Chapter 8: The Challenge of Achievement

I Really Didn't Insult Anyone The Sea of Ink 2529 words 2026-03-20 06:44:41

After moving into his new home, Bai Renzong spent an entire day tidying up his room and then turned his thoughts to his next video. At the moment, he was just starting out, so in the early stages, he planned to release videos as quickly as possible to rapidly accumulate a wave of followers and expand the number of videos on his channel. Once he had built a solid fan base, he would then slow down and focus more on quality.

Therefore, his current priority was to decide on the content of his next video as soon as possible.

For now, Bai Renzong still had a few decent materials at hand. He had plenty of backup options for movies and games, but coming up with content for food videos was more troublesome. Filming in many restaurants required the owner’s permission, and as an unknown creator who didn’t go out of his way to curry favor with the proprietors, why would anyone bother with him? That was also why most food video creators on D Station always gave positive reviews: if you regularly criticized a dish, you’d get blacklisted by restaurants, and then you wouldn’t be able to make any more videos.

So, in the early stages, Bai Renzong planned to do food reviews of takeout. This way, he wouldn’t have to worry about obtaining permission to film in restaurants, and it was something his current budget could handle.

At the same time, Bai Renzong decided to take a look at the achievement challenge tasks within the app. For example, the “God’s Tongue” food challenge required tasting certain specified ingredients. Some were fairly ordinary, like cilantro, oregano, or sage; others were rather extreme, such as cicada pupae, fried scorpions, or grilled grasshoppers.

Besides food achievements, there were also challenges for games and movies—such as “collect all trophies in fifty games” or “watch one hundred poorly rated movies.” These achievements didn’t really conflict with making videos; he could gain popularity while working toward the achievements.

However, when Bai Renzong opened the Connoisseur app, he suddenly found several new “daily challenge” tasks. For example, under food tasting, there was now a challenge to “taste and review a portion of fried chicken under twenty yuan and another over eighty yuan.” Completing this task would earn him a hundred thousand popularity points.

In addition, Bai Renzong noticed that the base popularity reward for daily check-ins and posting reviews had increased from fifty thousand to sixty thousand. Presumably, this was because his Connoisseur level had risen to level five.

“So that’s what the experience points are for...” Bai Renzong mused. After advancing as a Connoisseur, the base popularity reward for daily check-ins also increased. Moreover, each category—such as food or game reviews—would unlock special “challenge tasks” upon leveling up, granting extra popularity rewards.

“This makes things much more convenient—going forward, I’ll just follow the app’s challenge tasks for extra popularity,” Bai Renzong thought.

But today, he decided to take a day off and adjust his biological clock. On Sunday, Bai Renzong began preparing materials for the video he would release on Monday.

Until he found an assistant, he wasn’t planning to continue making food videos, so for the time being, he’d focus on game and movie reviews, while steadily accumulating the ingredient count for the “God’s Tongue” achievement, hoping to unlock it soon.

Once he had the God’s Tongue, he would be much more confident in his food critiques.

The most user-friendly aspect of the achievement challenges was that previous data counted as well. For instance, Bai Renzong had already tasted more than forty ingredients on the list, which saved him quite a bit of time.

But it was only upon checking that he realized he had already reached “16/50” for the “go on fifty blind dates” achievement! That meant he had gone on sixteen dates with different women—and the most terrifying part was, he hadn’t succeeded with a single one...

During the day, Bai Renzong ordered some of the spices required for the God’s Tongue challenge online, then spent his time gaming and recording footage. By evening, with the material ready, he began post-production and recording commentary.

“Hello everyone, today I’ll be reviewing a game called ‘Below Zero.’ This is a new DLC for the game ‘Subnautica,’ released a few years ago,” Bai Renzong began his narration.

A game review video was different from a walkthrough; it needed to be concise, aiming to clearly present his views in under twenty minutes.

“In ‘Subnautica,’ we had the Cyclops, a massive, single-pilot submarine with a dozen storage lockers, and you could even build grow beds for food—essentially a mobile base. But in ‘Below Zero,’ all we get is a small, clunky sea truck. It’s a ridiculous step backward...

“In fact, players have already pointed the way for development: bigger vehicles, greater diving depth. Why didn’t the developers do this? Because it’s troublesome. Vehicles like the Cyclops are prone to bugs, so for the sake of convenience, the developers just built everything you need into the new vehicles. But in doing so, they killed the greatest selling point of sandbox exploration games: freedom...”

Once his narration was recorded, all Bai Renzong had to do was edit the video according to his commentary, then overlay the narration, and the job would be done. However, this video required much more work than his first, and after producing three videos in one intense week, he was exhausted. He decided to leave the rest for tomorrow.

“Sigh, time for a break,” Bai Renzong muttered, pushing open his bedroom door.

It was only now that he remembered he had already moved into his new place. Living alone in a two-story apartment was a bit lonely, especially late at night; the emptiness of the house felt rather uncanny.

But Bai Renzong had long grown used to solitude. He stepped out onto the balcony. The summer in Beichang City was stuffy and hot, but his mood was light and content.

Despite his busyness, he enjoyed this sense of fulfillment. It made him feel he was no longer wasting his days, and unlike before, when he tossed and turned at night, he now slept soundly every evening.

“Hoo...” Bai Renzong took a deep breath, then returned to his room to shower and sleep.

The next morning, at eleven, he went to Willow Pavilion to get his three meals for the day.

“Why do you look so scruffy today? The girl I wanted to introduce you to will be here soon,” the proprietress scolded, hands on her hips.

“What!? Today? Sister Xiaoxiao, you should’ve told me in advance,” Bai Renzong frowned.

“Well, you didn’t come yesterday, did you? How was I supposed to tell you earlier?” the owner replied, dissatisfied.

Bai Renzong sighed. “That’s true... Well, whatever. I’ll leave it to fate. All I can do is shave, anyway.”

Just then, a taxi pulled up outside the shop.

Han Jiayi got out in front of Willow Pavilion, dragging her suitcase. She took a deep breath, feeling a surge of emotion—she hadn’t been back in a long time, and only her hometown gave her a sense of security.

But just as she was about to push open the door, a familiar voice came from inside: “One daily set meal today, and a mapo tofu set to go.”

The moment she heard that voice, Han Jiayi’s temper flared. She would never mistake that voice—it was that damned troll! Fate had brought him right to her door. Today, she would make him pay for everything!

At that, Han Jiayi flung the door open with a loud bang.

(Happy New Year, everyone! Cast your vote for recommendations and monthly tickets to sweep away the gloom of 2021!)