After returning from Mr. Pei’s office, Zhao Xuming immediately went back to his own office and began drafting the proposal.
This proposal had been delayed for quite some time, mainly because Zhao Xuming had been hesitant, unable to firmly establish the overall direction, let alone address detailed issues.
Now that Mr. Pei had made a decision, completing these details became simple.
The entire proposal was Zhao Xuming’s suggestion, with Mr. Pei only making some minor adjustments, so writing it proceeded quickly.
As Zhao Xuming rapidly structured the proposal, he simultaneously attempted to understand the deeper meaning behind Mr. Pei’s modifications.
“Mr. Pei didn’t make major changes to the content of the proposal, which indicates my understanding was correct, and Mr. Pei largely agrees with it.”
“However, my proposal had some minor flaws that Mr. Pei pointed out.”
“I need to analyze this carefully.”
Zhao Xuming began by examining the original purpose of his proposal, combining it with Mr. Pei’s adjustments for comprehensive analysis.
First, the purpose of this proposal was definitely to sacrifice some short-term benefits in exchange for more long-term gains.
More precisely, it meant using some of the money from selling broadcasting rights in the short term to gain popularity for GOG tournaments.
If Rabbit Tail Live could also receive some popularity from this, that would be even better.
Zhao Xuming had developed his plan with this mindset.
From a long-term perspective, how could they maximize popularity?
Obviously, the more streaming platforms broadcasting the event, the more people would be able to watch the matches.
A small portion of viewers were accustomed to watching on certain platforms, and if they had to switch platforms, they might feel uncomfortable. Additionally, some viewers might simply forget the official start date of the competition or hadn’t been paying much attention previously, but would click in if they saw it on their regularly used platform.
Therefore, to maximize the popularity of the GOG Global Invitational, it would be best if all streaming platforms featured the broadcast, preferably on their homepages.
If they sold exclusive broadcasting rights to just one platform, they would certainly earn more money in the short term, but it would somewhat affect overall popularity.
Of course, this didn’t necessarily indicate right or wrong. For many viewers, watching this world championship was essential, and switching platforms wasn’t a big deal. Even with exclusive broadcasting, popularity might not decrease significantly.
How to balance popularity versus money was a complex issue, and each company had different answers. None of these answers were necessarily wrong—it was simply a matter of choice.
But for Mr. Pei, who always took a long-term view, future popularity clearly took precedence over short-term profits.
That’s why Zhao Xuming had proposed this plan.
The central idea of this plan was to lower the threshold as much as possible, allowing smaller platforms to obtain broadcasting rights at relatively affordable prices. With a minimum threshold established, smaller platforms would pay less, larger platforms would pay more, with prices remaining within everyone’s affordable range.
Furthermore, using promotional resources for discounts also meant exchanging short-term revenue for long-term popularity.
Many people might think: if streaming platforms paid a substantial amount for broadcasting rights, wouldn’t they dedicate their best promotional resources to it?
That wasn’t necessarily the case.
Streaming platforms had complex considerations regarding their featured recommendations, influenced by many factors.
While tournaments had high popularity, they primarily brought popularity to the platform, not necessarily tangible income. Featuring them prominently might not offer the best value.
If the same resources were given to a streamer that the platform wanted to promote—one who could effectively encourage viewers to spend money—nurturing such a streamer might bring more value to the platform.
Moreover, recommendations experienced diminishing marginal returns. For instance, if a homepage had three major promotional spots, giving the first to a GOG tournament might be quite effective, but giving the second and third would likely see diminishing results.
If these resources were allocated to other tournaments or popular streamers, the combined benefits might be better.
Therefore, after purchasing broadcasting rights for a tournament, streaming platforms wouldn’t necessarily maximize promotional resources but would adjust based on their actual situation.
Some platforms might deliberately limit promotional resources.
They believed that tournament viewers were like people shopping for appliances in a mall—once they’re in the building, they’ll find their way to what they want, even if it’s on the top floor.
