Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Game? Welcome to Yun Zhou Continent!

The world never lacked people with time to waste.

A gimmick as blatant as “start with a broken sect” could still hook someone, even if it looked like a scam from ten miles away.

“Game companies have lost their minds,” Zhou Xiao muttered as she clicked. “They’ll run any ad now. A cultivation full-dive game? And from a developer nobody’s ever heard of? It’s definitely a cash-grab. And they dare call it no-wipe before it’s even launched?”

Zhou Xiao was exactly the kind of person who would still test it just to be sure.

She’d been on this forum for years. Whenever a new game dropped, she tried it with the same attitude: whether it was crap or a masterpiece, she wanted to taste the salt for herself.

The site loaded into an old-world background that looked strangely elegant. Mist, cloud banks, a sect plaque half-hidden in the haze. The writing on it wasn’t any script Zhou Xiao recognized.

The visuals were detailed enough to be convincing. They must have paid for real artists.

Which made sense. If the bait didn’t look pretty, how could it fool anyone into clicking?

An “Important Notice” popped up immediately.

“1. This game is a cultivation world. There is no forced storyline.

2. Main quest: help Sect Master Song Jiu Lai strengthen the sect and freely explore Yun Zhou Continent. If Song Jiu Lai dies, the game ends immediately.

3. No revive system. If you die, your character is considered dead. Your ID will be banned for a period of time. To play again, you must join a new recruitment event.”

Then, in highlighted text:

“Treat Song Jiu Lai as the most important woman in your life.

This game is extremely free. Do not offend any NPC.”

Zhou Xiao stared. “What the hell is this?”

Even if she was the heroine, shouldn’t they at least show her character art? Whether they wanted to attract guys or girls, a decent face was basic marketing.

But this site offered nothing except a ridiculous wall of warnings.

“No story. No real introduction. Just this…” Zhou Xiao let out a cold laugh. “If this isn’t a scam, I’ll twist my own head off and kick it like a ball. Once I get in, I’m writing a ten-thousand-word one-star review.”

Because it was first come, first served, she filled out the recruitment form immediately and got a test slot.

Even stranger: the game had its own server port. You could link any VR device and download it locally.

But the port wouldn’t open until two days later, unless recruitment filled early.

So she couldn’t play yet. She could only wait.

After she submitted her info, another highlighted warning appeared:

“Port open time: October 1, 2024, 20:00-21:00. After that time, the channel will close. Even with qualification, you will not be able to join this test and must wait for the next opportunity.”

Zhou Xiao almost laughed out loud. “Are you serious? Even logging in has a time limit? Are you afraid someone might actually play your game?”

She searched for the developer.

Nothing.

“Longevity Sect?” she murmured. “There’s not even an official website. This really is starting to smell like a scam.”

Zhou Xiao refused to eat crap alone. She tossed the recruitment info into her usual gaming chat group.

Back-Then Tigerquake: “Huh? What game is this?”

Back-Then Tigerquake: “Holy shit, they even claim full-dive? Which trash company is running another scam?”

Pro Game Reviewer: “Hahahahaha. Companies are shameless. They make a lousy VR game and dare call it ‘virtual,’ huh?”

Jing Bao Tian: “I’m bored. I’ll take a look.”

Back-Then Tigerquake: “Hey, big shot, aren’t you reviewing V Clan’s new game lately?”

Jing Bao Tian: “Already did. I quit after ten minutes. Pure garbage. The controls were awful, the story was a pile of shit. I don’t know how V Clan can still release something this bad in the year 9042. It’ll die the moment it opens. Calling it now.”

The group chat lit up. Before Zhou Xiao realized it, the recruitment number quietly climbed past ten.

She was pleased. Even Jing Bao Tian was coming along for the ride.

Jing Bao Tian was a big shot in the gaming world. After a single test, he could usually predict whether a game would blow up or crash and burn. On Weibo he was a famous influencer with a solid reputation, and he almost never took ads.

He criticized far more than he praised.

The only two games he’d ever praised back then were both blockbusters now.

Plenty of games tried to get him to test the waters before launch. He didn’t take every offer.

Normally, you filled out a first-round test form and got a download link immediately. This broken sect nonsense made you wait until recruitment filled up.

Zhou Xiao watched the number stall around fifteen and felt secondhand embarrassment. She tossed the link into a few more groups, determined to drag more people in to “taste” it with her.

Then she went downstairs to buy something to eat.

On Yun Zhou Continent, Song Jiu Lai stared at the recruitment number like it was the last candle in a storm.

The System said dryly, “Stop staring. It won’t fill any faster.”

Song Jiu Lai didn’t look away. “I’m not worried about later. I’m worried about now. If the first test can’t recruit fifty people, I’m wasting my slots.”

“The channel can only open once,” the System reminded her. “It links qualified soul-consciousness, and you only get one hour to prepare.”

“And after that?”

“If you want to open it again, you need to expand enough to accept new people. Otherwise it wastes energy.”

Song Jiu Lai clenched her jaw. Of course she wanted all fifty.

She’d even considered having the System cheat and push an ad on Weibo, but the System said it didn’t have the energy and told her not to spend it on anything extra.

So she could only leave it to fate.

“Sect Master!”

A clear voice snapped her out of it.

A Wu, the Longevity Sect’s herb-collecting attendant, hurried over. “Senior Sister Su from the Flying Sparrow Sect came to deliver something. She said what you wanted is ready.”

Song Jiu Lai sprang up. She looked at A Wu, the only living person in the sect besides her, and spoke with grave sincerity.

“A Wu. Starting tomorrow night, I need you to do something important. People will come to our sect. From then on, you will be their Senior Brother. Listen carefully, and I’ll tell you what to do.”

After she finished drilling him with instructions, Song Jiu Lai received fifty brand-new puppet dolls from Su Huan Li.

Puppet dolls could work, but they consumed spiritual energy continuously. If they weren’t replenished, the bodies would rot quickly.

At least that meant the players would have bodies that could breathe, eat, drink, and live like normal.

Two days later, Song Jiu Lai’s gamble paid off.

Zhou Xiao, fueled by the idea that she couldn’t suffer alone, dragged enough people in to fill all fifty slots.

If Song Jiu Lai had known what Zhou Xiao did, she would have made her the sect’s Senior Sister on the spot.

A genius was a genius.

At home, Zhou Xiao settled in with her VR headset, ready to deliver a review soaked in malice.

The moment she put it on, her phone clock flipped to 8:00 p.m. Exactly on time. A perfect hour for night owls.

Her vision went black.

Then a strange mechanical voice spoke directly into the dark.

“Do you voluntarily enter the game, experience life on Yun Zhou Continent, and follow Sect Master Song Jiu Lai’s arrangements?”

Zhou Xiao waited for a button prompt.

Nothing appeared.

So she tested it. “I agree?”

“Agreement confirmed. Welcome to Yun Zhou Continent. You will begin a brand-new life!”