Chapter 153: Survey Questionnaire (Revised)

Yang Yixie's voice was cool and crisp, already beginning to contemplate the possibility of jam‑packing chopsticks into Sun Yu's nostrils.

"What do you mean?"

Sun Yu didn't react right away; the smile on his face hadn't fully faded.

"Chop once, then chop again, endless, right?"

Yang Yixie explained with a blank expression, and didn't forget to add another strike.

"I think you're more persistent than those elementary kids who chase the iron puppet and keep hacking at it."

Sun Yu laughed even louder; after finally stopping, he wiped away the tears of laughter and pushed the red‑braised pork the waiter had just placed in front of Yang Yixie toward him.

"Alright, alright, brother, eat up! I think you're just exhausted lately—helping your mom, worrying about graduation, plus staying up late... having a little hallucination is normal."

Yang Yixie stayed silent, picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of meat and put it in his mouth.

The meat was soft and tender, salty and fragrant in moderation, but as he chewed it tasted oddly like chewing wax.

Was it really a hallucination?

At the instant the little girl fell, he was above the child's head and saw a slender strip composed of green pixel dots.

He chewed the surprisingly tasty red‑braised pork, yet his gaze involuntarily drifted again to the girl who was holding a teddy bear, taking small bites of ice cream.

Above her head, now there was nothing.

Only soft hair strands and the halo of light cast by the restaurant's ceiling lamp.

"Hey, still watching?" Sun Yu tapped the tabletop, lowered his voice, his face still bearing a mischievous smile.

"Keep staring at me, and I'll really call the police."

Yang Yixie withdrew his gaze, pushed his glasses, wondering if perhaps he'd just been playing too many games.

"Look at you," he retorted evenly.

Yang Yixie, while berating Sun Yu, glanced again with the corner of his eye at the boy playing on his phone.

The pixelated character on the screen was running through a village; it seemed he had just looted a vegetable field and was now planting crops.

"Wasting time like this? Didn't you see the clump of straw nearby? Villagers would handle that themselves."

Yang Yixie found the boy's waste of time incomprehensible.

He picked up the water cup beside him, took a sip of ice water, the cold liquid sliding down his throat, slightly easing the unease in his heart.

The meal ended amid Sun Yu's banter and Yang Yixie's absent‑mindedness.

When settling the bill, Sun Yu rushed to pay, calling it "a farewell for the brother about to set off on a long journey," but in truth Yang Yixie knew he was also considering his own need to care for his hospitalized mother.

Some things truly need not be said outright.

Stepping out of the restaurant, the sky had already darkened; it was just past seven o'clock, the sun had set behind the mountains, and people were gradually emerging onto the streets.

"Where to now?" Sun Yu fanned the air with his hand, "Going home is too early; how about hitting a game at the internet cafe?"

Yang Yixie checked his phone's time and shook his head.

"No, I have to go back and clean the house, then start streaming early; I still need to go to bed earlier."

"Fine, then we can game together when we have time later."

Sun Yu didn't push; he was just heading to the capital, not refusing to return to this small county.

"I'll just take a taxi back; you really don't need to see me off?"

"No need, it's only a few steps away."

The two part ways at the restaurant entrance; Yang Yixie walked farther away, his expression gradually softening.

Yang Yixie strolled home, digesting as he watched the slowly receding street scenery.

Pedestrians, vehicles, shops... everything looked so real, so normal.

That Blood Bar never appeared again.

All of this was undeniably real.

He shook his head, temporarily shaking off the chaotic thoughts.

No matter what this world is, life must go on.

He still had a mother to care for, and a forthcoming, perhaps ordinary but his own university life.

At that moment, his phone in his trouser pocket vibrated several times in succession.

Thinking it might be a message, Yang Yixie casually pulled out his phone.

He lit the screen; on the lock screen, besides a few trivial push notifications, a notice from the game "Wasteland Era" stood out.

【Dear player, thank you for your continued support of the game "Wasteland Era"! We sincerely invite you to participate in this game experience questionnaire; your valuable feedback will help us create a more perfect gaming experience!】

If it were a normal day, Yang Yixie would most likely swipe it away or fill it out perfunctorily.

But now, perhaps the absurd thought that "the world is a game" still lingered in his subconscious; he tapped the notification with his finger.

The questionnaire interface loaded, its style matching the game's post‑apocalyptic wasteland theme: dark tones, with rusted and damaged UI design.

The first part consisted of standard questions: rating satisfaction with various game aspects from one to five stars.

Yang Yixie slid his finger, absent‑mindedly checking boxes.

"Graphics? Fine enough; mobile games can't demand too much, especially pixel games."

"Sound? Adequate; the spider‑chase battle felt good, hope for more later."

"Story? Smelly, overly long, and riddling; players have to hunt for the text themselves."

"Combat feel? Similar to a bullet‑hell game? When using the trial card before, he was pretty hyped, but reaching that level of development takes a lot of time."

"Huh, suddenly feels like the 【Modification】 level is the most important thing!"

Soon he scrolled to the final question, an open‑ended text box that read:

"Please leave any improvement suggestions or ideas for 'Wasteland Era' (within 500 characters)."

Seeing this box, Yang Yixie's eyes behind his lenses narrowed slightly; the previously scattered expression tightened, his finger hovered above the screen as if brewing something.

The next second, his thumbs flew across the virtual keyboard beneath the phone, the speed so fast it almost left a blur.

【First, the phone screen is too small, making controls inconvenient and the field of view limited, severely affecting immersion and high‑difficulty operation experience. Strongly recommend releasing a PC client and providing a desktop installation package.】

He finished this line with virtually no pause and immediately began typing the next.

【Second, the map is massive and loading of connected areas is slow; traversing the map is also tedious. Strongly recommend adding a map teleport function to reduce meaningless AFK State map‑running time consumption; a player's time is also time.】

Although the map design is indeed exquisite, after the initial novelty he truly doesn't want to keep traversing the map!

He became more engrossed as he wrote, as if pouring the dissatisfaction accumulated over the past few days into this tiny text box.

His fingers fluttered, listing one suggestion after another, with clear logic, direct wording, even a hint of impolite sharpness.

As he wrote on, he even began venting about the NPCs' AI IQ, the unclear quest guidance, and lighting bugs in some scenes......

Until the phone emitted a soft "beep", and a prompt popped up on the screen:

"Input content has reached the character limit."

Yang Yixie only then stopped abruptly, still half‑in‑thought as he stared at the massive block of suggestions he had written.

He skimmed it roughly and found that, because he wrote so passionately, many later parts contained numerous interjections and repeated emphases to convey strong emotions.

"Tsk." he muttered, a bit annoyed.

Then, he began reluctantly trimming those redundant words, striving to squeeze more substantive content into the limited character count.

After cutting and revising, refining the sentences, he barely fit within the character limit.

Sigh, didn't curse enough.

Looking at the finally filled text box and the densely packed "Improvement Suggestions," Yang Yixie let out a long sigh, as if he had accomplished something huge.

He clicked the "Submit" button.

The questionnaire interface displayed "Thank you for your participation!"

He exited the questionnaire, locked the phone screen, and only then realized he had been standing there stupidly typing all along.

No, he has to go home.