In the afternoon, John, along with his translator, Luo Ming, and Rong Mu, were once again seated in the Zhuoguang conference room.
Rong Mu’s English was terrible—he’d barely scraped by on the CET-4 exam back in his junior year.
It had been over a year since then, and he’d long forgotten most of it.
Luo Ming, on the other hand, was decent at English. He could understand what John was saying without needing a translator.
This was mainly thanks to the third company he’d worked at in his previous life—the one that made voice assistants for Dami Motors.
Dami was the major shareholder of that company, but the CEO wasn’t one of Dami’s people—he was from the US, reportedly poached from OpenAI. And sure enough, Dami’s Xiao Ai assistant did eventually integrate OpenAI’s ChatGPT, which kind of confirmed where the CEO came from.
Luo Ming didn’t care where the boss came from. Back then, he only cared about one thing: how to make money.
If the company hadn’t paid so well, Luo Ming wouldn’t have gone there.
After all, stepping out of one’s comfort zone and starting over is incredibly hard.
The gaming industry was Luo Ming’s comfort zone. AI technology, voice assistants—those were new challenges.
Not to mention the boss wasn’t Chinese, so work reports and whatnot had to be in English.
Luo Ming remembered that during his first year on the job, he’d put considerable effort into English. At the very least, he could now hold normal conversations with foreigners.
He never expected that starting over in a new life, his English would come in handy again. It gave Luo Ming a feeling that his efforts back then hadn’t been wasted.
“Mr. Luo, Mr. Rong, I’ve relayed your intentions to my boss. Our boss says that if you’re not willing to sell the D encryption, cooperating through a revenue-sharing model is also acceptable—just that the percentage won’t be very high.”
“What percentage is your company offering?” Rong Mu asked after hearing Luo Ming’s translation.
“One percent.”
“That’s impossible. That’s way too low—we can’t accept that.” Before Rong Mu could even speak, Luo Ming shot back directly.
“You Chinese have a saying in business—start high, settle low. I’ve named my price, and you’re welcome to name yours.”
Luo Ming and Rong Mu exchanged a glance, both looking somewhat resigned.
There was no doubt they were the weaker party in this negotiation. Facing a massive platform like Steam, they had no leverage. If they wanted to cooperate, they had to play by their rules.
“Our side is hoping for a five percent cut,” Rong Mu offered.
After hearing the translation, John smiled. Everything had played out exactly as Billson had predicted.
Now it was just a matter of negotiating according to the percentages Billson had pre-determined.
Two hours later, both sides reached a consensus.
Luo Ming’s D algorithm would take a two percent cut on Steam-published and buyout games. At the same time, Steam wouldn’t restrict Luo Ming from selling the algorithm to other game companies, wouldn’t require any additional review for games using the algorithm, and would even provide supporting services.
On top of that, Steam would give Plants vs. Zombies five special sales and two front-page recommendations.
That meant that in 2014, Plants vs. Zombies would be featured in Steam’s Spring Sale, Summer Sale, Halloween Sale, Autumn Sale, and Christmas Sale.
As for the front-page recommendations, Zhuoguang could contact Steam anytime to request one.
Luo Ming didn’t hesitate to choose to use one right now.
Over the past couple of days, as the foreign New Year holidays gradually wound down, Plants vs. Zombies’s popularity had dipped somewhat. Daily sales had fallen below 50,000.
This was the perfect time to have Steam run a round of advertising, boost Plants vs. Zombies’s popularity, and give sales another push.
John naturally agreed right away.
Once the two sides reached an agreement, drafting the contract was a matter for the lawyers.
After finishing his work, John seemed much more relaxed. With keen interest, he turned to Luo Ming and Rong Mu and asked, “Mr. Luo, Mr. Rong, are you from this city?”
“Does Mr. John mean your hometown is in this city?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not—he is.” Luo Ming pointed at Rong Mu.
“Mr. Rong, do you know of any ancient buildings worth visiting in Bingzhou? I’m very interested in that sort of thing.”
“Ancient buildings? Does Jinci Temple count?” Rong Mu said somewhat uncertainly.
“Jinci Temple?”
“Yes. If you’re asking about ancient architecture, the first thing that comes to mind is Jinci Temple. It has the Hall of the Holy Mother, the Flying Bridge over the Fish Pond, and the Hall of Offerings.
Besides Jinci Temple, Bingzhou also has Chunyang Palace, the Twin Pagoda Temple—old Bingzhou natives might call it Yongzuo Temple—and that’s about all I can think of.”
