This match had dragged into the third round, where the battle was all about details.

Candy Town’s commander had been overly eager to build an early lead, exhausting all their War Manuals in the first two rounds. In contrast, the commander of Heroes of the Realm had deliberately saved theirs, aiming to turn the tide in the final round.

This “counter-strike” strategy proved to be an eye-opening spectacle for the audience.

Ultimately, despite being at a severe disadvantage in hero numbers, the Heroes of the Realm guild relied on Diaochan’s Alienation, combined with Zhang Jiao’s lightning chain and Lü Bu’s burst synergy, to swiftly clear the field and snatch a thrilling, desperate victory.

Xia Kucao praised, “What an incredible comeback from the brink! Fantastic play.”

Mengtu said excitedly, “At first, I thought they were done for—after all, their first squad was wiped out instantly, and their second squad took a three-for-six trade from Candy Town. Who would’ve thought they could turn the tables like this?”

Xia Kucao remarked, “That is the charm of competition. Until the very last second, no one can predict the outcome. Let us congratulate the Heroes of the Realm guild representative team on advancing to the next round!”

The live chat was flooded with countless “666” praise comments.

This 18v18 match made everyone realize the immense importance of the War Manual system.

Hero skills were fixed, but there were 36 War Manuals available. In every match, which specific manual a Lord brought and the exact moment they chose to use it remained complete wildcards.

Through the official tournament broadcast, the general public gained a much deeper understanding of the Guild Battle mode.

Of course, most players weren’t qualified to represent a guild in the tournament and were far more eager to see how the “Solo Tournament” was shaping up. Conveniently, the director switched the camera feed to the Solo Tournament arena.

This match happened to showcase a duel between a player named “Cheng Liu” and another named “Maomaotou.”

Seeing that familiar name, Mengtu couldn’t help but pause, saying, “Cheng Liu? Could that be the famous streamer, Liu-ge?!”

As a streamer for Lingmao TV, Xia Kucao wasn’t very familiar with creators from the Lanyu Platform. He looked at Mengtu: “Is he a streamer you know?”

Mengtu smiled and replied, “Yup. What a coincidence! I heard Liu-ge registered for the tournament, but I didn’t expect the director to randomly switch to his match.”

Many viewers in the live chat were spamming messages:

“Hahaha, does Liu-ge know he got picked for the official broadcast?”

“If he loses this match, he’s going to lose major face!”

“With Liu-ge’s skill level, he shouldn’t be dropping a match in the preliminary rounds, right?”

The match began shortly after.

The game featured a hero ban/pick phase. In the first round, it was Liu-ge’s turn to ban. Right out of the gate, he banned Lü Zhi, clearly unwilling to let his opponent run a rush-down comp.

Maomaotou banned Zhou Yu’s Fire Comp system.

Liu-ge followed up by banning Diaochan. Although she was a recently released hero, her skill Alienation could target two enemy heroes and force them into a duel to the death. Even though it was a ultimate skill usable only once per match, a ability that forced the enemy into “internal strife” was simply too oppressive.

She had a massive impact on team synergy—if she made you kill your own teammate at a critical moment, your entire follow-up tactic would crumble.

In the second round, Maomaotou banned Bian Que.

Both sides began selecting their fielded heroes. The Solo Tournament was a 6v6 format, and each player could carry three War Manuals. For this match, Liu-ge deployed a lineup featuring Cao Cao as the main DPS, Goujian and Dong Zhuo as two ultra-tanky “bodyguards,” Xishi responsible for crowd-control cleanses and disruption, and Hua Tuo alongside Cai Wenji as a dual-healer setup to stall the pace.

This kind of super-tanky counterattack playstyle was extremely time-consuming.

The match dragged into a stalemate, with both sides trading blows back and forth for over a dozen rounds while remaining deadlocked.

Mengtu commented, “Because Liu-ge’s lineup runs dual healers, his team’s health can constantly be maintained at a safe threshold. Cao Cao has counterattacks and burst damage, while Goujian can awaken for his own burst. As long as he stalls the opponent into the late game and calculates the cooldowns of key enemy skills, he can wipe them out in a single wave.”

Xia Kucao nodded in agreement: “Indeed, this counterattack style requires a player to be exceptionally patient. It gets much easier once you stall into the late game. The biggest danger is if Cao Cao or Goujian dies early on, leaving the team with insufficient damage.”

By the 16th round, Maomaotou was visibly struggling to keep up with the rhythm.

Although his damage output was strong, the opponent’s front line was exceptionally durable. With two healers constantly topping off health, any damage dealt with great difficulty was restored almost instantly, making it impossible to break through.

