Ma Yiqun quickly checked the comments section following the official novel of “Return to Shore” and discovered that many readers had come from playing the game.

Of course Ma Yiqun knew the game had launched—after all, he had worked with the editors to write the game’s storyline and had invested his heart and soul into it.

But what Ma Yiqun hadn’t expected was that so many readers would come to check out the novel.

Narrative design was Ma Yiqun’s original profession, so he understood the current state of the domestic gaming industry very well.

Story planners were basically “reskin planners.”

In China’s current gaming industry, storylines are the least valued part of a game.

Especially in mobile and web games, many project teams didn’t even hire dedicated narrative designers—they simply had a somewhat decent writer from the execution team double as one.

Even for some PC games that required substantial storylines, companies wouldn’t spend big money to recruit specialized narrative designers. At most, they’d find a fresh literature graduate, pay them a basic salary, and call it a day, emphasizing their stinginess.

In short, most Chinese game companies didn’t value storylines, and most players didn’t either.

Was it because players didn’t care about storylines, so game companies didn’t develop them? Or was it because the storylines game companies produced were so terrible that players didn’t want to read them?

This was a chicken-or-egg question with no clear answer.

In any case, the current reality was that storylines in domestic games weren’t valued.

Even outside China, for foreign AAA games with excellent storylines, players who specifically sought out the original novels were extremely rare.

Ma Yiqun believed that “Return to Shore’s” official storyline was well-written, but surely it shouldn’t have achieved such impressive results?

So the current situation left Ma Yiqun completely unprepared and utterly shocked.

He hurried to carefully investigate what was going on.

Among the comments was Qiao Laoshi’s fan observation group, so Ma Yiqun followed the trail and found Qiao Laoshi’s videos.

After watching them, Ma Yiqun suddenly understood.

So that was it—it wasn’t just about the storyline!

Those foreign AAA games did have excellent stories. But a game’s storyline and a novel’s storyline were, to some extent, redundant.

Some novels even had incomplete storylines, with games greatly expanding upon the novel’s foundation.

From a content perspective, if the novel was a 7, then the game achieved a 10.

Considering that games were an artistic medium with strong interactivity and visual impact, much more expressive than novels with their pure text, the actual gap between novels and games was even greater.

Most players wouldn’t think to read the original novel because it was at most a condensed version of the game.

But “Return to Shore” was completely different!

The game’s storyline was ambiguous and obscure. If the novel’s storyline was a 10, then the game only achieved about a 5.

Moreover, much of the game’s storyline merely revealed the tip of the iceberg, leaving breadcrumbs in item descriptions and elsewhere.

Yet “Return to Shore” was an exceptionally well-made game with profound depth. Players formed strong emotional connections with the characters during gameplay, naturally becoming deeply interested in the game’s story!

When encountering unresolved plot points, they naturally came to read the official novel to resolve their confusion.

Ma Yiqun couldn’t help but marvel: How brilliant!

Why hadn’t they thought of this approach when writing the official storyline?

Ma Yiqun hadn’t been particularly invested in the storyline or official novel; it was Zhu Xing’an who had maintained enthusiasm all along, otherwise the official novel wouldn’t have continued updating until now.

“I failed to recognize something so important and nearly ruined Mr. Pei’s grand plan—that was truly unacceptable.”

“Looking at it this way, Zhu Xing’an is a promising talent.”

“Wait, now isn’t the time to consider these things—we need to quickly capture all this attention!”

Ma Yiqun suddenly realized a crucial issue: as CEO of Endpoint Chinese Web, it was time for him to take action!

Mr. Pei had gone to great lengths to direct so many new users and readers from the game to Endpoint Chinese Web—they had to retain them!

Ma Yiqun knew clearly that “Return to Shore” would continue to bring steady traffic to the website for some time. In the coming days or even weeks, the site’s traffic would continue to rise.

But this traffic was fleeting. Most people were just coming to take a look at “Return to Shore’s” official novel, and how many would actually stay was uncertain.

Therefore, they had to find a way to keep everyone!

Ma Yiqun made a swift decision and called Zhu Xing’an over.

“Quick, arrange for the operations team to create a promotional activity to try to retain all these new readers!”

“Didn’t the website previously have a free reading activity for new users? Let’s increase the scale based on that!”

“Do it according to the game’s seven-day login approach.”

Worried that Zhu Xing’an might not understand the game’s seven-day login concept, Ma Yiqun explained it in detail.

For a game, if players consistently logged in every day for the first seven days, they would basically form a habit and be retained.

To rack their brains trying to keep players, web and mobile games had developed a seven-day login system. In simple terms, during the player’s first seven days, they would be given various activities each day with excellent rewards, thus cultivating a login habit.

This approach, though clichéd, was undeniably effective.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t have gradually evolved into a standard feature in almost all web and mobile games.

“Arrange some activities for readers every day, such as reaching a certain reading time or adding certain books to their collection.”

“These activities shouldn’t be too difficult—just something they can complete with a few clicks.”

“As for rewards, the second and seventh days are most important. The seventh day should have the best reward, with the second day slightly less attractive, but still enticing enough.”

