The Popularity System
The golden crow rose in the east. Overhead, gilded eaves caught the sunlight and gleamed with exquisite splendor.
Ying Yang shifted in her wet nurse’s arms. Her gaze wandered from a vermilion pillar bound with colored ribbons to the winding galleries, then passed over a row of attendants with their heads bowed.
A woman in a black shenyi, her hair gathered into a little bun high on the right side of her head, emerged from behind a screen patterned with floral ornaments. This was Ying Yang’s mother in her present life. At this hour, she had generally just returned from paying her respects.
“Ah, ah.” Ying Yang offered two syllables by way of greeting.
Xia Bazi opened her arms. Her expression softened as she stroked her daughter’s cheek, and while changing clothes she questioned the wet nurse about the child’s meals and daily routine. She asked three times a day; the nurse had long since learned to be prepared.
Once she had changed, Xia Bazi began teaching her daughter to speak.
Ying Yang watched her mother’s lips and tried to imitate the sounds, but her responses came slowly, and no intelligible syllable emerged.
Xia Bazi’s heart went cold. She nevertheless maintained a smile and instructed the wet nurse to take the child away and feed her. “My daughter seems livelier today. Surely it won’t be long before she begins to speak.”
The attendants lowered their heads, not daring to answer. Xia Bazi had been saying the same thing for years. Wu Gongzhu still appeared slow-witted and unresponsive…
Ying Yang scrunched up her face. Only recently had the System awakened the memories of her former life. To explain the matter, one had to begin there.
After graduating, Ying Yang had worked in internet operations for two years before receiving the splendid gift of redundancy. Searching for another job meant confronting the grim reality of a thousand applicants competing for a single position.
She took stock of her savings and skills, gritted her teeth, and started her own social-media business. Her knack for catching trends, coupled with diligent posting, gradually began to bring in money. Just as her career was improving, however, a medical examination revealed brain cancer.
Failing eyesight, impaired balance, headaches, vomiting: the symptoms brought her work as a travel-and-food blogger to a complete halt. The cancer gave her no time to recover her spirits. Within three months, she was dead.
As her life flashed before her eyes, a System suddenly appeared and asked whether she wished to join something called the Civilization Spark Project. She could be reborn in another world and resume her career as a travel-and-food blogger. To a dying woman, this was the last straw she could grasp. Ying Yang signed the binding agreement without even reading it.
She really should have read the contract carefully.
She should have insisted on a clause along the lines of: “If a System malfunction causes the host to be reborn in a technologically backward world, compulsory missions shall be canceled or their penalties reduced, and compensation must be provided.”
[Greetings, Host. Would you like to begin the beginner’s tutorial for the Popularity System?]
Ying Yang coughed and nearly choked on her milk.
A Popularity System? Wasn’t this supposed to be the Civilization Spark Project?
The System’s original explanation had sounded exceedingly grand. It claimed to belong to a race of higher-dimensional intelligent beings whose duty was to collect and preserve records of sapient civilizations. She was one of the humans selected to participate.
[The System comprehensively evaluates the host’s personal characteristics, skills, and career choices, then provides the most suitable quantitative performance indicators.]
She had been supposed to awaken in a parallel modern world and continue as a travel-and-food blogger. Popularity would have been a perfectly reasonable measure of her success.
But—
What use was a Popularity System now that she’d transmigrated into some unknown ancient era?
[Greetings, Host. Would you like to begin the beginner’s tutorial for the Popularity System?]
The System offered no explanation. It merely repeated the question.
Fine! Yes! Start it already!
Her vision blurred. She “saw” a spotlight descend. Then a child in ancient dress, identical to her present self, slowly rose from the darkness. To the accompaniment of thunderous rock music, the little figure spun through a grotesquely edited 720-degree sequence—up, down, left, right—before freezing in place with sunglasses perched on her nose and a blue pacifier in her mouth.
Ying Yang: “…”
There were so many things wrong with this that she couldn’t decide which to complain about first.
Whoosh! With an impressively dramatic sound, the floodlights came on. Darkness vanished, as did the sunglasses and pacifier. Beams of light shot from the little girl’s body toward revolving, brightly colored words: “Personal Profile,” “Personal Missions,” “Content Management,” “Fan Management,” “Competitor Management,” “Popularity Lottery,” and more.
A lottery?
Ying Yang perked up at once.
The words “Popularity Lottery” floated rhythmically toward her. Their fading gray color filled her with foreboding.
Tap, tap, tap.
[Insufficient Popularity Points. Lottery feature not unlocked.]
[Prize pool includes Identity Cards, Item Cards, Clue Cards, and more.]
The prize pool remained half concealed, but that did nothing to stop Ying Yang from practically drooling over it. She caressed it longingly several times before turning to the next feature that caught her eye: “Competitor Management.”
There’s a competitive mode? What are we competing in? Singing? Dancing? Ridiculous food videos? Don’t tell me it’s palace intrigue!
[The “Competitor Management” feature is still premature for you. Please enjoy the peace and quiet of obscurity.]
