Chapter 6: Uploading the Video of the Snow Crystal Cat
Coco and the Snow Crystal Cat were having the absolute time of their lives.
Eventually, Coco turned around and looked at Su Wudeng with a face full of pure satisfaction. “Big sis, I’m going to ask my mom to bring you meals from now on. What’s your absolute favorite thing to eat? My mom makes the best braised spare ribs!”
Spare ribs? Su Wudeng froze.
She vividly recalled the day she had first transmigrated into this body. The original owner had just eaten what she thought was her only decent meal in weeks—a bowl of spare ribs rice brought over by Xiaowei. It was entirely because of that single meal that the original owner had always tolerated Xiaowei’s terrible behavior.
But now…
Su Wudeng asked tentatively, “Aunt Lin, about a month ago, did you happen to ask Xiaowei to bring me a bowl of pork chop rice?”
Lin Meiling blinked in surprise, then a look of sudden realization washed over her face. “Oh, that time! Yes! I saw that your shop was completely deserted and that you were looking painfully thin. So, I packed a massive, overflowing bowl of pork chop rice for you. I happened to run into your friend right outside, so I asked her to hand it over.”
“It was that friend of yours, the one named Xiaowei.”
A cold dread settled deep in Su Wudeng’s chest.
She remembered the meal she had actually received that day. There were only a few pathetic pieces of meat left on the bones, and she had genuinely believed Xiaowei had made it herself out of the goodness of her heart, even insisting they split it in half.
She never could have guessed that it started out as a full, generous bowl of food. By the time it passed through Xiaowei’s hands, nothing was left for her but literal scraps. Xiaowei had treated her like a beggar, secretly gorging herself on the best parts and tossing her the leftovers.
So that’s how it was…
Xiaowei had never once viewed her as a friend. To her, Su Wudeng was just a tool to be used and discarded.
Sensing the sudden shift in Su Wudeng’s aura, Coco asked innocently, “Big sis, what’s wrong? Do you not like spare ribs?”
Su Wudeng snapped out of it and shook her head, reaching out to gently stroke Coco’s hair. “No, I love them. It’s just… I suddenly understood something, that’s all.”
Lin Meiling noticed that the atmosphere had turned heavy, but she considerately chose not to pry. “Shopkeeper Su, if you ever need anything at all in the future, just let us know.”
Su Wudeng nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Aunt Lin, Uncle Lan, and our sweet little Coco~”
After lingering for another ten minutes, Uncle Lan and his family reluctantly took their leave. After all, they still had their own grocery store to manage.
Having been running ragged all morning, Su Wudeng finally had a quiet moment to sink into a chair and catch her breath. Right on cue, the system’s chime rang out in her mind.
[Congratulations, Host, on completing the task! Reward: 1,000 Hope Points and one additional traversal opportunity.]
[Current remaining traversal opportunities: 3.]
[The Pet Live Broadcast function will unlock soon. (Please work diligently to accumulate more Hope Points to unlock this feature.)]
Live broadcast? Does that mean it’s going to broadcast the process of me retrieving pets?
Su Wudeng’s brow furrowed. “Wait. It won’t broadcast the spiritual plants from the Great Prosperity Era, will it?”
The system responded instantly: [The live broadcast will strictly feature pet-related content. All other elements will be automatically optimized out of the feed.]
Su Wudeng let out a massive sigh of relief. Thank goodness. If the citizens of the interstellar era saw what she was doing, they would probably tear her to pieces out of sheer jealousy. To them, she would look like a madman casually ripping priceless, extinct spiritual plants out of the ground like common weeds.
Still, a live broadcast function was an incredible tool. It was the perfect way to introduce real pets to a wider audience.
Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. Live streaming… internet marketing!
Exactly. She didn’t have to sit around and wait for the system to unlock its own broadcast feature; she could leverage the existing Star Network for marketing right now!
Foot traffic on this remote street was abysmal, and local customers were highly unlikely to wander into her tiny shop on their own. Why not use the network to build an audience?
Wasting no time, Su Wudeng pulled out her phone. She logged into the sector’s largest video-sharing platform, which hosted everything from lifestyle vlogs to tech reviews.
But what should she film first?
She glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly noon—right around the cubs’ feeding time. Perfect. She would film a mukbang!
