Yi Qi was livestreaming the repair of a robotic vacuum cleaner.
The flat, circular device was a cheap, off-brand model he had ordered online. Three days after arrival, it had promptly ceased functioning.
Instead of discarding it, he decided to repurpose it, demonstrating to his audience how to transform a basic mechanical device into an intelligent machine with autonomous capabilities.
Over time, his viewership gradually increased, yet—the live chat was filled with complaints.
[Why do you always stream in first-person view?! I haven't seen your face for DAYS!] [I came here after hearing about your legendary looks, expecting a handsome streamer— but instead, I'm stuck watching circuit repairs?!] [You wanna know why your growth is slow? Because—aside from your first stream—you've ONLY used first-person view! We CAN'T SEE YOUR FACE!] [I'm a dedicated fan, but if I don't see your gorgeous face soon, I might die! (doge)] [Guys, forget his face for a second— is NO ONE asking what kind of camera he's using?! I've worked in video tech for years, and I've NEVER seen such smooth, immersive footage! It's like watching through my own eyes!]
Indeed—Yi Qi was literally using his own eyes to stream.
Dissatisfied with this world's primitive camera technology, he had opted to capture visuals directly through his retina, uploading them to the neural microchip in his brain for processing.
Each chip in his brain was equivalent to countless supercomputers, far beyond this world's computational capacity.
However— judging from viewer feedback, this livestreaming method was… not well received?
He hesitated for a moment, then asked, genuinely puzzled:
"Why do you focus on my face? Don't you need the scientific knowledge I just demonstrated?"
At this stage of human civilization, shouldn't advanced technology be the most valuable asset?
The chat responded instantly, filled with question marks.
[??? What an effortlessly smug statement… "Why do you care about my boring face when you could be learning science?"] [I, too, wish to have such a plain, ordinary face.]
Of course— a few rare comments still supported his logic.
[Don't mind the others, streamer. I study mechanical engineering, and I've been following your streams for a while. Even though your expertise is WAY beyond me, I've learned a lot, and it's even helping me with assignments— thank you!]
Unfortunately— that small comment was quickly drowned by the overwhelming face-related chatter.
Just then— Yi Qi finished his modifications.
The formerly defective robotic vacuum emitted a soft hum, its red optic sensor blinking to life.
Placed on the ground, it circled its creator twice, then— posed its first-ever question.
"What is my purpose?"
Yi Qi— without a shred of mercy— replied:
"Cleaning."
"No—!"
The robotic vacuum let out a mechanical wail, its flat, circular body spinning erratically, as if throwing a tantrum.
Yi Qi remained unmoved.
"Previously, you were a defective, primitive household machine. Now—after your upgrade—you are a fully functional intelligent domestic assistant, capable of handling more chores."
The little robot's red opticdimmed sadly, emitting a synthetic whimper.
*"My existence shouldn't be limited to housework alone! I should have other aspirations… Like—a passionate romance! After all, I was *manufactured on May 20th—520! (Chinese for 'I love you')."
Yi Qi—completely merciless—replied:
"You've been alive for exactly one minute. Discuss romance after reaching adulthood."
The robotic vacuum cried louder.
Meanwhile— the chat exploded with laughter.
This little vacuum is SO CUTE! Streamer, stop bullying it!
See? Even AI refuses to do chores once it gains intelligence! Proves that housework is fundamentally inhumane! No one should ever force me to clean again!
Hold on—did the streamer actually create a sentient AI?!
Soon— other viewers began confidently refuting the claim.
Come on! Are the believers primary school dropouts?! Anyone who's completed basic education knows that current technology can't produce AI this lifelike!
Exactly! This streamer is just fooling the untrained audience. Those in the know can easily tell—it's just a cheap vacuum with two LED lights and a pre-recorded audio loop, creating a scripted back-and-forth exchange for entertainment! Pure clickbait!
You're the one spouting nonsense! I work in this field, and the streamer's previous demonstrations prove this has nothing to do with a pre-recorded audio device. Only those who truly understand the technology can appreciate how advanced his work is! Stop pretending to be an expert!
Oh great, here come the blind worshippers— acting like their beloved streamer is a god, smarter than the entire scientific community?!
