I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 129 - 129 128. Not Enough Positive Energy_1

Chapter 129: 128. Not Enough Positive Energy_1 Chapter 129: 128. Not Enough Positive Energy_1 From Lu Ban’s backend, he could see the specific data growth.

For example, effective clicks and total clicks could be directly calculated into revenue.

With previous video websites, these data were not transparent, and there was only a total click count. As for the effective clicks, it all depended on what the website claimed, and naturally, revenue was in their hands.

That’s how the free operational model worked.

Luckily, after a series of overt and covert battles, a new standard was finally established, and the backend became transparent.

Now, Lu Ban could open the backends of a few video websites and keep refreshing to watch the click rates.

During the Mid-Autumn Festival, when everyone else was looking to see if the moon was full, Lu Ban was seeing if his click rates were up.

Upon refreshing, the click rate for the old video website had reached one hundred and fifty thousand, and the effective click rate was just over ten thousand.

The click rate on Aishouyi Video Website was over twenty thousand, with an effective click rate of four thousand.

The data for Scarecrow Video Website was similar to Aishouyi Video Website, but the click rate was even lower, less than ten thousand.

To Lu Ban’s surprise, the click rate for Tomorrow Online was the highest, actually surpassing his main platform, the old video website, reaching two hundred thousand. However, the effective clicks were only three thousand, even lower than those of Aishouyi Video Website.

This revealed the different characters of the websites.

Aishouyi Video Website and Scarecrow Video Website had a larger proportion of paying users.

This wasn’t to say that their users were very loyal, but rather, if you didn’t pay for membership on these two websites, there wouldn’t be much to watch, and the free parts required watching a one-minute ad. Midway through, another thirty-second ad would play, then there were pay-to-watch early releases and even more expensive super-early releases.

So the majority of people using these two sites had spent money, driven to it, using money to create joy.

The old video website focused on UGC, that is, user-generated content, which was mostly free. Therefore, non-paying users could enjoy most of the content on the website, resulting in a relatively lower payment rate.

Tomorrow Online, on the other hand, was the other extreme. They focused on a down-market and short videos, mostly attracting users who had little previous internet interaction. These users were extremely price-sensitive, the most non-paying among non-payers, so although there was a lot of traffic, very few were willing to pay to watch beyond six minutes.

Having twenty thousand effective clicks in one night, Lu Ban was quite satisfied, especially since it was the Mid-Autumn Festival and many people were watching the festival gala with their families. Besides, aside from the fans on his old video website, he didn’t do much promotion elsewhere, so popularity needed time to ferment.

He still had over two months left, and earning ten thousand a day would get him to a million. At least he could get a [Mediocre] rating, right?

Being content was Lu Ban’s greatest virtue.

After refreshing for a while, it was time for Lu Ban to sleep. He finished his warm milk, did some stretching exercises, washed up, and, remembering something, posted an update.

Motionless: Wishing everyone a happy Mid-Autumn Festival!

As for the hundreds of comments that instantly appeared on that update, he didn’t pay attention.

They must all be well-wishes!

Playing background music, Lu Ban lay down.

In his drowsy state, he felt a hand gently touch the back of his own, then move up over his chest to his neck, his cheek, as if a mother were caressing her child.

“Hmm?”

Lu Ban opened his eyes slightly and felt a figure pressing down on him, rendering him immobile.

By his ear, the song of positive light continued to play, which Lu Ban found odd.

Under normal circumstances, shouldn’t these beings fall asleep peacefully to such positive music?

Could it be…

“Is this song not positive enough?”

Lu Ban frowned. He saw the shadow was blurry and did not resemble what he had seen before.

Had it evolved?

Or maybe…

Concentrating, Lu Ban felt that the blurry figure seemed more delicate, like a woman.

Having seen many female ghosts, Lu Ban found this puzzling.

He felt the oppressive force weakening as he made out the figure more clearly, and soon, Lu Ban was able to sit up.

He saw the shadowy figure swiftly dissipate, leaving no trace behind.

“Hmm, disturbing my sleep,” he murmured.

Without turning on the light, Lu Ban noticed a vague silhouette stirring in the dim room.

First, he glanced at the corner near the head of the bed, where an eyeball was faintly visible.

“Is it you?”

The eyeball retreated when Lu Ban took notice, leaving only a tuft of hair outside that swayed like a sea anemone.

“You’re too timid, it probably wasn’t you.”

Muttering to himself, he stood up and approached the wardrobe.

He opened the closet door to find a shadow curled up amid the autumn clothes, trembling like a scared kitten.

“It doesn’t seem like you either, homebody.”

Lu Ban turned around and bent down to look under the bed.

Beneath the clean bed, so free of dust, was a comical puppet slowly crawling along. It seemed to notice Lu Ban, turning its head to reveal a hideous grin.

“You’re too slow, not you either.”

Lu Ban walked out of the bedroom towards the restroom. He didn’t switch on the light there either. Light from outside filtered through the frosted glass window, dimly illuminating the room.

He looked into the mirror.

There was nothing in the mirror.

“Huh?”

Lu Ban took a closer look and noticed that his reflection in the mirror was huddled in a corner, as if startled.

“Looks like it’s not you either.”

He returned to the bedroom and addressed the invisible presence beside him.

“Could it be you?”

No response came.

“You’re saying if it were you, I wouldn’t have woken up at all? Alright then.”

After checking around the room, Lu Ban concluded that none of his housemates seemed to be the one who disturbed his sleep.

A newcomer?

Lu Ban’s gaze shifted to the table, where the crimson Crystal dulled in the faint light.

After some thought, he adjusted his playlist, switching to an album produced by Hammer, filled mostly with Netherworld melodies and background music.

The delicate whispering of a woman echoed in the bedroom, accompanied by traditional Japanese instruments, giving the impression that one should display a large monochromatic portrait, light two candles, and set up an incense burner as the sunlit incense gave off a wispy trail of purple smoke.

It was absolutely bona fide mourning music.

Listening to this music, Lu Ban lay down contentedly and slept soundly until morning, leaving no fatigue or stress for the next day.

In the morning, he followed his routine of having breakfast and studying. At noon, Lu Ban opened a webpage to check the trending rankings.

This time, he found himself directly on the leaderboard, ranked fourth among several original movies and series from an old video website.

He was quite satisfied with this result, considering it was only the first day, and the length wasn’t sufficient.

Without rushing to check the backend, Lu Ban saw a push notification from [Mediocre] on his phone.

“How do you evaluate ‘Motionless’, the new work by ‘One Hundred Poets’ from the old video website’s UP host?”

He clicked into it.