Yi Zichu’s voice was very low, so low it was almost indistinct. “Even if we send her there, that man won’t take care of her…”

Ning Yao: “He’s counting on the fact that we won’t let Jiujiu fend for herself — that’s exactly why he behaves this way! We have to steel ourselves. How do we know he won’t step up unless we try? They’re father and daughter. He’s the one who should be raising Jiujiu!”

Yi Zichu frowned. “Yao Yao, you know what kind of person that man is. If Jiujiu ends up with someone like that, it won’t end well for her…”

Ning Yao’s eyes reddened, tears on the verge of spilling over. “And staying with us — will that end well for her? Zichu-gege, I don’t want to send Jiujiu away either. But right now, Diandian and I can’t stream. We’re surviving on your and Youyou’s points alone. Sooner or later we won’t be able to hold on!”

“I know…” Yi Zichu exhaled heavily, his voice carrying the weight of someone far older than his years. “Give me a little more time to think.”

Ning Yao sniffled, divided the food on the table into several portions, picked up the tray, and walked out. “I’ll go wake the others for breakfast.”

The moment she stepped through the cafeteria door, she came face to face with Bai Youwei.

Bai Youwei showed not the slightest embarrassment or guilt at being caught eavesdropping. She glanced at the meager “breakfast” in Ning Yao’s hands, then looked toward Yi Zichu. “I’d like to ask you about the livestreaming. Is now a good time?”

Yi Zichu blinked. “Uh… How about this — I’ll take you to the service station. Once you’re there, things will start to make sense. Yao Yao, go ahead and wake the others. I’ll be back soon.”

Ning Yao hesitated. “And the matter with Jiujiu…”

“We’ll talk about it when I get back.” Yi Zichu looked helpless.

Ning Yao pressed her lips together, said nothing, and walked away.

Yi Zichu wolfed down the crackers on his own tray, tilted his head back to drink some water, then briskly tidied away his dishes, wiped his mouth, and stepped in front of Bai Youwei. “Let’s go.”

Bai Youwei’s understanding of their poverty deepened considerably.

Breakfast was two crackers, and cold water.

“By the way, is your livestream on?” Yi Zichu asked as they walked.

Bai Youwei shook her head. “No.”

“Turn it on now. The Newcomer Rankings only last 72 hours — counting from when you arrived yesterday, 10 hours have already passed. Don’t waste what’s left.”

Bai Youwei’s brow creased slightly. She genuinely hated being watched by that many eyes.

Yi Zichu seemed to read her thoughts and said, “Even if you don’t go live yourself, the audience can still see you through other people’s streams when you’re out in public.”

Bai Youwei: “……”

Fine, she’d stream then.

She pulled up her panel, pressed the livestream button, then glanced at the sky.

No barrages appeared yet — probably because her stream at the moment was entirely ordinary, nothing worth commenting on, so the barrages stayed quiet.

But the number on her wrist began rising again. That confirmed that people were watching her through the stream.

Yi Zichu told her, “Once the Newcomer Rankings are over, gaining exposure gets much harder. So take full advantage of that window and secure as many followers as you can. The bigger your following, the better your chances of survival.”

Bai Youwei asked, “My follower count is almost at 50, but my points are still at zero. Why?”

“Points can only be earned through gift redemptions,” Yi Zichu explained. “If fans send you gifts, you can convert them into the corresponding amount of points. Points are essentially the currency of this world — no matter what you need to do, points are involved…”

Bai Youwei understood. “So it’s not just about getting followers — you have to convince the audience to actually spend money on gifts for you. That’s the idea, right?”

Yi Zichu nodded. “Exactly. The higher your follower count, the greater the probability of receiving gifts.”

Bai Youwei: “So if nobody ever gifts me anything, I’m just waiting to die?”

Yi Zichu’s steps faltered. He glanced at her with mild sheepishness. “There is another option…”

—