Maomaotou’s damage began to falter.

In the 16th round, his heroes’ skills were on cooldown, and two of his units were at low health. Liu-ge seized the opportunity immediately: Goujian’s burst combined with Cao Cao’s counterattack wiped out two of the opponent’s key DPS carries in a single wave.

Maomaotou’s lineup collapsed in an instant.

The match lasted half an hour, ending with a hard-fought victory for Liu-ge.

Mengtu chuckled, “Congratulations to Liu-ge on advancing!”

Even though the tank comp dragged out the rounds, the audience in the live stream watched with great relish.

Following that, the director continued randomly switching between match feeds while the two guest commentators provided deep-dive analysis.

Meanwhile, Xie Yunfan and Luo Hang were sitting in their office watching the broadcast.

Thanks to the professional production team Luo Hang had hired, the broadcast quality was top-tier. The two commentators possessed a profound understanding of the game and delivered exceptionally articulate breakdowns.

The live stream’s popularity climbed steadily; even for preliminary rounds, an immense number of players were tuning in.

Luo Hang felt a wave of relief and looked over at Xie Yunfan. “The players’ competitive enthusiasm is surprisingly high, isn’t it?”

Xie Yunfan said, “Mm. The matches have so many variables—late-game comeback turnarounds happen constantly, which makes it very entertaining to watch.”

If this tournament proved successful, they could host it annually moving forward to draw in even more players, allowing Turbulent Spring and Autumn to maintain long-term operational vitality.

When making games, Xie Yunfan usually handed them off to other planners once the title stabilized. However, because this game’s subsequent hero releases involved real historical figures, he couldn’t hand it over completely just yet.

It wasn’t like Millennium Love, where everything—from the male leads’ character designs to the writing and post-launch operations—was handled by the women on his team. That was an original story led by Shen Xingye, with entirely fictional protagonists, so there was no need for him to intervene in future content.

In contrast, he personally oversaw the main story, background lore, and detailed profiles for every hero in Turbulent Spring and Autumn. History couldn’t be carelessly bastardized; he wanted to faithfully recreate these historical figures in this alternate world as much as possible.

Therefore, he planned to personally monitor the content updates for the next few years.

With that in mind, Xie Yunfan said, “We can slow down the pace of upcoming main story updates. Now that the Three Kingdoms chapter is wrapped up and the hero roster is sizeable, let’s let players get thoroughly accustomed to it for a while first.”

Luo Hang asked, “You mean we shouldn’t release new main-story heroes in Season 2?”

Xie Yunfan thought for a moment before replying, “We can release ‘Side Stories’ to add some heroes from the Qin, Han, and Three Kingdoms periods. After all, players in our game have the ‘Dream Walking’ ability, allowing them to learn about hero backstories through dreamscapes anytime. Let’s delay the main storylines for the Sui, Tang, Song, and Ming dynasties for now—there’s no rush.”

Luo Hang smiled. “Sounds good. If you’re looking at long-term sustainability, rushing the main story isn’t ideal anyway. Rolling out events and side stories to expand the world-building is a great approach.”

When it came to pacing game updates, Luo Hang always deferred to Xie Yunfan’s judgment.

The two spent the entire afternoon in the office watching the matches, afterwards arranging media interviews for the guest commentators.

That evening, the internet was flooded with reports regarding the “1st Official Tournament of Turbulent Spring and Autumn.”

Although this wasn’t a professional esports league, discussion reached fever-pitch heights, eventually trending at the very top of social media search lists.

After the preliminaries concluded, the rematch phase began the following day.

The level of play in the rematches was noticeably higher. The strategic mind games between players were far more compelling—one match was so evenly contested that it dragged on for a staggering 40 rounds before concluding.

Xie Yunfan and Luo Hang kept a close eye on the broadcast throughout.

Three days later, the tournament finally entered the finals stage.

Every team and player capable of reaching the finals was guaranteed base rewards.

The competition in the finals was naturally fierce, with the entire player base watching closely. Which hero compositions would ultimately reign supreme?

From 100 down to 50, then 50 to 25, until the final day selected the Top 8 to enter group-stage round-robin matches.

Liu-ge honorably fought his way into the Top 8 of the Solo Tournament. Meanwhile, the guild randomly featured on Day 1—Heroes of the Realm—also secured a spot in the Guild Tournament Top 8.

The Top 8 phase delivered even more brilliant matches.

Many niche War Manuals that players rarely used in casual play made surprising appearances on stage.

