October 19th, Wednesday, noon.
Qiao Liang put down his controller, paused the game on the big TV, and went to the door to get his takeout.
After moving to Jingzhou yesterday, he had already properly settled in. Qiao Liang planned to gather with his Jingzhou friends over the weekend. After all, it was a workday now, and Mr. Pei and the others should be quite busy without much free time.
While eating his Slackin’ takeout, he scrolled through his phone checking messages in his fan group.
“Old Qiao, it seems someone is using Tenda’s name to scam people. Do you want to ask internal staff what’s going on?”
“Yeah, isn’t this damaging Tenda’s reputation?”
“The most ridiculous thing is that this person even got verified on Weibo. It’s so deceptive!”
Qiao Liang was stunned.
Someone using Tenda Group’s name to scam people? And they even got verified on Weibo?
How brazen!
Qiao Liang immediately clicked on the link his fan posted in the group, jumping to the Weibo page.
“Tenda Ma Yang?”
“Verified as… Tenda Group internal employee?”
“Hmm… there does seem to be such a person.”
“Where have I heard that name before?”
Qiao Liang felt the name Ma Yang was somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t quite recall it at the moment.
Because all along, Old Ma’s department hadn’t had much contact with other Tenda departments. Many department heads only knew Old Ma by name but had never seen him in person, let alone Qiao Liang.
“I remember now!”
“Wasn’t he the one who invested in IOI and made five hundred million for Tenda?”
“Is someone impersonating him? That doesn’t seem right. Weibo’s verification shouldn’t be wrong.”
“Then what’s he doing?”
Qiao Liang felt a bit confused. If it were that Ma Yang, he should be among Mr. Pei’s right-hand men, definitely a high-level executive at Tenda Group.
How come he opened a Weibo account with so few followers, making it look like a fake account?
Clicking further into Ma Yang’s Weibo, he found only one post from last Saturday, saying he would randomly help people fulfill their dreams, but there had been no updates since that post.
Four days had already passed, and quite a few people had reposted and commented on Weibo. Some had even left payment QR codes, but there seemed to be no follow-up.
So these people thought Ma Yang was using Tenda Group’s name to scam people, and many were calling him a fraud in the comments.
Qiao Liang was puzzled—this shouldn’t be the case, right?
How could the mighty Mr. Ma break his promises?
Someone who made five hundred million for Mr. Pei wouldn’t scam people for just a few thousand yuan, would he?
Qiao Liang carefully examined the reposts and comments and found that they were all very simple, merely comments like “pick me, pick me” or “lowering the winning rate.”
“Could it be because these people’s messages are too simple?”
Qiao Liang suddenly became interested and reposted the content, writing about his dream in detail.
“Hello, Mr. Ma. I’m a new content creator powered by passion, but my fans always say my microphone is terrible. To give my fans a better video viewing experience and to better explain Tenda games, could you please help fulfill my dream by reimbursing me for a professional microphone? Thank you very much!”
He also attached a payment QR code at the end.
After reposting the Weibo, Qiao Liang didn’t pay much attention to it and continued scrolling through groups while eating.
However, after finishing his meal and checking Weibo again, he suddenly found that Mr. Ma had replied!
Among a sea of comments saying “You dare call yourself a new content creator? Have you no shame?”, Mr. Ma’s comment stood out like a firefly in the night.
“Your dream is good! But unfortunately, I can only help grassroots creators with fewer than 1,000 followers fulfill their dreams! Very sorry!”
Qiao Liang was stunned. Only helping grassroots creators with fewer than 1,000 followers fulfill their dreams?
What kind of bizarre rule was this?
Logically speaking, interacting with people who have more followers would generate more buzz, right?
This makes you look more like a scammer!
Sure enough, under Ma Yang’s reply, many of Qiao Laoshi’s hot-tempered fans had already started flaming.
“The scammer dares to show his face!”
“What kind of weird rule is this? Discriminating? Can’t people with more followers have dreams too?”
“I meet the conditions, why aren’t you responding to me?”
However, it was clear that some people were inspired by Qiao Liang’s Weibo and began to write about their dreams seriously.
“Hello, Mr. Ma, I’m a corporate slave. I want to resign because my company has been making me work 996, but I can’t gather the courage due to financial pressure. I don’t want money, I just hope you can help refer me internally so I can work at Tenda. Thank you very much! Of course, if that’s difficult, money is fine too.”
There were several similar replies.
After Qiao Liang reposted Ma Yang’s Weibo, many of his fans also flocked in. Though the vast majority didn’t believe it and were just watching, there were still some who tried their luck with a hopeful attitude.
Unexpectedly, after a few minutes, Ma Yang reposted that “corporate slave’s” comment.
“Internal referrals won’t work! To join Tenda, you must go through the unified examination—that’s company policy! But I can sponsor you with some money to prepare for the exam and buy study materials. I’ve already sent ten thousand yuan. Good luck!”
Soon, the original commenter also reposted the Weibo.
“It’s true! Thank you, Mr. Ma! I’m resigning right away to focus on preparing for the Tenda exam!”
