October 15, Monday.
After confirming that “Ghost General 2” had no major issues and could be completed on schedule, Pei Qian felt much more at ease.
Bao Xu would keep an eye on things for a few more days before heading to Shennongjia, so the Suffering Travel business shouldn’t be a concern for now.
He could concentrate his energy on solving the key problem of this phase.
That is, poaching talent!
Eric had returned to Europe last Friday, and it was unclear when he might come back—perhaps as soon as two or three days, or as long as a week.
Of course, there was also the possibility that after consideration, he might decide to stay with Dyarke Group, but this seemed unlikely.
During their dinner, Eric’s attitude had clearly wavered. As someone without real authority but who still took the blame, Eric couldn’t possibly be without complaints.
So besides waiting for Eric, Pei Qian had another important task: figuring out how to poach Zhao Xuming, that valuable asset.
Having just Eric alone was still somewhat risky.
What if he was marginalized by his subordinates?
After all, Eric would be facing the most ferocious group of employees in history—deeply influenced by the Tenda spirit, with strong honor and sense of mission, all with “success” written across their foreheads!
In such an environment, if Eric became assimilated, that would be troublesome.
Therefore, bringing in Zhao Xuming to assist Eric, enabling this golden partnership to bring their “success” experience from Longyu Group to Tenda, was also extremely important.
Sometimes, two swords combined could exert maximum effectiveness.
But how to poach Zhao Xuming was a significant problem.
Eric had found a loophole to avoid non-compete agreement issues, but Zhao Xuming couldn’t do the same.
As a legitimate senior executive at Longyu Group, his non-compete agreement would certainly prohibit him from jumping to a domestic gaming company.
Have him resign first, citing health reasons?
These executives all had some health issues from long-term work, so getting a medical examination report to muddle through should be quite easy.
But the problem was, while Zhao Xuming could resign, he couldn’t join Tenda.
Once he joined, Longyu Group wasn’t stupid—they would immediately file a lawsuit.
With a signed agreement in black and white, even hiring the most brilliant lawyers in the country would be useless; they would still lose the case.
Not to mention whether the system would allow paying the penalty, but what if Longyu Group demanded continued enforcement after receiving the penalty, preventing Zhao Xuming from working at Tenda?
This was entirely possible.
After much consideration, Pei Qian felt he couldn’t use force in this matter.
Because emotionally, legally, and rationally, secretly poaching Zhao Xuming wasn’t right.
The only option was to negotiate with Longyu Group, reaching some form of benefit exchange that would make them voluntarily release Zhao Xuming.
As mature companies, business decisions were based on interests, not emotions.
As long as the conditions were enticing enough for Longyu Group, they would probably be eager to send Zhao Xuming over with a grand ceremony, beating drums and gongs.
But the question remained: what conditions would entice Longyu Group?
Pei Qian really didn’t know.
Offer one of Tenda’s games for Longyu Group to publish?
That definitely wouldn’t work.
Longyu Group would certainly agree, but Pei Qian felt this sacrifice was too great just to get Zhao Xuming. It wasn’t worth it.
Although Pei Qian was desperate for “talent,” he wasn’t that desperate.
Setting aside potential damage to Tenda’s image, the key issue was that the extra profit would be hard to offset!
Better to let Longyu Group make their demands.
Once they proposed conditions, he could negotiate specifically, and as long as an agreement was reached without violating system rules, there would be no problem.
After careful consideration, Pei Qian decided to call Zhou Muyan from Tianhua Studio.
Pei Qian wasn’t familiar with Longyu Group’s boss or executives since there had been no business dealings, and there had been unpleasantness over the IOI issue.
Approaching them directly would not only be awkward but might also result in inefficient communication.
As far as Pei Qian knew, Longyu Group had previously published games from Tianhua Studio, with relatively deep cooperation between them, and Zhou Muyan had good relations with them.
Having Zhou Muyan act as an intermediary, building bridges, might yield better results.
After dialing, Pei Qian briefly explained his thinking.
The message was clear: communicate with Longyu Group, I want to poach Zhao Xuming, let them name their price!
Emphasizing straightforwardness, no beating around the bush.
Zhou Muyan was surprised, not because of Pei Qian’s overt poaching—such actions weren’t common but weren’t rare either.
What surprised him was that Mr. Pei would go to such lengths to poach Zhao Xuming.
Did Tenda really need such a person?
GOG had already beaten IOI thoroughly. Even if there was a vacancy, couldn’t they just promote someone from within Tenda? Why bother poaching Zhao Xuming?
In Zhou Muyan’s impression, while Zhao Xuming was relatively reliable, could he be described as highly capable? Capable enough for Mr. Pei to specifically request him? That seemed unlikely.
“Mr. Pei, are you sure you want to poach Zhao Xuming? Longyu Group certainly won’t let him go easily. What if they make unreasonable demands?” Zhou Muyan asked.
