novelRona Chapter 1606 Zhou Mei
Chapter 1606 Zhou Mei
Conference room of Zixing Culture Media Co., Ltd.
At 10:00 a.m. sharp, all members of the editorial team were present.
The meeting room wasn't large; a long, dark solid wood table occupied most of the space, and a whiteboard stood against the wall, still bearing a few lines of scribbled writing from last week's brainstorming session. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting long, thin strips of light that fell on the table and on everyone's faces.
Lin Zhanqiao walked in faster than usual. She didn't ask Zhao Lanxin to report on the operational data first, nor did she ask each editor to go through the situation of their authors one by one.
Instead, he spoke directly after everyone was seated.
"He's back."
The four words, though not loud, were like a pebble thrown into a calm pond.
Everyone was taken aback at first.
"who is he?
The silence in the meeting room lasted for about five seconds.
It wasn't until the young editor, Xiao Chen, sitting at the very end of the long table, cautiously raised his hand, his voice slightly hesitant, that he finally spoke: "President Lin, are you referring to... 'him,' Qin Hao?"
Lin Zhanqiao nodded.
With just that one nod, the temperature in the conference room seemed to drop several degrees.
No one speaks.
Everyone's expression changed.
Qin Hao.
Everyone present knew perfectly well what this name meant in the online literature industry.
He was someone who crushed all the industry giants in just three years. Each of his five works is a peak that later generations could hardly reach. The initial subscription record for *The Great Feng Night Watchman* remains unbroken.
For readers, Qin Hao's return is fantastic news. Not only is his work top-notch, but it's also incredibly plentiful. What kind of life did readers have during the three years he was on the platform? There were daily updates when they opened the app, plus extra chapters on holidays; every penny spent on subscriptions was well worth it.
But for the editors and authors of "Zhixing," Qin Hao's return was nothing short of a disaster.
His return not only means that He Han will no longer be out of the running for the top spot on the bestseller list and the monthly ticket list.
What's even more frightening is that Qin Hao will spoil his readers' tastes.
Readers accustomed to Qin Hao's works often find other authors' books lacking something. The pacing is slower, the writing is rougher, the characters are less compelling... Once the standards are raised, it's hard to lower them again.
Especially authors who write on the same themes as Qin Hao. With such excellent works preceding them, who would still want to read your book?
A stifling silence filled the meeting room.
Lin Zhanqiao knew that this emotion needed to be channeled and not allowed to spread, otherwise the entire team would be dragged down by this anxiety.
"Actually, there's no need for everyone to be so pessimistic." She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice sound calm and confident: "Qin Hao is indeed formidable, but he can't possibly absorb all the traffic. His return will inevitably bring a new wave of traffic to the entire online literature industry—think about it, when he won the Hugo Award, how many people who never read online literature flocked to Dingqi.com? Aren't there any of our potential readers among them?"
"So when you go back, you still need to reassure your writers, tell them not to panic, and to focus on improving their writing skills."
She paused, then her tone suddenly became more forceful—
Qin Hao once said: "Even the best writing can be countered."
"In the online literature industry, there's no such thing as being buried. As long as your work is excellent enough, it will definitely be seen by websites and readers!"
When Lin Zhanqiao said these words, his voice was firm and his gaze was resolute, which at first glance was indeed quite inspiring.
But she knew in her heart how it would turn out.
The editors present were all seasoned veterans of the industry, seasoned with years of experience. What kind of grand pronouncements hadn't they heard? What kind of promises hadn't they made? They were acutely aware of the current state of the online literature industry—in this era of increasingly diverse entertainment options, online literature has actually been on a downward spiral. Short videos, live streaming, games—aren't they all vying for users' time? Even industry giants like Dingqi.com have been losing core users in recent years.
To put it bluntly, the online literature industry has entered a period of stagnation.
The market is only so big, and it's even shrinking. Readers only have so much money, and their monthly subscription budgets are limited. Qin Hao's works are of high quality and updated frequently, naturally attracting a large number of readers to spend their subscription fees on him. This, in turn, affects the subscription revenue of other authors.
