January 21st, Saturday.
Pei Qian tidied up his belongings and prepared to head home.
The company was already on holiday. Most departments would resume work on the eighth day of Chinese New Year, which was the Monday two weeks from now.
Departments like Slackin’ Delivery and Against the Wind Logistics would restart work on the second day of Chinese New Year, with rotating shifts from the second to the eighth day. Of course, employees working during holidays received maximum overtime pay, so many of them didn’t want holidays but rather volunteered for overtime.
This time returning home, he didn’t need to swap out all his clothes and computers like before – he only needed to leave his watch behind.
Pei Qian had told his parents he worked at Fei Huang Studio and was an original member of the studio, so his income was decent. Since this was the case, wearing expensive clothes home wouldn’t seem strange anymore.
With the house already purchased, his parents had a reasonable high estimate of Pei Qian’s current income, so they naturally wouldn’t pay much attention to these details. Moreover, they couldn’t really tell whether a suit cost thousands or tens of thousands of yuan.
His parents had already moved to the house near the high-speed rail station. Since it was also in Jingzhou, not far away, Pei Qian only packed a small backpack with some clothes, a change of underwear, and his computer.
Within the same city and only staying for a week, there was no need to pack so much luggage.
However, he still needed to bring his computer, in case something happened during the holiday that needed to be handled.
After packing everything, Pei Qian headed downstairs to take a car home.
Meanwhile, Qiu Hong had already arrived at the airport and was waiting to board.
Looking back at these months of work in the capital, he felt somewhat like he was in a different lifetime.
Qiu Hong reflected – how did he, a producer of pay-to-win games, inexplicably become the savior of domestic indie games?
Life was truly unpredictable.
With nothing to do, he took out his phone to check netizens’ comments about “Ink Cloud Smoke” changing its presale price.
Last night, he had his subordinates adjust the presale price of “Ink Cloud Smoke” to 5 yuan. For players who had already paid the deposit, the game price was reduced to 36 yuan, meaning when the game officially launched, they’d only need to pay 21 yuan more to purchase it.
Additionally, Qiu Hong had officially posted an announcement apologizing to players who’d already bought the game, expressing regret for any impact caused by the presale price change.
Regarding why they lowered the presale price, the announcement said: “After ‘Ink Cloud Smoke’ began presales, players showed extraordinary enthusiasm and support for the game, which deeply moved the development team. But precisely because players’ enthusiasm far exceeded expectations, we believe the presale price was set too high, so we’ve lowered it. We deeply apologize for any impact this has on players and have provided compensation.”
For this announcement, Qiu Hong did his best, because the decision to change presale prices and compensate players was Mr. Pei’s, who believed presales actually transferred risk to players and shouldn’t be encouraged.
But this reason, while fine to say privately, wasn’t suitable for the announcement, as it would definitely dampen players’ enthusiasm for supporting domestic indie games.
So, Qiu Hong couldn’t figure out exactly how to write this announcement and could only leave it vague.
Qiu Hong thought players would mostly accept it, but might also find it mysterious.
He needed to see how people online reacted.
He quickly found discussions about “Ink Cloud Smoke” changing its presale price.
“What’s this mean? Changing the presale price from 15 yuan to 5 yuan? Is that necessary?”
“Developer’s confusing behavior.”
“This announcement says, because players were particularly enthusiastic, the company felt the presale price was too high? How does that logic work?”
“Could it be that the official thinks pricing at 5 yuan would get more presale purchases?”
“No way. Those willing to buy presales basically support domestic indie games from the heart. For these players, whether presales cost 5 yuan or 15 yuan doesn’t make much difference. Besides, you still pay the balance when the game releases – whether it’s 5 yuan or 15 yuan upfront, the final price is the same. What’s the difference?”
“Apart from making less money, I don’t see other effects…”
“That makes this very confusing, right?”
Most players indeed found the “Desperate Programmers” official’s behavior somewhat unnecessary. Presale prices being higher or lower was just monkey business – whether you get paid earlier or later. Why bother changing presale prices?
But while most players were confused, a post appeared online explaining the true intent behind “Desperate Programmers'” actions!
“I suddenly understand why ‘Ink Cloud Smoke’ lowered its presale price!”
“The official explanation is that players’ presale enthusiasm far exceeded expectations, making them realize the presale price was too high.”
“At first glance, this logic doesn’t seem sound – why would high player enthusiasm make them feel the presale price was too high?”
“This relates to why indie games nowadays all like presales.”
“Indie game presales exist mainly because indie development teams often lack money and need presales to collect funds early to better develop remaining parts of the game.”
“‘Ink Cloud Smoke’ initially priced presales at 15 yuan, clearly because they estimated development costs for the remainder based on expected sales, thinking 15 yuan would sustain future development.”
“But they didn’t expect sales to be three times higher than estimated. Development costs originally needing 15 yuan could now be maintained with just 5 yuan sales!”
“So the company decisively lowered presale prices.”
“Some say this is making a mountain out of a molehill, unnecessary. For many players, 5 yuan versus 15 yuan just means paying more or less for the balance.”
