blogombal Chapter 855: Writer's block, writing some slice-of-life content.
Chapter 855: Writer's block, writing some slice-of-life content.
Xiao Guizi’s live broadcast room.
The night was as dark as ink, and the city lights outside the window gradually went out. Only a desk lamp in her room was still on, illuminating the slightly tired face in front of the screen.
The time in the lower right corner of the computer screen quietly skipped past 10 p.m., but her gaze remained fixed on the Genshin Impact 2nd Anniversary preview livestream that had just ended.
"That's it?"
Two words slipped lightly from her lips, yet they fell like a heavy stone into the silent air.
There was no anger or intense emotion in his tone, only a sense of emptiness, like the sudden drop after long-held expectations had been raised too high.
It's like traveling a long way to keep a promise, only to find no one inside when you open the door, and just a yellowed old menu on the table.
This nearly hour-and-a-half-long preview livestream was supposed to be a celebration, a carnival, because the next version is Genshin Impact's second anniversary.
So tonight should have been a festive night for players and the development team to dance together.
After watching the whole thing, Xiao Guizi felt it was just like a company annual meeting: the process was rigorous, the segments were complete, and the atmosphere was right, but it lacked any interesting soul.
The opening is the familiar formula—the story trailer slowly unfolds, and a new map emerges amidst the interplay of light and shadow;
Next came the event information, with a flashy interface displaying a series of limited-time gameplay modes; then came the character entrance animations and skill demonstrations, all presented in one smooth motion; interspersed with a few sentences about optimizations and system adjustments…
Everything felt so familiar, as if it weren't a "second anniversary special edition" but rather a "normal preview with enhanced skin".
Well, it's not entirely unchanged.
At least this time there was more of a "sense of ceremony". All the voice actors appeared to send their blessings, their voices gentle and sincere. Some had slightly red eyes, while others smiled and made heart shapes with their hands. That moment truly warmed the hearts of many veteran players.
There was also a band playing classic background music, and when the piano keys flowed with the melody of "Liyue", the comments section was flooded with "DNA moved";
The final anniversary skit, directed and performed by the production team, had a script so stiff it resembled a hastily cobbled-together student assignment, but it was still an attempt to make everyone laugh.
But the question is—can this content really satisfy the players' eagerly awaiting expectations?
The voice actor's blessing was truly touching; it was a connection of emotions, the weight of ten years of unwavering companionship behind the voice.
But what about live music performances?
Even if it is a live performance, it is nothing more than background noise for most viewers.
Do you want to hear the solemnity and grandeur of "Inazuma City" or the exotic mystery of "Sumeru"?
Open a music platform and you can choose from 24bit/96kHz lossless audio quality and even loop single tracks. Why stick to a slow-paced, information-sparse live stream?
Players clicked into this live stream not because they wanted to "know" about the next version, but also because they wanted to "experience" the unique fun and warmth of the Genshin Impact community.
They want to see chibi characters jumping around grabbing the microphone, hear voice actors improvising banter and making jokes that backfire, and see those usually serious characters suddenly break into a mesmerizing dance in front of the camera.
That's the charm of "live streaming".
But precisely because it's an "anniversary celebration," everything is imbued with a solemn meaning.
The voice actors are no longer the "souls behind the characters," but rather "special guests" who can only make a brief appearance, offer their blessings, and then have to leave for their final bow.
They couldn't sit in the recording studio like they usually do during preview live streams, sipping milk tea and anticipating the fun that the next version might bring, nor could they improvise a stand-up comedy routine.
So, the responsibility of the entire live broadcast fell back on Brother Dawei's shoulders.
He stood in front of the camera, as gentle, professional, and articulate as ever.
But that's precisely where the problem lies—it's too technical. He's talking about an "announcement," not a "story."
What they were doing was "reporting," not "interaction."
The entire live stream was like a meticulously rehearsed press conference, with every PPT slide flipped precisely in milliseconds and every line of dialogue polished repeatedly, resulting in a smoothness that was almost cold.
There were no surprises, no laughs, and no spontaneous moments.
What should have been a lively and festive celebration turned into a long and quiet one-man show.
It was like a meticulously arranged banquet, with snow-white tablecloths and flickering candlelight, but because the host was late in arriving, the guests could only stare blankly at the cold dishes.
It's not fair to say it's "just a little boring".
After all, the core content supporting this live stream was significant enough: brand-new map information, and the appearance of three new characters...
If these pieces of information were broken down and made into individual short videos or text-based exposés, each one could ignite a heated discussion in the community.
But precisely because the packaging is too neat and the pace too steady, the surprise is diminished.
The audience felt like they were attending an academic lecture, rather than participating in a Spring Festival Gala for the gaming industry.
Xiao Guizi leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table, silently complaining to himself:
"From now on, Dawei should focus on development. This kind of live broadcast program targeting millions of players is not something everyone can handle."
"If you ask me, it's the right thing to do to hand it over to a voice-over team. If all else fails, my husband will do too—he's good at it, he knows the jokes, and he can make serious content funny."