Lin Zhanqiao understood this, but now she could only say things that were self-deceiving.
"Next—"
Lin Zhanqiao took a deep breath, and her tone became stern.
"We at Zhixing are going to have a tough time. All departments must cut costs. The operations department will reduce unnecessary promotional channels, the editorial department will tighten its contract signing budget, and the signing standards for new authors will be raised. We won't sign any more authors whose work isn't up to par."
"On the business side, Ling Yikai—"
She looked at Ling Yikai, who had been sitting silently in the corner.
"We need to step up our efforts in licensing negotiations for IP adaptations, monetize what can be monetized as soon as possible, and ensure a stable cash flow."
Ling Yikai nodded without saying anything.
For a moment, the conference room was filled with groans.
"If we raise the signing standards again, how will we sign new talent? Finding high-quality new talent is already difficult enough—"
"If promotional channels are cut again, the new book's exposure will also be affected!"
A cacophony of complaints rose and fell, like a spring that had been compressed to its limit finally springing back up.
Lin Zhanqiao didn't stop them, letting the resentment fester in the meeting room for a while. Once the noise subsided, she spoke: "We'll discuss these details later. Today's main purpose is to give everyone a heads-up. Meeting adjourned."
The chairs scraped harshly against the floor as the editors left in twos and threes, each face etched with worry. Some whispered among themselves, others stared silently at their phones, and still others let out a long sigh as soon as they stepped out of the meeting room.
Zhao Lanxin was not in a hurry to leave.
She sat in her seat, slowly tidying up the documents on her desk, but her eyes were always on Lin Zhanqiao's movements.
Zhao Lanxin's behavior today was very unusual.
As is customary, Zhao Lanxin would almost always object to any decision Lin Zhanqiao made at the meeting, but today, she didn't say a word.
This matter concerns the life and death of the star.
She still held a quarter of the shares in Zhixing. Her shares would only be valuable if Zhixing thrived; if Zhixing collapsed, those shares would be nothing but worthless paper. Faced with such a crucial matter, internal strife could wait.
Zhao Lanxin stood up when only the two of them remained in the conference room.
"Mr. Lin, wait a moment."
Lin Zhanqiao was tidying up the markers on the whiteboard when she heard this, so she stopped what she was doing and turned around to look at her.
Zhao Lanxin went straight to the point: "Where did you get the news that Qin Hao is back? Is it accurate?"
Lin Zhanqiao capped the marker and put it back in its slot, saying in a heavy tone, "I picked it up from the airport yesterday."
Zhao Lanxin frowned slightly.
yesterday.
Lin Zhanqiao arrived more than an hour later than usual because she went to the airport.
"So, Qin Hao rejected your invitation?" Zhao Lanxin's tone was somewhat gloating.
"No. I didn't mention it at all."
Zhao Lanxin was clearly taken aback.
Didn’t mention it?
“He won’t come back.” Lin Zhanqiao put the whiteboard eraser back in its place, turned to face Zhao Lanxin, her gaze calm but firm: “Unless—”
"Unless what?"
Lin Zhanqiao remained silent for a few seconds.
"Unless we don't take a single penny from him."
After he finished speaking, the conference room fell silent except for the hum of the air conditioner.
Zhao Lanxin didn't reply, but her eyes flickered—an expression of her mind racing.
We won't take a single penny from him.
In other words, if Zhixing can offer zero commission, it might be possible to sign Qin Hao.
Kezhixing is a company, not a charity. What's the point of signing authors if they don't generate revenue for the company?
But Zhao Lanxin's thinking quickly took a turn.
Is Qin Hao's value solely based on subscription revenue sharing and copyright income?
wrong.
Qin Hao's greatest value has never been in these financial gains—it's in the traffic he generates. It's in the brand. It's in the kind of influence that makes the entire industry take notice simply by mentioning "where Qin Hao is."
Zhao Lanxin's lips twitched slightly, but she did not show any emotion.
