October 12th, Tuesday.
Tenda Network Technology Co., Ltd.
Li Yada had just finished communicating with personnel from several translation studios.
After consulting with Mr. Pei, Li Yada had contacted several reputable domestic translation studios and sent them a portion of the game’s text for sample translation.
Li Yada deliberately selected some puzzle elements from the game to assess the true capabilities of these translation studios.
In similar side quests, clues were often provided through poems, leading players to corresponding hints that triggered relevant storylines. The translation difficulty for these elements was quite high.
On one hand, the meaning of these poems needed to be completely translated without missing any key information, allowing foreign players to solve the puzzles based on the translated content.
On the other hand, the translations needed to be faithful, expressive, and elegant. If such beautiful classical poems and ancient texts were reduced to plain language in translation, they would lose their charm and beauty.
So, this tested the translators’ skills, and ordinary translators simply wouldn’t suffice.
These translation studios had already submitted their sample translations, but when Li Yada showed the content to Assistant Xin, they all received negative responses.
The translations weren’t necessarily wrong, but they lacked aesthetic appeal.
Li Yada’s English level was average, but she could roughly discern the quality of the translations.
As for Assistant Xin, having worked as an assistant to a vice president at a well-known foreign company and being fluent in three languages, she might not be perfect at translating herself, but she could immediately spot the quality of existing translations.
Therefore, Li Yada briefly communicated with these studios, asking them to retranslate with higher standards, otherwise, they would regrettably be unable to collaborate.
After dismissing these translation studios, Li Yada couldn’t help but feel that Mr. Pei was indeed right.
This matter really couldn’t be rushed!
Translating “Return to Shore” was considerably more difficult compared to other games. If they rushed, it would inevitably result in machine translation quality, compromising the overall quality.
Hastily releasing multilingual versions would only damage their reputation, which wasn’t Tenda’s style at all.
Tenda had always been about sparing no expense, doing everything possible to perfect every detail—this was the core spirit that every Tenda employee had learned from Mr. Pei.
“Forget it, let’s follow Mr. Pei’s advice and not rush into this.”
Li Yada had also tried to find some top translators in translation circles, but it was difficult to find them in such a short time, mainly because she lacked the right connections.
There were some professional translators on official resource sites, and she could also contact certain translation studios like the ones she had found, but it was hard to guarantee exceptional quality.
Some truly excellent experts often weren’t interested in game translation.
They might typically translate contemporary masterpieces or blockbuster films. In comparison, translating game text was considered tedious work. Even if approached, they might not agree.
Moreover, how to contact these individuals was a significant problem in itself.
So Li Yada knew this couldn’t be rushed and could only proceed slowly.
However, there was new progress with the collaboration with Ma Yiqun’s Endpoint Chinese Web.
Previously, Ma Yiqun had approached Li Yada about collaborating between the official novel and the game, and Li Yada had readily agreed.
It was beneficial for both parties, and since they were both Tenda properties, it was a simple matter.
After discussing it, they quickly came up with a good collaboration plan.
Originally, Ma Yiqun had thought of a seven-day login activity—as long as users participated in the website’s activities for seven days, they could receive a small reward from the game.
Li Yada thought about it and decided to take it a step further by simply integrating the accounts.
Including Endpoint Chinese Web, Tenda Games, TPDb website, and so on—wouldn’t a unified Tenda account work for all of them?
This way, all Tenda game players could directly log into the Endpoint Chinese Web using their game accounts, and any rewards could be distributed directly according to the account.
This wasn’t complicated and could be implemented quickly.
As for rewards from the game side, Li Yada initially thought of providing consumable items, such as Three Souls and Seven Spirits for upgrading, or items for enhancing weapons.
But on second thought, that seemed too stingy.
For a one-time purchase single-player game, why be so miserly?
Just give them an exclusive appearance!
However, designing a new model now would be too late, so Li Yada had a realization and decided to give players a special item that could change the character model. They would use an existing medicinal pill icon and call it the “Disguise Pill,” which could be used repeatedly.
This wouldn’t be difficult to implement; the programmers just needed to modify the code a bit.
Of course, players couldn’t transform into any model arbitrarily. Some monster or boss models were extremely large, and transforming into them might cause mysterious bugs. So this item was limited to only transforming into models with builds similar to the protagonist, including minor enemies and NPCs.
Additionally, the item had a certain cooldown period, making it primarily a recreational item.
Nevertheless, some of the NPCs in the game included decent-looking women who, while not extraordinarily beautiful, were considered attractive within the game’s world view.
So Li Yada thought, this should be quite appealing to players, right?
She arranged for it right away.
