MEGC Chapter 7

The one speaking was a young woman in her twenties, while the one being addressed appeared far older—a stern lady with streaked gray hair, neatly tied back, dressed in a gray suit.

Her name was Chai Yuanlin, president of the Dreamweaver Association of the Exile Galaxy.

“Xiao Zhang, really? A newcomer’s unfinished short drama, and you want to recommend it to me?” Chai Yuanlin gave the light-brain a brief glance.

Xiao Zhang stuck out her tongue. “She’s one of our locals, you know.”

She had her own little motives. This newcomer had joined midway through the event, so making it to first place would be difficult. But if the teacher took a liking to her, the path ahead would be much smoother.

It was her first time doing such a thing, but the newcomer’s work had truly impressed her.

“Put it away.” Chai Yuanlin waved a hand. She had no children, and her relationship with this student was almost like mother and daughter, so her words carried a casual familiarity.

Xiao Zhang pouted, and Chai Yuanlin had to remind her, “Do you know why I don’t usually look at a newcomer’s first work?”

Xiao Zhang scratched her head. “Uh… because they’re unreliable?”

“Exactly,” Chai Yuanlin said. “More precisely, because most lack stability.”

In this era, Dreamweavers held a prestigious position—almost everyone dreamed of becoming one.

Some newcomers showed great talent with their first work, only to abandon the craft later on.

If you asked Chai Yuanlin, the greatest gift in this world wasn’t talent—it was passion. Only when you truly loved it could you keep doing it.

“I know, you’re going to bring up that former student again.” Xiao Zhang blinked innocently.

The teacher once had a student with exceptional talent, but no real interest in pursuing the path. Whenever the teacher mentioned her, it was always with regret.

But Xiao Zhang never knew what became of that senior sister.

Chai Yuanlin snorted. “At least you remember.”

Even so, she still mentally noted down the name: Jingyan Suoyouren.

After leaving her teacher’s office, Xiao Zhang continued to study Eldritch God.

The series was actually quite formulaic—or rather, “friendly” to new viewers. By this point, they could already spot the warning signs: Oh, the scare is coming next.

So… would they keep watching?

Of course!

Not only would they keep watching—they were hooked, unable to stop.

Xiao Zhang had already rewatched the first part three times. Now, she was nearing the end of the middle segment.

The female lead had left the old castle at midnight, heading into the deep sea, her destination unknown.

By dawn, the male lead awoke to find the bed still empty. Strangely, that day he washed up, ate breakfast, cleaned, watched the news… without a single hallucination.

Originally, the two of them were supposed to take their honeymoon photos that day. The photography team had long been booked.

Even the male lead sensed the approaching storm.

By noon, while tidying the garden after a night of howling wind and rain, he found roses and camellias decapitated, their crimson petals strewn across the ground.

The doorbell rang. He opened it, only to find—not the photographers—but a police officer.

Eldritch God finally introduced its third custom-modeled character:

A silver-haired, green-eyed woman gave him a sharp look, her gloved hand holding up a police badge. Her voice was cold: “Is your wife home? I need the two of you to come with me.”

And there, the middle segment ended.

Xiao Zhang, tense and immersed, cursed at the credits: “Ugh? That’s it again?!”

[Ah! Was that the human side’s force hunting the experimental subject—the Eldritch God?]
[Seems like it. The news already reported it, so the humans must be taking countermeasures.]
[The female lead’s been found! Will she be in danger?]
[Ahem, from the looks of it, you should probably be worrying about the man instead…]
[What kind of lab was that? Since when does biology create something this supernatural?]
[I think the “Eldritch God” wasn’t man-made at all… I recall an ancient rite: prayer and sacrifice. Maybe the lab wasn’t experimenting—they were summoning it, and it went wrong. Look at this screenshot, from the news…]

In the comments, hidden masters surfaced. One enlarged a frame showing the newspaper the male lead read: in the ruins of the lab, a faint, massive, broken blood-red sigil could be seen.

