Chapter 51: Second Update

The viewers had a great time.

Watching a troll teammate in a regular match versus watching one in a fun competition built around intentional shenanigans were two very different experiences.

Pure entertainment, with a side of relatability. How relaxing.

With the "help" of these troll teammates, people's potential got ignited. A few players even pulled off desperate comeback plays.

Hype!

So much hype!

Never mind the reason for the hype—those few clutch comebacks reminded everyone of why they'd fallen in love with competitive sports in the first place.

So the tournament didn't just gain more "meal tickets"; clips got reposted by content creators, hit the trending pages of every major app, and gave people plenty to chew over.

It was appetizing, hilarious, and blood-pumping all at once. "The Golden Rice Spoon Cup: Amateur Edition" quickly became one of the most popular livestreams around.

Everyone booked in for the next round, and even pro-player matches were getting wave after wave of promotion. Reservation numbers kept climbing.

The more people watched, the more fired up the players got; the more fired up they got, the better they played.

A virtuous cycle.

At the DOH club.

Bankrolled by President Sang, DOH had been completely revitalized, and their recent scrims against other clubs had gone pretty well.

They hadn't won them all, but their overall strength had clearly improved—Coach Shao Fei saw it all.

Now that the Golden Rice Spoon Cup was blazing hot, the players' motivation had risen another level.

For these players, the number one productivity driver really was the belief that they could do it.

Oh, right—in about a month, summer vacation would start, and Peng Lejia, the high schooler held back by his dad, would come of age.

Should they bring him to live at the base?

Once he was an adult, there'd be no restrictions.

President Sang had only mentioned it once in passing at the start and never brought it up again, but the DOH side couldn't afford to forget.

DOH had made a decision—a decision that could repay President Sang!

They'd wait until the Golden Rice Spoon Cup kicked off!

They didn't ask for President Sang to be thoroughly pleased; they just hoped to give him a surprise.

……

Sang Yu spent two days going to offline internet cafés to watch the matches and found it quite fun.

The atmosphere of a crowded offline venue really was different.

Same with movies.

Back at his big villa, Sang Yu had set up a private theater, and sure, it beat an ordinary TV, but something was missing.

Sitting in a cinema, smelling the popcorn, heads bobbing in front of and behind you—yep, that was it.

So for movies and matches alike, he preferred going offline. Even among strangers, being part of a crowd created a vibe.

He had no idea what the principle behind it was.

Did humans need a designated atmosphere squad?

While the Golden Rice Spoon Cup proceeded in full swing, A Bite of the Immortal Realm Continent was also getting down to business.

For some time now, Sang Yu had been hard at work under his alt identity [Mist Wanderer], and the artists he'd hired were running in endless mode too.

The collaboration was highly efficient.

They produced the Linjiang District beneath the Aurora Immortal Realm, the Qingfeng Sect beneath Linjiang District, and a bestiary of the demon beasts raised in the sect's great canteen.

Not only were they edible—the entries covered both meat and vegetable dishes.

[Aurora Immortal Realm] was, after all, a sprawling mega-project. If Sang Yu had to nail down every single setting himself…

He'd give up immediately.

The first scenic spot Sang Yu chose was Linjiang's [Qingfeng Sect]—get that part done first. And even that wasn't simple!

Animals seek out suitable habitats, so demon beasts surely would too.

Therefore, creatures had to be designed to match the local terrain. He couldn't just make up whatever, okay?

(Sang Yu grumbled at himself for making that decision.)

(But thanks to a mild case of "OCD," once he'd started he couldn't bear to scrap it and redo it, so he gritted his teeth and kept making stuff up.)

Fine.

He pushed through.

Sang Yu could feel smug again.

As expected of him.

Seeing the artists' delivered work—words turned into images—he could hardly keep the corners of his mouth down.

Sang Yu had considered every angle and refused to "one-size-fits-all" the ingredients—

The immortal realm had mortals too!

