Time flew by. In just a few more months, both 'Slam Dunk' and 'Bleach' had become undisputed titans of the Great Zhou entertainment industry.
Whether in terms of discussion volume or cultural impact, both series were already approaching the level of Jing Yu's legendary peak-era project—' Attack on Titan'.
Of course, viewership ratings couldn't match that era. Back when Great Zhou's TV industry was at its peak—when the twin juggernauts 'Attack on Titan' and 'Gundam SEED' aired simultaneously—broadcast shares were massive. Back then, TV and online streaming split audiences about 60/40.
But those days were long gone.
Now, online viewership dominates, with 60% of the audience preferring streaming platforms, and only 40% still watching traditional TV.
Ratings alone couldn't reflect the true reach of 'Slam Dunk' and 'Bleach'. At present, both series were not only dominant in Great Zhou—they were the most-watched dramas worldwide across all major countries.
Overseas, a show like 'Bleach', with its cool aesthetics, gained more traction. Domestically, 'Slam Dunk' held the lead in popularity.
Characters like Mitsui Hisashi, Hanamichi Sakuragi, and Sendoh were gaining fan bases by the day. Even classic quotes like "Coach, I want to play basketball!" were now mainstream catchphrases across Great Zhou.
Jing Yu often saw kids on his way home from work holding plastic swords, shouting "Bankai!" while striking poses—your classic middle-schooler energy.
Compared to his older works focused on love or heavy adult-oriented battle dramas like the 'Fate' series, the 'Evangelion' series, or 'Attack on Titan', these pure, high-school-age blood-pumping shows like 'Slam Dunk' and 'Bleach' had broader appeal.
Adults loved them. Kids lit up watching them.
Naturally, the media began praising Jing Yu again.
But truthfully, by this point, Jing Yu's fame had reached its peak. He was like Hayao Miyazaki in his previous life—no matter how many people hailed him as a master afterward, there was no higher level of recognition left to reach.
Even though Jing Yu was still young, and not every past work had been flawless, in Great Zhou, if he claimed to be the second greatest in TV history, no one dared to claim first.
In film, things were more complicated.
Some directors had created high-rated but low-grossing works, like 'Farewell My Concubine' in his past life.
But with hits like 'Spirited Away', 'Castle in the Sky', and the sheer volume of successful titles under his belt, Jing Yu was firmly top-three in Great Zhou among all screenwriters, actors, and creators. Most fans saw him as the single most influential figure in the entertainment world.
As for gaming—
Great Zhou had many legacy game companies, but none had ever produced a title as globally explosive as 'Pokémon' or 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'.
Yet after just two years of release, both games had already taken root across the world. Entire generations of teenagers were now dreaming of catching monsters or building duel decks.
The global influence of the two IPs was growing fast.
To this day, no one knew how far they might go.
But with BlueStar set to release five new mobile game spinoffs tied to both series over the next two years, it was obvious—this was only the beginning.
If their popularity kept rising, it wasn't far-fetched to think BlueStar could become the world's most influential game developer based on just these two titles.
Besides adapting past works, Jing Yu's company was also constantly generating new ones.
Of course, Jing Yu didn't have the time to personally remake every major hit from his previous life, but he often gave ideas and directions for his teams to follow up on.
Though single-player games were most popular in the Great Zhou, online games had their niche, too.
In fact, the potential for expanding the PC gaming market was promising.
So Jing Yu wasn't just greenlighting manga adaptations. He also started proposing projects in the style of 'Genshin Impact'—anime-inspired open-world games—as well as PvP-based titles inspired by 'PUBG', 'League of Legends', and other competitive formats.
The company had the people. It had the money. Funding wasn't a problem.
While Jing Yu had no intention of dedicating his entire life to chasing money, he still took his job seriously during the 8–9 hours a day he spent at the office.
After all, someone had to pay for the baby formula.
Jing Yu himself hadn't been born into wealth, but he could try to make his daughter the ultimate rich second-gen.
"Dada."
The moment his daughter, at six months old, called out to him in her soft little voice under Yu Youqing's guidance, Jing Yu's heart trembled.
He instantly felt guilty for ever thinking kids were annoying.
"Hey, hey, I'm here!"
He grinned, lifting her gently into his arms.
Once, he'd thought that people with no ambitions who lived ordinary, simple lives were boring.
But now he understood—
Having a wife, a kid, a warm home... that was real success.
There's only one true definition of success: living the life you want, on your own terms.
Someone might say, "What if I just want to play games, read novels, waste time, and live a useless life—is that success too?"
Jing Yu's answer echoed the words of a philosopher from his past life—Bertrand Russell:
"If you spend your youth chasing pleasure, and when you're old, you realize you made the right call—then it wasn't time wasted. If you find joy in wasting time, it's not wasted time."
