CDJMM – Volume 2 – Chapter 17 The State Slaps and Teaches the Scum a Lesson (17)

Yao Yanbai was typing away. She had to finish today’s novel update within three hours, and then she could finally go watch the livestream!

Yao Yanbai was an online writer. Besides writing, her favorite pastime was watching streams on the Qijiang Livestream App.

The Qijiang Livestream App was one of the largest streaming platforms across the entire star system, hosting countless live rooms of all kinds. Among them, one particular livestream stood out and became Yao Yanbai’s favorite.

To be precise, Yao Yanbai was a devoted fan of this livestream. She spent at least two to three hours in it every day.

The livestream was called: Time Travel 1989: I Help the State Cheat.

What initially drew Yao Yanbai to this livestream was the tag next to it: Rebirth in the ’80s and ’90s Simple Life. Yao Yanbai was a super fan of that book!

She especially admired the pastoral, idyllic life the book’s male and female leads enjoyed hundreds of years ago. Back then, time moved slowly, life was at a gentle pace, and people never rushed; they could truly take the time to experience life. Such peaceful and serene living had long vanished in the entertainment-obsessed 26th century.

So when Yao Yanbai saw a derivative livestream of Rebirth in the ’80s and ’90s on the Qijiang Livestream App, she immediately clicked in.

But…

Yao Yanbai, who had only wanted to watch a peaceful farming-life stream, was suddenly and completely blindsided by the fire and passion of socialism.

The style of this livestream was extraordinarily unique—completely different from what she had imagined.

No wonder the livestream was called I Help the State Cheat.

The streamer was literally helping the state cheat!

The streamer had traveled back in time but, unlike other time travelers, didn’t exploit his foresight for personal wealth or get lost in romance. Instead, he devoted all his time and energy to building up the country!

He used his precognitive advantage not for personal gain, but to help a then-impoverished nation develop its technology!

Against his noble and patriotic actions, other streamers showing their daily time-travel lives—who secretly played dumb to make money—looked extremely low-class.

And most importantly!

The streamer was a super male god: handsome, charming, and intelligent. In short, he was the kind of S-tier charismatic protagonist that could shatter the sky!

Compared to him, the original novel’s male lead, Li Yian, who had once made Yao Yanbai blush and her heart race, was just a little brother (literally pointing fingers).

After watching the livestream, her entire mindset was elevated! She became more “socialized”—don’t get it wrong, it was the socialist kind of socialized.

“In the vast sea of people, which one am I? In the rushing waves, which one am I? In the army conquering the universe, the one silently contributing is me…”

A familiar phone ringtone suddenly rang, interrupting Yao Yanbai’s work of converting brainwaves into written words.

In the 26th century, smartphones—those old relics—had long been phased out, replaced by brain-embedded AI assistants. However, in recent years, the retro trend had only grown stronger. Many celebrities and online influencers had begun using tech antiques from centuries ago, so Yao Yanbai followed the trend and bought an antique phone.

She set her phone’s ringtone to an old song from hundreds of years ago called “The Motherland Will Not Forget.” The song was originally composed to praise the engineers who quietly contributed to the country’s aerospace industry. Ever since her crush joined the space program, nobody knew which resourceful netizen had dug this song out from the dusty piles of history, but it spread across the entire star system at lightning speed and became the hit track two years ago.

Yao Yanbai even set this song as her phone ringtone. Every time she heard it, tears welled up in her eyes, and her heart surged with emotion.

She stared at the screen of her brain-computer interface and said to the AI assistant residing in her mind, “Aili, answer the call.”

Almost instantly, the phone was connected and switched to speaker mode, only for her to flinch in shock at the excited, ear-piercing screams of her friend on the other end. The chaotic brainwaves left a string of garbled text on the screen.

Covering her ears, Yao Yanbai exited her writing software while trying to raise her voice. “Ah Xue? What’s wrong?”

Her friend finally stopped screaming, gasped for breath, and in a hoarse but determined voice asked, “You haven’t watched today’s livestream, have you?”

There was only one livestream Ah Xue could be talking about: “Traveling to 1989: I Help My Country Cheat.” Like Yao Yanbai, Ah Xue was a devoted fan of the show. Four years ago, the two had met in the fan group for “I Help My Country Cheat,” and their shared interests quickly turned them into close friends.

Puzzled, Yao Yanbai said, “I haven’t watched it. You know, I’m always writing during the day and usually only catch livestreams at night.”

After four years as a fan, Yao Yanbai had shed her initial fanaticism. She no longer felt the urge to stay in the livestream room 24/7. As a mature fan now, she would only log in before bed to greet the host, glance at the stream, chat in the fan group, and watch edited highlights uploaded to video sites on weekends.

This was also the norm for most fans nowadays. After all, livestreams ran nearly ten or more hours daily, and nobody had the patience to watch the entire broadcast. That’s why the weekend condensed highlight videos released by the platform were especially popular.

“Quick! You need to watch it on Qijiang! Ahhh, today’s livestream is number one on Xingbo trending! The entire star network is exploding! Even the fan groups are blowing up! Oh my god! Unbelievable!”

Yao Yanbai: “?? Could it be Shenzhou-5 launching? Already? I thought Shenzhou-2 just launched not long ago?”

