesn’t mean anything.

After an agonizing silence, he finally forced out the word: “Daddy.”

Immediately after, Xie Anning reached out with his mech’s arm and patted the head of Jin Xinheng’s mech.

Jin Xinheng’s eyes turned bloodshot. “You.”

Xie Anning: “Ah, that was an accident.” He swore, he really hadn’t meant to do that.

For a moment, the world went silent. The fans in the arena were stunned into a collective hush. The situation had surpassed all logic. Jin Xinheng, who was supposed to crush “Call Me Daddy,” had not only lost in a bizarre fashion but was now forced to call him “Daddy” in public. And then “Daddy” had actually patted his head like they were a real father and son!

How were they supposed to react to this?

In contrast, Xie Anning’s fans were erupting in cheers. They hadn’t expected such a legendary outcome; they truly hadn’t backed the wrong horse!

Beyond the arena, the online viewers were flooding the stream with tips.

“Wtf, this streamer is legendary! First time seeing Jin Xinheng get handled like this!”

“I’m tipping just for the sheer balls on this guy! Hope he’s still alive tomorrow.”

“Nonsense. A streamer with the courage to do this clearly has a powerful background. He wouldn’t be a fool otherwise, right?”

“If I call the streamer ‘Daddy’ too, does that make me Jin Xinheng’s brother?”

At Ferdinand’s residence, the servants were on edge. Their young master had been wearing a frigid expression all day, and they didn’t dare make a sound for fear of triggering his temper.

The screen was playing the match between “Call Me Daddy” and Jin Xinheng. The servants figured Ferdinand disliked both of them, so shouldn’t he be enjoying the dog-eat-dog chaos? Why the strange reaction?

Only the subordinate who had cared for Ferdinand in the hospital knew the truth, their master’s feelings for this “Call Me Daddy” were anything but ordinary. But that was a secret better left untold.

Within ten minutes of the match ending, Ferdinand’s expression had visibly softened. The gaze he directed at the screen actually carried a hint of doting? Doting?

The servants were horrified by their own realization.

Impossible! How could our master feel ‘doting’ toward those two? Even if “Call Me Daddy” saved him once, Ferdinand isn’t the type to fall for someone just because of a rescue! A man as proud as him should feel insulted!

And more importantly, “Call Me Daddy” is still just a pixelated blur on the screen!

The deepest silence, however, was at the Imperial First Military Academy. The students stared at the giant screen in the hall, feeling as though they were watching a fever dream.

These were Jin Xinheng’s juniors. They had gathered to watch a high-level battle to learn some tactics, but they happened upon his livestream and decided to broadcast it for the group. Jin Xinheng was a jerk, but his mech skills were undeniable, and his ruthless tactics were worth studying.

As for his opponent, none of them had given him a second thought. As students of the Imperial First Military Academy, they were all geniuses in their own right; they didn’t care about a “petty streamer.” They couldn’t even understand why Jin Xinheng would stoop to challenging such a person—it was beneath his status.

But the “one-sided beatdown” they expected never came. Instead, the “legendary” Jin Xinheng failed repeatedly, making rookie mistakes like a primary schooler, only to lose in the most embarrassing fashion imaginable.

The hall fell into a heavy silence. Even with their talent, they couldn’t tell if the opponent was truly a god-tier master or just incredibly lucky. Regardless, anyone who could beat Jin Xinheng like that was a talent, though he was likely doomed now.

Suddenly, a low chuckle echoed from behind them. The students jumped—who would dare laugh at Jin Xinheng? He was the Crown Prince’s cousin!

They turned to see a tall, strikingly handsome young man approaching, flanked by several subordinates. He had long, pale-gold hair tied back and emerald eyes shimmering with a faint smile. In his military uniform, his silhouette was long and elegant. Though he looked gentle, he carried an air of distant authority that commanded fear even from a distance.

“Your Highness.” The students turned pale. They hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to be here, let alone to have witnessed the stream. They bowed hurriedly.

The Prince didn’t look at them; his eyes were fixed on the screen, full of intrigue.

“What an interesting person,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

In the outside world, internet users were frantically searching for the identity of “Call Me Daddy.” The name shot to the top of the trending lists.

There were no official news reports—everyone knew Jin Xinheng was a direct descendant of the Jin family. No news outlet had the guts to publish gossip about such a powerful clan.

Xie Anning’s social media followers exploded, hitting the ten-million mark instantly.

People dug up his earlier, arrogant post claiming he would defeat Jin Xinheng. Previously, everyone thought it was a joke; a nameless streamer challenging a master like Jin? Who gave him the courage? Many had vowed to “cross-dress” or do other stunts if he didn’t lose.

Now, those people had vanished into the shadows. When the public looked at the post again, they no longer saw arrogance—they saw the confidence of a true master.

Of course! This is the aura of a powerhouse. Why would a man like him ever expect to lose?

Someone found the video of him defeating Ferdinand and was amazed by his growth rate and his “noble character” for saving his opponent.

Xie Anning’s persona had conquered the masses. Even though he had never shown his face, his “personality” was enough. He gained millions of fans in an instant. This was a world that worshipped the strong. Even though he had made Jin Xinheng call him “Daddy,” no one felt he was being excessive—Jin Xinheng had intended to turn his opponent into a vegetable, which was far more cruel.

His old fans were the most shocked. They knew he was good, but they thought he just had “potential.” Suddenly, he had demolished Jin Xinheng?

While the process seemed a bit “lucky” and comical, most experts were convinced it was a high-level battle of mental power that went over the heads of the general public.