“Any good ideas?” Ma Yiqun looked at Zhu Xing’an.

Zhu Xing’an thought for a moment: “For the second day login, give a week of free reading access, and for the seventh day, a month of free reading?”

“Um… that’s a bit repetitive,” Ma Yiqun shook his head. “And for most readers, there’s not much difference between a week and a month of free reading.”

“If they enjoy reading on our site, a week of free access would be enough to keep them; if they don’t, even a month wouldn’t help.”

“We still lack some more exciting rewards.”

Zhu Xing’an thought again: “Then let’s collaborate with the game? Since they came from the game, they probably care more about it.”

Ma Yiqun clapped his hands: “Great! That’s a good idea!”

“Collaborating with the game will definitely be very attractive to players!”

“And this doesn’t require additional funding or reporting to Mr. Pei. I can just privately discuss it with Li Yada.”

“So it’s settled. First day login gets three days of site-wide free reading; second day gets seven days of site-wide free reading; seventh day gets an in-game collaborative item.”

“There will be rewards for logging in on other days too, like giving some Endpoint coins, discount coupons, and so on.”

Zhu Xing’an nodded: “Alright, I’ll go tell the operations team right away to quickly develop the activity plan.”

The employees of Endpoint Chinese Web immediately became energized.

Training troops for a thousand days to use them for one hour—Mr. Pei had brought so much traffic to the website, and if they couldn’t retain it, they would have failed Mr. Pei’s expectations and might as well pack up and leave!

Meanwhile, Ma Yiqun sent a message to Li Yada to discuss the specific plan for the game and website collaboration in detail.

…

…

Headwind Logistics Headquarters.

Currently, Pei Qian had already opened over a hundred Headwind Stations, and was about to expand to more than two hundred.

These Headwind Stations were scattered across various districts of Jingzhou City, but daily administrative work, like office duties, required a dedicated office area.

Headwind Logistics’ headquarters was currently in a two-story commercial building. The ground floor operated as a Headwind Station for daily deliveries, while the second floor served as Headwind Logistics’ office area.

Once Headwind Logistics expanded further, they would definitely relocate to a new office.

Pei Qian went straight to the second floor to find Lü Mingliang.

Lü Mingliang had adapted quite well to his new job. His desk was covered with documents, and he had switched to a lightweight business laptop, looking quite professional.

“Mr. Pei, it’s just a small matter, why did you come personally?” Lü Mingliang stood up to greet him and poured tea.

Pei Qian took a sip of tea, sitting on the sofa and catching his breath.

Clearly, Lü Mingliang had no idea about Mr. Pei’s predicament.

What did he mean by “just a small matter”?

This was no small matter!

His entire livelihood depended on Slackin’ Internet Café and Headwind Stations!

Without these two major money-burners—Slackin’ Internet Café and Headwind Stations—Mr. Pei might have already been driven to the rooftop.

Of course, Mr. Pei had always maintained his composure even when faced with disaster, so he naturally remained calm now, quietly sipping his tea.

“How are things going with the Headwind Stations?”

Lü Mingliang was well-prepared: “Don’t worry, Mr. Pei, the new Headwind Stations have all been arranged and are being prepared at full speed. My plan is to simultaneously recruit personnel and rent locations, ensuring the Headwind Stations open as quickly as possible!”

As he spoke, Lü Mingliang produced a ready-made report, detailing the locations and layouts of these new stations, as well as the current recruitment advertisements and hiring status.

Pei Qian was somewhat surprised.

The reason Pei Qian had come to personally supervise was that he feared Lü Mingliang wouldn’t accurately understand his sense of urgency.

But after hearing Lü Mingliang’s report, Pei Qian realized he had overthought it.

Lü Mingliang was quite reliable!

It seemed that reassigning Lü Mingliang to Headwind Logistics had been a very correct decision.

Because Lü Mingliang’s characteristic was obedience—whatever Mr. Pei said, he would faithfully execute without taking initiative.

Entrusting a vital department like Headwind Logistics to Lü Mingliang made Pei Qian feel much more at ease.

After completing his report, Lü Mingliang smiled and said: “Mr. Pei, does this Headwind Logistics layout have some deeper meaning?”

Pei Qian was startled.

Deeper meaning? What deeper meaning?

The deeper meaning was that if I don’t spend money quickly, I’m finished!

Pei Qian remained silent for a moment: “Why do you ask?”

Lü Mingliang wore an “I understand” expression: “If these Headwind Stations weren’t related to future plans, why would Mr. Pei be so eager to expand them in such a short time?”

Pei Qian thought about it. Oh, that made sense.

From Lü Mingliang’s perspective, Headwind Stations didn’t have such urgent time sensitivity—whether they opened a month earlier or later wouldn’t make much difference.

But why was Mr. Pei so concerned about it?

Obviously because it was closely connected to future plans!

Pei Qian sipped his tea and nodded slightly, implicitly agreeing.

Think whatever you want, as long as you help me quickly open these Headwind Stations and spend my money as fast as possible—I’ll be eternally grateful.

Having finished his tea, Pei Qian felt reassured. After giving Lü Mingliang a few more instructions to work with utmost urgency, he turned to leave.