"I understand." She said only three words, then picked up her bag and walked out of the meeting room without looking back.
-
the other side.
Qin Hao was woken up early in the morning by Uncle Fan's video call.
The phone kept buzzing and vibrating on the bedside table. He groggily reached for it, squinted, and answered it.
Uncle Fan's energetic face appeared on the screen, beaming: "Good morning, Teacher Qin Hao!"
Qin Hao checked the time—8:14.
"Mr. Fan, do you know what time I went to bed last night?" His voice was hoarse, and he was grumpy from just waking up.
"Well... Mr. Qin Hao, I really can't wait any longer. Shall we meet today?" Uncle Fan showed no remorse whatsoever, smiling broadly. "A hotel restaurant will do; I haven't booked anywhere else."
Qin Hao rolled over and closed his eyes again: "Fine, give me half an hour."
"No rush, no rush, I have plenty of time today."
Uncle Fan hung up the phone as soon as he finished speaking, decisively and without giving Qin Hao any chance to back out.
Half an hour later, Qin Hao appeared at the hotel's buffet restaurant wearing that loose black hoodie.
Uncle Fan was already seated by the window, a cup of tea in front of him, his briefcase on the chair beside him. He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt today, his hair was neatly combed, and he looked even more energetic than he had at the airport.
Qin Hao took a plate and walked around the buffet counter, ordering a little bit of everything: fried eggs, bacon, sausages, fried rice, and porridge. He also picked up two croissants, filling the plate to the brim.
Back in his seat, he didn't stand on ceremony and started eating right away.
Uncle Fan watched Qin Hao wolf down his food without getting impatient, always with a smile on his face, occasionally picking up his teacup to take a sip.
"Mr. Fan, won't you eat something with us?" Qin Hao asked, his mouth full of half a fried egg.
Uncle Fan smiled and waved his hand: "I've already had breakfast. Besides, these things are too oily; my stomach can't handle it at my age."
"Sure enough, rich people really know how to take care of their health," Qin Hao said half-jokingly, stuffing a grilled sausage into his mouth.
Uncle Fan replied with a forced smile, "Teacher Qin Hao is joking. It's not certain who has more assets than the other."
This wasn't entirely a compliment. The subscription revenue from Qin Hao's five works on Dingqi.com, the various copyright adaptation fees, plus the royalties from the overseas publication of "The Three-Body Problem," all add up to a considerable sum.
Qin Hao chuckled and didn't respond to that.
He devoured the food in a whirlwind until he had eaten everything on his plate, then put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Seeing that Qin Hao had put down his chopsticks, Uncle Fan calmly took out a contract from his briefcase and handed it over with both hands.
"Teacher Qin Hao, please take a look at this."
Qin Hao took the contract and casually flipped through it.
He read extremely fast, grasping the main points in just a few glances at a page. The contract terms flashed before his eyes.
To be honest, Dingqi.com's contract is quite sincere.
The subscription revenue share is two percentage points higher than the previous contract; the tipping revenue share is also two percentage points higher. These two items combined will result in a significant increase in real money. Even more remarkable is that Dingqi.com has also conceded one percentage point in the copyright fee share—it's important to understand that copyright fees are the bulk of the revenue, and Uncle Fan knows better than anyone what a one-percentage-point concession means.
"Mr. Fan, you've come prepared." Qin Hao closed the contract and smiled at Uncle Fan.
Uncle Fan chuckled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile: "That's how we show our respect for Professor Qin Hao! Besides, Professor Qin Hao deserves this kind of treatment—after all, your status is different now, a Hugo Award winner, an internationally renowned author!"
He spoke those last eight words with such conviction, as if he were finding a plausible reason for his concession.
But Qin Hao knew perfectly well what was going on.
Uncle Fan's concession was related to the Hugo Award, but it was not the fundamental reason.
Qin Hao understood that Dingqi.com was already being very generous by offering such terms, so he didn't push his luck any further.
He simply picked up a pen and signed the contract.
