The speaker was a young woman in her early twenties, addressing an older lady whose graying hair was neatly combed back. Dressed in a gray suit, she had an air of meticulousness about her.

Her name was Chai Yuanlin, president of the Exile Star System’s Dreamweaver Association.

“Xiao Zhang, are you really recommending an unfinished short series from a newcomer to me?” Chai Yuanlin glanced at the holographic screen.

Xiao Zhang stuck out her tongue. “She’s one of our own, though.”

She had her own little agenda—this newcomer had joined halfway through the competition, making it unlikely for her to reach first place. But if she could catch the teacher’s attention, her path would become much smoother.

This was Xiao Zhang’s first time pulling such a stunt, but she couldn’t help it—the newcomer’s work had completely blown her away.

“Set it aside for now,” Chai Yuanlin said. She had no children, and her relationship with her apprentice was closer than mother and daughter, so she spoke casually.

Xiao Zhang pouted, prompting Chai Yuanlin to add, “Do you know why I don’t watch a newcomer’s first work?”

Xiao Zhang scratched her head. “Uh… because it’s unreliable?”

“Exactly,” Chai Yuanlin nodded. “More precisely, because they might not stick with it.”

In this era, Dreamweavers were highly respected, and nearly everyone dreamed of becoming one.

Some newcomers did show immense talent with their first work, only to disappear soon after.

If you asked Chai Yuanlin, the greatest talent in the world wasn’t skill—it was passion. Only true love for the craft could keep someone going.

“I know, I know—you’re about to bring up that former student of yours again.” Xiao Zhang blinked playfully.

Chai Yuanlin had once mentored a student with unparalleled talent, but her heart wasn’t in it. Every time her teacher mentioned her, there was a trace of regret in her voice.

To this day, Xiao Zhang had no idea what that senior apprentice had ended up doing.

Chai Yuanlin huffed. “Good, as long as you remember.”

Still, she silently took note of the name Jingyan.

–

After leaving her mentor’s office, Xiao Zhang went right back to analyzing Married to an Eldritch God.

In truth, Married to an Eldritch God followed a fairly standard formula—or, to put it another way, it was very “newcomer-friendly.” By this point in the story, the audience had caught onto the patterns: Oh, here comes another scare.

But did they stop watching?

Of course not!

Not only did they keep watching, but they were completely hooked.

Xiao Zhang had already rewatched the first arc three times. Now, she was nearing the end of the second.

The female lead had disappeared into the deep sea in the dead of night, her whereabouts unknown.

The next morning, the male lead woke up to find the bed beside him still empty. Strangely, though, he didn’t experience any hallucinations that day—not while washing up, eating breakfast, tidying the house, or even watching the news.

According to their original plan, today was supposed to be their honeymoon photoshoot. The photography team had been booked in advance.

Even the male lead could sense that something ominous was brewing.

By noon, he was in the garden, cleaning up the aftermath of last night’s storm. The violent winds and rain had decapitated countless roses and climbing vines, scattering crimson petals everywhere.

The doorbell rang.

Expecting the photography crew, he opened the door—only to find a police officer standing there instead.

For the first time in Married to an Eldritch God, a third non-default-modeled character appeared.

A silver-haired, green-eyed woman cast a sharp look at the male lead. Wearing pristine white gloves, she raised her police badge, her voice cold as ice: “Is your wife home? We need both of you to come with us.”

And with that, the second arc ended.

Xiao Zhang, fully engrossed, let out an exasperated groan when the credits rolled. “Ugh! That’s it? Again?!”

–

[Wait, was that officer part of the faction hunting down the ‘Eldritch God’ experiment?]

[Seems like it! Since the news already reported on it, that means humanity has begun its counterattack.]

[The female lead’s been discovered! Is she in danger?!]

[Ahem. Given what we’ve seen so far, I think you should be more worried about the humans…]

[Seriously, what kind of lab creates something like her? No normal biology experiment could produce something so supernatural!]

[I’ve been thinking the same thing. ‘Eldritch God’ doesn’t seem man-made at all… I’m reminded of an old religious practice from the previous star cycle—prayers and sacrifices. What if the so-called laboratory wasn’t conducting experiments, but instead trying to summon an evil god… and it backfired? Look at this screenshot from the news report…]

Among the sea of sharp-eyed commenters, someone had zoomed in on a frame from the news segment. Hidden in the newspaper the male lead was reading was a photo of the burned-down laboratory. And in the ruins, barely visible, was a massive, shattered blood-red summoning sigil.

[Back in the previous star cycle, people believed the deep sea held unfathomable mysteries. Judging from all these clues, the female lead really does seem to have come from the ocean…]

[The updates are way too slow! 50-minute episodes aren’t enough!]

