September 8th, Wednesday.
Noon.
After finishing the work meal delivered by Slackin’ Delivery, Pei Qian took a couple of sips of his sugary soda, feeling satisfied as he lay motionless in his executive chair for a moment.
Slackin’ Delivery was one of Pei Qian’s most satisfying businesses at present. It not only perfectly solved the dining problem for all employees but also consistently lost money with no sign of becoming profitable.
The only issue was that it relied solely on Slackin’ Internet Café and could only deliver to areas surrounding the café, making it impossible to expand rapidly like Headwind Station.
But Pei Qian wasn’t in a hurry. As long as Slackin’ Internet Café 2.0 could be opened quickly, Slackin’ Delivery’s market range would further expand, and losses would naturally increase rapidly.
Having eaten and drunk his fill, Pei Qian closed “Turn Back to Shore” on his computer.
It had been another morning of suffering, but he was finally beginning to see the light.
Pei Qian had become very skilled at using the “Salvation” weapon. If he could persevere for about another week and complete the Six Realms of Reincarnation ending, it would be a great success for him.
Not only would it mean he was free and wouldn’t have to suffer through this game anymore, but it also meant that the game had finally met the system’s requirements and could be successfully released.
Once the game was released and bombed in sales, resulting in huge losses, then for Pei Qian, the happy times would begin!
Thinking of this, Pei Qian couldn’t help but smile.
He opened AiLiDao, planning to watch a few funny short videos to help digest his meal.
First, he ignored the 99+ private messages urging him to update.
Being a famous content creator on a site like AiLiDao was quite troublesome—every time he logged in, there was a pile of messages, most of which were private messages urging him to update.
With his busy daily work schedule, how could Mr. Pei find time to update videos every day?
By now, Hardcore Reviews had already smashed more than a dozen digital products, and even Pei Qian himself felt the show had become somewhat boring.
Yet viewers remained enthusiastic, running over to urge updates whenever a new digital product appeared, asking Pei Qian to smash this or that, never growing tired of it.
People were also becoming increasingly demanding. At first, they wanted him to smash phones worth three to five thousand yuan, but now they wanted to smash laptops and headphones worth over ten thousand yuan.
If it weren’t for the considerable amount of money from AiLiDao’s incentive plan, Pei Qian would have quit long ago!
Pei Qian planned to occasionally smash new digital products to maintain interest, especially when Shenhua sent free products. After all, once this cycle ended, casually losing a few hundred thousand would be enough to meet his needs, so why bother updating videos so diligently?
Next, Pei Qian saw a new video from Fei Huang Studio in the digital products section: Episode 4 of “A Day in the Life of a Great Inventor.”
Fei Huang Studio maintained a very stable update schedule. Although this video’s content was much longer than “Mr. Pei’s Daily Life,” they still maintained weekly updates. Among AiLiDao content creators, they were already considered quite diligent.
After all, many content creators were part-time, while Fei Huang Studio was a full-time company with people and money, so naturally, they could produce content faster and more consistently.
Pei Qian didn’t open this video, mainly because he was afraid his heart couldn’t take it.
If one day this video series secured sponsorships from some international brands, it would be nothing short of catastrophic news for Mr. Pei. He’d need to take quick-acting heart medication before watching each episode.
Since Pei Qian had no good way to stop it now, he could only bury his head in the sand and pretend not to see it.
Looking at his feed, none of the humorous content creators he followed had updated anything substantial.
So Pei Qian finally opened his favorite section: the “Kichiku” (evil and funny) remix videos.
Kichiku videos are the ladder of human progress.
However, upon opening the Kichiku section this time, Pei Qian suddenly noticed something different from before.
A new person had joined the Kichiku All-Stars!
Glancing at the titles of these recently uploaded Kichiku videos, the identity of this lucky person was obvious.
“Fried Pork Knuckle: The Brand New Version You’ve Never Tried”
“Congratulations to Fried Pork Knuckle for Joining the Kichiku All-Stars”
“Fried Pork Knuckle: Join Me for a Hot-Blooded Battle Song”
“Fried Pork Knuckle Power-Up Version: Sing Along With Me”
Pei Qian randomly clicked on a few and found they were quite catchy.
Moreover, these videos had decent view counts. Zhang Zuting’s induction into the Kichiku All-Stars seemed to be a done deal.
He just didn’t know if a Kichiku video with over three million views would appear, directly elevating him into the annual Kichiku Hall of Fame.
Pei Qian was smiling, but suddenly stopped.
He quickly opened the backend data for “Hot-Blooded Battle Song Power-Up Version” and took a look.
After checking, Pei Qian let out a long breath.
Phew…
Fortunately, the data hadn’t changed significantly.
Compared to before, there was indeed some improvement, but overall, it was still far from recovering costs.
