Game News Network: Streamer Meng Han surpassed 3 million viewers yesterday, ranking first across all platforms.
Entertainment News: Dropout teen becomes top game streamer, earning tens of millions yearly.
Donghai Metropolitan Daily: Exclusive interview with streamer Meng Han on his miraculous rise in live streaming.
Live Streaming News: Streamer Meng Han reportedly secures record-breaking contract—up to 5 million yuan one-time fee.
......
In a small but tidy room, a pale, slender youth sat before his computer screen. He scrolled through the latest online reports about himself. The corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably.
He was Meng Han, the streamer mentioned in those headlines. Currently the most popular game streamer across all platforms, adored by countless fans. To keep him, the platform’s executives offered a 5-million-yuan signing bonus and a three-year, 100-million-yuan contract. The official signing was next week.
Meng Han switched back to his live stream. The screen flooded with viewer comments like “66666666666.” He’d just won a match with 17 kills and needed a short break.
3.32 million viewers. Unprecedented numbers for any streaming platform.
He was playing PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds (PUBG). Though only six months old, it dominated internet cafes worldwide.
Meng Han had once been a restaurant waiter. His only joy was gaming with friends after work, grabbing street food and drinks—just like any urban worker. Average height, slightly thin, with a delicate face. But he possessed extraordinary gaming talent. Since childhood, he mastered every game instantly.
Six months ago, a friend introduced him to PUBG. True to form, he ranked top 10 on the Asian server within weeks.
“Xiao Meng, you’re so skilled and young,” a gaming buddy had urged. “Try streaming—it’s better than slaving away like us.”
Meng Han was tempted. Restaurant life had worn him down. With savings and a friend’s help, he bought a decent PC, rented a 12-square-meter room, and joined the ChiYu Game Live Platform.
Blessed with skill and charm, he connected effortlessly with viewers. PUBG’s explosive popularity fueled his rise. Tonight, his viewership shattered 3 million—1 million ahead of the second-place streamer.
Honors poured in. He transformed from “dropout worker” to “dropout entrepreneur.” Local media fawned over him last week.
Pride swelled as he thought of next week’s signing. That 5-million-yuan fee would save his terminally ill sister. He’d reunite his family in America.
*Cough cough cough*...
Meng Han’s QQ window jiggled. A message popped up from Liang Sheng, a fellow ChiYu streamer: “Bro Meng, you’re awesome! Congrats on topping all platforms!”
Liang Sheng and Meng Han started streaming around the same time. They got along well. Meng Han replied modestly: “Bro Liang, too kind. Same to you.”
Liang Sheng quickly sent a new message with an image: “Bro Meng, here’s tomorrow’s PUBG International Invitational schedule. Officials asked me to forward it.”
Yes—Meng Han would compete tomorrow. His offline debut. He needed to prove he didn’t cheat. Rumors had haunted him since his first stream. Even after showing his face and hands live, skeptics persisted. A public win would silence them and boost his fame.
The image showed the tournament schedule. Normal. But the screen flickered slightly just now?
Meanwhile, his live chat exploded:
“KumaSaper: Bro Meng, one more game!”
“xuanpeiq: Chicken dinner! Chicken dinner!”
“Passing Noob A: Bro Meng is number one!”
“Little Gray Named by Ahoge: This streamer’s insane! Following now!”
......
Diligence defined success. Exhausted after eight hours of streaming, Meng Han started a new solo match anyway.
Something felt wrong.
The game visuals were familiar—he’d played thousands of hours. But his character moved erratically. Unnatural twitches.
“Weird. Broken mouse?” He checked quickly. Nothing. He’d buy a new one later. Money wouldn’t be an issue soon.
Fully geared—gun, helmet, vest, grenades—he headed toward the final circle. A vehicle drove past in the distance. Too far to hit. He ignored it.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
His character fired on its own. Every bullet struck the driver’s head perfectly. Impossible.
“This... how? I didn’t click!”
As Meng Han froze, his character went berserk. It sprayed bullets blindly. Enemies hidden in grass fell. No scope. Ultra-long range. Every shot a headshot.
The screen flooded with kill notifications:
“chiyumenghan killed liudehua with Kar98k headshot”
“chiyumenghan killed zhangxueyou with Kar98k headshot”
“chiyumenghan killed liming with Kar98k headshot”
“chiyumenghan killed guofucheng with Kar98k headshot”
......
No human could do this.
Worse, Meng Han rarely used his webcam. Viewers saw only game footage. They didn’t know his shock. The chat detonated:
“xuanpeiq: Holy shit, cheating! Definitely cheating!”
“Energetic New Driver: Damn, bullets with eyes?”
“Little Gray Named by Ahoge: Knew he was too good—total cheater!”
“Green-Headed Long-Necked Yellow Duck: Fuck, cheating trash!”
“Red Rabbit: Tech streamer 666666”
......
Meng Han stared at his idle right hand. Dumbfounded.
Seconds later, he was kicked from the game. A prompt flashed: “System detected cheating suspicion. Account frozen pending investigation.”
Panic set in. Cheating meant career death. He grabbed his mic: “Viewers, calm down! I hate cheaters most. I’d never—”
His words drowned under a torrent:
“Red Rabbit: Fuck you, cheating bastard!”
“LUOJUNL: If this isn’t cheating, what is? Even a fool sees it!”
“Ch10e: Cheating dog, quit streaming!”
......
Meng Han nearly broke down.
What happened? Why? I never cheat.
Then he remembered—the image Liang Sheng sent. That subtle screen flicker. A Trojan horse. Embedded in images. Remote control.
A lifeline.
Find the image. Show the chat logs. Clear my name.
Too late.
His screen moved on its own. Forced formatting began. Seconds later—pitch black. All evidence gone. He teetered on collapse.
He couldn’t fall yet. He had to explain before rumors spread. Viewers saw only an abrupt stream end. Cheating caught, then vanishing—like a confession.
His phone still worked. He could go live there—
“Incorrect password.”
Again. “Incorrect password.”
His streamer account was QQ-linked. If this failed... his QQ was compromised.
His phone rang. Caller ID: Zhang Wei. His old restaurant friend. The one who pushed him into streaming.
Before Meng Han spoke, Zhang Wei snapped: “Never thought you’d cheat. I misjudged you.”
“Huh? Old Zhang, you know me!”
“Heh. You just admitted cheating in the fan group—to boost stats and views.”
“What?!”
“Don’t play dumb. Check the forums.”
The call cut off. Meng Han logged into the game’s Tieba forum. Top posts screamed:
“Meng Han’s Cheating Confirmed: Admitted in Fan Group”
A screenshot showed a QQ group message. Admin tag. Nickname: “Meng Han1999.”
“(Group Admin) Meng Han1999: Sorry for lying. I cheated since day one. Today, I messed up testing the hack—got exposed live. I quit streaming. Starting fresh.”
The account was his. His fans knew it.
Meng Han dropped his phone. Stared blankly at the ceiling.
He understood—he was done.
