Conquering the Stars and My Haters’ Hearts - Chapter 4

The events of Xie Anning’s livestream didn’t cause an immediate sensation. After all, he was an unsigned streamer; pulling in 30,000 viewers was impressive, but not world-shaking.

The catalyst was a Ferdinand “anti-fan” who caught the final minutes of the broadcast. He recorded the footage and uploaded it to the Empire’s largest video site with a provocative title: “SENSATIONAL: Top Genius Rookie Ferdinand Crushed by Newbie Streamer!” The video went viral, racking up over a million views in a few short hours.

Initially, people flocked to the comments to blast the uploader for spreading fake news. But after watching the clip, the vitriol died down into a stunned silence. Wait, the title is actually true?

Ferdinand was a public figure with tens of millions of followers. Naturally, his social media accounts exploded. An army of fans refused to believe the loss was legitimate, claiming Xie Anning must have used “underhanded tactics.” They pointed to the moment Ferdinand’s mecha lost control as proof of foul play.

In the heat of the moment, no one bothered to watch the full original broadcast. The narrative was set: the streamer was a cheat.

Though veteran players pointed out that the game’s matchmaking and mechanics were strictly fair, they were quickly drowned out by insults from the “stans.” Even the small group of fans Xie Anning had just gained didn’t dare speak up.

Ferdinand’s fans were incensed, ready to hunt Xie Anning down—only to realize the streamer, “Call Me Daddy,” didn’t even have a social media profile. Between the Interstellar Net’s robust privacy protections and Xie Anning’s own silence, they had no way to doxx him.

Frustrated, they swarmed his inactive stream room with insults. Ironically, this surge of activity pushed his room to the top of the “Trending” charts, leading many curious passersby to follow him out of sheer sympathy.

As this digital war raged through the night, the man at the center of it was sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware.

Autumn Waters, however, was fuming. As the teammate who had witnessed everything, he knew Xie Anning hadn’t cheated. He had seen the man’s skill level evolve in real-time.

Moreover, he remembered Xie Anning’s words: “I’m saving him.” Connecting that to the way Ferdinand’s mecha had malfunctioned, it was obvious that Ferdinand’s Mental Strength had hit a breaking point during the duel, and Xie Anning had stepped in to stabilize him.

How could they insult such a good person? Autumn Waters spent the night white-knighting in forums, but his debating skills were no match for the mindless trolls. He was thoroughly roasted until dawn.

Everything changed at sunrise when Ferdinand’s silent account finally posted three words:

“He saved me.”

The internet went into shock. Some suspected a hack, but the cold, minimalist tone was classic Ferdinand. People finally calmed down enough to watch the full replay. Early viewers stepped up to testify that “Call Me Daddy” was the real deal, noting his terrifying rate of improvement.

Some pieced together the truth from the subtle clues, though many still found it hard to swallow. If Ferdinand’s Mental Strength couldn’t hold its own against this stranger, the implications were terrifying. Most chose a middle-ground theory: Ferdinand’s mental stability had wavered, and the opponent had simply been a Good Samaritan.

As for Xie Anning’s rapid growth? Many dismissed it as a “pro” pretending to be a “noob” for the sake of the video.

The tide turned. Insults were deleted, and public apologies were posted. Moderators scrubbed the more toxic threads. By morning, the storm had largely subsided, leaving only a massive spike in followers on Xie Anning’s account and a flurry of private messages.

Deep in the shadows, influential figures began digging. While the public might have been fooled, the true experts knew the truth: “Call Me Daddy” was a Level S Mental Strength powerhouse. He was young, likely not yet in university, and his learning curve was vertical. To handle a mecha that naturally after such a short time was a feat even elite military academy students couldn’t replicate.

The top military academies in the Empire were already salivating. If they could recruit such a talent, they would pay him to attend.

Alva Noble High School

The students here were the trifecta of society: rich, powerful, or exceptionally gifted. The school even had aesthetic requirements for entry. Their resources were top-tier, funneling many graduates directly into high-level military colleges.

Xie Anning had only gotten in through the “back door.” He was enrolled in the Literature Department—a track that didn’t require mecha piloting—but even there, Mental Strength stats mattered.

The original owner of the body had almost zero Mental Strength, making him a perennial laughingstock. After his family fell from grace, he had developed a desperate crush on the school “idol,” Ning Xiujin, who had once offhandedly helped him out of a jam. That crush had led to the series of events that ended with the original owner being beaten so badly he was hospitalized.

Ning Xiujin likely didn’t even know he existed. At the top of the social pyramid, why would he look down?