Tournament viewers were the same. Once on the platform, a small entry point in a corner of the homepage would suffice. As long as people could find the GOG Global Invitational, they would click through.
Therefore, giving the best promotional spots to the GOG Global Invitational might be somewhat redundant. A scrolling banner would be enough, with other promotional spots better used for streamers to boost site revenue and promote their own talents.
If GOG completely dominated the market, that would be one thing, but currently, ioi still existed, and both games were holding their world championships simultaneously.
This inevitably created competition on streaming platforms, preventing GOG from maximizing its promotional resources.
The current proposal could legitimately include required promotional spots in the contract, since Tenda had ostensibly made concessions on financial matters.
If it were a straightforward, one-time transaction with fixed pricing, asking these platforms for promotional spots would seem somewhat unjustified.
Zhao Xuming reviewed the entire rationale of the proposal and felt very satisfied.
I’m amazing to have come up with this plan in such a short time!
Of course, he hadn’t forgotten that this was ultimately due to Mr. Pei’s guidance.
Initially, Zhao Xuming’s thinking had been completely closed off, and the three proposals he’d presented were all conservative and conventional.
But after Mr. Pei provided some inspiration, Zhao Xuming’s mind opened up, leading to this unique proposal.
Now Zhao Xuming somewhat understood why Tenda’s department heads were all so impressive.
Because every time they developed a plan, they received Mr. Pei’s guidance—this was direct teaching by example!
Over time, such improvement was no small matter.
However, there was still one aspect of the proposal that Zhao Xuming didn’t fully understand: Mr. Pei’s adjustment requiring the fee rules to be changed from charging based on actual viewership numbers to charging based on the popularity metrics of tournament livestreams.
This change would inevitably create a loophole: some platforms might deliberately lower their popularity metrics to pay less.
“Perhaps Mr. Pei calculated that these streaming platforms would all put on a brave face, willing to pay more just to inflate their popularity metrics?”
“Yes, that’s possible.”
“After all, these large streaming platforms care most about their image. Higher popularity means better-looking financial reports, making the platform appear to be thriving.”
“Anyone who actively lowers their popularity metrics would lose face, which is essentially equivalent to actual losses, as it sends a negative signal to the outside world with many adverse effects.”
“But is that all there is to it?”
“Large platforms might care about their image, but smaller platforms might not!”
Zhao Xuming felt this might be one reason, but probably not the entire explanation.
This condition might constrain large platforms to some extent, but not necessarily smaller ones.
Smaller platforms already had low popularity, so what did they have to lose? They could essentially get the GOG Global Invitational broadcasting rights for free.
“Did Mr. Pei not consider this point? Or does he not care if smaller platforms get a free ride?”
“That’s unlikely.”
“Mr. Pei has always been uncompromising with competitors and wouldn’t go easy on them just because they’re small platforms.”
“I understand now!”
“This requirement isn’t only binding for those prominent large platforms but also for smaller platforms that don’t care as much about their reputation!”
“This matter shouldn’t be viewed from the perspective of individual small platforms but should be expanded to a global view!”
Looking solely from the perspective of a small platform, it might seem straightforward—be shameless, lower the popularity metrics, freeload on GOG broadcasting rights, and pay Tenda less. This appeared to be an unavoidable situation.
But if the perspective was elevated to see the bigger picture, the situation changed!
Because the broadcasting rights were being distributed so widely, with almost every platform getting a share, there would naturally be competition between platforms.
If small platforms lowered their popularity data, it wouldn’t merely result in a loss of face but would trigger a chain reaction.
First, everyone would seize this opportunity to make horizontal comparisons of various platforms based on GOG Global Invitational popularity.
Previously, all platforms had inflated their popularity metrics—everyone was wearing underwear, so to speak.
But actively lowering popularity metrics now would be equivalent to actively removing one’s underwear!
