Chapter 35 034 Whoever dares to invade shall be praised endlessly!

Chapter 35: 034 Whoever Dares to Offend Will Be Met with Rave Reviews!

The gorgeously dressed eunuch, under the control of Raccoon Lord, weaves through the Forbidden City.

Each time he collects items and gets promoted, the eunuch's robes become more exquisite as his rank rises, making the player feel that life is looking up.

After countless previous lives, having been brutally silenced by the Golden Armor Guard, Raccoon Lord resurrects by watching an ad. This time, he deliberately slows down and reappears at that spot. As expected, the Golden Armor Guard has already left, leaving only "an inconspicuous mound." When the player passes by and nudges left, they can step on it to unearth it and collect it into their backpack.

It is a "red bellyband" embroidered with a man's childhood nickname.

Later, when offering routine items to different consorts, the player can choose to hand over the "red bellyband," triggering different storylines, but most players' eunuchs die as a result.

Through the storylines triggered by giving it to different characters, the player learns that the name on the red bellyband is the childhood nickname of Lord Chen, the most favored consort across all six palaces. And if the player chooses to give it to Lord Chen, it also gets him killed.

On the screen, a dialogue bubble appears above Lord Chen's head:

"How dare you bring this before me? Do you think this can threaten me? Ridiculous."

"In this vast Forbidden City, making a little eunuch disappear is far too easy."

Then the screen goes black, and the player sees, from the eunuch's first-person perspective, a circular sky—Lord Chen's servants push him into a well and then drop a boulder on him to finish him off.

After a series of deaths, Raccoon Lord, prompted by the live comments, discovers that if he simply holds back and keeps the 'red bellyband' until he levels up to at least the rank of Junior Supervisor (fourth rank, upper grade), and then gives it to Lord Chen,

a dialogue bubble appears above Lord Chen's head again, but the content is different:

"...Heh."

"What impressive methods you have, Eunuch."

"Since you chose to hand it over to me, you must prefer having a friend over making an enemy. Very well. That Chief Eunuch Gao is too full of himself—that rootless wretch always trying to seduce Her Majesty. I've long disliked him. You, on the other hand, are more plain and honest, which is more likable."

Raccoon Lord: "..."

Raccoon Lord: "Who are you calling plain and honest? Who do you think you're insulting!"

Seeing the streamer getting tilted, the bullet comments overflow with joy and start discussing the plot.

— The eunuch ranks in *Eunuch Run* are based on the Sui and Tang dynasties' official system, with "Chief Eunuch of the Interior" being the highest rank and "Junior Supervisor of the Fourth Rank, Upper Grade" the next. In Lord Chen's previous dialogue, he hinted "making a *little eunuch* disappear is far too easy," pointing out the player's rank level, but the dumb streamer didn't pick up on it.

"Actually, this kind of design is common in games, but I didn't expect a small game's writing to be so detailed..."

"Why does it have such detailed mechanics! Now I want to play it!"

"Li Bao, don't end the stream! Play through the whole game today and collect all CGs!"

Amid the unending praise in the bullet comments, Raccoon Lord gradually gets carried away.

Seeing the unusually high popularity of the bullet comments, as a streamer, he naturally has to seize this wave of hype. He decides to work overtime on the stream—collecting all CGs? How hard can it be!

This grinding session passes in the blink of an eye—three hours gone.

"I'm only one ending away. The last level—I'll beat it in one life!"

Raccoon Lord had originally planned to use *Eunuch Run* as a warm-up game, but he ended up spending three hours on it because he got hooked on collecting CGs and exploring the story. During that time, some viewers couldn't resist and searched for the game themselves, then shared their experiences with the streamer to speed up his collection progress.

"It wasn't easy!"

When the eunuch in the Chief Eunuch's robe reaches the last level and delivers lychees to Empress Tianyang at the Qianqing Palace, Raccoon Lord is almost in tears.

Finally!

He's about to meet the Empress and reach the pinnacle of eunuch life!

At this moment, he forgets all the creative ways he died at Empress Tianyang's hands earlier, feeling only the joy of being second only to the Empress and above ten thousand others.