For instance, Enticing the Tiger to Leave the Mountain could temporarily banish the opponent’s highest-damage carry from the field for one round. Most players had previously felt that a single-round banish wasn’t impactful enough—certainly not as useful as team-wide stealth manuals like Deceive the Heavens to Cross the Ocean.

Yet in high-level play, everyone discovered this manual was insanely effective!

To master it, you needed to predict your opponent’s burst window and time it precisely right when they were about to burst down your key unit, banishing their primary carry. This would instantly throw the opponent’s rhythm into total chaos.

Another heavily underused manual, Casting a Brick to Attract a Jade, also appeared frequently in tournament matches.

Its trick lay in having a low-ATK hero strike the opponent first. A few rounds later, activating Casting a Brick to Attract a Jade before your main carry attacked would double the damage dealt. This was equivalent to planting a “time bomb” on the enemy hero that could shatter their defensive line at any moment.

Stratagems like The Empty Fort Strategy and The Strategy of Sow Discord were also executed with masterclass proficiency by top-tier players.

Viewers tuning into the live stream declared: This has opened our eyes completely.

On January 25, the Grand Finals of the 1st Official Tournament of Turbulent Spring and Autumn officially kicked off.

This time, in addition to being broadcast live on Lingmao TV, a live viewing portal was embedded directly inside the game.

Holographic players could sit in their custom manors and watch the real-time match on their living room “big screens,” while mobile players could tap the “Tournament Live” video link inside the app.

According to backend statistics, combining the official stream with the in-game portal, peak concurrent viewership surpassed ten million.

This was rivaling the numbers of major competitive esports leagues for blockbuster games!

Under the watchful eyes of millions, the Guild Tournament Grand Finals saw Playground from Server 1 face off in an ultimate showdown against Heroes of the Realm from Server 8.

Playground was the largest guild in Server 1, boasting a massive roster of high-spending whale players, where the entry requirement was a “Full Codex” (owning every hero).

Conversely, Heroes of the Realm from Server 8 was practically unheard of prior to the tournament. However, because their match had been randomly selected for the official broadcast on Day 1, their commander’s miraculous comeback play had earned them widespread admiration and massive attention in recent days.

Mengtu said excitedly, “I never expected that Heroes of the Realm—the guild we randomly stumbled upon on Day 1 of the broadcast—would actually fight their way into the Grand Finals! I’ve been following their matches these past few days, and their commander’s tactical vision is exceptionally clear.”

Xia Kucao agreed, “Yes, this commander is very composed and excels at playing from behind.”

Mengtu added, “Playground’s commander is no slacker either. Their style leans toward aggressive early-game sweeps to establish an early lead. Today’s match is definitely going to be a sight to behold.”

Xia Kucao speculated, “Do you think Playground will deploy a rush-down comp for their first squad?”

Before the words fully left his mouth, both sides revealed their lineups simultaneously.

Playground’s first squad surprisingly deployed Eastern Wu’s slow-paced Water Comp.

Both commentators were stunned. Mengtu said in surprise, “Starting off with a slow-paced Water Comp right away? That doesn’t match their previous playstyle at all… Ah, I get it—they tailored this specific lineup to counter Heroes of the Realm!”

Xia Kucao laughed, “But Heroes of the Realm’s first squad also brought a Water Comp! What an incredible collision of minds!”

Both commanders had tried to mind-game and hard-counter each other, resulting in…

In Game 1, both sides fielded the exact same hero lineup!

The audience’s interest was instantly piqued:

“Now this is getting good!”

“Hahaha, it feels like fighting your own reflection in a mirror!”

“Water Comp vs. Water Comp—it all comes down to who can out-stall the other. With identical hero rosters, every skill usage and micro-decision is going to matter immensely!”

“The timing of War Manual activations will also be absolute key.”

This game was filled with highlights. Virtually every time a skill was used, Xia Kucao and Mengtu found endless subtle details to dissect and analyze—the play was simply too meticulous!

Xia Kucao noted, “Playground opened with Da Qiao’s team-wide Slow, followed by Xiao Qiao’s water attack to seize the initiative. But Heroes of the Realm immediately activated the War Manual The Empty Fort Strategy in the first round—nullifying the opponent’s skills entirely!”

Mengtu: “Having watched their previous matches, we all know Heroes of the Realm’s commander prefers a counter-strike, comeback-style approach. This is the very first time we’ve seen them activate a War Manual right at the opening!”

Xia Kucao said, “As the tournament progressed, major guilds grew familiar with each other’s command styles. Changing tactics unexpectedly in the Grand Finals might be the only way to catch an opponent completely off guard.”

