Live Stream Ban Day

Old Wang was a small-time streamer, consistently going live at 8 PM every night to showcase his cooking skills, which had been seasoned by time and cooking fumes. His live stream room was named "Old Wang's Kitchen Aroma," and his audience was stable at a single-digit number, mostly retired folks from downstairs, occasionally a child from the neighbor's house would sneak in and shout "Grandpa Wang, hello."

Tonight was no exception. Old Wang skillfully sliced potatoes while the oil sizzled in the pan. He habitually rambled to the camera, “Making some shredded potatoes with vinegar today, simple and delicious, suitable for all ages. Don't you agree? Hey, Old Li, why haven't you sent any comments today? Did you go downstairs to play cards again?”

Suddenly, the screen went black, and a line of blood-red text jumped out: "Your account has been permanently banned!"

Old Wang was stunned, the spatula nearly falling from his hand. He rubbed his old eyes and carefully looked again, confirming that he wasn't mistaken. He quickly exited the live stream room and tried to log in again, only to see the message "Account does not exist." He became anxious and broke out in a sweat, immediately opening the backend to see what went wrong.

The backend notification was just a cold sentence: "Violation of platform rules, account permanently banned, no appeal allowed."

Old Wang was completely baffled. He had never said a swear word in his life, never done anything with a guilty conscience, so why was his account banned? He started to wonder if he had traveled through time or if the world had gone mad.

He tried calling the platform's customer service, but it was always a busy signal. He sent WeChat messages to other streamer friends, asking if they had experienced something similar, but no one replied.

Helpless, Old Wang had to turn on his computer and search for "live stream platform banning accounts without reason." The results were a mass of posts from "fellow sufferers" who had faced similar experiences. Some were crying, some were cursing, and some had even launched a rights protection campaign, but without exception, they all disappeared without a trace.

Old Wang began to recall his recent live stream content. He suddenly remembered that yesterday, during the live stream, he complained, “Why are potatoes getting more and more expensive?”

Could it be because of that sentence? Old Wang felt a chill run down his spine. He suddenly realized that everything in this world was controlled by invisible hands, and even an ordinary complaint could touch a forbidden switch.

In the following days, Old Wang wandered around the city like a ghost. He watched the bustling crowds on the streets, all holding their phones, either watching short videos or laughing in live stream rooms, as if living in a giant theater.

Old Wang suddenly laughed, a bitter laugh. He felt like a discarded toy, once given the power to perform but now ruthlessly thrown into a corner.

He started doing things he had never done before. He went to the park to sing songs, tell stories to children, and even danced square dance in the plaza. He no longer obsessed over live streaming, no longer cared about the cold numbers. He discovered that there were other possibilities in life.

Until one day, a stranger knocked on his door.

"Mr. Wang, hello, we are from the live stream platform customer service."

The person was dressed in a suit and was very respectful, making Old Wang feel a bit out of place.

"We would like to invite you to restart your live stream and award you the title of 'Most Down-to-Earth Streamer of the Year.'"

Old Wang looked at them suspiciously and asked, "Why? Wasn't my account permanently banned?"

The customer service representative smiled and said, "That was a bug during the system upgrade, and we have fixed it. Your live stream content is real, simple, and well-loved by many netizens. You are the platform's most valuable asset."

Old Wang laughed again, this time even more bitterly. He seemed to understand everything, yet he seemed to understand nothing. He took the contract they handed him. It was filled with various seemingly reasonable clauses, yet it was full of invisible traps.

He picked up a pen and wrote a line in the blank space: "These potatoes are really cheap."

Then, he tore the contract into pieces.