“Ahem! Mu, I—I don’t think we need to worry about her. Knowing her, she’s pretty tough,” Lin Shuwen said, bracing herself.
“But didn’t Weibo say she cried yesterday?”
“Acting. One hundred percent acting.”
“Really? Crying on cue like that—with that kind of acting, her dramas shouldn’t have flopped!”
Hearing Rong Mu’s words, Lin Shuwen felt she had to defend herself: “Mu, to be fair, those two TV dramas flopping had nothing to do with Lin Shuwen.”
“Seriously? Er Ming, you know some inside scoop?”
“Can’t really call it inside scoop. I just heard Lin Shuwen mention that the reason those two dramas tanked was that the director gave most of the production budget to the lead actors as their salaries, and on top of that, their acting was absolutely atrocious—even worse than hers when she first started.”
Rong Mu looked a little let down. “That’s it? I was expecting some dark industry secret or some scandalous affair to come to light!”
“Mu, what exactly is going on in that head of yours all day?” Lin Shuwen teased.
“Doesn’t everyone say the entertainment industry is deep and murky?”
“That’s true enough, but those so-called ‘dark secrets’ you’re talking about—those affairs and trades—most of them are mutually agreed upon. Very few people actually force anything. After all, if it’s not you, it’ll be someone else. The people holding the resources are never short of takers.”
“Uh, I guess so. Wait—hang on! Er Ming, how do you know so much about all this?”
“Lin Shuwen told me.”
“Damn! I knew it. Your relationship with Lin Shuwen is totally not normal.”
“I never said it was normal, did I?” Lin Shuwen shot back.
That left Rong Mu speechless. With Er Ming’s personality, wasn’t she supposed to just stay quiet at times like this?
“Alright, alright! Enough messing around with you—I’ve got work to do.”
“Hang on, Er Ming, I’ve got actual business here! All the paperwork for 2048 is done. We can upload it anytime.”
“Okay, let me make a call.”
“A call? To who?”
“To our investor lady, of course!”
“Didn’t you just say we didn’t need to worry about her?”
“Getting her to help with some promotion.” With that, Lin Shuwen turned and left Rong Mu’s office.
Watching his buddy’s retreating back, Rong Mu scratched his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Luo Ming was starting to veer dangerously close to “player” territory. When he didn’t need her, he didn’t even bother making a consolation call. But when he needed her to help promote the game? Suddenly he’s in a rush to dial her up.
Back in her office, Lin Shuwen pulled out her phone and called Luo Ming.
Luo Ming had just gotten back from a run. The consequence of overeating yesterday? Stepping on the scale this morning and seeing his weight creep past 105 kilograms.
As a man, he had to walk the talk. He threw on some workout clothes and did a 5-kilometer loop around the neighborhood.
The moment he walked through the door, his phone rang. He picked up, and Lin Shuwen’s voice came through, dripping with playful reproach: “Luo Ming, I heard Lin Shuwen was really upset about those two dramas flopping—even cried. Is that true?”
“Heh heh.” Luo Ming let out a dry chuckle. “Is there any chance that was… artistic embellishment?”
“Next time, could you please embellish in a slightly more believable direction? Sister Shan and the others know full well that any heartbreak over the drama flops was completely buried by the arrival of that massive 4 million yuan payment. That was way too fake.”
“Ahem! Well… Sister Shan and them seemed to buy it. She even comforted me yesterday.”
Lin Shuwen was dumbfounded. They actually believed that?!
“Never mind, forget I said anything. Luo Ming, Mu just told me that all the prep for 2048 is done. We can upload it anytime.”
“Then tell Mu to go ahead and upload it. Once the game clears review, just ping me on WeChat and I’ll post on Weibo.”
“Don’t post it yourself. Let Chuchu do it. You don’t know how to handle this kind of Weibo post.”
“Huh? There’s a technique to it?” Luo Ming scratched his head.
“Of course there is. What’s the point of posting on Weibo?” Lin Shuwen shot back.
“To advertise!”
“Luo Ming, remember this: no matter how dedicated a fan is, they’re never interested in the ads their idol posts. They might buy products their idol endorses to show off their commercial value, but they definitely don’t like those ad posts. And especially since you’re advertising a game—you want my fans to play it, right? If you put out such a stiff ad, plenty of people might download it, but almost none of them will actually play.”
“Then how should I post this kind of Weibo?”
“Let’s talk about advertising strategy. I’ve actually done some ads myself—like those two big boxes of chips sitting in my place. For that kind of ad, you have to make it look like the idol actually eats that stuff in their daily life. It’s not an ad; it’s the idol recommending a snack they genuinely enjoy.”
Hearing that, it clicked for Luo Ming. “I get it! You subtly slip in the ad by making yourself feel closer to the fans.”
“Exactly! See, Luo Ming? You’re pretty sharp!”
Luo Ming shook his head and thought to himself, “It’s not that I’m sharp—it’s just that a ton of streamers use this same trick later on. Didn’t realize celebrities did it too.”
“Alright, that’s it for now. Just wait for my message. I need to go study.”
Luo Ming grunted in acknowledgment and hung up.
After setting down her phone, Lin Shuwen sent a WeChat to Rong Mu telling him to start uploading the game, then dove back into her programming studies.
Before she knew it, it was 5 PM. The show in Hangzhou had wrapped up, and only then did Luo Ming receive a message from Lin Shuwen.
“All set. iPhone users can buy and download it directly from the App Store. Android users can get it from Google Play.”
(PS: In 2013, you could access Google Play without any special tools.)
After reading Lin Shuwen’s message, Luo Ming waved Chen Sichu over. “Chuchu, help me take a photo.”
“What kind of photo?”
“A photo of me playing the game.” With that, Luo Ming opened 2048.
About two or three minutes into the game, Chen Sichu pressed the shutter, capturing both the game and Luo Ming in the frame.
“Wen Jie, take a look at how it turned out.”
“Looks great. Post it to Weibo.”
Chen Sichu, a beat late, quickly asked, “Wen Jie, are you advertising 2048?”
“Yeah. My own investment company’s product just launched—why wouldn’t I advertise it?”
“Should we check with Sister Shan first?”
“Just post it. Oh, and use your own tone—soft ad style. You know how to do that, right?”
Chen Sichu nodded, looking utterly resigned.
She’d already been planning to post behind-the-scenes photos from the show, with a nine-grid layout all ready. Now it looked like she’d have to fit this one in—and make it the centerpiece, no less.
“Wenwen, you invested in a company?” Li Yunshang asked curiously.
“Yeah, just a little fun investment in a friend’s company.”
“A gaming company?”
“Yep.”
While Luo Ming chatted with Li Yunshang, Chen Sichu logged into Lin Shuwen’s Weibo account, adjusted the photo order, and started typing up the caption: “Live behind-the-scenes shots are here! Today’s Wenwen is extra handsome too! Also, gotta vent—Wenwen is completely hooked on a game. She couldn’t resist playing a couple rounds even on the way home. I called her so many times and got totally ignored. This job just keeps getting harder!”