Dishes that existed in reality could exist there as well. Perfectly reasonable!

As for the more innovative dishes, they could mostly be replicated by dyeing and carving the original ingredients (mainly radishes) into imitation form.

Look at this thinking—so thorough, so grounded, not the least bit flighty.

Sang Yu was practically falling in love with himself.

(In grandpa-grandma voice) Ah, back then we didn't have the means, so I had no choice but to study. Otherwise, I'd have made a fine businessman too.

……

The hashtag #ABiteOfTheImmortalRealmContinent went live.

An official account called [Aurora Immortal Realm] posted a teaser trailer, and [Yuankang], the food supply chain company, immediately reposted it.

No AI-generated shortcuts here.

—These days, to save budget, capital would use AI to assist with assets. Some of it passed; some of it was glaringly obvious.

[Aurora Immortal Realm]'s teaser was a 2D work, clearly not shoddily made. The frame rate was exceptionally high, buttery smooth.

The mist-wreathed Qingfeng Sect, cascading spirit springs, demon beasts raised on the rear mountain, vignettes of sect disciples and elders.

The camera followed a crane in flight all the way down to the foot of the immortal gate, highlighting the contrasting scenery of the immortal and mortal realms.

Finally, the lens dove into a marketplace exchange and froze on a long table laden with ingredients.

The demon beasts arranged on it were a few of the ones drawn according to Sang Yu's settings.

Words slowly surfaced at the center of the frame:

"The hearth-smoke of the mortal world, the flavors of the immortal realm. A Bite of the Immortal Realm Continent is about to set sail. We cordially invite you to join us."

After that came several slides of text explaining the event rules.

Though it was just a culinary competition, the teaser hadn't treated the food aspect as the only "big" thing to preview.

At first glance, you'd think it was an anime PV.

Every frame could serve as wallpaper.

It was only twenty-some seconds, yet everyone caught the scent of money power…

One thing nobody could figure out:

This [Aurora Immortal Realm] described itself as an under-construction xianxia scenic resort—so why was it holding a cooking competition?

[Before clicking in I was like, don't tell me this is someone's graduation project, someone's OC—and it turns out to be a tourist resort promo?]

[+1, all the jaw-dropping animation lately has been college students' graduation projects]

[That familiar scent of money… and it's called Aurora Immortal Realm. Is it connected to Aurora Entertainment? Will President Sang claim it?]

[Does nobody know? This resort is one of Aurora's subsidiary businesses]

[?]

[This was announced before—some of you probably just never scrolled past it…]

[Wait, China's first chain of xianxia resorts marketed on real-life RPG gameplay?!?!]

[China does have resorts where you can experience sword-riding flight, but I've never seen RPG—if I understand RPG correctly…]

[But the intro says attractions nationwide will interconnect… how many resorts are there in total?]

[…Help?! If it's really a xianxia resort… I want to play, I want to play, let me play!! Aaaah—!!]

[An RPG resort? You go in and become a player, take quests, kill monsters, level up? Is that possible?]

[Then can I pick a class? I want to be a sword cultivator, I want to cultivate the Emotionless Dao—as everyone knows, the moment you cultivate the Emotionless Dao, romance comes knocking]

[So: finalize the menu first, then build the resort, then build the restaurants. Ah, I get it! This is the legendary reverse construction]

[Honestly the order makes sense! Otherwise, are we supposed to write the menu after the resort opens?!]

[Menu?]

[Ah, right, I almost forgot this teaser is for a creative-dish contest—! If there are no restrictions, I can invent dishes too!]

[So when exactly can we play? Give us a straight answer… President Sang.]

[It's just a teaser? Have they even broken ground in the third dimension yet, wuwu]

[Suggest President Sang start a "cloud supervisor" livestream—I could watch a construction site all day, as long as I know things are moving!]

Excitement curdled into craving.

This resort model was just too "new"!

People didn't actually mind man-made attractions—as long as they had character, even a single photogenic angle would do.