Su Wudeng quickly set up her phone on a small tripod. Then, she lined up the four little kittens across her lap. The cubs were incredibly well-behaved, their furry little heads nudging against one another as they jostled to find the coziest position.
Clearing her throat, she hit the record button. The camera focused entirely on the four vibrant balls of fluff.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to Pet Love Home. Our pets aren’t cold, unfeeling machines—they are living, breathing little angels!”
She gently stroked the head of the nearest kitten, continuing her introduction. “This right here is a Snow Crystal Cat. They have incredibly plush fur and love to cuddle. Please note: these are one hundred percent authentic, living pets, not robots!”
As she spoke, her fingers combed through the snowy coat, which felt as smooth as pure silk.
“Can you see it? The soft texture, the natural body warmth, and…” She paused deliberately just as one of the kittens let out a massive, wide-mouthed yawn. “…that perfectly lazy little expression! Every single bit of this is a real, spontaneous reaction, not a pre-programmed algorithm.”
“Hehe, but don’t let their innocent looks fool you; they’re actually massive little gluttons.” Su Wudeng brought a large feeding bottle into the frame. “Alright, everyone, it’s lunchtime!”
She picked up the bottle and began feeding the first kitten. The tiny Snow Crystal Cat widened its round blue eyes, clamping its paws tightly around the nipple as it began to suckle aggressively.
“Look at how frantic it is—it’s like it thinks someone’s going to steal its meal!”
She introduced them one by one as she fed them. “This little one is Xiaohua, our biggest cuddle bug. This one is Xiaoxue, who has already found her forever home! And over here is Xiaoyun…”
Suddenly, Xiaoxue accidentally splattered a drop of milk right onto Xiaoyun’s face. Before Xiaoyun could even process what had happened, Xiaoxue leaned over and began licking the milk off Xiaoyun’s face with her tiny tongue. Xiaoyun blinked, stunned for a second, before instinctively turning around to lick Xiaoxue back.
With those two leading the charge, the remaining kittens immediately joined in, resulting in a chaotic, adorable pile of kittens grooming one another.
Su Wudeng nearly burst out laughing. Once they had all finished eating and settled down obediently, she concluded the recording.
She spent the next hour editing the footage, adding a cheerful background track, and typing out a catchy title: Exclusive Footage: Infant Snow Crystal Cats Having Lunch! Cuteness Overload, You Have Been Warned!
“And… upload! Now we just wait for the platform monitors to approve it.”
Su Wudeng rewatched the finished clip with immense satisfaction. The more she looked at the Snow Crystal cubs, the more captivated she became.
Right as she was losing herself in the sheer cuteness of the video, her phone suddenly gave a violent, prolonged vibration.
Ding! One million credits have been deposited into your account ending in 3466!
“Holy crap,” Su Wudeng gasped, her jaw dropping.
Who on earth would send her that kind of money?
She ran through the possibilities, realizing there was only one person it could be: her sister, Su Yulan.
Sure enough, a text message popped up a second later:
Sis, I looked into the situation with Xiaowei. I’m sorry. I didn’t have all the facts.
…Also, I’m transferring one million credits to you. If you want to keep running the shop, use this to keep it open.
Su Wudeng was stunned. Seeing that her words hadn’t convinced her to abandon the shop, Yulan had chosen to drop a cool million just to finance her dream?
She immediately hit the video call button.
The screen flickered to life, and the two sisters stared at one another across the digital divide, temporarily lost for words.
Ultimately, Su Wudeng broke the silence. “Yulan, why would you send me a million credits? You’re at an elite academy; you need every cent for your tuition and supplies. I have plenty of food and drink here.”
Su Yulan pouted, looking away awkwardly. “You… you should use that money to stock up on high-end mechanical pets. Those actually sell.”
A profound warmth bloomed in Su Wudeng’s chest. Her sister really was a classic textbook case of a proud, tsundere girl—sharp-tongued but incredibly soft-hearted.
“Don’t worry, I already have a plan to turn the shop around. I’m transferring this money right back to you. Keep it for when you need to purchase materials at the Beast Taming Academy.”
“Stop lying to me,” Su Yulan snapped defensively. “Do you think I don’t know exactly how bad your situation is?”
Su Wudeng opened her mouth to explain, but a sharp, intrusive voice suddenly cut into the call. “Hey, are you talking to your sister?”