“Ahhh, I can’t explain it in a few words. Just go watch it!”

At her friend’s insistence, Yao Yanbai, still confused, opened the Qijiang livestream app and, like a seasoned user, tapped into the familiar host’s channel. The first thing she saw was today’s replay, with millions of shares and hundreds of thousands of comments, leaving her dumbfounded.

The last time the livestream room had been this lively was when the host unexpectedly revealed their time-traveling identity to the country—a bold move. Back then, Yao Yanbai hadn’t even joined the circle and had only heard stories from senior fans. That was when the host truly achieved legendary status.

Since that event, the host’s fame skyrocketed. From a rookie with only tens of thousands of fans, they became one of Qijiang’s pillars, now boasting hundreds of millions of followers.

Yao Yanbai’s curiosity was completely ignited. While she had missed the live stream and immersed herself in writing, what kind of wild antics had her male idol been up to this time?

She eagerly clicked on the replay and watched with rapt attention. To avoid spoilers in the comments, she even blocked them entirely.

At the start of the video, the streamer had heard from a colleague that Ms. Li Shuran was critically ill.

Yao Yanbai, alongside the young man, froze at the news for a long moment.

…

The frail, emaciated old lady lay silently in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask. Her chest rose and fell so slightly it was almost imperceptible, and the ECG monitor at the bedside showed an almost perfectly flat line.

Yao Yanbai’s breath caught. Her heart ached as if it were being twisted into a knot, and tears welled in her eyes.

The woman on that bed had once dedicated all her youth, honor, and life to this country.

She was a human star—the brightest star illuminating the eternal night.

But now that light had dimmed, and it seemed the star itself was about to fall.

No, it couldn’t be! Ms. Li Shuran would recover soon! According to the historical timeline, she would live to 96, and it was only 1994 now—she was just 82!

Yet one phrase kept surfacing in her mind, impossible to ignore: the “butterfly effect.”

Could it really be that the streamer’s historical meddling had triggered a butterfly effect, causing Ms. Li Shuran to go to heaven prematurely?

For the first time, Yao Yanbai felt utterly lost.

At that moment, thanks to the excellent audio setup of the live stream, she clearly heard the streamer lean close to Ms. Li Shuran and say a few words:

“These years, you’ve done very well. I’m proud to have such an outstanding sister.”

“From now on, leave the rest to your brother.”

“The dreams you didn’t achieve, I’ll fulfill them for you.”

Yao Yanbai: ????

The streamer’s words hit Yao Yanbai like a thunderclap, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. She didn’t even have time to rejoice at Li Shuran’s awakening; her mind was completely overwhelmed with a single thought: What the hell?!

As everyone knows, Ms. Li Shuran had only one brother, Li Jingran, a renowned writer and martyr from modern Republican China. Even though centuries had passed and textbooks had been revised countless times, Li Jingran’s “Farewell Letter,” left behind before his death, remained in Chinese literature classes. Generations of students glimpsed his unmatched brilliance and fearless revolutionary spirit through that text.

And now the streamer claimed to be Li Shuran’s brother!

Had the streamer lost their mind?

“Who are you?”

Li Shuran’s question mirrored Yao Yanbai’s own thoughts. She instinctively held her breath and stared at the screen without blinking, hoping for a reasonable explanation.

On screen, the young man’s eyelashes quivered. The look in his eyes as he gazed at the old woman on the bed was incomprehensibly complex. He instinctively formed a gentle smile:

“I am Chang Jingchen.”

The old woman gripped his hand tightly, stubbornly staring at him as if summoning every last ounce of strength, repeating, “Who are you?”

The young man remained silent for a long while. His star-dark eyes glimmered with an obscure, difficult-to-read emotion. The curve of his mouth was straight, devoid of any smile: “Do you really want to know?”

The old woman gasped, like a drowning person clutching at a final straw. Her eyes shone with desperate hope. Weak but determined, she answered: “Yes.”

The young man asked again: “Even if the answer isn’t very materialistic?”

The old woman seemed to squint slightly, a faint smile appearing: “I am a staunch materialist, but for my brother, I am willing to believe once more.”

The young man studied the old man for a long time. Finally, he closed his eyes slightly and let out a soft, wry laugh: “I am someone who forgot to drink Meng Po soup.”

And then the video ended!!

Yao Yanbai scoured the homepage for a while but couldn’t find any follow-up replay.

Damn it!!

Yao Yanbai cursed wildly in her mind. Then she quickly realized—she didn’t need to watch a replay. She could just go to the live stream to see the continuation!

She excitedly found the live stream and clicked in, only to see a line of prominent red text:

“The streamer has not started the live stream yet. Please check back later! Mwah ⊙ω⊙”

Yao Yanbai: !!! What the hell (screaming hoarsely)

She frantically rubbed her hair, agitated and restless as if she were experiencing a two-week-long period.

As if on cue, her phone rang loudly again.

“Have you seen the video?”

Yao Yanbai answered weakly: “I’ve seen it…”

“I know you must have a lot of questions. Right now, immediately open the Lianjiang forum. There’s already a thread with over 2,000 posts analyzing the streamer’s identity! Holy crap, the thread starter is such a scholar—I feel like my entire worldview is being overturned!!”