The reason Luo Ming jumped in to answer was that he was certain this was definitely a blind spot in Lin Shuwen’s knowledge.
In fact, many software companies in China had git-like code repositories to facilitate team development and version control.
Generally speaking, a game like this wouldn’t be carried around on a USB drive at all—you’d just give out the repository address.
As for Zhuoguang, since the company had been founded less than a month ago and everyone was busy developing Plants vs. Zombies, they hadn’t had time to set up a server repository yet.
Moreover, setting up a server repository in 2013 wasn’t as simple as it would be after 2016.
That’s because server repositories built primarily on cloud service technology didn’t become popular in China until 2016.
Luo Ming didn’t want to go through the hassle of building an old-style server repository. He wanted to jump straight to using a cloud-service-based server repository, which would also be more secure.
But before that technology became widespread, Zhuoguang would need its own server. Luo Ming’s plan was to buy one once Plants vs. Zombies started making money.
He’d keep the server cost under ten million yuan. That way, they could start developing big data algorithms, try launching Zhuoguang’s own version of “Toutiao,” and also make it easier to handle data exchange for online games like Clash of Clans.
Of course, all of that was for after Plants vs. Zombies launched next year.
After listening to “Lin Shuwen’s” explanation, Wang Hongyu nodded: “That makes sense. Public server repositories really aren’t safe right now. If the game leaked, the losses would be huge.”
“Wenwen, aren’t you going to introduce us to your business partner?” Sister Shan said while sizing up “Luo Ming.”
“Sister Shan, Director Wang, this is my business partner ‘Luo Ming.’ He basically taught me all my programming, and this game is something he spent two years polishing himself.”
“Mr. Luo, how old are you this year?” Sister Shan asked “Luo Ming.”
“Sister Shan, I’m 23 this year.”
“23? Just graduated from university?”
“Yes.”
“Then how could this game have been in development for two years?”
“I started working on this game while I was still in university.”
Sister Shan nodded and shot Wang Hongyu a look.
Wang Hongyu plugged the USB drive into the computer and opened Plants vs. Zombies.
Sister Shan crossed her arms and walked over too.
At first, Sister Shan just stood there looking down at Wang Hongyu playing.
As she watched and watched, she pulled a chair over from the kitchen and sat down.
“Put the Peashooter here!” Sister Shan couldn’t help pointing at the computer screen.
“Sister Shan, no talking while watching chess.”
“You play badly and you won’t even let people comment?”
“Sister Shan, I haven’t made a single mistake so far!”
Not long after Wang Hongyu’s boast, a scream rang out from the computer screen.
“Aah~”
The zombie mercilessly ate your brains.
“Move over! Let me do it!”
Wang Hongyu was shooed aside by Sister Shan, who started playing herself.
At first, Luo Ming and Lin Shuwen watched from the side. Later, seeing that Sister Shan was completely absorbed in the game, they called Wang Hongyu over, and the three of them played Fight the Landlord while chatting about technical stuff.
At this point, it was mainly “Lin Shuwen” and Wang Hongyu doing the talking. “Luo Ming” put on an act of being poor at conversation, only occasionally chiming in with a word or two.
Seeing “Luo Ming’s” demeanor, Wang Hongyu felt that this President Luo was a kindred spirit—aside from the hair, he perfectly fit the programmer template.
“Aah~”
Another scream came from the computer. Sister Shan closed the laptop with a dark expression.
“What kind of lousy game is this? Why can zombies swim? And not just swim—why do they swim so fast?”
After hearing Sister Shan’s complaints, “Lin Shuwen” asked with a smile: “So, Sister Shan, our game isn’t bad, right?”
Sister Shan raised her hand and flicked “Lin Shuwen” on the forehead: “What does it have to do with you? Didn’t Mr. Luo here spend two years making this game?
Mr. Luo, to be fair, your game is excellent. Even someone like me who doesn’t particularly like games got hooked. But an excellent game doesn’t necessarily become popular—you should know that, right?”
“I know, which is why I want Wenwen to endorse my game.”
Sister Shan shook her head: “Having Wenwen endorse it isn’t appropriate. Wenwen’s current endorsements are all fashion brands. Aside from fashion brands, I’ve turned down all other types of endorsements. It’s about Wenwen’s development direction—I can’t change that just for your game.
So Wenwen can only help promote it the same way as last time, through soft advertising. It just so happens that last time, that girl Chuchu mentioned that Wenwen and the boss of Zhuoguang are friends.
Friends helping each other promote something isn’t a problem. We can even use some small tricks.”
“What kind of tricks?”
“That’s something you wouldn’t understand even if I explained. Let’s first talk about what you’ll need to pay. Xiao Wang, you can head back first. Mr. Luo, keep an eye on him—make sure he deletes the game completely before he leaves.”
“Luo Ming” nodded.
Wang Hongyu muttered something under his breath about being discarded once he’d outlived his usefulness, then obediently went to delete the game.
After seeing Wang Hongyu off, Sister Shan spoke without any reservations: “Mr. Luo, your company is funded by Wenwen, so the money being spent right now is all Wenwen’s, correct?”
“Luo Ming” nodded.
“Then that settles it. I won’t ask for an endorsement fee from your company. This company is Wenwen’s investment—moving money from one pocket to the other is pointless aside from paying more taxes.”
“Then what do you want, Sister Shan?”
“Simple. Mutual help. Your game launches in January next year, and Wenwen’s album drops on February 10th next year.
One month is enough time for you to build up some word of mouth. When that happens, I want you to help promote Wenwen’s album to your game’s user base.”
“No problem. We could even have ‘Wenwen’ cosplay as one of the plants or something—that would help draw in more fans from the gaming community.”
Sister Shan was quite pleased with how perceptive “Luo Ming” was and nodded with a smile.
“Sister Shan, if it’s convenient for you, why not go with ‘Luo Ming’ to Zhuoguang and take a look at the game’s release plan? None of us have much experience, and having a senior like you to help would be a huge benefit to our launch.”
This was something Lin Shuwen had specifically instructed Luo Ming to say.
Sister Shan’s work abilities were impressive, especially when it came to marketing and distribution. Back then, the two OST songs Lin Shuwen sang became popular largely thanks to Sister Shan’s help.
Songs and games were two completely different things, but the distribution strategies had common ground. So having Sister Shan help review things would definitely help the game become more popular.
Sister Shan hesitated upon hearing this. At that moment, “Lin Shuwen” walked over with teary eyes and said: “Sister Shan, please just help us out! You don’t want to see my 5 million yuan go down the drain, do you?”
Sister Shan sighed: “Ugh! I must have owed you in a past life. You go do your work on your own this week. Mr. Luo, I’ll go with you to check out your company.”
Luo Ming and Lin Shuwen exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of a smile in each other’s eyes.
It was a done deal!