Below was a screenshot of the payment received, though some key information was blurred out.
This Weibo immediately attracted a large crowd of onlookers.
“What? He sent money?”
“Did he not send money before because the dreams weren’t detailed enough?”
“Is this a plant? Are they working together to scam people?”
“Daddy! Help me fulfill my dream, too!”
Those who had been chasing and cursing Ma Yang on Weibo instantly changed their tune.
Though many people were still suspicious, even more began to write serious comments below!
Soon, new content began to appear on Ma Yang’s Weibo.
“Children should never suffer hardship. Wanting your child to drink safe milk every morning is a great dream! I’ve already sent five thousand. Ask me for more when it’s gone!”
“Want a fully automatic argument machine? This shows you have great artistic taste! I’ve already sent five hundred. Go place your order!”
“Want to work well but need good health first? I’ve already sent twenty thousand. Go to a proper hospital for a comprehensive checkup and buy some nutritional supplements! Also, a reminder to everyone to pay attention to their health!”
One Weibo after another quickly received enthusiastic responses from netizens.
“I received it! Thank you, Mr. Ma. I misjudged you before, and I apologize!”
“Mr. Ma, you’re truly my benefactor, thank you!”
“Daddy! I have a dream too, please help me fulfill it as well!”
Qiao Liang found this somewhat amusing. These silly internet users had no integrity.
Just a moment ago, they were cursing enthusiastically, but once they discovered he was sending money, their attitudes took a complete 180-degree turn.
After careful observation, Qiao Liang noticed some unusual aspects.
“This Mr. Ma’s way of sending money is unique.”
Giveaways on Weibo were already commonplace, and direct money transfers happened too, just less frequently.
In Qiao Liang’s view, people playing like this on Weibo were ultimately doing it for attention.
Paying for attention—the best way was actually through giveaways: they spread quickly, gained high attention, and the entire cycle of attention lasted very long.
Sending money directly was obviously far inferior to giveaways in terms of attention, since giveaways could involve dozens or hundreds of prizes, while sending money could only go to one person at a time. Moreover, giveaways could last a month, while sending money ended immediately, unable to continuously create buzz.
Even if someone chose to buy attention by sending money, the vast majority would choose to send it to celebrities with many followers, because that generated the most buzz!
Mr. Ma was doing exactly the opposite.
He didn’t buy a single follower, was extremely economical with words when posting on Weibo, and didn’t even come out to defend himself when so many people were calling him a scammer. He just silently waited for so many days before finally sending out his first sum of money.
Moreover, Mr. Ma seemed to have his own set of standards when selecting people.
He wouldn’t send money if the follower count exceeded 1,000, only giving to internet nobodies and grassroots creators.
He also wouldn’t send money if the message content was too brief or hollow. Even when many internet users shamelessly called him “daddy,” Mr. Ma remained unmoved, only sending money to those with substantial, sincere reasons.
And the reasons couldn’t be repetitive—copying others’ homework wouldn’t work.
After sending money, regardless of how grateful the recipient was, Mr. Ma would absolutely not reply with a single word, as if they were ships passing in the night—he’d give a helping hand and then part ways forever.
Qiao Liang had seen plenty of people spending money to buy attention on Weibo.
But people like Mr. Ma, who spent money yet seemed uninterested in the attention, were truly rare!
Qiao Liang continued to follow for several hours and noticed that Mr. Ma had stopped reposting on Weibo, probably calling it a day.
Before finishing, Mr. Ma posted one last Weibo: “Today I helped many friends fulfill their dreams, which made me very happy! I will continue to help friends fulfill their dreams in the coming days, so please stay tuned. Also, starting tomorrow, I will be livestreaming GOG. Please follow my livestream!”
In one day, he had gradually given out over a hundred thousand yuan, and his follower count had skyrocketed from three digits to tens of thousands.
However, many people were just hoping for handouts, only reposting and commenting on his Weibo without following him.
Mr. Ma didn’t seem to mind this point either. He didn’t require everyone to follow him and didn’t place any restrictions on commenters—he just sent money when he saw satisfactory replies.
As a result, he spent over a hundred thousand yuan but only gained tens of thousands of followers, and it didn’t seem to achieve a good promotional effect either—a complete loss.
Qiao Liang couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Ma didn’t understand marketing.
The way he spent money was far too inefficient!
The key issue was that there was no way to verify whether these people truly needed money or were making up stories. Of the hundred thousand plus that he sent out, some recipients genuinely needed the money, but there were certainly others who fabricated stories to deceive him.
He hadn’t grasped the essence of Mr. Pei’s marketing spirit.
But then Qiao Liang thought again—Mr. Ma was an investment genius after all, and there might be guidance from Mr. Pei behind the scenes. Most likely, there were deeper considerations?
Livestreaming GOG tomorrow—was there some special consideration for that too?
You know what, it was quite intriguing.
Although Qiao Liang himself was disqualified from participating because he had too many followers, he still followed Mr. Ma, planning to continue monitoring developments.