Chapter 287: A Little Cross-Promotion with the Game
Chapter 287: A Little Cross-Promotion with the Game
Ma Yiqun quickly checked the comments under the official novel of Turn Back Before It’s Too Late and discovered that many of the new readers had actually come from the game.
Of course, Ma Yiqun knew the game had already been released—after all, he and the editors had worked together on its story. They’d poured a lot of effort into crafting that narrative.
What surprised him, though, was that so many readers were coming over just to “sightsee”!
As someone who had once worked as a story designer, Ma Yiqun was very familiar with the reality of the domestic gaming industry.
“Story designer” in most studios basically meant “reskin designer.”
In the current Chinese gaming scene, the story was often the least valued part of a game.
Especially for mobile and browser games—most project teams didn’t even bother hiring dedicated story writers. They’d just have one of the gameplay designers, as long as they could write a few decent sentences, double as a scriptwriter.
Even for larger PC games that needed some story content, companies were notoriously stingy. At most, they’d hire a fresh literature graduate and pay them the lowest possible salary.
In short: most domestic developers didn’t care about storylines, and most players didn’t care about them either.
Whether players ignored story because developers didn’t write good ones, or developers stopped caring because players ignored them—that was like the chicken-or-egg paradox. There was no clear answer.
Either way, in the domestic market, story-driven design was not taken seriously.
Even overseas, where some AAA games had excellent storytelling, the number of players who would go out of their way to read the original novel was still tiny.
Ma Yiqun believed the official novel of Turn Back Before It’s Too Late was quite well written—but he never imagined it would have this kind of response!
The situation was completely beyond his expectations, and it left him shocked.
He immediately began to dig deeper to figure out what was going on.
Soon, he noticed that many of the commenters were fans from “Teacher Qiao’s sightseeing brigade,” and following that trail, he found this Teacher Qiao’s video.
After watching it, Ma Yiqun suddenly understood everything.
So that’s how it was—it wasn’t just about the story itself!
The thing was, even though many foreign AAA games had great plots, the story content in the game and in the novel usually overlapped.
Sometimes, the novel version was even incomplete, while the game expanded upon it substantially.
From a content perspective, if the novel scored a 7 out of 10, the game would be a full 10 out of 10.
And since games were a far more immersive and visually expressive medium than text alone, the perceived gap between game and novel would be even wider.
That’s why most players didn’t bother reading the original novels—they were just abridged versions of the game’s story.
But Turn Back Before It’s Too Late was completely different!
The game’s story was deliberately vague and fragmented. If the novel contained the full “10 points” of the narrative, the game only revealed about 5.
Many parts of the plot were merely hinted at—buried as foreshadowing within item descriptions or obscure dialogue lines.
And yet, Turn Back Before It’s Too Late was an excellent game, deeply meaningful and emotionally resonant. Players formed a powerful emotional connection with the characters as they played. Naturally, that drove their curiosity about the underlying story.
When they encountered unresolved mysteries in the game, it was only natural for them to seek answers—by coming to read the official novel and untangle their confusion.
Ma Yiqun couldn’t help but sigh in admiration.
Brilliant!
Why hadn’t they thought of this angle back when they were writing the official novel?
Originally, Ma Yiqun hadn’t paid much attention to the plot or the official novel—it was Zhu Anxing who’d always been the enthusiastic one. If not for him, the novel probably wouldn’t still be updating to this day.
“I can’t believe I didn’t take something this important seriously! I almost delayed one of President Pei’s major plans. That’s unacceptable.”
He paused for a moment and nodded to himself.
“As expected, Zhu Anxing really is a talent worth cultivating.”
But then he quickly shook his head.
“Wait, this isn’t the time for that. I’ve got to focus on keeping this momentum going!”
Suddenly, Ma Yiqun realized something crucial—as the CEO of Terminal Chinese Web, it was his turn to step up!
President Pei had gone through all this trouble to use the game to funnel in a flood of new users and readers to the site—they had to make sure those people stayed.
He understood that Turn Back Before It’s Too Late would keep bringing in traffic for quite a while. Over the next few days, maybe even weeks, the website’s numbers would continue to climb.
But that kind of traffic was superficial. Most visitors were just coming to take a quick look at the game’s official novel. Whether they’d actually stick around was another story entirely.
So he had to find a way to keep them.
Without hesitation, Ma Yiqun called over Zhu Anxing.
“Quick! Get the operations team together and plan a new event. We need to retain all these new readers!”
“Remember that ‘new user free reading’ promo we ran before? Take that and crank it up!”
“We’ll structure it like the game’s seven-day login event.”
Since he wasn’t sure Zhu Anxing would be familiar with how that system worked, Ma Yiqun explained it in detail.
In most games, if players can be encouraged to log in for seven days straight, they’ll usually form a habit—and stay.
That’s why browser and mobile games came up with the seven-day login reward system: for each of the first seven days, players get special tasks and valuable rewards to hook them in and make logging in a daily routine.
Cliché as it might be, it worked.
Otherwise, it wouldn’t have become standard practice in virtually every online game.
“We’ll do the same thing. Give readers small daily tasks—like reading for a certain amount of time, adding a few books to their libraries, things like that.”
“Make the activities simple. Just something that takes a few clicks to complete.”
“The key is the rewards—especially on day two and day seven. Day seven’s reward needs to be the most exciting, with day two’s just slightly less impressive—but still tempting enough.”
“Got any ideas?”
Ma Yiqun turned to Zhu Anxing.
Zhu thought for a moment.
“How about this—a one-week free reading pass for logging in on day two, and a one-month pass for day seven?”
