eurekapd Chapter 298 Happy Farm
Chapter 298 Happy Farm
May 11, 1998, 9:00 AM.
In the Star Technology office building, the development and testing area on the third floor had been temporarily converted into a war room. A row of long tables against the wall held twelve monitors, each displaying a different data monitoring interface.
Server load, new user registration, paid conversion, social sharing—all the curves are still calm, like the calm sea before a storm.
David sat at the control panel, three monitors side by side in front of him. The middle one displayed the Star Language user backend, the left side showed the server status, and the right side showed the real-time logs. His right hand held the mouse, his index finger hovering over the left button, not touching it.
Eric crouched beside the server rack, holding a portable monitoring terminal. Green characters flashed on the screen, refreshing every three seconds. His eyes were fixed on the screen, unblinking.
Catherine stood at the long table on the other side, three sheets of printed paper spread out in front of her. The papers were printed with twenty numbers—U1 to U20. Each number had a handwritten note following it: login time, playtime, number of friends invited, and what was said. She held a pencil in her hand, the tip hovering behind U7, not falling.
The clock on the wall pointed to nine o'clock. "Start pushing notifications," Lingyun said.
David pressed the Enter key.
A progress bar pops up on the screen: Pushing version update... 1%... 5%... 12%... 34%...
"Server-side update complete," Eric said. "Silent push notifications are now activated; users will automatically receive the new version the next time they open Xingyu."
"What about the client coverage progress?" Catherine asked.
"We expect to reach 85% of active users within an hour." Eric pulled up a chart. "Currently, Xingyu has about 3.2 million daily active users. At this rate, 2.7 million people will be able to see the new feature entry point before noon."
The progress bar has reached 100%.
A line of green text pops up on the screen: Version update complete, new features activated.
David opened the Star Language test environment interface, logged into a test account, and entered his personal space. In the upper right corner of the space page, a small icon appeared in the previously blank area—a six-by-six grid with gray-brown lines, like a piece of land waiting to be cultivated.
He moved the mouse over it, and the icon enlarged slightly, displaying a line of small text: Happy Farm.
A 6x6 grid fills the screen, each square representing grayish-brown soil with fine shadows around the edges, resembling real soil. Above the grid is a thin toolbar with three icons—a seed bag, a watering can, and a shovel. To the right of the grid is an information panel displaying "Level: 1," "Experience: 0/100," and "Gold: 200."
Below the grid is a line of small text: "Click on an empty space, select a seed, and start planting."
David did not move.
He looked at the gray-brown grid as if it were a real piece of land.
"It's starting," he said.
9:15 a.m.
Stanford University, Computer Science Department computer lab.
More than twenty workstations were lined up in two rows, all with their screens lit up. Most students were writing code, with the occasional student switching to browse the web. In the corner, a boy in a gray hoodie was staring at his Xingyu personal space.
His name is Alex, a sophomore majoring in computer science. He's a long-time user of Xingyu, level 15, a Red Diamond member, and his personal space visits rank in the top 1% of the entire site. This morning when he opened Xingyu, he noticed a small icon in the upper right corner of his personal space.
A 6x6 grid.
"Happy Farm?" he read aloud.
He nodded.
The page refreshes. A patch of grayish-brown land appears on the screen. A grid, seed bag, watering can, shovel. The information panel shows he has 200 gold coins.
"What the hell..." he muttered, moving the mouse to the seed bag.
The seed bag icon is slightly enlarged, displaying the text: "Click to select seeds".
他单击。种子袋展开，里面有三样东西：萝蔔种子（5金币）、玉米种子（10金币）、番茄种子（15金币）。每个种子旁边都有成熟时间和预期收益——萝蔔2小时，收益20金币；玉米8小时，收益50金币；番茄24小时，收益120金币。
He selected a radish seed. The mouse cursor changed to the shape of a seed. He moved to the first cell in the top left corner and clicked.
The seeds fell. The soil in the square turned dark brown, with a small patch of green appearing in the middle—a newly sprouted radish seedling.
The information panel has been updated: "Radish, time remaining: 1 hour and 59 minutes".
He waited for ten seconds, but the radish seedlings didn't change.
He selected another square and planted a second radish. Then he selected another, and a third. In a 6x6 grid, he planted nine radishes.
"Boring," he muttered, preparing to close the page.
But the mouse hovered over the close button without clicking it.
He stared at the patch of land, where nine radish seedlings stood in neat rows, vibrant against the gray-brown grid. The information panel displayed remaining time: 1 hour and 43 minutes.
He recalled his roommate's conversation from last week: "It would be great if Star Language made a game. It doesn't have to be too complicated, just something to pass the time."
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 9:23 AM. His next class was at 10:30, so he had a little over an hour to go.
He opened his friends list, found his roommate's name, and sent a message:
"Did you see that Happy Farm?"
My roommate replied instantly: "What farm?"
"The newest feature is in the top right corner of your personal space."
"I'll go take a look."
Thirty seconds later.
My roommate messaged me: "Grown radishes, and then what?"
"I don't know. Let's wait for the harvest."
Neither of them spoke again, but Alex didn't close the page. He minimized the window and continued coding, checking back every few minutes. The radish seedlings grew a little, then a little more.
9:50 AM. The radish seedlings had grown into complete radishes, with vibrant green leaves and plump roots. The information panel displayed: "Mature and ready for harvest."
He clicked on the rewards. The nine radishes turned into a pile of gold coins, which jingled and fell into his account. The gold coins increased from 200 to 380. The experience points increased from 0 to 90.
"10 more experience points are needed to upgrade," the information panel prompts.
He clicked on the seed bag again. This time there was an additional option—pumpkin seeds, 20 gold coins, maturation time 4 hours, yield 80 gold coins.
He bought pumpkin seeds and planted them in the newly harvested squares. Then he looked at the remaining empty space and bought some radishes to plant.
It was exactly 10:00 AM. The school bell rang. He closed the webpage, grabbed his laptop, and ran to the classroom.
He spent the entire class thinking about that farm.
10:30 a.m.
Berkeley, student housing.
A girl named Jessica was brushing her teeth. Her phone was on the sink, the screen lit up, showing her chat with her roommate.
Roommate: "Did you see that Happy Farm game?"
Jessica held a toothbrush in one hand and typed with the other: "What?"
Roommate: "Starry Sky is a new app that lets you grow vegetables in your personal space. I just planted tomatoes."
Jessica, toothbrush in her mouth, opened Xingyu (a Chinese online forum). A small icon had indeed appeared in the upper right corner of her profile. She clicked on it.
A 6x6 grid, seed bag, watering can, shovel, 200 gold coins.
She chose corn seeds and planted six squares. Then she put down her phone and continued brushing her teeth.
After brushing her teeth, she picked up her phone and glanced at it; the corn seedlings had already sprouted a little bit.
She put her phone back on the sink and started washing her face.
After washing my face, I took another look and saw that the corn seedlings had grown a little.
She picked up her phone, went back to her room, and sat on her bed. Her roommate sent another message:
"Have you planted it?"
"We planted corn."
"How long does it take to ripen?"
"Eight... hours? It says eight hours."
"So long..."
Jessica stared at the farm. Six squares were planted with corn, leaving thirty empty. The information panel showed she had 140 coins left. She then planted six more radishes in the empty spaces—the kind that harvest in two hours.
Then she put her phone next to her pillow and started changing her clothes.
She picked it up and looked at it three times while changing her clothes. Each time, the corn seedlings had only grown a little bit.
"Am I sick?" she muttered to herself.
But she didn't close the page.