Uncle Fan breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Qin Hao finish the last stroke of the pen. He was afraid that Qin Hao would bring up some more changes—when they signed the contract last time, Qin Hao had insisted on changing the ten-year contract to a five-work contract, which still made him feel uneasy.
He quickly picked up a pen, scribbled his name on another contract, and handed it to Qin Hao.
After both parties had signed both contracts and each kept a copy, Uncle Fan picked up his teacup, gently blew on the tea leaves floating on the surface, and then tentatively asked:
"Is Teacher Qin Hao planning to take a break for a while longer, or...?"
He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear—when are you going to start writing the book?
Qin Hao put the contract into his bag, leaned back in his chair, and put his hands behind his head.
"I've already written the opening paragraph for the new book, and I can release it anytime."
Upon hearing this, Uncle Fan's eyes lit up.
He had assumed Qin Hao, having just returned to the country, would need some time to rest, but he hadn't expected him to have even finished the opening paragraph. This guy's efficiency was as terrifying as ever, even after two years.
"Oh?" Uncle Fan put down his teacup, leaned forward slightly, and asked with barely concealed excitement, "What type is it?"
Qin Hao thought for a moment, carefully choosing his words: "It's somewhat similar in style to the previous work."
"The Three-Body Problem?" Uncle Fan's eyes widened.
"No, it's not in the same style as 'The Three-Body Problem.' It's more like the style of 'Snowy Landscape.'"
"What's the title?"
Qin Hao's lips curled into a slight smile, then he kept everyone in suspense: "The book's title is also a line from a poem."
"Good! Good!" Uncle Fan said twice, picked up his teacup (using tea instead of wine), and raised it to Qin Hao: "Then I'll arrange it when I get back, a full-channel push, to ensure the new book gets top-tier exposure as soon as it's released!"
Qin Hao smiled, raised his glass of orange juice, and clinked it with his.
"Then I'll have to trouble you, Mr. Fan."
"It's not hard work, it's all what I should do."
Uncle Fan grinned from ear to ear, but his mind was already racing, devising a promotional plan. Multi-channel distribution was just the basics; what he wanted to do was leverage Qin Hao's Hugo Award-winning status with the new book to create a phenomenal reading phenomenon.
The two chatted for a few more minutes, then Uncle Fan glanced at his watch, got up to take his leave. As he left, he patted Qin Hao on the shoulder and said earnestly:
"Welcome back, Teacher Qin Hao."
Qin Hao nodded slightly, watching Uncle Fan's figure disappear at the restaurant entrance.
-
That evening, at 7:30 PM.
On the Bund, there is a Western restaurant called "LUNA".
The restaurant is located on the top floor of an old building by the river, with a terrace facing the Huangpu River. The lights of Lujiazui across the river resemble a flowing painting, and the outline of the Oriental Pearl Tower is faintly visible in the night. The interior decoration of the restaurant follows a minimalist style, with gray and white walls, dark brown wooden tables and chairs, and warm yellow lighting. There are no superfluous decorations, but every detail exudes sophistication.
Qin Hao arrived ten minutes early.
He chose a seat by the window, with an iced Americano in front of him. On the stage, a gray-haired foreigner sat at a grand piano, playing a little-known piece. The melody was soothing and elegant, like a thin veil draped over the entire restaurant.
Qin Hao got bored after listening for two minutes.
It wasn't that he didn't appreciate classical music, but he simply wasn't in the mood at the moment. It wasn't that he had anything on his mind; he was just—hungry.
Lin Zhanqiao said she would treat everyone to dinner, but she hasn't shown up yet.
Just as I was about to take out my phone to scroll through short videos to pass the time, I heard footsteps at the restaurant entrance.
Qin Hao raised his head.
Lin Zhanqiao walked in wearing a black V-neck dress, a camel-colored light trench coat, and high heels. Her makeup was more refined than usual today, with a darker lipstick that made her skin appear even whiter.
But she was accompanied by another person.
A woman with long, wavy hair.