And if this resort got built, you could wander the streets in period costume and experience the life of an immortal without even hunting for camera angles.

Most importantly, the two characters in front of [Aurora Immortal Realm] stood for President Sang.

Money was no object!

The resort had also "roped in" an event, letting everyone know that Aurora Immortal Realm was partnering with [Yuankang] to produce a chef variety show, currently holding auditions.

If you got to record the show, not only could your dishes be adopted—with royalties on future sales—but you'd also receive an appearance fee.

If you really got selected, that would be a life-changing windfall for an empty wallet!

Especially once the resort opened—royalties on your designed dishes. What an alluring word: royalties.

The bar for entry was low.

As long as you had a phone, a kitchen, and could edit video, you could participate.

For most Douyin folks, it was a frenzy of joy, megaphones blaring: [President Sang is finally showering cash on our village—!]

Before, President Sang had run who-knows-how-many giveaway lotteries on Weibo but never once glanced at Douyin.

Everyone grieved and wept. The kid really didn't like Weibo.

He'd download it and forget to open it.

Douyin was different.

No matter what you were doing, you'd end up there.

Look something up—huh, why am I auto-scrolling Douyin again?!

Search for a creator—I'm scrolling again?

Check out some gossip—I'm at it again?! What was I even trying to do?!

Everyone was simply more used to Douyin. The Golden Rice Spoon Cup was still trending there, after all.

Finally, the day everyone had waited for… President Sang waved a sleeve and left behind a sunset glowing with the stench of copper—money had arrived!

I may have no culinary talent, but I can create. Wait for me.

Before long, the first teaser's view count blew past a million, then ten million, and likes rocketed past four million.

A like-to-view ratio that high—if it were a sales campaign, the goods would've flown off the shelves.

The iron law of the internet: follow the trend.

Kitchens in many households welcomed people they hadn't seen in ages.

Gongyang Tao had been in a kitchen too—mulling over new dishes—though for a different purpose: sharing joy with the masses.

This move was part of the marketing plan, so the PR department was involved. Not only would company entries not take up prize slots, they'd also run giveaways sending ingredients to netizens.

Opening the comment section left him in awe. President Sang's move was brilliant…

A Bite of the Immortal Realm Continent, bundled with the nation's first real-life RPG xianxia resort—of course it would blow up!

So the reason [Aurora Immortal Realm] had never been officially announced was all for today.

One move from President Sang, two key points promoted!

The industry's assessment of President Sang was spot on.

[Yuankang]'s good fortune…

Had arrived!

·

Hearing these oh-so-correct praises, Sang Yu pressed his lips together speechlessly—though he'd somewhat gotten used to it by now.

To sum it up, it was the legendary "great scholars will naturally come forth to argue your case for you."

Once you had power, whatever you did, someone would find justifications for you.

I didn't announce Aurora Immortal Realm earlier (✗)

Aurora Immortal Realm simply didn't need promotion back then (✓)

It was built for playing, and it wasn't finished yet—why announce it? Before people could play, of course he'd just left it sitting there.

This wave was "idle asset utilization."

Since the effect was good, Sang Yu didn't quibble and started scrolling through the hashtag.

Some Douyin folks moved absurdly fast—the event was announced in the morning, and by evening they'd posted their "finished product" videos.

Only the final dish, no process footage.

These were, after all, original recipes. No matter how gross it looked, not showing the process was a form of protection.

Sang Yu saw plenty of half-hearted entries—some people figured rushing to the front gave better odds—but there were also ones that hit the theme dead-on.

Especially one mysterious stew.

A big pot of yellow, green, gray, and red mush. Mushy as it was, the swirls on its surface had ridges and edges.

Like mountain ridges. Or like a sand table.

Because it was made small, it gave off an inexplicable third-person perspective—as if a god were playing a sandbox game with the human world.

The creator named the dish "Chaotic Void."

Whoa. Pretty evocative.

Masters really did hide among the common folk!