He scrambles and crawls, presenting the plump lychees to Her Majesty.

The cute chibi figure in dragon robes shows a bubble: "You dared enter the hall without straightening yourself up?"

"You have committed a breach of etiquette before the Empress, and have been beaten to death by Empress Tianyang."

Raccoon Lord: "..."

Damn it, you dog empress, just wait.

He sheepishly has to replay the last level, this time paying extreme attention to cleanliness, especially avoiding the consorts' little pets. Although they sometimes don't directly cause game over, they inevitably leave paw prints on the player's clothes, reducing cleanliness and causing you to be punished for indecent appearance.

When he steps into the Qianqing Palace again, Raccoon Lord no longer feels the joy from before.

Only fear and hatred for that damn empress.

He really wants to rebel!

The chibi Empress Tianyang again shows a bubble: "You've done well. You may go."

Raccoon Lord: "Of course, who do you think I am...? Wait? That's all? No praise?"

In traditional games, when players overcome countless hardships to reach the ending, they are supposed to get a celebratory CG of world peace, cheers from the people, and marrying a princess.

He, as a eunuch, wouldn't dare to ask to marry a princess.

At least the empress should praise him!

Just one phrase, "You may go"?

That's all?

Just as Raccoon Lord is feeling disappointed, the final CG slowly plays.

In the image, Empress Tianyang on the dragon throne lazily enjoys shelled lychees fed by a male consort, with a look of carefree pleasure.

This leaves Raccoon Lord momentarily dazed.

"I, the streamer, seem to have been used as part of the game's setup."

In those three hours, which felt neither short nor long, he explored the Forbidden City, unlocking different storylines as he parkoured through the levels. Most of them he couldn't change—a maidservant from Changchun Palace, bullied by the head nanny, sobbing in a corner; he wanted to help her, went to Changchun Palace early, but was chased away by the overpowering nanny, along with the maidservant. In the eighth level, passing through the Cold Palace, he encountered an abandoned husband happily farming on his own; he invites the player to eat organic vegetables, but by the tenth level, he had already starved to death in the Cold Palace, and the once lush patch of vegetables had become barren.

The cute chibi art style softens the sorrowful tone of the writing.

It attracts viewers to want more storylines without being so off-putting that they don't want to play.

After unlocking all CGs, Raccoon Lord, with a hint of melancholy, appreciates his achievements with the viewers in the live room.

If you zoom in, you can clearly see the brushstrokes in the original art. To save time, its "detail" is not high, but when viewers appreciate a painting, they look at the overall picture—they don't zoom in to check if the engraving on a character's fingernail is perfect.

Abandoning the pursuit of detail instead makes its overall look more bold and graceful.

"I really want to download it to use as wallpaper. Is it only available via screenshot?"

Raccoon Lord futzed around for a hot minute before remembering that "Eunuch Run" was basically just a mini-game.

It didn't even have an option to download wallpapers, leaving players to rely on screenshots.

But relying solely on screenshots? The quality came out way too pixelated.

"What a shame," he lamented, heartbroken.

"Streamer, what are you even whining about? You barely take up any screen space anyway—you always die in some corner."

"Even the ending is just a close-up of Emperor Tianyang, lmao."

"I already DM'd the devs to drop the high-res images! And who's the artist?"

"Today's clips are gonna be fire. Can't wait for the Y-station comments."

"Honestly, 'Eunuch Run' has a decent plot, but so many things make no sense! It's all so confusing."

Raccoon Lord complained.

Next thing, the bullet comments chimed in:

"'The Royal Post' and 'Cold Palace Farming Diary'—both released on the same day by the same company and set in the palace—could digging into those give more content?"

"One person is literally begging the streamer to play more!"

"Two people are begging!"

Sigh...

Glancing at the number of concurrent viewers in his stream, Raccoon Lord really wanted to keep playing.

But his lower back couldn't take it anymore. So he had to ask his viewer overlords for a day off, promising to definitely come back and stream more of Jiuwu Studio's games in the series.

At first, other streamers in the industry, seeing him streaming a new, unknown game, messaged him on WeChat out of curiosity, asking if he was shilling.