A team could carry a maximum of three War Manuals per match.

Burning a manual right at the opening was undeniably risky and aggressive.

Yet, this bold decision by Heroes of the Realm’s commander paid off brilliantly.

With identical hero lineups on both sides, dodging the opponent’s key crowd control in the opening round disrupted Playground’s chain-CC rhythm. Starting from the second round, Heroes of the Realm acted one step faster in every single exchange.

As time went on, their advantage gradually snowballed.

The first round lasted 30 rounds. In the end, all six of Playground’s heroes fell, while Heroes of the Realm had three surviving units, pushing both sides into Round 2.

Playground immediately sent out Zhuge Liang to reclaim the tempo.

Round 2 was fiercely contested, but Playground only managed to claw back a slight edge.

For their second squad, Heroes of the Realm rolled out a bizarre lineup consisting of 5 Supports + 1 DPS. Their core damage dealer was none other than the hero with the highest critical hit rate in the current meta—Lü Bu.

Five-protect-one? Players were witnessing such an extreme funnel setup for the very first time!

Shielded by five dedicated bodyguards, Lü Bu was immune to most crowd control, taking action every single round. The only War Manuals capable of targeting a single-carry comp—Enticing the Tiger to Leave the Mountain and Borrowing a Knife to Kill Another—happened to be missing from Playground’s manual slots for this match.

Lü Bu slaughtered like an unstoppable demon, rapidly shattering the opponent’s defensive line…

For the third round, Heroes of the Realm deployed a Great Han rush-down team, instantly disintegrating Playground’s formation.

The audience was left thoroughly dumbfounded.

Mengtu announced, “Congratulations to Heroes of the Realm on winning the 1st Official Guild Tournament!”

Xia Kucao delivered a serious breakdown: “This commander isn’t just a master of strategic layout; she’s an absolute grandmaster at psychological warfare. Everyone knew this guild reached the finals purely by making miraculous late-game comebacks from behind. Who could’ve guessed that in the Grand Finals, they would completely abandon their signature style—stalling early to build an edge, securing it with an extreme 5-protect-1 setup in Round 2, and closing it out with a swift rush-down in Round 3?”

Mengtu chimed in, “Exactly! They proved to everyone that they can win from ahead just as masterfully as they do from behind. I truly admire this guild’s commander.”

Someone in the chat posted a message:

“The guild leader of Heroes of the Realm in Server 8 is actually a super badass lady~”

“I’m from Server 8, can confirm! The guild leader led the squad personally. All six tournament players were girls! The leader’s ID is ‘Ups and Downs,’ affectionately known as ‘Sister Luo’!”

“Word is she’s a Master’s student in Psychology, 666!”

The chat scrolled past too quickly for Mengtu and Xia Kucao to notice.

However, across the internet, discussions regarding the Guild Tournament champion team escalated rapidly.

Even Xie Yunfan took note of the news.

He hadn’t expected the winning commander to be a Master’s student in psychology—no wonder she was so adept at executing mind-bending reversals, reading opponent psychology, and crafting deceptive counter-strategies.

Seeing such high-level players fall in love with his strategy game brought a deep sense of pride to Xie Yunfan.

Although Playground from Server 1 lost the finals, as the top guild on the server, they demonstrated commendable sportsmanship, offering sincere congratulations to their Server 8 rivals.

Following the conclusion of the Guild Tournament, the Solo Tournament held that evening delivered equal parts excitement and spectacle.

As a renowned streamer, Liu-ge fighting his way into the Grand Finals came as a surprise to many. His live chat room was filled with comments:

“I thought you were just a comedy streamer, how did you make the finals?!”

“Liu-ge’s casual, comedic stream persona usually makes people overlook his actual skill level.”

“He always claimed he was a ‘skill-based streamer’ and I never believed him. I guess I believe him a little bit now~”

“Go for gold, Xiao Liu! Win the championship and I’ll send gifts in your stream!”

A massive number of streamers had participated in this tournament; several who usually boasted loudly about their skills ended up crashing out embarrassment, failing to even reach the finals.

Liu-ge had carved a path through tough competition to reach the top, demonstrating a remarkably versatile library of lineup combinations throughout his run.

On the very first day of public beta, he had whaled his way to a complete hero collection.

He had meticulously practiced every single hero off-stream, maintaining detailed spreadsheets on his computer to analyze skill synergies, optimal War Manual pairings for various compositions, and strategic matchups. He had always defined himself as a “technical streamer” and approached every game with utmost seriousness.

That dedication paid off handsomely.

