The holographic game Jianghu had only been in closed beta for half a day, yet it was already generating considerable buzz. The forums teemed with active players posting threads.
[Location: Central Plains Little Mulberry Village. The NPC Auntie Li here makes steamed white flour buns that are to die for—two copper coins each. Popularity: 350]
[Dog Planner, come out and get beaten! Why did I spawn in the Imperial Palace? A bunch of creepy old eunuchs were eyeing me like they wanted to sharpen their knives on me. A scholar may be killed but not humiliated—you guess what happened in the end. Popularity: 4700]
A crowd of players loved the drama and fanned the flames. Linghu Xiao seized the momentum and posted his own thread, which skyrocketed to the top of the trending hot list: [Heart Washing Manor’s supreme martial art, Pushing Heart Palm—terrifyingly powerful!] [God Chef NPC not only drops top-tier recipes but teaches you a hundred ways to catch fish!]
In the video, Chef Shao fished with effortless grace, hauling in a fish every three minutes. The water swirled into massive vortexes like cutting-edge special effects, unleashing a sky full of plummeting fish. It sparked waves of skepticism and heated comments.
“This rendering quality— you sure that’s in-game footage and not a promotional CG? Post the real video; we can all get rich together.”
“That was badass! One palm thrust out, and the lake surface exploded. What ultimate technique is this? I want to learn it!”
“I’m dropping everything—heading to my hometown river to duel those mutant fish!”
“This game nails the historical details. Jiangnan City was indeed known as the land of fish and rice on ancient Earth. Notice the spawn window for rare river fish? Dawn from 4:00 to 6:00 a.m. and afternoon from 1:00 to 3:00 p.m. There’s real science here… Fish are most prone to oxygen deprivation in the morning or afternoon, so they surface then.”
“No wonder those cold-blooded Innsmouth folk (those fish-featured sea people) always come ashore at night for deals on the rocky beaches. Damn, this game’s details are insane.”
“Talking about Innsmouth folk pisses me off. I live in a coastal town, and one day my sister got lured away. Ten months later, she gave birth to a monster baby. If interstellar law didn’t make killing infants a capital crime, I’d have strangled the thing. Those monsters just prey on defenseless star residents.”
“You’re derailing the thread, folks. It’s a game—don’t drag in social issues.”
“I don’t think this NPC is just fishing. I’m an interstellar angler myself, with 50% ancestral deep-sea mermaid diver genes, and even I can’t fish that smoothly. He’s gotta have a magnet or something; he’s using martial arts to suck the fish in!”
Players chattered endlessly. Then the scene shifted to Sichuan Pepper Little Bunny and Linghu Xiao cradling a small porcelain bowl. Their expressions of utter bliss amid ravenous devouring made a horde of netizens hungry just watching. Not to mention the recipe book radiating purple light with flowing multicolored glows, complete with step-by-step cooking instructions—it blinded everyone with envy. As their mouths watered like waterfalls cascading three thousand feet, they griped: “A chef who casually drops top-tier recipes and seems totally ordinary? I barely recognize the words ‘ordinary’ anymore!”
The game’s popularity exploded overnight. Netizens didn’t find it exaggerated; they just figured Jianghu was a game with exceptional realism and freedom.
With virtual helmets and full-dive pods flying off shelves across Starnet, every game studio chased the dream of “game oases”—virtual worlds indistinguishable from reality. Full sensory feedback like birdsong, fragrant flowers, and mouthwatering flavors wasn’t out of reach anymore.
“I’m stunned. There were three thousand beta slots left just now—how are they all gone?”
Netizens shut out of the beta fumed, while in-game players grew anxious too.
The 007 System was the incarnation of Jianghu‘s game will. It welcomed the surging popularity, but it had underestimated the impact of Linghu Xiao’s post.
The game had only been in beta for half a day, with no guides on Starnet yet. Players had to explore plots, encounters, and mechanics through trial and error, fueled by boundless enthusiasm for the unknown. But nothing withstands comparison.
These players respawned in obscure hamlets or bustling streets, haggling with all sorts of shady characters as they chipped away at beginner quests like “plow the village headman’s field for an afternoon,” “help Auntie Li find her lost kid,” “retrieve Widow Wang’s long-lost betrothal hairpin,” or “climb a tree for bird eggs for the kid at the village gate.”
They toiled in starter villages, braving wind and rain.
Everyone had started on equal footing, but now two players had pulled ahead. They had made first contact with mysterious martial arts—one even earned special favor from a high-level NPC, snagging a purple recipe and unlocking the Nine Major Cuisines along with the chef profession.