But once they saw the organic traffic pouring in, they shut their mouths and secretly started streaming "Eunuch Run" too!

That's just how the internet chases clout.

If you have no traffic, you have to pay influencers, streamers, and celebrities to bring that traffic to you.

But when a game becomes interesting enough to naturally pull in random viewers and create hype, then the influencers, streamers, and celebs scramble to jump on it to look cool and relevant.

While Raccoon Lord was resting, Jiuwu Studio's mini-game spread like wildfire, like a spark on the prairie.

...

Originally, the employees of Jiuwu Studio were all wondering where they'd work after the studio closed.

But in a flash, in just one afternoon, the game suddenly blew up.

The retweets, likes, and comments under the official Weibo account were so many it looked like they'd bought bot traffic.

The operations lead immediately stood up in the office and yelled, "Who among you bought bots? I clicked in and saw those accounts are all outrageously active real users. How much would even one of those cost? Do we have that kind of money?"

The marketing assistant also popped up: "Didn't buy any! Haven't bought any! They're all real people!"

Everyone looked at each other, their faces flushed with excitement.

The reason? Nothing else.

For this palace series of games, even though Song Tianyang had crammed in a lot of her own personal quirks, most of it was left to the employees' creativity to finish—especially the copywriting team, who just threw all their own kinks into a giant pot, and somehow none of it got cut.

These five mini-games were like flowers they'd raised by hand.

Even though limited development time and budget meant they couldn't be perfect in every way, they were still little masterpieces crafted within those constraints.

As long as players were willing to stop and look, they'd discover the fun in them.

And now that a streamer with millions of followers had given them a shout-out, the games' "mom and dad" were naturally overjoyed.

But...

The employees all agreed the real MVP was Her Majesty and the mysterious artist behind her.

Everyone's gaze shifted to Song Tianyang.

"Your Majesty, how should we ride this wave of traffic?" Sun Xiaohui stepped forward to ask first.

"I already have an idea,"

Song Tianyang said, "First off, let's update our official site. Players can enter the redemption code hidden in the corner of the CG they unlock in-game to download high-resolution original art directly from the site. That way, we keep the game's file size from getting bloated and also drive traffic to our official site, letting different games cross-promote each other."

"Second, I've asked the artist to start a Weibo account and share her painting process on it. From now on, 'Si Moling' will be our official artist."

"Next—"

Song Tianyang suddenly got stuck.

After all, she had never been taught how to manage a game.

The two suggestions came from her belief that since the quality of the art was one of the main reasons the game blew up, the artist shouldn't be left in the dark.

She had also just urged He Yuan to come up with the stage name Si Moling.

Seeing her get stuck, Lu Yuanye kindly took over: "Your Majesty believes the game will keep gaining popularity. What we need to do is urgently hire backend devs to keep the servers from crashing, and also secure ad partnerships."

Song Tianyang nodded vigorously: "Yes, that's exactly what I was about to say."

Sun Xiaohui cupped her hands in salute: "Your Majesty truly has foresight!"

"Of course, of course."

Song Tianyang shamelessly took the praise.

...

As for He Yuan, who had been pushed by her sister to create accounts on Weibo and Xiaodigua (a Chinese social platform), and to share her painting process on both, she was feeling very unsure of herself.

Was her art really that good?

Sure, He Yuan knew she wasn't bad.

But growing up in her environment, she was well aware that the praise she received was because of her grandfather, He Mingyi.

With that premise, all the compliments came and went like the tide, never really sinking in. She had observed coldly how Mrs. He managed her and her older brother—every achievement could be quantified, and either of their resumes could win them the title of Top Ten Outstanding Youth at a glance.

The pseudonym Si Moling was taken from the Tang Dynasty official titles "Si Ji" and "Si Yan." She was skilled in oil painting, ink painting, and calligraphy, so the name was fitting, nothing special.

Jiuwu Studio's official Weibo account @'d her.

"This @Si Moling is our exclusive artist, Master Si. All the CG for the palace series of mini-games are drawn by the teacher. Next, the teacher will share the drawing process and some concept sketches with everyone. Please support original content!"