Although his opponent in the Grand Finals was formidable, Liu-ge adapted with flexible thinking, using the Pick/Ban phase to precisely shut down the heroes that posed the greatest threat to his comps.

With every action phase, he remained patient, carefully weighing his options.

In the end, by a razor-thin margin, Liu-ge secured a thrilling victory to claim the championship title!

As his close friend, Mengtu couldn’t hide her joy: “Amazing! Congratulations to Liu-ge on winning the Solo Tournament Championship!”

Xia Kucao commented, “Liu-ge’s strategic logic is exceptionally meticulous. Particularly during critical turns, his adjustments to skill execution order completely threw off his opponent’s predictions. Strategy games heavily reward tactical depth. Once again, congratulations to Liu-ge on taking the crown.”

Official rules prohibited streamers from broadcasting during tournament matches to prevent opponents from stream-sniping their tactical commentary. At this moment, Liu-ge was lounging inside his gaming pod, flailing his arms and legs in wild excitement.

“Holy shit! I actually won the championship, ahhh! Time to share the good news with everyone, hehe.”

A moment later, Liu-ge’s stream went live.

He immediately changed his stream title to: “Official Tournament Champion — Live Now.”

Numerous netizens chimed in to tease him: “Look at that title, reeking of smugness!” “Just won the title and couldn’t wait a second to edit the stream name, huh? We can tell you’re thrilled.”

Many viewers showered him with stream gifts to celebrate.

In high spirits, Liu-ge generously set up a massive giveaway raffle to share the joy with his community.

…

With the conclusion of the finals, the week-long tournament officially came to a close.

Under Luo Hang’s strict oversight, the entire event ran flawlessly without a single unexpected hitch, earning enthusiastic feedback from participating players.

The overwhelming enthusiasm of “universal participation” brought immense delight to both Luo Hang and Xie Yunfan.

Every single player who registered received a commemorative avatar frame, while countless competitors drew rewards from the prize pools. Furthermore, the top 100 solo players and top 50 guild representative teams walked away with generous cash prizes.

Every participant gained something from the experience.

This inaugural tournament established a rock-solid foundation for the game’s future PVP modes.

Hosting an annual tournament represented a trivial prize expense for Qihang, but the massive player engagement and publicity it generated guaranteed long-term vitality for the game—a bargain by any metric.

After all, buying promotional banner spots on Weibo cost a fortune anyway; it was far better to reinvest those marketing funds directly back into the player community.

After consulting together, Xie Yunfan and Luo Hang issued an official Weibo announcement: Turbulent Spring and Autumn would officially host an Official Tournament every winter break moving forward.

This news triggered widespread celebration among players!

Naturally, any game would experience gradual player attrition over time, but their dedication to operating with a “long-term vision” was clear.

A feature-rich game, player-first operations, and an annual official tournament boasting a massive prize pool solidified Turbulent Spring and Autumn as the undisputed flagship of turn-based strategy MMOs, unmatched anywhere across the market.

In the wake of the tournament, a fresh wave of new players flooded into the game.

Some were enticed by the cash prizes, determined to study the game deeply to compete for ranks next year.

Others were captivated by the exquisite hero models, eager to collect historical husbands and wives. Still others were simply drawn in by the game’s overwhelming online presence, curious to see what the hype was about.

Following the tournament, a series of festive events launched for Chinese New Year in February, complete with a free “Spring Festival Limited Lord Skin” to retain existing players while welcoming newcomers.

By this point, Turbulent Spring and Autumn had firmly established its dominant market footing.

The staff at Yangfan Studio were curious—following past precedent, once a game stabilized, Xie Yunfan would delegate authority to another lead planner and move on to direct the next title.

Yet this time was different: Xie Yunfan showed no intention of stepping back.

The employees discussed it privately and concluded that because the remaining main story and hero roster were so vast—and balance numbers were critical for a strategy title—the boss simply didn’t feel comfortable handing it off just yet.

And that was indeed the truth.

Xie Yunfan refused to let this game’s stellar reputation falter.

For a strategy game, a single mismanaged update—whether a botched narrative beat or broken hero numbers—could trigger massive player churn if left unchecked.

Thus, he chose not to hand Turbulent Spring and Autumn over to anyone else.

Besides, with the core gameplay loop fully matured, all that remained was executing the planned story chapters, expanding the hero pool, and rolling out seasonal events—a workload he could comfortably oversee without excessive effort.

Luo Hang had already begun formulating plans to launch the game globally.

Xie Yunfan hoped that through this alternate world, people across the globe would come to know and appreciate these legendary historical heroes and their stories.