Ying Yang: “…Damn it!”
After being toyed with twice in succession, she could not resist shaking her little fists.
It was her first time immersing her consciousness in the System’s space, and she had forgotten the physical world. Thus she had no idea how strange she looked to her mother, wet nurse, and the others: one moment frowning and pursing her lips, the next flailing her fists and kicking her feet.
“She’s caught in a nightmare!”
“Summon the female *Zhu*! Quietly—and quickly!” Xia Bazi ordered anxiously.
“Wei!”
…
Unaware of what awaited her, Ying Yang was still struggling to contain her frustration with the System.
“Didn’t you promise I’d be reborn in a healthy body? Being unable to speak hardly counts as healthy! My popularity must be so low because I’m mute. People in ancient times think disabled children are ill omens!”
Her already meager popularity apparently had room to fall even further. She racked her brains for a way out.
In her previous life, Ying Yang had spent her childhood in the countryside with her elders. Her great-grandmother had told her stories of earlier times. In ages of material scarcity, backward institutions, and widespread superstition, children born with disabilities were sometimes regarded as omens of disaster for their families.
Ordinary households often could not afford to care for such children. The cruel might kill them; those unable to bring themselves to do so might abandon them to fate. Wealthy families could afford to raise them, but were often more concerned with reputation. Some disposed of the children; others sent them away to country estates or religious establishments, out of sight and out of mind.
Still, her family in this life treated her rather well. An utterly neglected child would hardly enjoy such fine clothing, good food, and numerous servants.
She opened “Personal Profile.”
[PERSONAL PROFILE]
[Name: Ying Yang / Ying Yangzi (Qin Gongzhu)
Sex: Female
Age: 2.9 years
Works: 0
Earnings: 0
Popularity: 4 (Widely Avoided ↓)
Fans: 3]
Qin? A Gongzhu?
Her heart began to pound.
*Which Qin? The Qin I’m thinking of?*
She frantically tapped “Fan Management,” but nothing happened.
The System instructed her to finish the beginner’s tutorial and accept her first mission.
[Beginner Mission One: A clear and distinctive theme is the foundation of a successful account. Please select suitable tags for your content.]
[Mission Reward: Unlock Public Opinion Data Collection.]
Ying Yang was bewildered. She had arrived in an ancient world without the internet, yet she was still expected to manage an account and earn popularity? Then she remembered that the System belonged to higher-dimensional beings. Perhaps they possessed some advanced communication channel capable of making the missions work.
She had little choice but to trust it.
After several rounds of revisions, she selected the tags “Transmigration,” “Qin Shi Huang,” “Palace Intrigue,” “Mute Gongzhu,” and “Imperial Cuisine.” She submitted them. The System confirmed her selection and announced that the reward had been issued.
Ying Yang waited patiently. No “Public Opinion Data” appeared.
“What’s going on? Where’s my enormous reward?”
[Beep—beep—]
The System froze for quite some time. When it recovered, the beginner mission’s reward had changed to “One Free Popularity Assessment.”
Ying Yang: “??”
Sometimes a person became so speechless that all she could do was laugh. She had already been unlucky enough to encounter a disturbance in space-time and end up in the wrong era. Why had she expected the System to emerge entirely unscathed?
She adjusted her attitude at remarkable speed and tapped “Fan Management.” Broadly speaking, a fan was someone who liked, supported, or helped another person. Her three fans were probably her parents or relatives. Without them, she might not even have survived.
Surely the feature would show their real names and appearances. Then she could discover which ruler of Qin was her father. She had chosen “Qin Shi Huang” as a tag purely to ride the trend.
[Insufficient fans. Management feature not unlocked.]
Ying Yang let out a shriek worthy of a startled marmot.
“AAAAH!”
Once she had finished screaming, she accepted the second beginner mission and used the reward from the first. She desperately needed some good news.
[Popularity Assessment Complete. Generating Report—
Recognition: 100% (Palace)
Discussion Rate: 80% (Palace)
Number of Works: 0
Engagement: 0 Likes / 0 Comments / 0 Shares
…
Fan Demographics: Young Adults Aged 18–25 (100%)
Fan Loyalty: 95%
Fan Conversion Rate: 15%
…
Negative Popularity: 80% (Palace)
Public Image Assessment: A mute Gongzhu born on the night of a meteor shower; numerous detractors.
…
Recommendations for Increasing Popularity:
1. Alleviate symptoms of neurotoxic poisoning and learn to speak.
2. Obtain the approval of Qin Wang Ying Zheng.]
Ah. No wonder eighty percent of the palace disliked her.
Still, looking on the bright side, having Qin Shi Huang as her biological father was practically a guaranteed source of attention. With the assistance of a mysterious, multifunctional System, surely she could make videos, raise her popularity, and enjoy a reasonably comfortable life in ancient times…
Right?
Author’s Note:
After going through several versions, the story has finally begun! _(:з」∠)_
Translator’s Notes:
The ruler of Qin was titled Wáng before the conquest of the other states. In 221 BCE, the victorious Qin sovereign established the new title Huángdì.