Pei Qian chuckled: “That’s why I’ve come to you, we need you to ‘communicate’ well with them.”
“How capable Zhao Xuming is, I know, you know, and Longyu Group knows.”
“If Longyu Group makes a reasonable demand, then everybody wins, each gets what they need, and cooperation is pleasant.”
“If Longyu Group makes unreasonable demands… they don’t really think Tenda can’t function without Zhao Xuming, do they?”
“The 1024 Digital Festival is approaching. If I happen to be in a bad mood, I wouldn’t mind arranging some activities for GOG and various games a few days early.”
“I think Longyu Group should understand this principle. If they don’t, Zhou, please help them understand.”
Zhou Muyan: “…”
Well well, he detected the threat in Mr. Pei’s words.
Mr. Pei’s meaning was clear: if Longyu Group obediently releases Zhao Xuming, the two companies could cooperate; if they make unreasonable demands or refuse to release him, Mr. Pei might get upset and take action against Longyu Group.
Of course, there wouldn’t be any severe consequences—at most, GOG might hold some events causing IOI’s domestic server data and revenue to plummet temporarily, or they might target other games Longyu Group was publishing.
But undoubtedly, this would affect cold, hard cash.
Zhou Muyan’s job was to act as a persuader, helping Longyu Group understand the stakes, while coordinating to determine a mutually satisfactory compensation.
As for Zhao Xuming’s opinion…
Zhou Muyan thought he probably wouldn’t have any objections—he should be doing backflips of excitement that Mr. Pei personally requested him.
Moreover, going to Tenda would certainly provide better treatment and career prospects than Longyu Group.
After thinking it through, Zhou Muyan nodded and said: “Alright, I’ll give it a try. I’ll call back if there’s any progress.”
He and Mr. Pei were old acquaintances. Tianhua Studio had its own GPL team and had received plenty of support from Mr. Pei in recent years. Small favors like making a phone call or creating connections were trivial matters.
After hanging up, Pei Qian patiently waited while reviewing work reports from various departments.
…
More than an hour later, Zhou Muyan finally called back.
“Mr. Pei, Longyu Group’s condition is: you design a game, which our Tianhua Studio will develop, and then hand it to Longyu Group for operation. The three of us would cooperate for mutual benefit, with profit sharing open to discussion.”
“Actually, Longyu Group initially wanted to publish a Tenda game. I immediately said that was impossible and too demanding. After negotiations, we settled on this condition.”
“I think this condition is reasonable. What do you think, Mr. Pei?”
Pei Qian nodded slightly. It seemed Zhou Muyan’s “communication” had been quite effective.
This condition wasn’t excessive.
In Zhou Muyan’s view, asking to publish an existing Tenda game was essentially forcing a share of the profits.
Tenda’s games were all market-verified, successful, profitable games. If Longyu Group published them, wouldn’t they just be collecting money while doing nothing?
Even though Zhao Xuming was an executive, his breach of contract penalty would at most be a few million, while a game’s revenue could far exceed that.
So Zhou Muyan immediately rejected the idea, telling Longyu Group they were dreaming and warning them not to play with fire in front of Mr. Pei.
If Mr. Pei got angry, who knew what he might do.
But the current condition was actually reasonable.
The development costs would be shared by Tianhua Studio and Longyu Group, with Pei Qian only responsible for providing the design.
After the game was completed, the three parties would share the profits.
Strictly speaking, this was like Pei Qian making a “technical investment.” Even if the game failed and lost money, he wouldn’t bear any losses—Tianhua Studio and Longyu Group would cover everything.
Although there was a risk of failure, from Longyu Group’s perspective, this risk was almost non-existent.
Who didn’t know Mr. Pei was a game design genius? Every game he made was a hit!
Even if it didn’t make huge profits, it wouldn’t lose much either.
Trading Zhao Xuming for a game that might be profitable was definitely not a loss.
Pei Qian fell silent. Clearly, there were some misunderstandings about his game design abilities…
Zhou Muyan and Longyu Group definitely assumed that Mr. Pei’s games were all designed through exhaustive effort, working day and night, with great diligence.
But in reality, Pei Qian hadn’t put in much effort, and his designs were very casual…
After some thought, Pei Qian said: “I can accept this condition, but I have three requirements.”
“First, I don’t guarantee the game’s success.”
“Second, I want to parachute a designer into your studio to complete my design, and you need to develop according to his requirements.”
“Third, transfer Zhao Xuming first.”
Pei Qian’s meaning was clear: let’s be upfront—don’t come looking for me if the game loses money.
Also, Pei Qian’s ideas would be rather incomplete. If handed to Zhou Muyan, he would be completely shocked and wouldn’t know how to develop them.
So Pei Qian thought he could assign this task to Min Jingchao.
After Eric and Zhao Xuming replaced him, Min Jingchao could go to Tianhua Studio to complete this game’s design. Whether it made money or not, at least the game would be developed.
This way, he would have fulfilled his obligation.