Chapter 107: An Unintended Success

After having dessert in the afternoon and seeing Han Jiayi off, Bai Renzong finally began to get down to business.

First, he uploaded the business cooperation video with Licorne, then edited a showcase video for the pet mod of "Survival of the End Times."

Since it was just a mod showcase, merely introducing its features, the video was simple to make and required little post-production. The short video, under five minutes, was edited by Bai Renzong himself and released immediately.

Next came the wait for the audience’s response to the mod.

During this time, Bai Renzong didn’t waste a moment. He began editing the video of last night’s duel between Yang Hua’s “Heart of the Forest” and Han Jiayi’s “Rainbow.” He intended to take his time and make it as good as possible.

Though continuous editing was a bit tiring, the thought of having a backlog of videos accumulated over half a month lifted his spirits: it meant that for the next two weeks, he could easily gather material without stress.

Just as he was about to go downstairs to stretch, the door clicked open, and Han Jiayi stepped inside.

“I’m back,” she said with a small smile. “Are you hungry? I’ll start cooking right away.”

Curious at his absent-minded expression, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“It just feels like you left not long ago and you’re already back...” Bai Renzong replied.

“I only left around three o’clock and came back at seven,” Han Jiayi smiled gently. “Wait a bit, the food will be ready soon.”

“Hmm...” Bai Renzong nodded, feeling a sudden wave of relief upon seeing her return. He followed her into the kitchen.

The girl tidied herself up briefly, then efficiently pulled ingredients from the fridge to start cooking.

“I’ve loved you more than just a few days, but I think of you many times every day...” she hummed happily as she prepared the ingredients, clearly in a great mood. Bai Renzong couldn’t help but be infected by her energy, his fatigue vanishing.

“Don’t you ever get bored cooking every day?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“No, happiness comes from doing what you love,” Han Jiayi said earnestly.

“It must be wonderful to turn what you love into your work,” Bai Renzong smiled.

“Yes,” Han Jiayi laughed brightly, continuing to hum as she cooked. “Do you miss me? Or do you, like me, only make friends with loneliness...”

Soon, Han Jiayi had prepared two dishes and a soup: fish-flavored shredded pork, mapo tofu, and tomato egg soup.

“I didn’t make it too spicy. Try it,” she said with a smile, scooping some mapo tofu for him.

Bai Renzong blew on it, then ate the tofu with rice. The hot tofu mixed with the spicy sauce and steaming rice made him break out in a sweat immediately. Yet the soft tofu and thick sauce blended with the rice created a rich flavor, compelling him to take another bite, then another, one after the other.

Who says Chinese cuisine lacks complexity?

“Delicious!” After finishing the meal, Bai Renzong was drenched in sweat, as if he had just run ten kilometers, but felt refreshed.

“I’ll wash the dishes with you,” Han Jiayi said, rolling up her sleeves.

While washing up together, Han Jiayi asked, “Do you think today’s schedule works?”

“Today’s schedule?” Bai Renzong asked curiously.

“Like… getting up for breakfast, having lunch a bit earlier, enjoying afternoon tea, and then waiting for me to come back and cook dinner for you,” Han Jiayi blinked playfully, testing the waters. “Is that okay?”

“...” Bai Renzong stared at her for a long moment before asking, “Why?”

“To keep your biological clock a bit healthier,” Han Jiayi said seriously. “You won’t go hungry either.”

Bai Renzong raised an eyebrow, suddenly touched, then shy: “Hmm… thank you.”

“You…” Han Jiayi’s cheeks flushed as she stammered, “I mean, since you’re helping me improve the menu, I can’t let you exhaust yourself, right?”

“Hmm...” Bai Renzong nodded and handed her the last bowl. “This is the last one.”

Han Jiayi hurriedly took it, then clumsily changed the subject: “So, how’s the mod doing?”

“I don’t know yet. I just uploaded it this afternoon,” Bai Renzong replied. “Let’s check it after showering.”

The two sat at the computer. Bai Renzong logged into the game and opened the Creative Workshop to look at the comments under his pet mod. The response was impressive — by now there were already hundreds of replies.

Some praised the mod’s quality; others reported bugs. Most comments came from Bai Renzong’s fans, but a few were from foreign players and general users.

“Mu Mu, come help me translate,” Bai Renzong waved.