Su Yulan’s roommate, Pei Xueqing, shoved her face into the camera lens, looking at the screen with a critical, complaining expression. “Look, you’re Yulan’s older sister, right? Our freshman final exams are right around the corner. This is a massive milestone for her. If you actually care about her, why haven’t you bought her any spiritual plants to help her prepare?”
Su Yulan’s face contorted with anger, a flash of panic darting through her eyes. She whirled around, snapping fiercely at Pei Xueqing. “Pei Xueqing! Keep your mouth shut in front of my sister! Respect my privacy and get out of my space right now!”
Startled by the uncharacteristic fury, Pei Xueqing scoffed, rolling her eyes as she backed away from the screen in a huff.
Su Wudeng, however, had already pieced everything together.
She fixed a stern glaze on her sister. “Yulan, look at me. Don’t you dare lie. That one million credits was meant for buying a spiritual plant, wasn’t it?”
“If you still consider me your older sister, stop hiding things from me. Tell me exactly what’s going on.”
Su Yulan lowered her head, her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. “Sis… it’s really fine. I don’t care about that ten percent boost to my mental strength. I can pass the finals on my own merit…”
But under Su Wudeng’s unyielding, serious gaze, she finally cracked and spilled the entire truth.
Su Wudeng absorbed the information, her mind racing. Star Soul Grass? A mid-grade spiritual plant that improves mental control over mechanical beasts by ten percent?
She remembered the plant she had harvested during her trip to the Great Prosperity Era—the Astraea Grass. It was a legendary, top-tier spiritual plant renowned for vastly multiplying a tamer’s mental capacity. Compared to that legendary treasure, this “Star Soul Grass” was probably nothing but garbage.
“Yulan, I am sending this million credits back to your account immediately,” Su Wudeng stated firmly. “Furthermore, forget about the spiritual plant. I will handle it. I’ll send you what you need when the time comes.”
Panic flared in Su Yulan’s eyes, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Su Wudeng cut her off with a sharp look.
“Yulan, if you still respect me as your sister, do not argue with me on this.”
The words died in Su Yulan’s throat. A profound sense of grievance welled up inside her. How could her sister say that? Of course she respected her!
In the end, she could only ask in a small, timid voice, “Then… what are you even planning to do?”
Su Wudeng seized the opportunity to smooth things over. “Relax. My shop is exclusively transitioning to selling real, living pets now. I have no need to purchase mechanical inventory, and I am definitely not strapped for cash.”
Su Yulan stared at her, utterly blank.
“We’re doomed,” she muttered after the call disconnected, her mind completely numb. Real pets? Has my sister completely lost her mind? Didn’t those creatures go extinct ages ago?
“Oh, what a touching display of sisterly devotion~” Pei Xueqing’s mocking tone pierced the silence. She had clearly been eavesdropping from the corner of the room.
She turned her nose up, her expression dripping with sarcasm. “Doesn’t your sister run a failing shop in a bottom-tier fourth sector? And she claims she’s going to procure spiritual plants for you? What an absolute joke.” She let out a cold sneer. “Even my father had to pull massive strings just to get ahold of that Star Soul Grass. If you actually rely on your sister’s hollow promises, you are guaranteed to fail these finals.”
Su Yulan clenched her fists so tightly her nails bit painfully into her palms. Deep down, she knew Pei Xueqing was right—her sister had absolutely no connections or resources to obtain something as rare as a spiritual plant.
Pei Xueqing’s voice suddenly softened, masking her malice with a layer of fake concern. “Tell you what… if you’re willing to swallow your pride and join my team, I might just convince my dad to help you out. What do you say?”
“No.” Su Yulan’s face went completely blank, her voice icy. “Pei Xueqing, this is the absolute last time I am warning you. If you dare utter another disparaging word about my sister, don’t blame me for what comes next.”
Pei Xueqing froze, genuinely shocked. She had never expected the usually passive, mild-mannered Su Yulan to display such a vicious, dangerous edge.
Without another word, Su Yulan turned on her heel and stormed out of the dorm, slamming the door shut behind her.
Left standing alone in the room, Pei Xueqing’s expression darkened into pure venom.
“Am I wrong? What could a pathetic, fourth-sector peasant possibly do to help you?”
She hissed under her breath, “Fine. If you want to let your sister drag your entire future down into the dirt, be my guest!”