If your tournament popularity was low, it indicated your entire website had low popularity and didn’t rank well in the streaming circle. This would directly affect viewers’ and streamers’ first impressions of the platform.
Second, this popularity issue would, in turn, make viewers question the popularity of other livestreams on the platform.
If a platform lowered the popularity of the GOG Invitational while inflating the popularity of other livestreams, the data manipulation would be too obvious.
People already didn’t trust the popularity metrics of other livestreams, and now they would trust them even less. They might even suspect the entire platform was declining, with all popularity metrics being fabricated.
In other words, this wasn’t just a matter of saving face—it would significantly impact other livestreams on the platform and its ranking among other platforms!
Large platforms suppressing their own popularity meant transitioning from hot to cold; small platforms suppressing their popularity meant going from cold to freezing!
Following this line of thought, Zhao Xuming suddenly realized that what Mr. Pei had thrown at these platforms was actually a dilemma.
And the choices made in this dilemma would reveal valuable information!
“Beyond this, there must be another purpose: testing!”
“Mr. Pei must be using this opportunity to test these streaming platforms’ operational styles.”
“When Rabbit Tail Live makes its move in the future, it can target these streaming platforms based on their styles.”
If a streaming platform chose to put on a brave face, willing to pay more to inflate their popularity, it indicated the platform valued popularity highly.
If a platform deliberately lowered its popularity to freeload on broadcasting rights, it suggested the platform was short-sighted or in dire economic straits.
This was all extremely valuable data!
Under normal circumstances, streaming platforms wouldn’t make such difficult decisions, and even before such situations actually arose, the platforms themselves might not know how they would decide.
Tenda couldn’t normally obtain this information.
But when faced with financial decisions, the choices made by streaming platforms would be absolutely genuine.
When truly opposing a particular platform in the future, this information could serve as tactical reference.
This was essentially creating a character sketch of all streaming platforms.
Why had Mr. Pei relentlessly targeted ioi’s weaknesses during their competition, continuously launching various promotional activities and price wars?
It was because he had identified that Dayark Group, backing ioi, was obsessed with money and had internal disagreements, with far less determination and resolve for burning money than Tenda.
This current proposal could be seen as an assessment of all streaming platforms.
Based on their behavior in this activity, the temperament and nature of these streaming platforms could be determined, categorizing their threat level to Rabbit Tail Live into different tiers, preparing for the future.
Zhao Xuming didn’t know exactly what countermeasures Mr. Pei had reserved for these streaming platforms, but thinking about it, he already felt a chill.
A scene inexplicably appeared before his eyes.
In a jungle, a lion and a tiger, licking their wounds, stared at each other, ready to attack at any moment.
Around them lay the bodies of cheetahs, wolves, and various other animals.
Further away, small animals trembled—some wounded, some naturally small, all powerless to participate in this cruel competition.
But among the trembling small animals was an innocuous-looking rabbit, behind which was an old hunter hidden in the bushes, his gun barrel reflecting a cold gleam.
“Mr. Pei’s move is quite ruthless.”
“Perhaps this is Mr. Pei’s strength?”
“To make such decisions, one must first be determined to sacrifice many immediate benefits.”
“Most people can’t do this precisely because they’re blinded by immediate benefits and controlled by inertial thinking.”
“But Mr. Pei can remain completely unaffected, with a clarity of mind and decisiveness in decision-making that I’ve never seen before.”
The more Zhao Xuming thought about it, the more terrifying Mr. Pei seemed.
He appeared to care about nothing, yet actually understood everything, and had even prepared countermeasures in advance.
So the question was, had Mr. Pei prepared this plan early on, or was it a spontaneous idea?
Either way, it was frightening…
Zhao Xuming felt somewhat relieved that he was now on Tenda’s side.
If he had stayed with Longyu Group, after the ioi World Finals, he would probably have another big black pot to carry!
Zhao Xuming could only silently lament: “My former colleagues, please don’t blame me for being harsh—I have no choice in this matter…”