“That’s plenty. I don’t have much time on this business trip—only three days. Being able to see so many ancient buildings in three days is already very satisfying,” John said excitedly after hearing the translation.
“Does Mr. John need a guide?” Luo Ming asked.
“No, no, no. I prefer to quietly experience the beauty of ancient architecture on my own. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Alright then! I hope Mr. John has a wonderful time.”
John smiled and nodded.
After seeing John off, Luo Ming looked at Rong Mu with a hint of teasing: “Wood, come on! You can’t even name what’s in your own hometown?”
“It’s not that I can’t name them—it’s that Bingzhou has too many ancient buildings. They’re everywhere. Actually, it’s not just Bingzhou—the whole of Shanxi is like that. Ancient buildings everywhere.
Take your hometown, for example. I remember when I used to go to your place to hang out, we’d hike up the mountain to pick sea buckthorn. The Taoist temple we passed was from the Northern Song Dynasty, the pavilion where we rested was from the late Ming, and there was even a bunker built during the Republic era at the summit.
There are so many ancient buildings in Shanxi that you stop being amazed by them. And once you stop being amazed, who bothers to memorize them?”
Luo Ming thought about it—fair point.
Knock knock~ “Boss Luo, Boss Rong, word from Sony.” Zhao Ningyuan’s knocking interrupted Luo Ming’s thoughts.
Rong Mu immediately got up to open the door and welcome Zhao Ningyuan in.
“Senior Zhao, what did Sony say?” Rong Mu asked.
“Sony wants to know if we’re willing to sell the D algorithm,” Zhao Ningyuan replied.
Luo Ming exchanged a glance with Rong Mu, both looking somewhat exasperated. “Looks like all these big companies use the same playbook—first ask if we’ll sell the algorithm to test our stance, confirm how we want to cooperate, then start driving the price down.”
“So are we still going to negotiate?”
“Of course! Sony’s PS4 launches next month. Easy money—why wouldn’t we take it?
Senior Zhao, please tell Sony we’re not planning to sell the D algorithm—we’ll only accept a revenue-sharing partnership.”
Zhao Ningyuan nodded to show he understood.
The next day, Sony’s people arrived as well.
The same process repeated itself. Just as Luo Ming had said, both sides used identical tactics.
But with the experience from last time, plus Luo Ming deliberately letting slip that Steam had already reached an agreement with them—giving Sony a little nudge—the final offer from Sony came in at three percent, one percentage point higher than Steam’s.
Don’t underestimate that one point—over a year, it would mean at least several million more US dollars in revenue.
Once the D algorithm matter was settled, Luo Ming immediately called Lin Shuwen to share the good news.
Lin Shuwen had been busy these past few days too. With the MV shoot complete, the album cover, sales channels, revenue splits—all of it had to be negotiated bit by bit.
Lin Shuwen couldn’t avoid these things, and she didn’t want to. After all, it was her first album—she took it very seriously.
Lin Shuwen had just finished discussing the album cover and was resting on the sofa with her eyes closed when Chen Sichu brought her phone over: “Sister Wen, Boss Luo’s calling.”
Lin Shuwen immediately took the phone and answered.
“Hey~” Lin Shuwen’s voice was a bit languid, with a hint of vocal fry—like she’d just woken up.
“Why do you sound so out of energy?”
“Too tired today.”
“Lots of stuff with the new album?”
“How should I put it—nothing major, but endless small things. I never thought all these random little tasks would be more exhausting than the big stuff like shooting MVs and recording songs.”
“Wenwen, you don’t actually have to do everything yourself.”
“You’re working so hard—I can’t lose to you, can I? You don’t want to keep a canary, do you?”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Mmm~” Lin Shuwen stretched and let out a comfortable moan.
Today Lin Shuwen was wearing a white printed blouse, a black leather skirt on the bottom, with black stockings wrapped around her legs, making them look slender and long.
As she stretched, her slim, fair waist was faintly visible.
“Luo Ming, I don’t want to be a canary—not even your canary.”
“Alright then! You’d better work hard. I closed the D algorithm licensing deal today.”
“So fast? One company or two?”
“Both Sony and Steam are done.”
“Now that you mention it, I feel like I can’t slack off either. Chuchu, help me up! I need to work!” With that, Lin Shuwen hung up.
A moment later, Lin Shuwen and Chen Sichu left the office together.
By now, Lin Shuwen had thrown on a long, pale yellow trench coat with petal sleeves, cinched at the waist with a long belt, making her look like a flower bud about to bloom. Not a trace of the languidness from moments ago when she was slumped on the sofa.
