Thanks to Jiang Nian’s guidance, the filming of Flying Swords of Dragon Gate finally got back on track.
The set was buzzing with activity, as busy as could be.
At the same time, over on the other side—
After more than a month of filming, The Chronicles of the Martial World had finally launched on the QiYi platform!
Since it was an online series, they adopted a strategy of broadcasting while still filming.
One reason was to keep the production funds replenished.
The other reason was that this approach was very safe for an online series.
“Did we get the promotion all set up?”
With just three minutes left until the premiere, the director was worried and asked the assistant director, unable to shake off his unease.
The assistant director was a little speechless. “Director, you’ve asked me that question at least ten times already. I’ve got it handled, don’t worry.”
The director frowned, annoyed by his impatient tone. “Being meticulous never hurts. Are you really sure the promotion is good?”
The assistant director sighed in resignation and had to say, “Yes, it’s really set up. On Weibo these past two days, our ads pop up every couple of scrolls. Plus, I contacted QiYi and asked them to give us a boost on our premiere day, so they set up a pop-up notification.”
“Alright, that works.”
Hearing this answer finally put the director’s mind at ease.
He turned to look at the backend stats page.
And started waiting nervously.
One minute…
Two minutes…
As eight o’clock in the evening arrived,
the director hit refresh.
A bunch of data appeared on the screen.
[Title: The Chronicles of the Martial World]
[Total Views: 5,319 | Current Viewers: 715 | Bullet Comments: 7 | Completed Plays: 0]
“???”
Staring at these numbers, the director was dumbfounded.
He rubbed his eyes in disbelief and refreshed the page again.
After refreshing, the total views went up a little, but the number of current viewers dropped even more.
He was completely stunned.
“What the hell? How is this happening?”
“How can the numbers be this low?”
Keep in mind, The Chronicles of the Martial World was an online series with an investment of eight million!
And they’d already blown over a million on promotion alone.
And now, after the premiere, the total views were only five thousand, and the current viewers were barely a thousand?
It’s not even a matter of calling it “not great.”
This was an outright disaster.
“Are you telling me you actually did a good job on the promotion?!”
Snapping back to reality, the director immediately went after the assistant director, demanding an answer.
The assistant director just stared blankly at the computer screen. “W-What’s going on?”
“You’re asking me?”
The director started cursing angrily.
He admitted that the show’s content was very clichéd.
It was full of martial arts tropes that had been done to death.
And the actors’ performances were generally average, nothing particularly amazing.
But still, the premiere numbers shouldn’t have been this abysmal!
Unless… the assistant director hadn’t done the promotion properly—or worse, he’d pocketed the money!
The director shot him a sharp, penetrating glare, as if trying to see right through him.
The assistant director broke out in a cold sweat under that stare.
He wanted to say that he hadn’t done anything shady, that the show’s performance was just naturally this bad.
But the words got stuck in his throat. He didn’t dare say them.
Because that would be career suicide!
Even though there’s only one word difference between “director” and “assistant director,”
there’s actually a massive gap between them.
If the director wanted him gone, he could be replaced anytime.
Not to mention questioning the director’s abilities.
If that got around, no other director would ever want to hire him again.
So he had no choice but to swallow his words and put on a strained smile. “Director, take it easy, take it easy. It’s only just started. The viewers our promotion attracted probably haven’t tuned in yet. Just wait a bit longer. Give it some time, and the numbers might pick up. And don’t forget, we still have Teacher Jiang as our secret weapon!”
Hearing this, the director let out a frustrated grunt but didn’t say anything more.
He just kept anxiously refreshing the webpage, looking for any sign of a turnaround.
But the more he refreshed, the more disheartened he became.
Because he noticed that while the total views and current viewers were slowly increasing over time,
the retention rate was dropping lower and lower!
At first, it was 5,319 views to 715 viewers.
Forty minutes later, it had turned into 73,211 views to 3,180 viewers!
But here’s the thing—those forty minutes had passed, the first episode had ended, yet the number of completed plays hadn’t gone up at all!
It was driving the director up the wall.
He thought, This won’t do, so he decided to open the first episode of The Chronicles of the Martial World himself, hoping to use his own view to contribute to the completed plays count.
But the moment he opened it, the barrage of bullet comments hit him like a sledgehammer.
“Garbage warning! This show contains large amounts of overly dramatic plots, cringey acting, and low-quality special effects. Please watch with caution.”
“Goddammit, are you annoying or what? I’m just scrolling through videos, and you’ve been shoving this ad in my face for three days straight. You think my data plan is free? Fuck you! Give me back my money!”
“Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap! Important things need to be said five times!”
“This quality got an eight million investment? Better check if this is just money laundering.”
“Watch ‘The Chronicles of the Martial World’ and live a life of a beast of burden. I’m Mai Lin, and I endorse ‘The Chronicles of the Martial World’!”
“Great. I was actually a little interested, but seeing Mai Lin’s name just killed any desire I had.”
“Hooray! We martial arts fans finally have our very own Cyber Junk (a pun referring to the disastrous Cyberpunk 2077 launch)!”
“…”
Looking at these sarcastic, nasty bullet comments,
it took just one glance for the director to feel his blood pressure spike, making his body tremble uncontrollably.
He’d found it. He finally found out why the retention rate was so pathetically low!
“Holy shit!”
The director slammed his fist on the table, furious beyond words.
He stood up, wanting to say something, but before he could get the words out, his vision suddenly went black, and he collapsed uncontrollably to the floor.
Thud!
His head hit the ground with a dull thud.
Right before he passed out, only one thought ran through the director’s mind.
“That goddamn promotion!”
“What the hell did you guys do to make the audience hate this show so much?!”
Seeing this happen, the assistant director was completely dumbfounded.
He didn’t dare waste any time. He quickly pulled out his phone, dialed 120, and had the director rushed to the hospital.
Neither of them noticed that shortly after they left, on the backend stats page, the number of completed plays quietly ticked up by one.
Meanwhile, on the internet, a crudely edited video was silently uploaded by someone.
——-
“It’s blowing up! It’s blowing up!”
That was the first thing the director heard when he woke up.
And the second thing was a stern reprimand: “Sir, please keep your voice down in the hospital room!”
Upon hearing this, the director groggily opened his eyes and found himself lying in a hospital room.
He focused his vision and saw the assistant director standing by the bed, holding his phone, face flushed bright red with excitement.
Next to him, a nurse had her hands on her hips and was scowling at them.
“What happened?”
Driven by curiosity, the director asked.
Seeing him awake, the assistant director quickly came over with his phone, beaming with excitement. “Director, it’s blowing up! Our show is blowing up!”