“There are even foreigners?” Han Jiayi peeked and then gave him a sharp look. “You called me Mu Mu!”

“Because the mod’s popular, it’s listed as a ‘hot mod,’ so foreign players can see it too,” Bai Renzong explained. “What are they saying? Should we gather their feedback and improve it for your friend?”

“Let me see...” Han Jiayi carefully read through the foreign comments, then suddenly raised an eyebrow, pointing to one message: “Hey, Old Bai! Look at this comment! It’s from the developer!”

Bai Renzong looked down and saw that the English message was indeed from “4king” studio, the developer of “Survival of the End Times.” The studio was just four people, which explained why the game took so long to make.

“What did they say?” Bai Renzong asked eagerly.

“They said...” Han Jiayi pursed her lips, then smiled, “They want to buy our mod and add it officially into the game! They want to know if we’re interested in discussing details!”

“Seriously? You’re not joking, right?” Bai Renzong frowned, staring at her.

“Really! Look!” Han Jiayi pointed to the message.

Using his rusty English skills, Bai Renzong confirmed what she said was true.

“Well, that’s an unexpected stroke of luck...” he muttered, scratching his head.

In fact, it’s not uncommon for developers to buy mods. The most famous example is DayZ: originally a mod for Arma, its quality impressed the developers so much they bought it and turned it into a standalone game.

Similarly, RimWorld has incorporated several mods as official content.

So this kind of thing is fairly common, especially for small indie games.

Of course, the developer wasn’t a big name, so the price offered wasn’t high.

After a brief discussion with the developers, Bai Renzong learned they had been planning pet-related content but hadn’t figured out how to do it. His mod fill the gap perfectly, needing only some polishing. Hence, they wanted to buy it.

As for the price... the little four-person indie studio could only offer $3,000.

Bai Renzong didn’t create the mod for money and understood their constraints, so he happily accepted.

The plan was to give $1,000 to Han Jiayi’s friend and put the remaining $2,000 into the studio’s shared fund.

Originally, Bai Renzong wanted to give it all to Han Jiayi’s friend, but she was humble and declined.

The difficulty of making this mod wasn’t high; what the studio really valued was the concept proposed by Bai Renzong and Han Jiayi.

He guessed the developers had long wanted to make a pet system but lacked a clear plan.

After all, mods are optional, but official updates force all players to use the content, which is risky.

If the mod hadn’t received such widespread acclaim, the developers wouldn’t have bought it.

Actually, Bai Renzong’s original intention was just to test his promotional skills. This was truly an unexpected success—though sometimes, careful cultivation yields blossoms as well.

Next time he promotes a game, he’d be much more confident.

“That’s quite an unexpected gain,” Han Jiayi stretched and smiled after the talk with the developers.

“Not surprising,” Bai Renzong replied. “Survival of the End Times is mainly a single-player game; its multiplayer mode is still in testing and very unstable, full of bugs and disconnections. Players feel lonely in this post-apocalyptic world, so having a pet companion fulfills that desire.”

“I see…” Han Jiayi mused, pursing her lips. “I think the key is that this mod doesn’t break the game balance. Many popular mods reduce difficulty drastically, but this one doesn’t.”

Bai Renzong nodded. “The world is very practical. If this mod weren’t popular, do you think a small studio would spend money to buy it?”

“In just half a day, over four thousand downloads. That’s impressive...” Han Jiayi glanced at the subscription count, then turned to Bai Renzong. “By the way, isn’t that all thanks to your promotion?”

“...You could say that,” Bai Renzong nodded without modesty.

“Well then...” Han Jiayi’s eyes lit up with an idea, smiling excitedly. “Our game ‘Desecration’ is releasing a new DLC in a few days. Why don’t you review it? Consider it a business collaboration!”

“No need for business collaboration; I’ll do it anyway,” Bai Renzong yawned. “I like that game a lot. When the new DLC comes out, I’ll definitely review it. Don’t worry.”

Seeing Han Jiayi eager to continue, Bai Renzong tapped her forehead playfully. “It’s midnight. Time to sleep.”

(Thanks to Mr. Unreliable, Worthless, and Jinroh for two monthly votes each, and to Zero Score Artist, Yi Xin Xiang Dao, and Eternal Life Holy War for their votes.)

70,170 words