Under the official post, there were also many comments from people who were driven to rage by Emperor Tianyang's actions, cursing the game designers.

But here, at He Yuan's side, fans only had praise for the artist.

"Only a Chinese artist can use ink-wash style to depict the palace with such grandeur and tension! Is this really the work of a newcomer?"

"Incredible work, teacher! I'll always support you!"

The words of praise left He Yuan unsure how to respond.

Besides the compliments, the most common comment was—

"Please share your brushes!!! Teacher, please share your brushes!!!"

This left He Yuan a bit confused.

Are brushes really that important?

But she still shared them.

There were also those asking about the font materials she used for the calligraphy in the illustrations, and she honestly replied: "I couldn't find any commercially available fonts I liked, so I wrote them myself and scanned them in."

It wasn't just the players who loved it; this phenomenal newcomer also attracted many artists to organically share it.

Beyond admiration for the art, many artists also shared, enthusiastically explaining to players the deep foundation and inspiration behind He Yuan's original works.

He Yuan checked again and again: her Weibo only posted her own artwork.

On the internet, she wasn't a member of the He family, nor the impostor daughter.

She was just herself.

An unprecedented joy filled her, yet she didn't know whom to share this happiness with, so she sent Song Tianyang a WeChat message: "Sister, I'm glad my work didn't disappoint everyone at least."

Song Tianyang replied: "I already told you your paintings were good, but you didn't believe me."

Song Tianyang: "Like I said."

Song Tianyang: "The emperor's word is law!"

He Yuan: "[Kitten giggling GIF]"

He Yuan was overjoyed. When netizens learned that the calligraphy in the original artwork of "Eunuch Run" was all hand-written by her, they demanded more. Thinking of these netizens as potential clients for her sister, she felt she couldn't offend them, so she dug through her studio, finding calligraphy practice pieces she'd never shown the He family, took photos, and shared them with everyone.

Each piece elicited praise from netizens.

At her age, even with talent, it might be presumptuous to call her a master calligrapher.

But beauty is all about comparison.

In each photo of her calligraphy practice, next to her powerful or graceful calligraphy, there were three crooked, dog-stamp-like characters—

Song Tianyang!

It was so uniquely ugly, with such a strong presence, that it sprawled boldly next to the beautiful calligraphy.

"Is this the teacher's watermark? It looks kind of ugly..."

"I wanted to download the teacher's calligraphy as a wallpaper, but there it was—huge Song Tianyang on my screen—the pain, who gets it..."

"Just died over twenty times by Emperor Tianyang's hand in the mini-game. Thought I'd take a break on Weibo, and get sanctioned by Emperor Tianyang again. #crying #crying"

"Baby, it looks like a Qianlong has entered your house."

At this point, everyone assumed it was a game Easter egg.

But the Jiuwu Studio employees were on edge, fearing netizens' comments might anger the Emperor—if she took it seriously and argued with players, it wouldn't be good. Yet seeing her calligraphy mocked by netizens, they also felt a little bad for her.

Surprisingly, Song Tianyang didn't get angry but rather laughed, pleased: "Hmph, my handwriting may be ugly, but I can still put my name on top of beautiful calligraphy! Someone have Xiao Lu carve a seal with my signature. It'll save me the trouble of writing it every time."

The employees stared wide-eyed.

Is she really going to get a seal made of that!?

What is there to be proud of?

Who gave the Emperor such confidence?!

Lu Yuanye said with a smile: "After the Emperor makes the seal, first stamp it on my abs."

Lu Jinzhou couldn't help chiming in: "Only you have abs? Showing off? The Emperor can stamp it on my—"

Before he finished, Lu Yuanye covered his mouth and forcibly silenced him.

"No problem."

As Song Tianyang agreed happily, the employees finally understood why she was so confident.

She told He Yuan to ignore those who said her calligraphy was bad: "In this world, you don't have to survive, but you have to have a shtick. I'm fine being ridiculed for the people's amusement. Besides, you've invested far more time and effort into your calligraphy than I have. I'm perfectly fine, and I'm even getting a signature seal to promote my calligraphy."

