472: Reverse Chicken Blood

After a full round, Star had provided targeted guidance to everyone.

He spoke at a measured pace, offering concise points, always managing to grasp each ghost messenger's characteristics and guide them toward the most suitable performance direction.

The atmosphere in the private room gradually livened up, the sound of keyboards becoming dense and continuous.

Star had just finished distributing the last private message template, and before his fingertips had even left the paper, the private room door was pushed open.

Chen Yu poked half her body in first, shook her white-haired head, and stepped aside.

Shang Wan Ning walked in.

The Empress was wearing a pitch-black belted trench coat today, the hem cut sharply, the waist cinched tight, accentuating her upright figure. She said nothing, walked to the center of the room, stood still, and swept her gaze across the room with a flat look.

Just with this one glance.

"Swish!" Seventy-three chairs were pushed back simultaneously, the ghost messengers stood up in unison, and the chair legs scraped against the marble floor with a sharp, ear-piercing sound.

The Old Woman Zhao Yun had stood up too quickly; her reading glasses slid to the tip of her nose, and her withered fingers trembled as she poked them back up.

Liu Shuo quickly minimized the provocative private message window he had just typed, his movements so fast they stirred up a breeze.

Zhou Wenyuan "slammed" his laptop screen shut, his spine taut.

The Yin energy instantly congealed, pressing heavily on everyone's chest.

Star stepped forward quickly, his legs feeling weak as he bowed: "Your Majesty."

Shang Wan Ning waved her hand, her gaze still fixed on the rigid ghost messengers. "Sit." A single word, clear and powerful.

The ghost messengers glanced at each other, sat back down slowly, their backs straight, fingers placed neatly on their knees.

Chen Yu slipped over to Star's side, nudged him with her elbow, and lowered her voice: "How is it going?"

"Just finished dividing the groups," Star replied, his eyes following Shang Wan Ning.

The Empress walked to the first row, stopped beside Zhao Yun's station, and lowered her eyes to look at the screen. The Old Woman's private message box was still wide open, containing a few lines of mundane chatter about her grandson—the words simple, almost clumsy, with a common exclamation mark at the end.

Shang Wan Ning looked for about three seconds.

"Send."

Zhao Yun froze, her lips moving slightly.

"Send it now." The Empress repeated, her voice not loud, yet it reached every corner of the room.

The Old Woman's fingers trembled violently; they hovered over the mouse for a moment before she pressed the left button heavily.

Seeing the "send successful" notification, her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a long breath.

Almost simultaneously, Shang Wan Ning walked toward the next station. Zhou Wenyuan's screen was lit up, with three private messages open discussing technical topics from different angles, stacked with dense professional jargon.

"Delete."

Zhou Wenyuan's fingers trembled.

"Keep the last one, delete the rest entirely." Shang Wan Ning's fingertip hovered over the screen, her nails neatly trimmed. "Cut half the jargon, and add three typos."

"Y-Your Majesty..." Zhou Wenyuan's throat felt dry. "Would this... wouldn't it seem too unprofessional?"

"Ordinary people cannot ask such neat questions." After saying this, the Empress turned and headed toward Liu Shuo.

On Liu Shuo's screen were several snarky, provocative private messages; he felt he had written them with sharp, biting wit and was holding his breath, waiting for praise. Shang Wan Ning only glanced at them, and her brows furrowed imperceptibly.

"Tsk, still too deliberate."

Liu Shuo's face turned pale in a "flash."

"Rewrite it. Start with 'Sister' and add a tilde at the end." She paused, her gaze sweeping over Liu Shuo's flushed face. "Remember, the person you are playing is a petty person who thinks they are clever, not a truly villainous one."

Liu Shuo opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he couldn't say a word.

Shang Wan Ning didn't stop, continuing to move through the private room, her pitch-black coat hem brushing against the chair backs. She stopped for no more than ten seconds at each spot, every instruction short and precise...

"Cut the last two sentences of this tearful plea. Too much sentimentality is just affectation."

"Collaboration invitation? Change 'mutually beneficial' to 'let's hang out.' Don't be so stiff, be more relaxed."

"For those asking for the link, add a popular cat meme on the side. The kind with a clueless look in its eyes."

"Don't use system templates for spam messages, type them by hand. Deliberately misspell a few words while typing, make it stutter a bit."

Star followed half a step behind her, his eyes gradually brightening. Every problem the Empress pointed out was something he had vaguely felt was wrong just moments ago, but couldn't quite pinpoint the root cause of.

It was as if the Empress could see through the human heart, identifying the "signs of performance" behind every private message at a glance.

[As expected, Her Majesty is the real boss!]

Five minutes. In just five minutes, Shang Wan Ning had finished visiting all seventy-three stations. She turned and returned to the center of the room, her gaze sweeping over every tense face.

"Remember clearly what you are doing." Her vermilion lips parted slightly, her voice clear, calm, and resonant.

"This is not a chore; it is a game of chess between gods."

The ghost messengers held their breath, not even daring to move their eyes.

"Every word you type is testing the boundaries of a Ninth-Rank Great Demon." Shang Wan Ning's divine sense moved from Zhao Yun's graying hair to the eyes behind Zhou Wenyuan's glasses, then swept over Liu Shuo's clenched fists...

"Will It reply? When will It reply? In what tone? Will It block you, leave you hanging, or brush it off lightly? Every piece of feedback is a piece placed on the chessboard."

Zhao Yun's withered fingers gripped the corner of her clothes.

Zhou Wenyuan pushed up the glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose.

Liu Shuo gritted his molars, his jawline tensing, but a fire of unwillingness to concede ignited in his eyes.

"Hmm, do you feel like you can't breathe with me here?" Shang Wan Ning suddenly asked, her lips curling up ever so slightly.

No one dared to answer.

"If you can't breathe, then that's right." Her voice deepened, carrying a strange sense of motivation.

"Holding this breath means you know who is sitting on the other side."

"But don't forget, the one sitting behind the screen at this moment is not the Zhulong entity, but just a 'female streamer' who wants to gain followers, fears losing her reputation, and can have her mood disrupted by private messages."

The private room was so quiet that one could hear the faint "crackle" of the soul lamp wicks.

"Use mortal methods to force out Its extraordinary nature." The Empress said finally, every word resounding with impact, "That is what I want."

After speaking, she looked at Star.

Star took a deep breath, his heart, which had been silent for many years, thumping against his ribs. He bowed and said, word by word: "Subordinate understands."

Shang Wan Ning nodded, said no more, and turned toward the door. Chen Yu followed quickly, winking at Star before leaving, her white-haired head shaking as she disappeared outside.

The door hinge "creaked" as it closed.

The private room was dead silent for three seconds.

Then...

"My dear ancestor!" Liu Shuo was the first to explode, his fist "slamming" onto the solid wood tabletop, shaking the mouse so hard it jumped.

"What did Her Majesty just say? A game of chess? A bunch of small ghost messengers like us, playing a game of chess against a Ninth-Rank Great Demon that has lived for who knows how many tens of thousands of years!!!"

Zhou Wenyuan "clattered" his notebook open, his fingers shaking so much he couldn't hold his pen. He simply threw the pen aside, grabbed the keyboard with both hands, and began typing furiously, muttering neurotically: "Three typos, they can't be too outrageous, they have to be ones with similar pinyin that are easy to mistype..."