[Back in the previous Star Calendar, they believed the deep ocean was full of mysteries. From all the signs, it seems the female lead came from the depths?]
[The updates are too slow, five episodes at fifty minutes each is torture!]
[Who knew, last episode I wondered who would even like this, now I’m begging for more…]

Xiao Zhang hugged her light-brain, pacing anxiously like a cat on a hot roof. Truth be told, one reason she wanted the author to become her junior sister was to get early spoilers…

In just a few days, Shang Jingyan’s followers had grown from zero to ten thousand, now at about 13,000.

Votes were rising even faster. By her estimate, even with just the first two parts, Eldritch God would easily rank in the top ten.

The system had fallen silent. Since the short drama’s release, it hadn’t voiced any opinion—quiet as the most basic system panel.

It spoke faintly:

[Congratulations on your great success, but… this still doesn’t quite align with the mainstream. Let’s try to be more careful next time?]

Compared to its last outburst of “Don’t ever do this again,” this tone was far humbler.

X71 was mainly worried about its host being cursed out. It secretly read negative reviews every day, losing sleep over them.

Though the mainstream in this world was all romance and sweetness, human malice hadn’t improved much.

After the initial wave of praise, doubt quickly followed.

[Is this rigged? No way a newcomer’s first work gets this level of fan-made support!]
[Publicity stunt. And so rushed too, faker than the script itself.]
[I’ve seen “genius Dreamweavers” before, but this? I wouldn’t click that cover even if paid.]

And so on.

[They’re just harmless gripes, nothing to worry about. But you—] Shang Jingyan remained calm, but her thoughts were sharp.
[I’ve already completed my first mission. What do I get?]

In the novels she read in her past life, these so-called systems always had missions and rewards.

But Shang Jingyan didn’t believe she needed anything from anyone. Even without the system, her talent would have driven her to become a Dreamweaver in this world.

She hated the sense of being bound by it.

[Immortality, cross-world wealth, power… these are your rewards upon completing your final mission.]

The system added:

[And during your missions, you may receive minor rewards. For instance, this time: your body and spiritual power will be restored.]

As it spoke, a warm current spread from her forehead throughout her body. The scar at her temple began to itch and fade, and the turbulence deep within her soul vanished.

Shang Jingyan felt as though her feet finally touched solid ground. Only now did she truly feel “settled” into this body.

[I won’t interfere with your decisions, and missions won’t always be active. Shang Jingyan, I am X71. I hope we get along well ^-^]

It was the first time the system called her by name, even adding a tiny emoticon. For a moment, she almost mistook it for a real person.

[…Sure. Let’s get along, X71.] she said, still a little unused to it.

Eldritch God was beginning to gain traction.

Someone clipped the scene where the Eldritch God picked up a seashell for the male lead, paired it with the iconic love song from the series, and made a viral edit.

[God, this is so sweet! What’s this new movie? I’m watching it!]
[Sister prpr!]
[I love the sister—no, I love the seashell! Where can I watch it??]
[Help, I get goosebumps just hearing this song now.]
[LMAO who did this, so evil-hearted.]
[Looks like a great romance film, kudos to the editor!!]
[?? What are you talking about? The description looks normal, even R18-rated… isn’t it an adult romance?]
[Go ahead, watch it. You’ll never listen to that love song at night again… (demonic whisper)]
[Your R18 and my R18 aren’t the same~ (singing)]

The viewers of Eldritch God delighted in the mischief, luring more people in—just to scare them to tears.

…

V70 Star.

[There’s a rising newcomer lately, have you noticed?]

The interstellar population was mostly spread across three major star systems, with dark horse Dreamweavers emerging all the time. But to Guan Gaoyang, that meant only one person: Jingyan Suoyouren, his rival in the same event.

His friend asked. He replied:

[I’ve noticed. Pretty good, actually.]

[That momentum is fierce. Won’t she surpass you?]

Guan Gaoyang’s expression stiffened.

When he first saw Eldritch God, he hadn’t cared at all.

Who knew this newcomer would climb past the top 100 in less than five days? There were still ten days left in the event. Could she make the top three?

Or worse… threaten his first place?