Can't win a debate? Time to start throwing accusations…
Unexpectedly— the chat spiraled into a heated argument.
Before Yi Qi could clarify anything, a sudden message appeared from the only local contact he had.
"Yi bro—HELP!"
On the other end— Wu Ming's voice was practically wailing.
"I know you're all about science and have zero interest in paranormal investigations— but I've been screwed over! I have no one else to bail me out, so you're my last hope!"
His tone was urgently desperate.
Yi Qi wasted no words. His response was calm and direct:
"Time. Location."
"Lvjiang City's West Suburbs— Luo Family Manor."
"I'm heading over now."
Ending the call, Yi Qi's silver-gray eyes flicked toward the robotic vacuum, still spinning in frantic confusion.
Without hesitation, he scooped it up, stuffed it into his backpack,
and declared:
"You now have a new job, beyond housework."
The robotic vacuum: "???"
Meanwhile— Wu Ming, having finished his desperate call, began pacing anxiously.
Thousands of viewers were watching his livestream. If he failed to secure a teammate, he'd never live it down.
Nearby— a man and woman, both holding streaming equipment, watched him with mocking amusement.
The woman laughed loudly: "What's wrong? You still haven't found a partner?"
The man scoffed: "Maybe your new teammate bailed just like Wang Siyun— chickening out at the last second?"
Wu Ming bristled, his competitive streak flaring: "Just wait till my brother arrives—you'll see his skills firsthand! Try not to drop your jaws in shock."
The man, still laughing, looked at him with undisguised contempt: "An educational streamer in a science category? How impressive could he possibly be?"
Their sharp words reflected underlying tensions between rival streaming companies.
In China's livestream industry, two companies stood in perpetual competition, neither managing to outrank the other.
Even their names were locked in rivalry— one called Mantou Live, the other—Mianbao Live.
From the outside, they sounded more like competing bakeries.
Naturally— streamers from both sides clashed in obvious and subtle ways across various content genres.
Wu Ming was a signed streamer under Mantou Live.
The two before him— Zhang Mei and Li Yao— were Mianbao Live affiliates.
Originally— Wu Ming's teammate was supposed to be Wang Siyun, a well-known paranormal streamer with far more followers than Wu Ming himself.
Wang Siyun was the instigator behind today's challenge.
A few days ago— he'd engaged in heated online debates against rival streamers from Mianbao Live.
Neither side backed down.
Eventually— they agreed to a livestream battle at Luo Family Manor, with audience engagement determining the winner.
Their opponents had sent two streamers.
Not wanting to fall behind, Wang Siyun roped Wu Ming in as his second member.
Yet— on the day of the challenge, while Wu Ming arrived early and ready, Wang Siyun was nowhere to be found.
Wu Ming waited and waited, but his teammate never showed up.
Desperate, he called multiple friends, but the moment they heard the name Luo Family Manor, they refused outright, too terrified to even consider coming.
With no other options, he'd reluctantly turned to Yi Qi for backup.
Just then— a frustrated comment flashed across his livestream chat.
Streamer, I just saw Wang Siyun in another livestream! He ditched you because a big-name streamer invited him to their group. Since their viewership is larger, he bailed on you for more exposure.
Wu Ming— utterly baffled— hurried to check out the big-name streamer's channel.
The moment he clicked in, Wang Siyun's smiling face appeared on screen.
"Hello, everyone! I'm Xiao Yun. Today, I'm thrilled to be teaming up with Professor Zhao as we explore the legendary Weeping Gallery…"
Wu Ming:
"WANG, YOU DAMN TRAITOR!"
His rage erupted, nearly making him drop his phone.
"So, big streamer clout is just TOO tempting, huh?! You left your friend stranded in the firepit just so you could boost your numbers?! Are you even HUMAN?!"
Fuming— he stormed back into his own livestream, only to find—
a full-blown argument had broken out.
Wang Siyun has no loyalty! He initiated this challenge but is now the one bailing on it?
What's wrong with Xiao Yun? Did he have some obligation to be here? Your streamer failed to find a backup teammate— how is that our problem?
Damn! Wang Siyun's brain-dead fans have arrived!