Ma Yiqun frowned slightly and shook his head.
“Hmm… too repetitive. And to most readers, there’s not much difference between one week and one month of free reading.”
“If they like reading on our site, a one-week pass will be enough to hook them. If they don’t, even a month won’t change that.”
“We need something with a real wow factor.”
Zhu Anxing paused, then suddenly brightened.
“Then… what if we link it to the game somehow? Since all these readers came from the game, that’s what they really care about.”
Ma Yiqun’s eyes lit up, and he slapped his hands together.
“Perfect! That’s it!”
“If we do a collaboration with the game, the appeal to players will skyrocket!”
“And the best part,” Ma Yiqun continued, “is that this doesn’t require any extra funding, nor do we need to report it to President Pei. I’ll just give Li Yada a heads-up privately and that’ll be enough.”
“Alright then—it’s settled. Day one login: three days of full-site access. Day two login: seven days of full-site access. Day seven login: an exclusive crossover item from the game.”
“For the other days, we’ll still have rewards—maybe some Terminal Coins, discount vouchers, things like that.”
Zhu Anxing nodded.
“Got it. I’ll notify the operations team right away and have them draw up the event plan as soon as possible.”
In an instant, the staff at Terminal Chinese Web were fully energized.
All that time spent “raising the troops” was finally paying off—President Pei had gone out of his way to bring in such a massive wave of traffic.
If they couldn’t manage to retain it, they’d be letting him down in the worst possible way—they might as well start packing their bags.
Meanwhile, Ma Yiqun sent a message to Li Yada to discuss the specifics of the crossover event between the game and the website.
. . .
Against the Wind Logistics Headquarters.
At this point, Pei Qian had already opened over a hundred Against the Wind Logistics Stations, and the number was about to surpass two hundred.
These stations were scattered across various districts in Jingzhou City. However, for administrative and clerical work, they still needed a dedicated office space.
Currently, the headquarters of Against the Wind Logistics is located in a two-story commercial building. The first floor served as one of their delivery stations, while the second floor housed their office operations.
Of course, once the company expanded further, they’d definitely need to relocate to a larger site.
Pei Qian went straight up to the second floor and found Lu Mingliang.
Lu Mingliang had adapted well to his new role. His desk was piled high with paperwork, his computer had been swapped for a sleek business laptop—he looked every bit the part of a professional manager.
“President Pei, you didn’t have to come in person for something this small,” Lu Mingliang said warmly as he stood up to greet him, pouring him a cup of tea.
Pei Qian took a sip and sat down on the sofa, trying to calm his nerves.
Clearly, Lu Mingliang had no idea how dire the situation really was.
“Something this small”?
This was not a small matter!
His entire fortune—his very life, even—was now riding on Moyu Internet Café and Against the Wind Logistics Stations.
If not for these two massive money sinks, there was a real chance that President Pei would already be standing on a rooftop somewhere, contemplating the end.
Of course, Pei Qian prided himself on remaining calm under pressure—a man who could face the collapse of Mount Tai without so much as a frown. So, naturally, he maintained his composure, silently sipping his tea.
“How are things going with the new Against the Wind Logistics stations?”
Lu Mingliang was well-prepared.
“Don’t worry, President Pei. The new stations have all been scheduled and are being prepared at full speed. My plan is to recruit staff and secure venues simultaneously, so we can open them as quickly as possible.”
As he spoke, he pulled out a detailed report—listing the planned locations, layouts, posted job ads, and current recruitment progress.
Pei Qian was slightly taken aback.
The only reason he’d come to personally supervise this time was that he was worried Lu Mingliang might not fully grasp the urgency of the situation.
But after listening to Lu Mingliang’s report, Pei Qian realized he had been overthinking things.
Lu Mingliang was actually very reliable!
It seemed that transferring him to Against the Wind Logistics had been an extremely wise decision.
After all, Lu Mingliang’s defining trait was obedience—whatever President Pei said, he would carry out faithfully, without adding his own interpretations or making impulsive decisions.
Entrusting such a critical, lifeline-level department to someone like Lu Mingliang gave Pei Qian much more peace of mind.
When the report was done, Lu Mingliang smiled and asked,
“President Pei, this whole large-scale expansion of Against the Wind Logistics… there’s some deeper strategic meaning behind it, isn’t there?”
Pei Qian froze for a moment.
Deeper meaning? What deeper meaning?
The “meaning” was that if I don’t start spending money fast, I’m doomed!
After a short silence, Pei Qian asked calmly, “Why do you say that?”
Lu Mingliang gave him a knowing smile, the kind that said I understand completely.
“Well, if these Against the Wind Logistics Stations weren’t tied to some important long-term plan, you wouldn’t be so eager to roll them out all across the city in such a short time, right?”
Pei Qian paused—actually, that… did make sense.
From Lu Mingliang’s perspective, the Against the Wind Logistics didn’t have any real urgency. Whether they were opened a month earlier or later wouldn’t seem to make a huge difference.
So why was President Pei in such a hurry?
Clearly, it must be because this expansion was connected to some greater, hidden strategy!
Pei Qian took another sip of tea and gave a faint nod—a silent form of approval.
Sure, think whatever you want.
As long as you keep opening those stations quickly and burn through my budget before the profits start rolling in, I’ll be more than satisfied.
When the tea was finished, Pei Qian finally felt at ease. After giving Lu Mingliang a few more urgent reminders to race against time, he turned and left the office.
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 328: All the Finalized Gameplay Plans Were Overturned
Link to the latest chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/147284227?collection=1399284
https://www.patreon.com/collection/1399284?view=expanded
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.