Occasionally, someone on the forums would suggest Jin Xinheng had simply “slipped,” but they were immediately dogpiled by fans. They argued that even if Master Jin lost, he lost honorably in a battle of skills—not because he didn’t know how to walk!

In the fan group, Autumn Waters was preaching with fervor: “I told you! Our ‘Daddy’ would never lose to a despicable person like Jin Xinheng. Daddy’s rank might be low, but that’s just because he hasn’t had the chance to show off. Now that he has, who can even stand in his way?”

His followers, who once thought Autumn Waters was too much of a “stan,” now worshipped him as a prophet.

Xie Anning himself felt like he was dreaming.

Not only had he completed the “Newbie Mission” goal of one million Popularity Points, but he had also directly received sixty million points.

He was stunned by this “overnight billionaire” feeling. After a quick search on the virtual net, he realized what had happened.

The entire match had been broadcasted to the masses—the “Water of Misfortune” had worked its magic perfectly. Xie Anning sighed in relief; thank god no one could use that potion on him. It was a total game-breaker. He decided he needed to stock up on more bottles.

[System: Congratulations, Host, for completing the Newbie Mission. You have received the Newbie Gift Pack and three inventory slots.]

[System: Mission complete. The System has automatically upgraded to the Official Version. New features unlocked: Random Popularity Missions (triggered randomly with various rewards) and the 10-Roll Gacha feature.]

Curious, Xie Anning opened the System’s virtual interface. The entire display looked significantly more sophisticated than before. His inventory had expanded to four slots, and the sight of the tens of millions of Popularity Points displayed at the bottom was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“Open the Newbie Gift Pack,” Xie Anning commanded. He had been dying to know what was inside.

With a flash of light, several items appeared before him: 10 additional inventory slots, 2x Constitution Enhancement Potion (Grade 2), Potion of Luck, and Basic Mech Knowledge.

Xie Anning was genuinely floored. After the System’s previous stinginess handing out only one or two slots at a time, getting fourteen slots at once was a massive upgrade, enough to store a vast array of tools. As for the Grade 2 Constitution Enhancement Potion, its value was immediately obvious.

He had previously spent 500,000 points to buy another Grade 1 potion, only to find that it barely moved the needle on his stats. The System explained that as his physical build improved, the energy required for further upgrades increased exponentially; thus, Grade 1 potions had reached their point of diminishing returns for him.

The Potion of Luck was the polar opposite of the Water of Misfortune. Having witnessed the terrifying effects of the latter, Xie Anning felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of having luck on his side. Finally, the Basic Mech Knowledge was the ultimate “charity in a snowstorm”—a perfect addition to a beginner’s kit.

He checked the System Mall and found that the items he’d recently unlocked through the gacha were now available for direct purchase. However, the Water of Misfortune cost one million points per bottle, and the Potion of Luck was even steeper at two million.

“Incredible.” Xie Anning couldn’t help but feel he’d been incredibly “lucky” before. If he’d had to buy those at the start, he would have gone bankrupt instantly. The Grade 2 Constitution Enhancement Potion was also priced at two million points a bottle.

Fortunately, Xie Anning now had enough points to be a bit extravagant.

When he navigated to the Gacha page, he noticed a new addition. Beside the original, dim silver halo, there was now a brilliant golden one.

Xie Anning: “…” This feels exactly like the ‘Gold Pool’ versus ‘Diamond Pool’ in those mobile games back home.

[System: A single Silver Draw costs 100,000 points. A single Golden Draw is 1,000,000 points. However, a 10-roll costs only 9,000,000 points—a total bargain!]

Xie Anning’s heart twitched at the mention of nine million points. “Are the rewards from the gold pool significantly better?”

[System: The Silver Pool primarily drops Grade 1 attribute items and rarely yields rare treasures. The Gold Pool drops Grade 2 or even Grade 3 items. It also offers a chance to pull Skill Books, Instant Teleportation charges, ‘Invincible Vajra’ shields, ‘Love at First Sight’ potions, and ‘Potion of Aversion.’ Furthermore, every 10-roll guarantees a Healing Potion, the grade of which matches the pool.]

Xie Anning: “…” This is literally the same ‘pay-to-win’ business model from before I crossed over! Still, the descriptions were tantalizing; it was almost impossible to suppress the urge to pull a 10-roll.

Exercising some self-control, he started by purchasing several bottles of Misfortune and Stamina Recovery potions. Since identical items could be stacked in one slot, he spent about ten million points stocking up.

Then, he tentatively tried one 10-roll. This time, his luck seemed to have run dry. Aside from the guaranteed Grade 2 Healing Potion, he mostly got basic stamina restores and a “Mysterious Farming Skill Book.” Farming? In an interstellar era? Seriously? He also got a “Mech Maintenance Manual,” which seemed somewhat useful. The strangest pull was an “Amnesia Potion,” which allegedly caused memory loss and some kind of “imprinting” effect, Xie Anning figured he’d never have a use for that.

While these items didn’t seem immediately life-changing, Xie Anning found the variety entertaining. He decided to save the rest of his points as a contingency fund for future dangers.

He then consumed all three skill books. Instantly, a massive influx of data flooded his mind. The information overload was so intense it made his head throb, making it impossible to digest everything at once. Taking advantage of the downtime, he lay back on his bed and downed the Grade 2 Constitution Enhancement Potion.

On the other side, Jin Xinheng felt a surge of murderous intent bubbling up within him.

He glared at his subordinates, his face a mask of fury. “What the hell was that? Why was that match broadcasted to the entire network?”

“We, we don’t know!” the lackeys stammered, shaking with terror. “We just followed the orders from the message we received from you! We thought you had a specific plan!”