After assigning the task to her subordinates, Li Yada habitually opened TPDb to check the recent rating changes for “Return to Shore.”
Recently, all Tenda employees had developed the habit of checking TPDb whenever they had time, since the site’s ratings directly determined their bonuses for the next month, so they couldn’t ignore it.
How much money the game earned was secondary—that was just extra income. If they really wanted bonuses, the project’s reputation had to be explosive.
“Hmm? 9.1 points already!”
Li Yada perked up—the rating was skyrocketing!
How could it have increased so much in just one day?
Looking more closely, she discovered that the media ratings had finally been updated!
A large portion of TPDb’s weighting came from media ratings, directly extracting data from authoritative gaming media. The higher these ratings, the higher the project’s overall score.
Li Yada scanned the reviews from several gaming media outlets and found they all lavished praise on “Return to Shore.”
“Following ‘Game Producer,’ Tenda Games has once again redefined innovation with a refreshingly classic work.”
“This rapidly rising game company consistently brings players fresh new experiences, transforming them from complaining to praising, from rejection to acceptance, all within just a few weeks.”
“Tenda Games always delivers high-quality productions, as if the term ‘cutting corners’ doesn’t exist in their dictionary.”
“Previously, no designer believed such a difficult hardcore game could succeed domestically, but Tenda clearly achieved it. ‘Return to Shore’ makes players willingly suffer, and even enjoy it.”
“It’s foreseeable that this game’s perfect combat system will become a benchmark for some time to come.”
“The epitaph design is ingenious, and certain gameplay details reveal the designer’s inspiration and talent.”
“The difficulty mechanism of this game is also worth learning for all designers.”
Similar viewpoints were common across major game review websites and gaming media.
These media evaluations didn’t align with players’ initial assessments because, after more than a week, player sentiment toward the game had undergone a major reversal, which these game review media had all observed.
Moreover, these review media wouldn’t give low scores just because of suffering or inability to progress—they maintained professional standards.
Ordinary players might see “Return to Shore’s” high difficulty, feel angry about their suffering, and vindictively give low scores, but these gaming media could see more:
The game’s excellent quality;
Outstanding combat system;
Superb world-building and art style;
Complex and profound storyline;
Promotion of Chinese culture to a certain extent;
Innovations in gameplay and systems that showed direction for future action games.
So, incorporating all these advantages into the game evaluation system, it wasn’t surprising that the game received high scores!
What made Li Yada most proud was the review from the official platform.
“‘Return to Shore’ depicts a world of despair, born from traditional Chinese culture and artistically reshaped, giving players a refreshingly new experience.”
“This is a world of Six Realms collapse and the arrival of the Final Dharma Age—a world of despair. The excellent difficulty setting makes players feel as if they are truly in desperate straits, suffering through repeated deaths. But this world also hides countless secrets that intrigue players, compelling them to stand up again after each resurrection, eager to find that sense of mission to save everything!”
“Epic grandeur, challenging gameplay, rich background stories, and the philosophical implications contained in the game make ‘Return to Shore’ an adventure worth savoring!”
“Particularly praiseworthy is that at a time when Chinese-style games are declining and all domestic manufacturers are imitating foreign companies, Tenda Games has taken a completely original path of independence.”
“‘Return to Shore’ has successfully integrated traditional culture into the story background, game content, and spiritual core, playing a crucial role in the dissemination of traditional culture in the new era.”
“It is hoped that other game manufacturers and designers will also strengthen their ideological construction, learn more, better promote traditional culture, and help the gaming industry quickly establish cultural confidence!”
Of course, for official platforms, any praise must be accompanied by tangible support.
“Return to Shore” undoubtedly received several more featured spots, which was to be expected.
Li Yada couldn’t help but marvel—Mr. Pei is truly Mr. Pei, casually creating another classic game!
As for official recommendations… what were those? Mr. Pei had received so many that his hands were full!
Li Yada read through these media praises for “Return to Shore” once more, feeling quite pleased.
“Although I took over midway, the game’s success is partly due to my contribution as well!”
While Li Yada was reading, the receptionist hurried over.
“Staff from the official platform called, saying they want to discuss the issue of overseas version translation.”
“What? Staff from the official platform?”
Li Yada didn’t dare delay and hurriedly went to answer the phone.
The official platform had Tenda’s office phone number, so they called the reception directly.
Li Yada was a bit excited, as this was the first time she would be speaking with staff from the official platform.
After a few polite exchanges and pleasantries, the other party quickly got to the point.
“We were wondering if you’re interested in releasing a multilingual version of ‘Return to Shore’ for promotion in overseas markets?”