If someone offered to sign her up for calligraphy classes now, she wouldn't take them.

It's too grinding.

He Yuan: "Okay, I'll listen to you, Sister."

He Yuan: "When you have the seal, stamp it on my face first ^3^"

Song Tianyang glanced at the system panel.

The flattery scores of the Lu brothers and He Yuan were almost full.

One hundred wasn't their cap; it was just what the system could show.

The game's explosive popularity needed time to spread and build.

Jiuwu Studio also uploaded the game to Steam, with a DLC costing six yuan, letting players revive without watching ads. If using the free version, they had to start from the first level each time they died.

The six-yuan price point is the standard first-charge threshold on major gaming platforms for good reason. People who didn't mind the cost would spend six yuan for a better experience.

With the existing player base, games like "Eunuch Run" gained steady traction on Steam.

But the next day, they faced a sudden wave of negative reviews.

After reports come in, Steam officially removes abnormal reviews, but this sudden surge of negative ratings still made Jiuwu Studio’s games look terrible, with their ratings tanked.

The mastermind behind it seemed to harbor a deep grudge against Jiuwu Studio, spending big to use a bunch of accounts to tank the score.

Jiuwu Studio had never been through anything like this.

Even back when they were San'geng Studio, their games didn’t need paid reviewers to give bad reviews—their rep was already mediocre!

While they were still reeling, another group of players caught on to what was happening.

Not the players of *Eunuch Run*.

Nor those of *Royal Post*.

But rather:

"How can the territory of the Han Dynasty be taken by a mere game about eunuchs? Brothers, charge with me! Whoever dares to invade, I swear we’ll get it to overwhelmingly positive reviews!"

"What’s this game? How dare it compare to my eternal trash? Left a positive review."

"Hold up, everyone—*Eunuch Run* and *Three Kingdoms O* have reincarnated. Now it's called 'I really dare not make up any more, just substitute it yourselves.'"

"Restore the Han—it’s our duty!!!!"

The mastermind seemed unfamiliar with the domestic gaming community's ecosystem, actually managed to push the rating lower than *Three Kingdoms O* by a mere 0.1 points. Even that tiny gap was enough to set off *Three Kingdoms O* players. Only people who’ve been truly screwed by pay-to-win and terrible games understand which game truly deserves a "mostly negative" rating—the one that, through all the ups and downs, still stands strong.

Jiuwu Studio’s players were just as confused.

They didn't think the game was trash!

How did they wake up and find the rating so low? Something was definitely off—it has to be jealous competitors.

People are naturally rebellious. If it was just a small game, no big deal. But if someone sneaks around trying to trash it, then sorry—it’s gonna get hyped way above what it deserves.

Song Tianyang did nothing. She didn’t even use her big announcement. She woke up and found her game blowing up on Steam with overwhelmingly positive reviews.

Steam stepped in to deal with the negative reviews and crack down on rating manipulation.

The *Three Kingdoms O* players all breathed a sigh of relief: "The Han hasn’t fallen—we can chill. Retreat!"

Only He Jianshen, who had paid out of his own pocket to flood Jiuwu Studio with bad reviews, was almost having a stroke from anger.

Where’s the justice?

In his experience, negative reviews and tons of smear campaigns could destroy a streamer.

But in the gaming world, why doesn’t it work?

Had he wasted his money again?

As He Jianshen's mind boiled with rage, his assistant cautiously came over: "Boss He, there's one more thing about *Eunuch Run*... I’m not sure if you want to know..."

"Spit it out."

He Jianshen threw his phone onto the sofa in disgust, not wanting to see any more good news about his sister.

"I... you'd better see for yourself, boss..."

With reluctance, the assistant handed over his own newly bought phone.

On the screen was the ranking of the overseas version of TikTok.

At the very top of the list was the translated name of *Eunuch Run*.

Author's note: 1. Some details about the game's release process have been artistically modified, since Yueyue has never worked on games, all for the sake of dramatic effect.

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2. Controversial content has been given pseudonyms, unrelated to real games.