A wave of resonance has already swept through the comment section:
My thoughts are exactly the same as Xiao Guizi's—that's it?
[Of the 80-minute live stream, less than 40 minutes contained truly valuable information.]
[It feels like there's only a small section of truly useful information. The rest is just a lot of atmosphere.]
Voice actors really understand their audience! If there were those old-fashioned voice-over mini-dramas, I would absolutely love watching them.
[↑That's right, everyone has their own area of expertise.]
She looked at the words, a slight smile playing on her lips, as if she had found a kindred spirit. But then she sighed and rubbed her sore eyes.
I sat there for more than an hour, my mind highly focused, afraid of missing a fleeting detail or a hidden Easter egg.
This isn't watching a live stream; it's clearly a mental marathon.
She slowly stood up, stretched, and her spine made a slight clicking sound.
The stiffness from sitting for a long time spreads from the lower back to the shoulders, making the whole person feel as if all the strength is being drained away.
"Watching this live stream was so tiring, it felt even more tiring than when I did the chest-breaking exercise back in the day."
This is not an exaggeration.
A few years ago, she was still making a living in the martial arts world, breaking large stones on her chest with Su Chang in the live broadcast room.
Back then, it took courage, skill, and the body's limits to endure.
But now, even though he was just sitting in a swivel chair, his body didn't move an inch, but his mind was tense the whole time, like a fully drawn bowstring.
That kind of exhaustion wasn't muscle soreness, but rather mental depletion.
"Play down, play down."
She spoke to herself softly, as if issuing an order that could not be refuted.
With a click of the mouse, the window closed, and the screen went dark. Only the dim light of the desk lamp and her slightly disordered breathing remained in the room.
She went into the bathroom, and the hot water washed over her body, but it couldn't wash away the inexplicable emptiness in her heart.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, her wet hair was dripping water, but she didn't care. She went straight to the bed and, like a weary bird finally returning to its nest, sank into a soft dream.
Her next live stream might not resume until version 3.1 is officially released.
By then, the new map will be open, the new characters will be available, and the players' enthusiasm will be reignited.
All she wants now is a good night's sleep.
——Teyvat
Fengdeng Tower, third floor.
As dusk settled over the windowpanes, a dim, yellowish light spilled over the edge of the bed.
Jun Bai leaned against the headboard, holding a thick book in his hands, flipping through the pages of "The Complete Collection of Cold Jokes" that the system had brought from the real world.
As the papers turned, an invisible silence seemed to spread through the room—a kind of unspoken chill.
[You're not going to the preview livestream to ride the wave of popularity and gain viewership points, is it because you want to stay here and research lame jokes?]
The system's voice suddenly rang out, carrying a hint of helplessness and mockery, and sounded particularly clear in the silence.
Jun Bai gently closed the book, pressed his fingertips to his brow, and slowly massaged his tired nerves, his tone revealing a hint of seriousness and self-reflection:
"That's partly true."
He gazed at the flickering lights outside the window and continued, "After all, when we deal with Sumeru and Seno in the future, if we can present an unexpected contrast—"
"If a normally calm and rational character suddenly tells a joke that's so cold it's freezing cold, wouldn't that create a sense of contrast for the player?"
"This contrast itself is a memorable feature that can boost my popularity."
So, how's it progressing now?
Jun Bai sighed softly, tossed the book in his hand aside, letting it fall onto the soft bedding, like discarding a useless brick.
"No progress whatsoever."
He fell backward, staring at the ceiling, his voice full of frustration, "It turns out I have absolutely no talent for telling corny jokes."
"It's not that it's cold, it's that it's so embarrassing that it makes you want to dig your toes into the ground."
He sat up again, a glint of inspiration in his eyes: "However... perhaps I can change direction. I don't have to be the one telling jokes; I can also be an appreciator of corny jokes."
"Could you bring me a copy of '100,000 Bad Jokes' from the real world later?"
Isn't "100,000 Bad Jokes" an animated series?
“There’s a webcomic version,” Junbai explained with certainty. “If you print it out and bind it into a book, it can be read as a standalone physical book. It’s excellent learning material.”
Okay, I'll bring you one next time.
The system abruptly changed the subject, "So, if studying lame jokes is only part of the reason, what about the other part?"
Jun Bai stretched lazily, his spine making a slight sound, and sank into the fluffy pillow. His voice became casual: "I have already shown my face once in the preview live stream of version 3.0."
"The preview of version 3.2 will be shown again."
"The fact that three versions have appeared in a row is too frequent, and players are likely to get tired of it."
Are you sure... it's not because you're lazy?
Jun Bai glanced sideways at the void, a slight smile playing on his lips, his tone carrying a hint of unease at being exposed: "Couldn't you have just kept quiet when you saw through it? Did you have to spell it out?"
He sat up straight again, stretched his shoulders and back, and regained some composure: "In the end, version 3.2 is my domain. I was just joining in the fun during the preview of version 3.1."
But that was the anniversary celebration.
"Anniversary celebration..." Jun Bai chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes, "Isn't it still just a preview live stream?"