Chapter Fourteen: Picking the Softest Persimmon

Yin Jian touched his nose and said, “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

Zhou Shun, emboldened by Yin Jian’s response, took a hefty gulp before starting, “I’ve been making games for so long, and finally managed to sign a contract, but…”

“It’s your first time signing a contract?!” Yin Jian exclaimed in surprise.

“Uh…” Zhou Shun’s carefully gathered emotions dissolved at Yin Jian’s unexpected question, leaving him flustered and his face burning. He hurriedly pulled out a fresh can, still unopened. “Here, Brother Yin, let’s have a drink first!”

Seeing Zhou Shun’s attempt to change the subject, Yin Jian didn’t press further. He quietly accepted the can, popped it open, and took a sip.

Huh?

Yin Jian glanced curiously at the can in his hand—it was juice.

Relieved that Yin Jian wasn’t prying, Zhou Shun began recounting his experiences over the past few days. When he got to the part where his operations manager threatened him into changing the game, Yin Jian couldn’t help but ask, “You really changed it?”

Zhou Shun nodded.

“And what happened then?” Yin Jian pressed.

“If it had gone well, I wouldn’t be here pouring my heart out,” Zhou Shun sighed. “At first, the game’s collection numbers were great—over two thousand on the first day. But since I made the changes, it’s barely reached three thousand.”

“I went to confront that damn designer, and guess what he said?”

“What did he say?” Yin Jian prompted.

“He had the nerve to call it normal, saying only the real players stick around. Like hell I believe that! The entire comments section is full of people cursing me out.”

After listening to Zhou Shun’s lament, Yin Jian slapped the table. “Listen, you can’t let these operations managers push you around.”

“The more you give in, the more they walk all over you. You know my operations manager, right?”

Zhou Shun nodded, sipping his juice.

“Whatever he says, I do the opposite. Just the other day, he tried giving me a regional recommendation without even telling me. Can you believe that?”

“Uh… you can’t let that slide?” Zhou Shun asked, uncertain.

“Of course not. I blocked him on the spot and told him if my game didn’t go live, I’d delete it. Guess what happened?”

Without waiting for Zhou Shun to answer, Yin Jian continued, “In the end, he put my game live anyway. I’m telling you, you want an operations manager who’s easy to handle.”

Yin Jian bragged without batting an eye. He’d done this sort of thing so often in college that it came as second nature—his mouth always ran ahead of his thoughts.

Zhou Shun believed every word, slapping his thigh. “It was my first time signing a contract—I just didn’t think of all that.”

“No worries. I’ll talk to my operations manager and see if we can get your game moved under his name.”

Zhou Shun was tempted, but hesitated. “Isn’t that too much trouble?”

“It’s nothing, just one sentence.” Yin Jian, already carried away, answered without a second thought.

“Thanks.”

A warm feeling spread in Zhou Shun’s chest. Maybe this was what friendship felt like.

“We’re brothers—no big deal,” Yin Jian waved it off, then asked curiously, “By the way, what exactly did you change in your game?”

He figured no matter what the changes were, the results shouldn’t have tanked this badly.

“Uh…” Zhou Shun stiffened, suddenly sheepish. “It’s a bit… hard to say.”

Originally, he’d thought about adding a nano simulation doll, but that clashed with his game’s style, so he switched to a bikini-clad ant queen instead. He knew it was a bit much, so he even added…

Zhou Shun shook his head, unwilling to revisit those painful memories.

Afterwards, Yin Jian and Zhou Shun chatted further, exchanging insights about game development. Zhou Shun, inspired by Yin Jian’s wild ideas, felt as if a door had opened in his mind and couldn’t wait to try them out himself.

Seeing this, Yin Jian didn’t stop him, smiling as he sent Zhou Shun off. Then—

“Slap!”

He smacked himself.

He just couldn’t break the habit of boasting. Once he got going, he couldn’t control his mouth.

“What now…” Yin Jian ruffled his hair. He wasn’t the type to make empty promises. Since he’d said he’d do it, he had to see it through.

...

At Qiyou Tower, a particularly easygoing operations manager was flipping through the game library with a blank expression. Ever since the incident with Yin Jian, Yu Jia had developed a resistance to this job. Still, her personality wouldn’t let her simply give up. Even if she failed in the end, she didn’t want to leave with regrets.

[You were mentioned in the contract group]

Seeing the sudden notification, Yu Jia frowned. She couldn’t imagine who would mention her in the group chat—after all, Yin Jian was the only designer she’d signed so far.

As for Yin Jian seeking her out? Ha! Not unless the sun rose in the west. That ill-tempered guy would never take the initiative.

She opened the group, and froze.

[You Forced My Hand]: Stone, I’m sorry about before. I need a favor—could we talk privately?

Yu Jia touched her forehead. Normal temperature. Not hallucinating. Did this guy finally realize his mistakes and want to make amends?

At that thought, the gloom on Yu Jia’s face vanished.

“Not bad, maybe there’s hope yet,” she muttered, moving Yin Jian from her blacklist to the whitelist.

‘Just say what you need. I don’t want to waste too much time.’

Yu Jia typed coolly, determined to reclaim her dignity.

[You Forced My Hand]: ‘I have a friend under Xuan Yu. I wanted to ask if you could transfer his game to your name.’

“Hmm!?”

Yu Jia stared at Yin Jian’s reply for a few seconds, then typed quickly:

‘You came to me just for that?’

She had thought he was turning over a new leaf, but apparently, she’d been too optimistic.

“This guy is a complete scoundrel!”

[You Forced My Hand]: ‘Yes.’

“…”

Yu Jia took a deep breath, baffled by the thickness of his skin. Truly, some people are unbeatable in their shamelessness.

She almost laughed out of frustration and quickly typed:

‘Fine. If you can reach monthly sales of ten thousand, I’ll help you out.’

She intended to use this as motivation. As awful as his personality was, his creativity was undeniable.

[You Forced My Hand]: ‘Thank you, Stone.’

?

‘Don’t thank me yet. Meet my condition first. Otherwise, don’t even think about it.’

[You Forced My Hand]: [image].jpg

Yu Jia opened the image Yin Jian sent, and her eyes widened.

It was a screenshot of last month’s royalty payment.

[June total sales: 9871]

Staring at the number, she suspected the image was doctored. She hurriedly opened the backend for “My Little World.”

There she saw:

“My Little World” daily sales:

July 1: 2897

A game that only made a little over a thousand on launch day, and now she was being told it sold nearly three thousand in a single day? This was absurd!

ps: The status still wasn’t updated—though the contract was delivered at 1 p.m., such efficiency deserved a bad review!