It was the weekend.
Dong Boyun leapt out of his sleep pod the moment he opened his eyes. As he brushed his teeth, he eagerly opened his smart assistant and launched his favorite match-3 puzzle game, the cheerful and mouthwatering "Delicious Match".
But as soon as he logged in, Dong Boyun noticed something surprising—the game had been updated.
With the toothbrush buzzing in his mouth, he carefully read through the Update Log, so focused he barely noticed the usual discomfort of the automatic cleaning device.
[Update Log 1]1.1: Added limited-time event level "Feast Mode"1.2: Added single-level leaderboard1.3: Added friends system1.4: Added ad-rewarded item feature...
He didn't even open the game right away—instead, he immediately jumped into the Delicious Match Fan Group he had joined and shouted into the chat:
—Guys! "Delicious Match" just got an update!
—Woke me up faster than an alarm. Updating now.
—No way. Did the dev read our minds? We were just discussing whether the game would ever be updated again. I figured it was one of those volume-focused games—most players would stop once they cleared the available stages, and even more hardcore ones would probably quit after a month. And now, bam—new update!
—Don't underestimate the dev! Anyone who could make Delicious Match in the first place? Their ideas definitely outpace the players'.
—Drop your game IDs! I'll add you.
—Wait, is there any point in adding friends in a game like this?
—Yes! Friends can send each other energy! Total lifesaver for hardcore players. Don't want it? Fine, more for me.
—WHAT?! Energy sharing?! My ID is xxxxxx—add me, now!
The group chat exploded with discussion. Seeing that players could now send each other energy, Dong Boyun quickly dropped his own ID too and launched the game.
Dong Boyun wasn't a paying player.
So for tough "elite levels" like 10 or 20, or boss levels like 25 or 50, he only had one- or two-star ratings.
One star was from clearing the level once; two stars meant he had played it again. He knew three stars was the ultimate goal—but with a stamina cap of 15 points (five rounds max), he couldn't keep grinding. Full recovery took at least two hours.
Now that the update included a way to get more energy, he wasn't thinking about anything else. He sat glued to the new "Friends System" panel on the right side of the game screen, waiting for his incoming energy gifts.
Because he posted his ID in the group—and because many others were like him—his friends list filled up quickly, and energy began to pour in.
Dong Boyun couldn't wait. He jumped into one of his old one-star levels, fired up, determined to earn a three-star clear.
He assumed it would take at least two more tries—but to his surprise, he got lucky. Right at the end, he matched five of the same item in a row, pushing him straight to a perfect score.
When the results screen popped up, he saw three golden stars—his heart swelled with joy.
Then suddenly, a new panel slid up from the bottom:
[Your rank among friends: 7th]
Below that was a long leaderboard.
Wait—what?
Looking closely, he realized it was a ranking of scores on this specific level, just among his newly added friends.
Even though he got three stars, he only ranked seventh.
Dong Boyun pouted at the screen, expression complicated.
Just moments ago, he was thrilled at finally getting three stars. Now? Seeing that he wasn't number one made him itch to replay the level—over and over, until he got to the top.
Elsewhere, his good friend Smith wasn't too obsessed with rankings. His attention was focused elsewhere: now you could watch ads to earn special items!
Of course, to avoid upsetting paying users, the number of ads was limited, and ad rewards were capped as well.
For example, when trying to three-star level 25 again, Smith ran out of action points. At that point, the game offered two options:
Spend "Delicious Coins" to buy a cherry item that restores action points.
Watch an ad to get the same item.
Usually, you couldn't watch ads after every failed level—it depended on luck. But you could preemptively watch an ad before starting a level to get a special item usable only for that attempt.
Each level allowed only one of these exclusive items.
Same with energy recovery from ads—limited but useful.
So even with all these restrictions, Smith was happy.
He couldn't speak for everyone, but for himself and his close gaming friends, this was a great new feature.
Coincidentally, far away on another planet—Huojixing—original early player Zhuang Qingyan also updated the game the moment she heard the news.
Unlike Dong Boyun, she wasn't too excited about rankings. What thrilled her was the new friends system—free energy was always welcome!
But soon, her attention shifted to the limited-time dungeon: "Feast Mode."
She didn't care about competition or high scores, but full collection? That was her obsession!
Especially when the event included the nerve-wracking phrase: limited-time.
In a normal house, each food element required collecting over 1000 of the same type to fully decorate a display.
Zhuang Qingyan remembered how it took her a full week to fill the first house.
She checked the event's availability—two weeks total.
Relieved, she calmly opened level 1 of the dungeon.
When the grid loaded, she nearly drooled on the spot.
Braised pork, sweet-and-sour fish, roast duck, yellow-braised chicken, tomato beef stew—each food icon was exquisitely drawn, so realistic and mouthwatering that it perfectly lived up to the name "Feast Mode."
But her relief was short-lived.
Unlike normal levels, which had 50 sublevels per chapter, this dungeon only had 30 sublevels total. That meant fewer free collection opportunities—she'd need to spend more energy to gather enough elements.
Once inside, she noticed the event gameplay was much richer too. In addition to "Unwrap Packaging," there were new mechanics like "Collect Chopsticks" and "Defend against the Glutton stealing your food."
Zhuang Qingyan, always fascinated with Huaxia culture from old Earth, was especially delighted by the appearance of "Glutton"—a mythical beast from ancient Chinese legend. The dev's attention to cultural detail made her love the game even more.
As she played, she also checked out a trending post on the Game Home forums.
By now, under the constant influence of fellow fans, she no longer saw spending money in Delicious Match as something shameful or unnecessary.
In fact, while grinding the event, she fully embraced the "Pay to Win" philosophy—contributing star coin after star coin to support Chu Qing, the game's producer.
The new update was met with overwhelming praise. Not only did Delicious Match generate over 500,000 star coins in its first month—far exceeding the official forecast—it also pushed Chu Qing's follower count on the social platform "Dida" up by 300,000.
"Dida" was the most popular social app in the Interstellar Era, a hybrid of old-Earth Twitter and TikTok. It combined short videos with microblogging, and users could switch freely between the two.
During this time, Chu Qing also designed her personal producer logo.
Because the Star Alliance Government was actively supporting the game industry, entry barriers were low. But this gave rise to an "unofficial barrier"—the personal logo.
In the game dev world, not everyone had the right to one. Only producers whose monthly revenue surpassed 10,000 star coins could unlock the privilege to design a personal logo.
Only those with a personal logo were considered true, recognized game producers.
One month after launch, the system officially granted Chu Qing permission to create hers.
Once finalized and approved, her "Dida" account automatically posted a verification video.
On a white screen with the official watermark, her name appeared beneath a unique emblem: a silhouette of a hemisphere joined with a girl's profile, symbolizing Earth and Chu Qing herself.
When the video dropped, fans went wild.
—OMG, this is so exciting! "Delicious Match" finally has an official logo! Our dev is amazing!—Tell me, is this the first AI-terminal game with a personal logo?!—Not quite. One full-dive game dev tried making an AI-terminal game and had a logo. But Chu Qing is the first AI-only dev to earn one.—So cool! Like watching your daughter grow up and make it big!—"Delicious Match"—a celebration for AI-terminal users, a blessing for people with fragmented time. Congrats to its creator Chu Qing on officially joining the ranks of recognized game producers.—Okay okay, enough praise—give me something useful! Chu Qing, look here: I'm a paying player, but I didn't start spending from the beginning. Now, seeing the empty trophy spot in my Delicious House is killing me. Could you please add a paid item that lets me earn that trophy again? I'll pay anything. No matter how it's presented—even if it's super expensive—I'm in. Please, can I have it back?!