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Chapter 32: So It Was You_l



Sunday evening, 7:45 p.m.

Wang stared at his computer screen.

The video was ready to go, and with just an upload, he could transform into Salary King, fueling the flames even higher.

His finger hovered over the “publish” button, a gesture that made Wang feel like a swordsman, and it excited him subtly.

After an afternoon of deep contemplation, he still hesitated, wondering if he was being too rash, possibly about to make a wrong decision; yet, he felt he had waited for this moment so long, almost forgetting what it felt like to have his blood boiling.

If he did it, he might regret it; if he didn’t, he’d definitely regret it!

“Men die still clutching their youthful fantasies,” Wang lamented.

Just as he was about to press the button, his business associate suddenly sent a message: “Mr. Wang, check out the major platform!”

Releasing his hand, Wang opened the major platform with confusion and went to B-site, which he followed, and then saw that they had simply posted a notification.

“We apologize profoundly for the accidental video-blocking of some accounts due to a system error. The technical issue has been resolved, and we offer our sincere apologies to the affected accounts, have deeply reflected, and ensure such mistakes will not recur.”

Without any jokes or an IT sacrifice ritual, the fewer the words, the more serious the issue, indicating that higher-ups had intervened.

Immediately logging onto the platform, Wang discovered that the previously blocked videos related to “Spreading Traditional Culture Starting from Me” had been restored, and the platform even created a special feature entry on the homepage as a form of compensation.

The abrupt reversal caught Wang off guard, and made him realize that unbeknownst to him, a silent battle had been waged and just as quietly concluded.

Those in the know understood that the so-called technical issues were nonexistent, but the platform had offered a way out, and there was no need for them to press the issue any further.

Everyone tacitly enjoyed this victory, the views on the related special topic videos doubled once again, bringing even more earnings to the likes of Mom of Pingping.

In addition, videos began emerging that explained why some people could play the game and others could not.

These explanations varied, but a few reliable ones posited that those who could continue playing certainly possessed either a strong will or some psychological flaws.

A strong consciousness could allow players to resist the horror suggestions in the game, while psychological flaws could overlook that horror, or even turn it into a form of spiritual healing.

Some psychologists began studying the game’s mechanisms, indicating they related to hypnosis and dream therapy, suggesting that the game had accidentally achieved this effect, with more detailed research required for further exploration.

This presented an opportunity to treat related disorders and a small miracle brought by the game.

And this miracle would further influence people’s perception of games, slowly altering the negative impression of them.

Wang also enjoyed a wave of dividends, his righteous speech boosting his followers once again, solidifying his position in the top tier.

“Mr. Wang, as compensation, you don’t need to delete the previous videos, and the earlier preferential terms will still apply. So let’s not talk about retiring from the internet anymore, it’s kind of terrifying.”

As his business associate had the right to see unreleased videos, Wang wasn’t surprised they knew about his desire to retire from the internet.

After exchanging pleasantries with them, Wang opened the chat box of Living Immortal, wanting to say something, but not knowing where to start.

Even though he had only interacted with them for a few days, Wang felt as if he had known them for a long time.

In the end, he simply typed: “The issue is resolved, contact me if needed.”

“Okay.”

Living Immortal replied simply and then went offline.

Staring at the darkened profile picture, Wang smiled, then let go of the mouse and looked at the night sky outside, feeling an immense sense of relief in his heart.

The next day, Monday.

After a busy Sunday, Fang Cheng Studio welcomed another exhausting Monday.

Inside the studio, Fang Cheng arrived the earliest.

He stared at the screen, frowning as he read the players’ comments on “Spreading Traditional Culture Starting from Me.”

“I’m afraid to play, but the stories inside are pretty good.”

“A seamless blend of folklore and horror, some stories seem heartwarming at first but turn out to be quite scary upon reflection, while some that appear terrifying initially are surprisingly warmhearted when thought about more.”

“I like the story of meeting a ghost in the dead of night, but I dislike that it happens on the ninth floor because I freaking live on the ninth floor!”

“I liked the story about ‘asking for rice’; if possible, I’d like to ask my deceased grandmother if there’s really a golden rice bowl under our old home’s manure pit. If there is, I’m going all in.”

The players’ reactions ran contrary to Fang Cheng’s intentions, the educational impact was not completely absent, but it was barely there.

Indeed, making games is so hard.

After shutting off the screen, Fang Cheng sighed, then went to water his Spirit Grass in the tea room on the same floor to change his mood.

The Spirit Grass planted on one side of the tea room, a verdant color, shone brilliantly in the sunlight after being watered, always ready to serve as a greeting gift for the employees and the natural fertilizer for Mr. Shen’s hair.

“Boss, you’re so early.”

Xiao Douzi drifted in like a mural adhering to the wall.

His dark circles were even more pronounced.

After preparing himself a strong coffee, he downed it in one gulp, then muttered, “This coffee is weak.”

“I think it’s better for you to take a day off and get some sleep,” Fang Cheng sincerely said, “Don’t worry, there’s not much to do today, won’t deduct any salary.”

“I don’t come to work for the money, but to admire your esteemed presence, boss. By the way, there’s this super scary horror game recently, have you played it, boss? It’s called ‘The Culture That Cannot Be Spoken.’ I watched it the whole weekend and was still watching before work today.”

“… No, I haven’t even heard of it.”

“I suggest you don’t play it, boss, just watch the videos, it’s thrilling. No good, I need to sleep a bit, I’ll adjust the values after I wake up.”

Watching Xiao Douzi leave, Fang Cheng once again contemplated whether there was a problem with his game development approach.

Not long after, Xu Qingling came into the tea room, yawning, then made herself a cup of coffee.

Leaning against the side table, Xu Qingling sipped her coffee lazily and said, “Boss, taking care of your leeks again?”

“It’s Spirit Grass… okay, it’s also a leek, but it’s a spiritual leek.”

“Still a leek though, just nicer to look at.”

“…You’re right. You look tired, didn’t rest well over the weekend?”

“Yeah, I went to see my grandpa and then listened to his stories from the past all day. What’s up, boss, why are you staring at me?”

Gazing at Xu Qingling, Fang Cheng suddenly had an epiphany, a flash of inspiration that made him instantly understand who should bear the consequences of yesterday’s attempt to defy fate.

So it was you.


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