This was within Pei Qian’s expectations. After all, they had run so many advertisements, the game itself was of decent quality, and long-time players gave it rave reviews. It would be impossible for there to be no data growth over such a long period.
As long as the data growth was slow enough, it would be fine.
The advertising + micro-client dual filters directly filtered out a large number of players. Those who downloaded and continued playing the game were less than one-twentieth or one-thirtieth of those who clicked on the advertisements.
So, Pei Qian was temporarily at ease. Even if the Kichiku videos became popular, he could still rest easy for now.
“Maybe I’m overthinking it.”
“Back then, Zha Zha Hui’s Kichiku videos were also very popular, almost to the point of universal recognition, but among AiLiDao viewers, how many people would play a game endorsed by Zha Zha Hui just because of a Kichiku video?”
“Some definitely would, but not many.”
Without this psychological burden, Pei Qian interestingly clicked on search results for the keyword “Fried Pork Knuckle” and began watching related videos.
Among these were many Kichiku videos and marketing account videos riding the trend, as well as some interview records of Zhang Zuting.
Zhang Zuting had also been busy recently. Although he was somewhat past his prime, he still consistently played supporting roles in many films.
One of these was an interview video where Zhang Zuting was asked about his thoughts on the nickname “Fried Pork Knuckle.”
In the video, Zhang Zuting appeared helpless and resigned.
“Now the whole country is laughing at me.”
“They’re all imitating the way I talk: ‘Hello everyone, I’m Fried Pork Knuckle, if you’re my brother, come and gnaw on me…'”
“Many of my fans are asking why, as someone who’s won Best Actor, I would make such an awkward advertisement.”
“That day, I was truly acting seriously, and when I filmed the first take, I was pouring my emotions into it and was fully invested. But then the partner told me they wanted me to be more relaxed and casual, not to act so seriously, to give everyone a friendly feeling.”
“So I just said it casually, and unexpectedly, that take was accepted.”
“I specifically emphasized that they should find a voice actor because my standard Mandarin isn’t great, but in the end, they didn’t find one and just used my original voice. I don’t understand what happened.”
“Later, when the advertisement became popular, I asked if we could reshoot it, but the partner said it wasn’t necessary, and so it became what it is now.”
“Actually, to this day, I still don’t understand why it became so popular.”
The host was also laughing uncontrollably: “Have you ever considered terminating the partnership?”
Zhang Zuting shook his head helplessly: “No, because apart from this advertisement being a bit poorly done, the partner is quite good in other aspects, and the collaboration has been pleasant.”
“And since everyone likes to call me Fried Pork Knuckle, then call me that. As long as everyone is happy.”
“If everyone feels that calling me this is friendly and interesting, then call me that. I don’t mind.”
Host: “So this advertisement hasn’t caused you that much trouble, has it?”
Zhang Zuting was momentarily at a loss for how to answer. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Trouble… it should be fine. It’s mainly my friends, like Alan, Xiong, Jiaqiang, and others—they’re all laughing at me.”
“Every time we go out to eat, they bring it up. It’s annoying.”
…
Closing the video, Pei Qian felt a bit guilty.
Ah Although he had increased publicity for Old Zhang, making him unable to hold his head up in front of his friends was unfair to him.
That being the case, as a friend, I need to help him out.
Pei Qian casually searched for the friends Zhang Zuting had mentioned.
Sure enough, birds of a feather flock together. These friends of Zhang Zuting were even more past their prime than he was.
Zhang Zuting had at least been a Best Actor before, but his friends had all been supporting actors, so naturally, they were in worse shape now, basically not even landing supporting roles anymore.
Not to mention filming advertisements, some had even resorted to performing at real estate openings.
The most unfortunate one, unable to get roles and caught in a contract dispute with his management company, was living in financial hardship and could only rely on assistance from Zhang Zuting and other friends to get by.
Of course, although some of Zhang Zuting’s friends were doing well and others poorly, they had deep friendships with each other. Making fun of Zhang Zuting for the advertisement was certainly not serious—just jokes between friends.
After searching for the current situations of these individuals, Pei Qian’s eyes moistened.
Life is hard.
As a kind person, Pei Qian decided to help them out.
Pei Qian randomly picked four friends who were close to Zhang Zuting, the ones he had specifically named in the video, and sent the list to Lin Wan.
“Give you another 2 million yuan to bring these four people over to film a set of ‘Hot-Blooded Battle Song Power-Up Version’ advertisements, to be played alongside Zhang Zuting’s.”
Since these people were so past their prime, their asking prices wouldn’t be high. Giving each 500,000 yuan for a two-year endorsement should be about right.
Good friends should all be together.
This way, Zhang Zuting wouldn’t be mocked anymore, and his friends’ financial situations wouldn’t be so dire.
Killing two birds with one stone—how wonderful!
Pei Qian couldn’t help but sigh. Ah, I’m truly a good person.