Jing Yu felt that Russell... really got him.
Of course, he would add one condition: your freedom to waste time should come from your own earned resources, not from mooching, cheating, or dragging others down.
If someone could find happiness in staring at clouds, doing nothing, and living simply, they were still more successful than someone with billions who lived in constant anxiety.
Even if the wealthy looked down on them... they still lived freer, happier lives.
Jing Yu saw his past ten-plus years in this world through that lens.
He was a 2D culture nerd at heart. His joy came from spreading the works he loved to more people.
He loved money? So he made money.
Loved the spotlight? So he acted.
Loved a girl? So he married her and built a family.
Looking back, he had zero regrets.
Sure, pursuing all these interests involved networking, all-nighters, and burnout. But even those struggles had become part of his satisfaction.
Looking at his daughter in his arms, Jing Yu felt completely content.
After soothing her to sleep, he went back to reviewing company reports.
He knew full well that BlueStar's rise came mostly from his own creative output and his understanding of trends based on his past life.
He could hand things over to professional managers and retire early.
But that would mean stagnation.
BlueStar wouldn't keep growing—it'd just hold steady until someone else surpassed it.
At this stage, it was truly a case of "row upstream or be swept back." Miss a critical development window, and even a reincarnator like him couldn't catch up later.
So he had to keep reading reports, making plans, setting direction.
He had a strong sense of urgency. But to fans, Jing Yu seemed omnipresent.
Turn on the TV or a streaming site—chances were, the top-ranking dramas were either Jing Yu originals or produced by BlueStar.
Games? Don't even ask.
'Ultraman', 'Rurouni Kenshin', 'Initial D', 'Pokémon', the 'Fate' series, 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'—recent blockbuster games in Great Zhou were all tied to Jing Yu.
Even in cinema, the record set by 'Spirited Away' still hadn't been broken.
At this point, Jing Yu felt like the Tencent of the entertainment world—ubiquitous.
Did you watch a video? Tencent's involved.
Go to a movie? Tencent backed it.
Play a game? Well...
Though BlueStar's scale wasn't yet on Tencent's level, Jing Yu was steering things that way.
Otherwise, someone who loved anime culture as much as he did wouldn't have launched projects inspired by 'PUBG', 'League of Legends', and 'CS', assigning teams to research and develop similar games.
Even without the boost of something like Tencent's WeChat ecosystem, great games could still rise based on merit.
The company's progress was steady and strong.
Both 'Bleach' and 'Slam Dunk' were multi-year epics.
After a full year of airing, 'Slam Dunk' finally entered the manga's national tournament arc.
As for 'Bleach', the Soul Society Rescue arc had wrapped, and the Hueco Mundo arc—rescuing Orihime—was just beginning.
Live-action drama episodes were longer than manga chapters. The original 'Bleach' manga ran for over a decade, but with filler cut and pacing optimized, Jing Yu estimated the Great Zhou version could wrap in about three years.
So while 'Slam Dunk' was entering its final stretch, 'Bleach' still had a long road ahead.
But their success prompted Jing Yu to revise the company strategy.
If audiences were willing to support long-running shows, then good! Problem solved.
Aside from the big three—'Bleach', 'One Piece', 'Naruto'—there were tons of viable long-form series:
'Detective Conan', 'Hunter x Hunter', 'Saint Seiya', 'Inuyasha', 'Ranma ½', 'JoJo's Bizarre Adventure', 'Katekyo Hitman Reborn!', 'D.Gray-man'...
There were so many, Jing Yu could easily keep BlueStar running one or two of them at a time for decades without repeating anything.
So from a company-reputation standpoint, there was no pressure.
Which meant...
All those outsiders predicting Jing Yu would decline after marriage and fatherhood? Dead wrong.
After a year and a half of airing, even if 'Slam Dunk' lacked the dynamic visuals of anime or manga, the heart of the story remained intact. And that heart made it another youth sports classic.
The result?
A 60% increase in the number of young people across the country picking up basketball.
Especially after the ending—Shohoku defeats the tournament's strongest team, Sannoh, only to lose in the next round to Aiwa due to back-to-back scheduling and physical exhaustion.
That week, BlueStar's HQ saw hundreds of fans with red hair and #10 jerseys protesting daily—demanding Jing Yu change the ending.
But Jing Yu, now a bearded dad wanting to look reliable (not like an ageless idol), gave a full media interview—then shamelessly borrowed the original author's line:
"Youth always ends with regret."
A single sentence that made fans want to cough up blood.🤣🤣🤣
But he stood by it—on the record.