“But for ‘Desperate Programmers’ officials, they probably think having enough subsequent development funds is enough – no need to set presale prices so high with potential money-grabbing suspicions. On another hand, they feel player interests matter most, fully respecting players. So even when it benefits players, they announce it and apologize.”
“Can only say ‘Desperate Programmers’ organizer really has ideals and principles! We didn’t support them for nothing!”
After this post appeared, players had their revelation.
“So that’s it!”
“Is this developer so restrained? Seeing they can support development costs, they slash presale price from 15 to 5 yuan?”
“This isn’t restraint – it’s earning money honestly. Many indie games like to scam with presales, collecting money first, then dragging development, either delaying releases or pushing out half-finished products. But ‘Desperate Programmers’ games clearly have no such plans – obviously very confident in their games!”
“Developers who value players this much deserve support!”
“This developer is so conscientious, I can’t help thinking of Tenda Games – this seems like something Mr. Pei would do!”
“But from current info, Desperate Programmers seems unrelated to Tenda.”
“That’s great news! It means gaming has another idealistic, conscientious boss – a fortune for domestic games!”
“I’ll post and promote this right now, get more people to preorder ‘Ink Cloud Smoke’!”
Reading netizens’ discussions, Qiu Hong also had his revelation, feeling enlightened.
So Mr. Pei had this deeper meaning?
Changing presale prices not only left a good impression on players but also increased presale buyers!
Whether from increased topic attention, letting more people know, or presale dropping from 15 to 5 yuan, both further boosted presale numbers.
This way, wouldn’t post-release sales be even higher?
Game presale prices lowered, and existing buyers got discounts – definitely good for players.
Meanwhile, “Desperate Programmers” gained both face and substance.
A win-win!
Qiu Hong couldn’t help but admire – Mr. Pei is truly Mr. Pei. Even such a casual operation shows his expertise! His grasp of player psychology reached perfection!
January 22nd, Sunday.
Before 7 AM, Pei Qian got up to wash.
Now his parents had moved to the new house by the high-speed rail station, so living conditions were much better.
Mom and Dad specially reserved the master bedroom for him, insisting on staying in the second bedroom, obviously not fully giving up on making this apartment his wedding house.
Pei Qian felt helpless but had no solution. Seemed he’d need to lose more money and buy another house before his parents would settle into this one.
After washing up, Pei Qian came to the living room.
Mom was cooking in the kitchen, while Old Pei made tea in the living room.
Seeing Pei Qian already up, both parents were surprised.
“Son, you’re up this early? Thought you’d sleep til at least nine. Have some water first, breakfast’s almost ready.” Mom said, then continued preparing breakfast.
Old Pei nodded approvingly: “Good, your sleep schedule’s quite healthy now. Keep it up, you hear?”
Pei Qian put on his Bluetooth earphones, sat on the couch, and opened the ioi Global Finals livestream on his phone.
His parents obviously misunderstood – would Pei Qian get up early without special reason?
Without the ioi Global Finals, Pei Qian might sleep till 10 AM. How would he wake before 7?
Opening the livestream, timing was perfect – the match would start in minutes.
Pei Qian claimed to give up, but actually still followed FV team.
“God willing, as long as you don’t steamroll to victory, everything’s negotiable…”
The final was between FV team and FRY team’s peak showdown, already at maximum attention beforehand.
FV team started overlooked, constantly mocked as “cn ioi noob” during group stages, but after two 3-0 victories in quarterfinals and semifinals, no one dared question their strength.
FRY team, as Europe’s strongest veteran team, also advanced triumphantly to finals. Though dropping a few games, their resilience and strength in matches remained formidable.
Pre-match, Riot’s official commentary desk analysts all predicted a closely contested, exciting match, personally supporting FRY team.
Same venue as before, but today’s match had higher prestige than quarterfinals and semifinals.
Before match start, Riot specially invited famous European-American rock bands to perform theme songs, with spectacular cosplay performances. Amidst waves of applause and cheers, the venue quickly became a carnival ocean!
Krytian and Eric Xu sat in front row seats, looking somewhat serious.
Krytian had secretly sent two Riot balance designers to FRY team to help analyze new patch data and provide tactical support.
With this week’s preparation time, FRY’s tactical reserves should have improved.
But whether they could defeat FV team was anyone’s guess.
FV team’s current strength remained a mystery to everyone. They trained behind closed doors on that internet cafe’s second floor daily – what they practiced, nobody knew.
Their accompanying data team all kept silent, with guards at doors – wanting to peek was wishful thinking.
Krytian didn’t dare use too underhanded methods, like having engineers check game data. After all, news always leaks – if officials checking players’ game data got exposed, it’d be a huge scandal. Krytian would face serious consequences.
Secretly sending FRY two balance designers for tactical support was already Krytian’s limit, carrying enormous risk.
No one knew this battle’s outcome. Watching FV players’ confident expressions on stage, Krytian and Eric Xu felt somewhat anxious.
Initially thought to be five weaklings, these five unexpectedly fought to finals. All world clubs and Riot combined couldn’t stop them!