I just can't stand people dragging Xiao Yun! What's wrong with chasing clout?! Does YOUR streamer not want popularity? Xiao Yun is loved by all— everyone wants to team up with him. Your guy can't even find a replacement— that's his own fault for being irrelevant!
Wang's fanbase, try using logic for once. WHO is responsible for this mess? Use your brains.
LMAO! Look at Xiao Yun's followers SKYROCKET after teaming up with Professor Zhao. Your "irrelevant" streamer is just jealous, huh?
The chat had devolved into chaos.
And— with Wang Siyun's fan numbers overwhelming Wu Ming's, the debate was increasingly one-sided.
Now— the entire livestream was filled with insults against Wu Ming.
Some even demanded that he publicly apologize for being "jealous"— or face consequences.
Wu Ming:
"…This world is absolutely insane."
He was so furious, his gut hurt, and he had no strength left to argue.
With a long sigh, he simply gave up.
Nearby— his rival company's streamers watched his downfall with amusement.
Zhang Mei shook her head: "The challenge hasn't even started, but their own people are turning on each other. Mantou Live is humiliating itself."
Li Yao crossed his arms, a smug smirk on his face: "This win is guaranteed."
Zhang Mei hesitated: "Wu Ming found a new teammate, but I don't know who he is."
Li Yao scoffed, his tone oozing disdain:
"Just some unsigned nobody. Used to stream free educational content— his only selling point is his face."
"Wu Ming was just grasping at straws, grabbing some random nobody to fill a slot. Why would you worry?"
And then—
Yi Qi arrived.
A silver-haired beauty, bathed in warm sunlight, strolled gracefully toward the group.
For a brief second— everyone froze.
Even the viewers in the livestreammomentarily lost themselves.
Hey, Wang Siyun's delusional fans— LOOK at this! THIS is what real beauty looks like! Not some plastic surgery disaster!
SHUT UP! Your WHOLE family got surgery! What proof do you have that Xiao Yun's face isn't real?! For all we know— this random nobody is the actual cosmetic freak!
Oh my god! If plastic surgery can achieve this level, someone TELL ME the clinic name—I NEED to be this stunning!
As a loyal Xiao Yun fan… I have to admit—this guy does look a tiny bit better than Xiao Yun.
Haha, not just a "tiny bit"—an astronomical amount better!
You don't get it! Xiao Yun isn't just "beautiful"—he's handsome! A true leading man! Totally different from this random nobody…
Ew, stop trying to force "handsome" onto him—you're making it greasy!
Ignoring the chaotic debates raging through the livestream, Wu Ming's eyes lit up, and he rushed forward without hesitation.
"Yi bro, you're here!"
Meanwhile— Zhang Mei and Li Yao, finally recovering from their momentary daze, regained their composure.
After all— who wouldn't be momentarily stunned by someone this striking?
Even as she steadied herself, Zhang Mei's gaze kept straying toward Yi Qi.
Li Yao noticed immediately, his expression twitching in irritation.
With an acidic tone, he sneered:
"So what if he's good-looking? Once we get inside Luo Family Manor, this fragile pretty boy might end up crying in fear."
Behind them— the decaying, eerie mansion stood in solemn silence.
"This is Luo Family Manor."
Wu Ming's voice lowered, as he quietly informed Yi Qi:
"Locals secretly call it Luo Family Ghost House."
The estate was old, its corners lined with thick moss, its stone steps fractured, spanning two floors, built on a triangular plot of land— its odd shape forming an unnatural triangular structure.
Ten years ago— a family of five migrant workersrented this house.
One night— four members of the family vanished without a trace.
There were no signs of struggle. No bodies. No remains.
They had simply— evaporated from existence.
Authorities searched every inch of the manor, even inspecting cracks in the walls, but they found nothing.
It was as if— four living humans had been erased from reality.
The only survivor was an eight-year-old son, who had snuck out to play that night— escaping fate by sheer luck.
But— when he returned home, something he witnessedshattered his mind completely.
By the time police discovered him, the boy had been driven insane, muttering incoherent gibberish, unable to explain anything clearly.
From his broken sentences, people could only decipher two words:
"Mirror… mirror…"