After a busy day, Lin Shuwen got home at 9 PM.
As luck would have it, the moment she stepped out of the elevator, she ran right into the little girl from next door being pushed out by her mother.
“Mom’s asking you one last time—are you sorry or not?”
“I’m not sorry!”
“Then you can stay out here and reflect!” With that, the woman nodded at Lin Shuwen and shut the door.
The family across the hall had moved in around the same time as Lin Shuwen.
They’d watched each other move in. At the time, Lin Shuwen already had a bit of fame, and perhaps out of curiosity about a celebrity, the couple had been quite friendly toward her.
Lin Shuwen had been guarded at first, but after confirming they were good people, she’d let her guard down. Whenever they ran into each other, they’d always say hello.
The husband was from Shanghai and taught PE at a nearby middle school. The wife was from Xinjiang—you could tell just by looking at her.
Their child had a bit of that exotic charm too. The little girl had especially big eyes, just like a character from an anime. Lin Shuwen was quite fond of the kid.
“Maodou, did you make Mommy mad again?” Lin Shuwen crouched down and asked.
“I didn’t! Auntie Lin—”
“Call me sister.”
“Okay, sister. Auntie Lin, it wasn’t Maodou’s fault today. That kid grabbed Maodou’s paintbrush, so Maodou hit him. Mom wouldn’t even listen to Maodou’s explanation…”
Click~ Before the little girl could finish, the door across the hall opened—clearly her mother had been keeping an eye on things outside.
“Hu Kejia! No matter what, you can’t hit other kids first.”
“He grabbed Maodou’s paintbrush! Maodou was right to hit him! Dad said if someone grabs Maodou’s stuff, hit them back hard!”
Lin Shuwen secretly glanced at the woman’s face.
Sure enough, her face had gone dark: “Well, well! I was wondering how such a good kid like Maodou suddenly got into a fight. Hu Qiang—so it was you teaching her nonsense! You—”
The woman stopped mid-sentence, realizing the door was still open and the neighbor was watching.
“Cough cough! Wenwen, sorry you had to see that. My husband’s hopeless.”
“It’s fine, sis. Don’t worry—I didn’t see anything.” Lin Shuwen covered her eyes with one hand and placed the other on the door handle, unlocking it with her fingerprint.
“Pfft!” The woman couldn’t help but laugh. The more she interacted with Lin Shuwen, the more she felt she was a sweet, kind girl.
Thanks to Lin Shuwen’s antics, the woman didn’t seem as angry anymore.
Back in her apartment, Lin Shuwen thought about the family across the hall and smiled faintly.
Would she and Luo Ming have that kind of dynamic in the future too?
Lin Shuwen admitted she wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Would Luo Ming be as tolerant of her as Hu Qiang was of his wife?
And kids—if they had kids, would the child be able to tell Mom and Dad apart?
Swapping bodies once a week—the secret the kid shared with Dad this week would become a secret shared with Mom next week.
As she thought about it, Lin Shuwen suddenly wanted to hear Luo Ming’s voice. She was about to call when her hand paused.
Thinking back to that family’s dynamic, Lin Shuwen felt like teasing Luo Ming a little. She went to the walk-in closet and rummaged around, finding a nightgown at the very bottom.
She’d bought this nightgown online last year—one size too small, so it was a bit tight when worn.
Lin Shuwen changed into the nightgown and spun around in front of the mirror, nodding in satisfaction.
This nightgown had a certain subtly revealing beauty to it.
Click~ Lin Shuwen covered her face with her phone and snapped a mirror selfie, then blurred out the background. She also found a few images from the internet and sent them all to Luo Ming in one go.
“Question: which one is—” Before Lin Shuwen could finish typing, Luo Ming’s voice message came through first: “Wenwen, not steamy enough! Too little showing.”
Lin Shuwen was full of question marks. Before she could recover, Luo Ming sent another voice message: “Wenwen, you’re asking me to pick out which one is you, right? The second one—definitely.”
“How did you know? I blurred the background!”
“Down from your right shoulder, near your chest—there’s a tiny black mole the size of a grain of rice.”
“You really are observant!”
“Cough cough, it’s all necessary contact. I can’t exactly not bathe, can I?”
“You dog of a man! And here I was just—”
“Just what?”
Lin Shuwen didn’t reply. She took off the nightgown and threw it in the trash. Just as she finished changing, Luo Ming called.