Xie Anning stepped off the hover-taxi, staring at the grand architecture and the rows of luxury vehicles. He felt no intimidation. With a slight smirk, he activated the [Truth Serum].

The system warned him that this was a low-grade version. It wouldn’t make people blurt out everything uncontrollably, but it significantly lowered their social filters and inhibitions.

As he walked onto campus, students passing by froze.

The boy in the simple white shirt looked like a different person. His presence was striking, his features refined and sharp.

“Do we have a guy this handsome at our school? Why haven’t I seen him before?”

“Yeah, he looks totally unfamiliar. Is he a new transfer?”

“Someone that good-looking couldn’t possibly be a nobody, right?”

Normally, they wouldn’t have voiced these thoughts out loud, but under the serum’s influence, their inner monologues were leaking.

Xie Anning ignored the murmurs and found his classroom. His seat was in the very back by the window—the most isolated spot in the room.

A group of students was currently laughing as they kicked his desk over.

“God, did you see the love letter Xie Anning wrote to Ning Xiujin? I almost died laughing.”

“The writing is trash. My three-year-old brother writes better than this. No wonder Ning Xiujin threw it straight in the garbage. I heard this loser even wants to write web novels?”

“He’s garbage. No one would read his work if he paid them. Besides, he’s broke now. He’ll probably get expelled after failing the makeup exams anyway.”

Xie Anning recalled that the original owner’s only solace was writing, a hobby his classmates had discovered and used as fuel for mockery.

[Task Triggered]: Publish a new work on a major website or submit to a magazine. Goal: 10,000 Popularity Points. Reward: One Random Draw.

Unlike his initial confusion with the streaming task, Xie Anning felt a surge of genuine excitement. Writing was his old trade, he had been a successful author before his untimely death from overwork.

“Don’t you guys think this is a bit much?” a female student asked weakly from the sidelines.

The bullies just sneered. “Who cares? It’s not like he’s coming back. He’ll be expelled in a few days anyway.”

“What could a loser like him even learn if he did show up? We’re doing him a favor! We’re teaching him exactly when to quit.”

Right at that moment, Xie Anning walked in.

As the students looked up, the room fell into a collective, breathless hush.

Does our class really have a guy this handsome? His appearance was nothing short of stunning.

“Excuse me, are you looking for someone?”

Xie Anning turned toward the speaker. It was a girl with a kind, smiling face—the same girl who, in the past, had looked upon the original owner with nothing but undisguised loathing.

She was just an ordinary person. It was only natural for someone like her to despise a student as cowardly as the former Xie Anning; though she had never actively bullied him, Xie Anning felt no particular warmth toward her, even if he held no grudge.

“No,” Xie Anning replied, shaking his head slightly with a faint, polite smile. “I’m just here for class.”

With that, under the watchful eyes of the entire room, he walked straight toward his usual seat.

The group that had been mid-mockery felt the shift in the atmosphere. Thinking the “real” Xie Anning had arrived, they looked up, ready to unleash a fresh round of insults. But when they saw this clean-cut, elegant youth standing before them, they froze. Even Yu Hongfeng, the most arrogant of the lot, felt a rare surge of bashfulness. His tone was uncharacteristically subdued.

“Do, do you need something?”

“This is my seat,” Xie Anning said. His voice carried no trace of irritation, yet it possessed a resonant quality that made his listeners feel strangely at ease.

He must be a new transfer student, was the thought that immediately flashed through everyone’s minds.

In their memories, the “real” Xie Anning could never look like this. That boy had been cowering and pathetic, a shadow who did nothing but huddle in corners scribbling in notebooks—someone whose very presence was eyesore. There was no way this radiant, aesthetically pleasing person could have anything to do with him.

The bullies even began internally cursing the “old” Xie Anning for moving away without a word, terrified that they had made a terrible first impression on this attractive new classmate. While those further away kept these thoughts internal, Yu Hongfeng, standing right there, blurted his out.

“Quick, get this desk up and wipe it clean! Hurry, don’t keep him waiting!” Yu Hongfeng barked at the others. His family was among the elite of the class, and his Mental Strength was a solid Level B, making him the one everyone scrambled to please. He then turned back to Xie Anning with a fawning expression. “Uh, sorry about that. What’s your name? Our behavior just now, it wasn’t directed at you. It was just for that loser, Xie Anning.”

Xie Anning looked him straight in the eye.

“I am Xie Anning.”

With a loud thud, the desk they had just righted slammed back onto the floor. The group stood frozen, mouths agape, completely losing the ability to function.

“What?” The rest of the class looked like their eyes were about to pop out of their heads. This was Xie Anning? How was that even possible?