[Honestly, I was skeptical at first, wondering who would enjoy this kind of show. And now here I am, begging for more updates…]

Xiao Zhang clutched her holo-screen, pacing in circles like a cat on edge. If she were being completely honest, she wanted the author to become her junior apprentice partly so she could get early access to the plot…

–

In just a few days, Shang Jingyan’s follower count had skyrocketed from zero to ten thousand, with several sudden surges, now reaching 13,000.

The votes were climbing even faster than her follower count. Based on the current trajectory, even with only the first two parts released, “Married to an Eldritch God” had a solid shot at making the top ten.

The system had gone completely silent. Ever since the short film went live, it hadn’t offered a single comment, as quiet as the most basic, no-frills system panel.

It finally spoke up, hesitantly: [Congratulations on your huge success. But this still doesn’t fit the mainstream… Let’s be more cautious next time, okay?]

Compared to its previous frantic “Never again!” this time, the tone was much meeker.

X71 was mainly worried about its host getting flamed. It had been secretly monitoring hate comments nonstop—so much that it couldn’t even enter sleep mode anymore.

Mainstream content in this world tended to be idealistic and romance-driven, but clearly, that hadn’t done much to change the darker side of human nature.

After the initial wave of praise, skepticism followed right on its heels.

[This has to be staged. No way a newbie’s first work gets fan content of this caliber.]

[Obvious hype marketing. So desperate it’s laughable.]

[I’ve seen plenty of so-called genius Dreamweavers, and this? Just from the cover alone, I don’t even want to click.]

…And so on.

[These are nothing but weak jabs, not worth paying attention to. But you—] Shang Jingyan’s expression remained calm, though her tone took on a sharper edge. “I completed my first mission ages ago. What do I get?”

She’d read plenty of novels in her past life. These so-called systems always had missions and reward mechanisms.

But Shang Jingyan didn’t feel the need to receive anything from anyone. Even without the system, her talent alone would have pushed her toward becoming a Dreamweaver in this world.

What she hated most was the feeling of being shackled by it.

[Immortality, interdimensional wealth, power beyond measure… These are the rewards you can claim upon completing the final mission,] the system responded. [And sometimes, during missions, you can receive smaller rewards. For example, this time: physical and mental restoration.]

As soon as it spoke, a warm current spread from her forehead through her entire body. The scar at her temple tingled, then quickly smoothed over, while that lingering sense of unrest deep in her soul vanished.

It was like she had finally set foot on solid ground. Only now did she truly feel like she had “settled into” this body.

[I won’t interfere with any of your decisions, and missions aren’t constantly active,] the system continued. [Shang Jingyan, I am X71. I hope we get along well ^_^]

This was the first time it had called her by name, even adding a little emoticon at the end. For a brief moment, Shang Jingyan had the illusion that it wasn’t a system at all, but a real person.

“…Alright, X71. Looking forward to working with you,” she said, still a little unused to it.

–

“Married to an Eldritch God” was starting to gain traction.

A viewer had clipped the scene where the eldritch god picked up a seashell for the male lead on the beach, set it to the film’s classic romantic BGM, and turned it into a fan edit.

[Oh my god, this is so swoon-worthy! What’s this new movie? I need to watch it!]

[Sis, prprprprpr!]

[I love her—wait, no, I love seashells! Where can I watch this??]

[HELP, now I can’t listen to this song without getting chills.]

[LMAO, who did this? You’re evil.]

[When you put it like this, it actually looks like a really good romance film. Genius edit!]

[??? What are you guys talking about? The synopsis looks pretty normal, and it’s even rated R18… Isn’t it just a romance movie?]

[Go watch it. Just go. After you do, you’ll never dare to play this love song at night again… (whispers menacingly)]

[Your R18 and my R18 seem to be very different~ (singing)]

The audience of “Eldritch God” had fully embraced the art of playful deception, gleefully luring in more unsuspecting viewers only to scare them half to death.

—

V70 Star System.

[Have you noticed that dark horse rookie lately?]

With three major star systems and countless new Dreamweavers emerging at any given moment, there were always rising stars. But to Guan Gaoyang, “that dark horse” could only refer to one person—“Jingyan.”

When his friend asked, he replied: [Yeah, I’ve noticed. She’s good.]

[She’s rising fast. Think she’ll surpass you?]

Seeing that comment, Guan Gaoyang’s expression stiffened slightly.

When he first saw “Married to an Eldritch God,” he hadn’t thought much of it.

Who would’ve guessed that in under five days, this rookie would break into the top 100? The event still had over ten days left. By the end, would she actually make the top three?

Or worse—could she threaten his number-one spot?