Not to mention the footage Linghu Xiao accidentally captured: pavilions, towers, and winding corridors amid scenery as picturesque as West Lake. Any frame made a stunning high-res wallpaper.
By comparison, how could the others not feel the pressure?
They immediately pulled up the world map to hunt for Heart Washing Manor. Thousands of players clutched their maps and surged toward Jiangnan City over mountains and rivers.
…
ID: Five-Colored Mottled Black was a closed beta tester—and a professional game reviewer to boot.
He had entered purely to test the game, with no fuss over his avatar’s looks. He spent just ten minutes on character creation, settling for a generic face before diving in. That let him soak in more local flavor than Linghu Xiao or Sichuan Pepper Little Bunny. Finding solo play too lonely, he serialized his playthrough on the forums.
Five-Colored Mottled Black: [Spawned in a rundown temple wearing rags for newbie gear. After roasting a beggar chicken for an old beggar, I officially joined the Beggar Gang as a probationary disciple. Quick lore dump: The Beggar Gang is powerhouse material. Beggars lurk on every street corner; no gossip escapes their ears! Even as a plain level 1 nobody, joining them wraps you in familial warmth. No matter your background, we’re all brothers.]
[Daily quest: Beg along the streets to hit level 2.]
[While begging, I spotted a Blue-Clothed Swordsman standing anxiously on the street. His dashing, striking looks screamed non-standard NPC. I set down my chipped little beggar bowl and asked if there was any way I could help. Here’s the key!]
[Take notes, folks—this game’s hyper-realistic. Sniff out a quest or encounter? Go proactive! Initiative spawns the story!]
[After he spoke, I unlocked my first guided quest: Find the long-missing Hero Hua, a jianghu favorite. Rewards are juicy—100 silver taels, a fresh outfit, and 50 favorability from all of Famous Sword Villa.]
[You newbies to ancient Earth games might not get it, but as a reviewer, I smelled drama brewing. Following classic tropes, I’m betting Hero Hua met a bad end! I told the Blue-Clothed Swordsman: If no sign of him in three days, we’ll head to Jiangnan City together to investigate…]
His thread had started as a solo monologue.
Aloof netizens ignored the “no-name” Jianghu, too snobbish to comment and leaving Five-Colored Mottled Black posting in the void.
But from this post on, he vanished. Appetites whetted, netizens waited left and right, then caved: “Then what? Then what?”
Five-Colored Mottled Black saw the messages.
[Hold up—finishing dailies. Begging netted fifty coppers and a sliver of silver today. Sharing my beggar tips for fellow Beggar Gang players. If a couple passes, don’t hug the guy’s leg; dudes are heartless skinflints. Target the lady’s leg for better coins. And for kind-looking female NPC passersby, open with: “Have mercy, beautiful miss. Pity a poor soul—little me hasn’t eaten in three days.”]
[So many kind souls in Jiangnan City. Ten minutes panhandling filled my bowl to bursting. Of course, I wiped out once. A red-clad swordswoman tossed me a silver sliver, then kicked me, calling me a lazy bum: “Fit as a fiddle and you beg instead of working?’ Good thing I dialed down pain sensitivity; it barely stung. For her stunning looks and generosity, I almost wished for more kicks.]
[Serial chasers, hang tight—queuing at the bun shop. These buns are heavenly.]
[Oh right, where were we? The quest? …Gotta eat crow here. Years reviewing games made me arrogant, thinking I could predict the devs’ every twist. I was wrong this time.]
[Hero Hua turned up safe and sound. But the system marked my quest as failed anyway.]
[What’s worse? I have no clue why.]
[Because I hustled dailies and roast a mean beggar chicken, I stood out among the probationaries. A Nine-Pouch Elder took notice, praised my “singular root bones” for martial arts, and promised to teach me the supreme Dog Beating Stick Technique if I served him dutifully till his dying day.]
[I rejected him on the spot and grilled him: Dogs are so cute—why beat them? If learning, make it Heart Washing Manor’s domineering Pushing Heart Palm! That palm is epic!]
[I can’t describe the Nine-Pouch Elder’s face darkening like the bottom of a pot, but I decided to venture out, beg my way along the roads, scrape together travel funds, and head straight for Heart Washing Manor.]
The thread blew up. The 007 System had figured Heart Washing Manor’s “three kittens” couldn’t stir much trouble, but now it wallowed in deep self-doubt.