She wore a burgundy silk blouse and black wide-leg trousers, with a thin gold belt around her waist. Her lips were bright red, her eyes held a smile, and her gait was languid yet alluring, as if every muscle in her body had been meticulously sculpted, effortlessly perfect.
The two women walked straight up to Qin Hao.
"Lin Zhanqiao, you're really something." Qin Hao leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking accusatory. "You promised to treat us to dinner, and you're late. Do you know how long I've been waiting?"
"So—" Lin Zhanqiao calmly pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at him with a smile, "I know I'm deeply guilty, so I specially brought a beautiful woman to apologize to you."
Zhou Mei sat down next to Lin Zhanqiao and glared at her: "No, I'm just here to pay my respects to the Hugo Award winner. I'm not getting involved in your business."
After the joke, Lin Zhanqiao formally introduced, "This is my best friend, Zhou Mei, who is also a big fan of your books."
Zhou Mei gracefully extended her hand to Qin Hao: "That's the truth. I've subscribed to all five of your novels on Dingqi.com."
Her voice was slightly hoarse, as if it were natural, unintentional yet captivating.
Qin Hao reached out and shook her hand. Just as he was about to exchange a few polite words, Zhou Mei continued speaking.
“But I’ve never really been interested in meeting the author.” She withdrew her hand, leaned back in her chair, and said casually, “If you like the work, just read the work; you don’t necessarily have to meet the author. Sometimes meeting the author can be disappointing—a well-written book doesn’t mean the author is worthy of appreciation.”
“Until I read your ‘The Three-Body Problem’—” Zhou Mei’s gaze became more serious, the languid air vanishing in an instant, replaced by a profound sense of awe: “I suddenly felt a strong urge to meet you.”
"So I had Lin Zhanqiao bring me here. Hope I'm not bothering you?"
The last question was directed at Qin Hao, and the tone was sincere with an open and honest look in his eyes.
Qin Hao looked at her and suddenly smiled.
"It is a bit of a disturbance—"
He paused for a moment, then turned to look at Lin Zhanqiao, his expression serious:
"Why don't you just disappear? You don't have to treat me to this meal."
Lin Zhanqiao glared at him fiercely: "You jerk who values women over friends! No way, I'm still treating you to this meal!"
The three chatted and laughed for a while, and the atmosphere was very harmonious. In particular, Zhou Mei showed no signs of awkwardness as if they were meeting for the first time.
Cruise ships on the Huangpu River slowly passed by, their horns blaring. The lights on the opposite bank were reflected on the water, shimmering like golden scales. The piano music had changed to a lively jazz tune, and the restaurant lights dimmed, creating an ambiguous and gentle atmosphere.
Qin Hao was cutting his steak when he suddenly remembered something and looked up at Lin Zhanqiao, asking, "By the way, how did your talk with Uncle Fan go?"
Lin Zhanqiao put down her fork and wiped her mouth with a tissue: "I already talked to him yesterday. Dingqi.com gave He Han some featured resources, but it can't compare to yours."
"By the way, what's the subject matter of your new book?"
Qin Hao said with a half-smile, "What? Gathering information for He Han?"
Lin Zhanqiao raised an eyebrow: "What? Are you scared?"
"Provocation won't work on me, but it doesn't matter if I tell you, you can't convince He Han to change the genre anyway." Qin Hao shrugged: "Fantasy genre, I've already thought of a title: Sword Comes!"
Lin Zhanqiao fell into deep thought, but Zhou Mei's eyes lit up: "So, this book is in the same style as Snowy Mountain?"
"Is the title 'Sword Comes' derived from a line spoken by Li Chungang?"
Qin Hao was somewhat surprised: "You've actually read my book?"
Zhou Mei rested her chin on her hand, a smile playing on her lips: "I've already told you, don't you believe me?"
"Of course I don't believe it. The prettier a woman is, the more likely she is to lie."
Is that a compliment you're giving me?
Lin Zhanqiao gestured between the two of them, saying, "That's enough, you two. Do you think I don't exist?" (End of Chapter)