Yang Ruoqian liked complaints.
Not personally.
Personally, he preferred silence, tea, and a system panel that respected his suffering.
But as a business resource, complaints were beautiful.
Complaints had heat.
Heat created long messages.
Long messages created support work.
Support work created cost.
Cost created the small warmth that kept Yang alive inside.
After the version battlefield had become too quiet, he had written one hopeful phrase in the notebook.
Complaint pile.
Pile was important.
An archive was organized.
A queue was managed.
A board was dangerous.
A pile was honest chaos.
Honest chaos could not be searched easily.
It could not be summarized politely.
It could not be reused for training without someone first suffering through it.
At nine, Yang called Chang Zhiqing and the creator support lead.
The creator support lead entered with a tablet.
Yang disliked tablets.
Tablets made even chaos look scrollable.
"Creator complaints," Yang said.
