Chapter 22: You're Still Quite Handsome

Fang Yue finished reading the post and was suddenly startled.

No way, my money tree won't last a month?

But after careful thought, Fang Yue realized the post actually made sense.

Know that everyone on this forum is a professional player who makes a living from gaming, and their level of game expertise is vastly different from that of ordinary players.

Among ordinary players, when they encounter problems or setbacks in the game, five out of ten will give up.

Of the remaining five who continue researching, four will still give up after failing to solve the issue.

The last one is a seasoned or dedicated gaming enthusiast, but even after deeply studying for ten days or half a month, they might still fail to resolve the problem due to personal limitations or game-related issues, ultimately giving up completely.

But professional players are different.

Professional players exist specifically to solve game problems.

By solving difficult challenges, they gain the ability to charge ordinary players for helping them overcome those obstacles.

Therefore, when professional players study games, they delve into them with extreme depth, detail, and constant, obsessive focus.

Ordinary players, no matter how passionate they are, simply cannot dedicate all their time to gaming and solving its challenges.

But professional players can devote all their time exclusively to studying games.

This is the advantage of professional players—and also their way of making money.

The most typical example is high-difficulty raid bosses.

Ordinary players lack the time and energy to fully understand raid boss mechanics, causing them to fail the raids.

Professional players, however, can step in to help clear raids—even solo them—and if the client pays, they'll even let the boss lie down and do nothing.

This is just one narrow example; within the game, there are also services like helping with hidden storylines, solving high-difficulty puzzles, and more—all researched thoroughly by professionals so ordinary players can simply buy the service.

Of course, there are some skilled players who research on their own and even outperform professionals, but they remain a rare minority.

As always, never pit your hobby against someone else's livelihood.

However, no matter how deeply professional players study a game, it only matters if ordinary players are willing to pay—otherwise, what's the point of studying a game if no one buys the service? Just go drink cold air?

So professional players always choose to join the most popular games.

Tengli Group's groundbreaking masterpiece, "Blue Sea," is clearly the hottest, most trending game recently, and every professional player is eager to make big money from it—yet Liang Bai Shui's post has doused their enthusiasm like a bucket of ice water.

The replies beneath the post are mostly skepticism and frustration, with some even deciding to quit the game and return to older games for gold farming, or waiting for the next big hit.

This reaction was unexpected by Fang Yue.

If such a mass exodus is happening even within the professional player forum, what about the ordinary player community?

Thinking of this, Fang Yue quickly exited Longwan Forum and opened the official game forum.

Compared to the closed, niche world of Longwan's professional players, the official game forum was bustling with activity.

Posts were flooding in at lightning speed, covering every imaginable issue: romantic entanglements, being killed by other players, dying to NPCs, or provoking strange creatures in the wild…

Some posts made Fang Yue admire their creativity—for instance, one player tried stealing a widow's underwear, got caught, chopped into two pieces, and his corpse is still displayed on the village gate, baking in the sun.

After a quick scan, Fang Yue realized he'd been overthinking things.

At this stage, ordinary players still have tremendous enthusiasm for the game and happily engage in reckless, self-destructive behavior.

Their only real problem, just like in the professional player community, is how to solve the lifespan issue.

Some players even posted protest threads demanding the official team open a lifespan recharge system or distribute lifespan bonuses so they can live a few more days.

They're practically begging to pay, but the official team has only opened the forum—no one manages or maintains it, let alone replies to posts.

The lifespan issue is undoubtedly a problem professional players are studying, representing enormous commercial potential.

Ordinary players merely complain about lifespan limiting their playtime, while professional players are actively thinking about how to solve it.

It's clear that whoever can reliably solve the lifespan problem will make a fortune.

Fang Yue felt his confidence return.

Time flew by as he browsed the forums, and he gained a deeper understanding of ordinary players' needs.

Don't underestimate this information—Fang Yue still plans to make money in the game, and these people are his future customers!

Glancing outside, he noticed the sky was turning dusk; he figured it was about time.

Now it's up to 【Night's Breath】 to save him.

He closed the forum and prepared to enter the game…

Creak.

Suddenly, the door next door opened.

Has Yuan-jie woken up?

After hesitating, Fang Yue put on his gaming watch and lay down on the bed…

"Ah-Yue! Ah—Yue—"

Bang.

The door burst open, and Yuan-jie's messy-haired head peeked in.

Her adorable big eyes scanned the room and locked onto Fang Yue, who hadn't entered the game yet.

"You just got off work? Perfect! I'll take a shower here—can you make me some noodles?"

Got off work…

Fang Yue couldn't bring himself to say his in-game character had issues—he'd actually done zero "work" all day.

"Okay, sure."

He put down the gaming watch, stepped out of his room to cook noodles, and soon heard the sound of running water coming from his room.

He added sausage and an egg, boiled the noodles, and Yuan-jie emerged with her hair dripping wet.

"So delicious! Your cooking's improved!"

…Sis, it's just instant noodles—there's no such thing as "cooking skill" here.

Fang Yue urged her to blow-dry her hair first, but Yuan Jie paid no heed, sat down in a chair, and started slurping her noodles with loud sucking sounds.

"Delicious! A-Yue, if you opened an instant-noodle shop, it'd definitely be packed!"

"This sausage—springy and chewy! So good!"

Once Yuan Jie had finished even the hot broth at the bottom of the bowl, she let out a long breath.

Watching Fang Yue tidy up the dishes, she propped her chin on one hand and giggled.

"A-Yue, now that I look closely, you're actually pretty handsome."

"Not just pretty handsome—very handsome!"

"Hahaha! So shameless!" After a bit of playful banter, Yuan Jie suddenly looked a little downcast.

"Honestly, sometimes I really envy you professional gamers—playing games at home and you can still make money.

Unlike me, working at a bar, flipping between day and night shifts, and still having to deal with the blind-date guys my family sets me up with.

The one I met yesterday was absolutely disgusting—if he had even half your looks, I wouldn't have had to rush off to work without finishing my meal."

Yuan Jie's train of thought jumped all over the place—one moment talking about professional gamers, the next dragging in blind dates.

But she's a girl, so it's understandable.

Fang Yue didn't pick up the thread, and kept washing the dishes.

Being a professional gamer isn't that easy either—plenty of people enter the scene for years and can't even afford their meals.

To make a living at this, you still need a bit of talent.

Just as he was thinking that, a cute little face suddenly leaned in from the side.

(End of chapter)