Su Chen lay quietly on the recliner, basking in the sunlight.
The weather today was warm. After all, it was winter—if you're not freezing, what more could you want? A bike? Please.
Lying in the sun doing absolutely nothing—anyone could do it, and it didn't take any effort at all.
Meanwhile, the chat in the livestream was in total chaos. Su Chen's stream now resembled a bustling marketplace, filled with noisy arguments, insults, and an endless barrage of keyboard smashing.
Most of it was hate, of course. Many people are selfish by nature—so long as they're entertained, they couldn't care less about others.
Su Chen didn't bother moderating the comments. In fact, this kind of chaotic atmosphere was exactly what he wanted to see.
100,000 viewers!
Time for his performance.
Su Chen stood up and folded his recliner, putting it back into the RV. That one move left the audience completely puzzled.
("Why did he stand up?"
"So he doesn't just lie around—he actually moves!"
"What the hell is this guy up to now? Weird."
"That clown mask is hideous. But I have to admit, the guy has some charisma—otherwise, why would so many people stick around watching?")
The two camps of viewers in the livestream—supporters and haters—were both completely thrown off. The arguments died down.
Slowly, everyone's attention shifted back to Su Chen.
He pulled out his fishing rod, walked over to the pond nearby, and began to fish. The real show hadn't even started yet.
Even the haters, who had been mocking Su Chen for just standing around like an idiot, fell awkwardly silent—because now they looked like the fools.
The truth was, most of the haters were just bored trolls. They had no real grudge against Su Chen.
They weren't hardcore anti-fans—just random internet cynics with nothing better to do.
But now, many of them started warming up to him.
Supportive comments began to appear in the chat:
("So the streamer is just broadcasting a chill lifestyle? That's actually kind of appealing."
"Wow, this is so peaceful. I wish I could live like this."
"When I saw the clown mask, I thought he was some kind of freak. Turns out he's just an outdoorsy streamer.")
Gained 28 new followers from the 'Cherry Tomato' group.
That was the first wave of followers. A small group stayed to watch Su Chen fish, while others simply left the stream.
Su Chen didn't mind at all. Most of the viewer count was inflated anyway.
This was just a natural filter, weeding out the curiosity-driven lurkers. His mission was to gain followers, not maintain high viewer numbers.
The ones who remained were those genuinely interested in his content.
And from that group, the chances of gaining true fans were much higher—after all, they were the ones who appreciated his laid-back streaming style.
The viewer count quickly halved, leaving about 50,000 people in the stream.
The trolls had mostly vanished, and hateful comments all but disappeared.
Now, the audience consisted of either Su Chen's loyal early followers or haters who'd converted into fans.
Su Chen continued fishing with his back to the camera, so viewers could only see his silhouette.
Before long, he reeled in a big one—a three-pound grass carp, a fairly common catch.
Still, for someone in a survival scenario, it was a pretty impressive haul.
The viewers were stunned.
("Holy crap, that's huge! I could live off that for days."
"Where is this place? Beautiful scenery and fat fish? Someone drop a pin—I'm booking a flight."
"Is this guy doing the ol' 'pretend to be weak then dominate' routine? He started off looking so lame, and now he pulls in a monster like that?")
Even Su Chen hadn't expected to catch such a big fish. It wasn't part of the plan.
But no problem—since he'd scored a big one, he figured he might as well treat himself to some grilled fish.
He cleaned the fish and took out his portable grill.
At that point, the livestream chat exploded.
Viewers started wildly speculating about his true identity. He wore a clown mask and streamed anonymously, which only fueled their curiosity. A regular survivalist wouldn't be packing a grill.
It was clear—this guy wasn't ordinary.
After all, if everyone could stream, why was he the only one doing it?
("Anyone recognize this guy? He's gotta be one of the global top 100 or something."
"Damn, he's really about to barbecue that fish. I'm drooling over here."
"I want some too… sob sob."
"Same. I'd kill for a bite.")
Su Chen had completely hooked the audience. His follower count began to spike rapidly—he'd already broken 500 followers.
He was stunned. He'd expected slow, steady growth. He'd even mapped out a detailed plan to reach 1,000 followers, unsure if he could actually hit that milestone.
But now, his stream had unexpectedly blown up?
Well then—why stop now? His minimum goal was 1,000 followers. If he could keep growing, he definitely wasn't going to complain.
He hadn't even checked what reward was tied to the 1,000-follower goal. He'd assumed it would be tough to reach—but now, he was sure he'd surpass it.
And the more followers, the better the rewards—no doubt about it.
Su Chen was ready to push as far as he could.
Even though he wasn't a natural-born streamer—and hadn't said a single word on camera—the sheer appeal of good food was enough to do the work for him.
Viewers watched his skilled hands as he grilled the fish, oil sizzling and crackling on the hot grill, and found themselves swallowing hard.
Su Chen was no amateur chef. He'd grilled food a few times before, so he was more than capable.
("Oh my god, that smells amazing. I'm literally drooling."
"Hey, cutie—mind if someone joins you? I'll do anything."
"Do you want a boyfriend?"
"Bro, you serious? He's not even looking for a girlfriend, and you think he wants a boyfriend?"
"I'm not picky. I just want a bite of that fish."
"This is so appetizing. I'm following. You better stream more often!")
Fan numbers continued to surge—he had not only reached his 1,000-follower goal, but blown past it, and the growth showed no signs of stopping.
Looks like Su Chen had good instincts after all—food content is forever king.
Especially in a world like this RV survival setting, where entertainment options were so limited.
That made Su Chen's food-centric stream all the more fascinating.