101: Mindset is the most important thing in live streaming

Pushing open the door of the Villa, Qin Ya collapsed onto the sofa.

She was hugging a pillow, and upon hearing the movement, her head immediately popped out from behind the sofa backrest.

“You guys are back?” Qin Ya smiled mischievously. “Did you have fun?”

Qin Lu bent down to change her shoes, her voice feigning calmness: “Yes. Did you eat dinner?”

“I ate. Sister Xinran ordered takeout for me.” Qin Ya pouted. “Did you two eat?”

“We grabbed a quick bite at the service area,” Yu Heng replied, changing his shoes and walking in. “How was the stream today? You weren't slacking off, were you?”

“Am I that kind of person?” Qin Ya rolled her eyes. “Three hours, not a minute less!”

Yu Heng went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, twisted it open, and took a drink.

Just then, Bai Xinran's room door opened. She shuffled out in her slippers, looking listless.

“Why did you end the stream so early?” Yu Heng glanced at the time; it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

Bai Xinran walked into the living room and sat down at the other end of the long sofa. “I got so angry I couldn't stream anymore.”

“What happened?” Yu Heng raised an eyebrow.

Bai Xinran sighed, her brows furrowed. “A bunch of inexplicable people came into the stream room. Their IDs were gibberish, they said incredibly nasty things, and they didn't watch the stream properly. They just instigated trouble and spammed disgusting bullet comments, making the atmosphere terrible. The moderators couldn't ban them fast enough, and a lot of normal viewers lost interest because of them.”

Qin Ya interjected from the side, “I occasionally get a few psychos in my stream room too, but not that many.”

Yu Heng listened, concluding that this was likely still an effect of the previous incident.

Although streaming DIY wasn't unusual—even the real-person section had dual-camera setups—it was still rare for the audience of a Virtual Streamer.

“It is annoying to run into these people,” Yu Heng said. “But there's no need to let yourself get angry over it.”

“People who watch streams, especially those who stay in the stream room long-term, can generally be divided into two types. The first type is ordinary people—normal people. This is the majority. They have real lives to attend to—work, study, family. Watching streams is just a pastime for their occasional free time. Maybe they're tired after work, they open it up to listen, use it as background noise, and are too lazy even to send bullet comments. If they see a Streamer they like or encounter an interesting topic, they might interact a couple of times. If they're happy, they might conveniently give some gifts—the specific amount depends on their financial ability. If these people encounter something they don't like, they just swipe their finger and leave.”

Bai Xinran nodded. Most of her stable, long-time viewers and Captains were indeed like this: the atmosphere was harmonious, and consumption was rational.

“The second type, their lives are relatively empty. They need continuous stimulation to fill their boring existence. These people are usually very malicious. They might be unhappy in real life, so they go online to seek validation, speaking without manners, taking pleasure in disgusting others, arguing, and destroying the atmosphere. These are the 'Pseudo-humans.'”

Qin Ya interjected, “Yes! Exactly those kinds!”

“Although these people are a minority, every platform has them. Just block them, and they usually won't bother you further. If they can't stay in one stream room, they'll immediately switch to another and continue. Their attention is very scattered; they aren't worth worrying about.”

Bai Xinran bit her lower lip: “But the ones who came today didn't feel entirely like that. Heh, they seemed exceptionally patient...”

“Then those are the extremely rare and most troublesome ones within the second type: the seemingly normal social trash.”

“These people may be found in all walks of life, perhaps even having received good education, holding respectable jobs, and coming from privileged backgrounds. But the problem is that their perception of society is built upon their own set of logic. You can't reason with them. They are paranoid and extreme, immersed in their own world, and this trait is magnified online. If you just block them, they might even switch to a burner account and return to harass you with increased intensity. They might even post negative reviews in your video comment section and specifically seek out bad reviews to agree with.”

“What's the point of them doing that?” Bai Xinran didn't understand.

“Because the more insecure and incompetent a person is, the more they need validation. This act of contradicting and belittling others gives them a sense of superiority.”

“Then what should I do?” Her voice was a little hoarse.

If that's truly the case, won't it be endless?

Yu Heng screwed the cap back onto the water bottle and leaned back into the sofa.

“There's nothing you can do but treat it like stepping in dog poop,” he said calmly. “Block them if you need to block them, or curse them out if you need to curse them out, but there's no need to let yourself get upset. After all, your fist can't reach through the network cable and out of his screen.”

Bai Xinran curled up at the other end of the sofa, hugging her knees and furrowing her brows.

“That's why mindset is so important,” Yu Heng continued. “You don't need to get emotional over these kinds of people. The internet mixes people of different classes and perceptions who would almost never meet in real life. You get all sorts.”

“Streaming is no longer just a hobby for you; it's a job,” Yu Heng said, looking at Bai Xinran. “What is work for? To make money. If you make the money, even if he throws a tantrum, trolls you, or slanders you, he's still the clown.”

Bai Xinran pouted: “But quite a few of these people are high-level users. Their badges are level dozens; they're much richer than I am.”

Yu Heng smiled. “Virtue not matching one's position will lead to failure sooner or later. Don't look at those things. Just focus on earning the money you can earn.”

“What if they keep coming?” Bai Xinran looked up. “Using different burner accounts.”

“Then keep banning them,” Yu Heng said crisply. “Muting and blocking are powers the platform gives you; you should use them. Ban him until he finds it boring, and he'll naturally move on to someone else. These people are essentially looking for validation. The more you engage, the more energized they become. If you ignore him, he'll lose interest. Besides, there really aren't many of these people—one in a hundred is probably too many. There's no need to dwell on them and get angry. If you ignore him and respond normally to the bullet comments of others in the stream room, the atmosphere will remain harmonious, and he'll eventually get bored of rambling to himself and leave.”

Bai Xinran nodded, resting her chin on her knees, and gave a muffled “Okay.”

Seeing that Yu Heng's Streamer training was over, Qin Lu turned to Qin Ya: “Let's go, time to go home.”

“I know, I know.” Qin Ya climbed off the sofa and stretched. “Brother, we're leaving now?”

“Drive safely,” Yu Heng said, standing in the entryway and watching the mother and daughter change their shoes.

Qin Lu put on her shoes, and as she stood up, she glanced at Yu Heng.

Her gaze was complex, but she didn't say anything, just nodded, then pulled the door open and led Qin Ya out.

The door closed.

The Villa instantly fell silent. Yu Heng turned and walked back into the living room.

Bai Xinran was still sitting in the same spot on the sofa, her posture unchanged, curled up in a ball.

Yu Heng walked over and sat down next to her.

The sofa dipped slightly.

He didn't speak, just reached out and rubbed the top of her head twice.

“Still angry?” he asked.

Bai Xinran shook her head, her hair brushing against his palm.

“I'm not angry anymore,” her voice was still a bit low. “I'm just a little tired.”

Yu Heng's hand slid down from the top of her head, stopping at the back of her neck, where he squeezed lightly.

“If you're tired, rest,” he said. “If you can't stream today, forget about it. It's fine to skip one day.”

“Mm...”

“I'm here. If you feel wronged, just say it. Crying is okay too.”