Chapter 995

The internet is just that magical—some people rack their brains trying to market themselves, yet never go viral.

Others simply post daily videos of raising their kids, and suddenly become wildly popular.

Luo Quan originally thought her brother hitting fifty million followers was the limit, but she admitted she’d still underestimated how much the public adored the combo of a handsome dad plus an ultra-cute baby.

After surpassing fifty million followers, Leon’s Douyin followers kept growing by at least three million per day.

If nothing unexpected happens, he’ll hit one hundred million in another half-month.

The last person to achieve this feat was a man who posted videos of himself doing fitness routines with his wife.

This time, the scene shifted slightly—from fitness routines to parenting.

“In the days I was away, how exactly did you run this account?”

Luo Quan refreshed her brother’s Douyin account, utterly baffled.

She was one of China’s top stars, yet her Douyin followers barely reached twenty million.

Although that had something to do with her rarely posting videos there, she barely posted on Weibo either—and yet still had over eighty million followers.

This left her completely perplexed.

“I don’t know either,” Leon grinned, flashing a row of bright white teeth. “I just wanted to share our family’s daily life, and somehow it blew up.”

“That sounds familiar,” Luo Quan thought carefully. “Isn’t that the exact line those staged-content creators always use?”

“If you insist on calling it staged, then sure.”

Leon paused, then nodded. “Placing the baby there to film videos—that’s staging, isn’t it?”

“Small fame comes from promotion, big fame comes from fate—Leon’s fate has clearly arrived,” Wen Xia patted her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t be jealous; your position on Bilibili is still rock-solid.”

“I’m the boss of Bilibili—why should I care about status?” Luo Quan gave Wen Xia a weary look.

“Since everyone’s here, how about I go live?” Leon suddenly suggested. “Douyin staff have been pushing me to livestream for ages—they even wanted to sign me—but I’ve got a contract with Universal, so I turned them down.”

Luo Quan laughed. “No big deal—just go live. You don’t need a contract to stream; you’ll just get a smaller share of gifts.”

“I’m not short on cash,” Leon waved his hand and opened a Douyin livestream with his phone.

The camera focused on Arthur, sleeping in his stroller, while Leon sat beside it, scrolling through comments on another phone.

Because his popularity was sky-high, the livestream instantly hit a million viewers—even without any announcement.

“Wait, how come you didn’t even give a heads-up before going live?”

“I love surprises like this.”

“Is Arthur sleeping? So adorable.”

“You’re Gezhe stroller—how can you even see his face?”

“Use your imagination—you’ve watched so many videos already.”

“Where are Mom and Dad? Come out for a sec!”

………………

Amid the flood of comments, Leon adjusted the camera to frame the whole family on the sofa.

There were plenty of women in the house, but most stayed in their rooms, only coming down to eat or when they got bored.

Sitting on the sofa now were Leon and Mia, plus Luo Quan and Wen Xia.

Seeing unexpected faces, Douyin viewers immediately erupted in comments:

“Holy shit, Luo Quan and Wen Xia are here too!”

“This family’s looks are insane—just looking at them is a visual treat.”

“If Luo Xi were here too, it’d be even livelier, and Arthur would have a playmate.”

“Even though these two kids are only two years apart, Luo Xi is Arthur’s third aunt.”

“When they both start elementary school, imagine Arthur calling Luo Xi ‘third aunt’—the classmates will be stunned.”

“Just picturing it is hilarious.”

………………

In China, family hierarchy is never messed with, so viewers loved teasing about it.

But Leon didn’t care much—he wasn’t even sure if Luo Xi and Arthur would ever attend the same school.

“By the way, you’ve all been asking what formula Arthur drinks—why is he so rarely fussy?”

Leon pulled his older sister over and introduced her seriously: “This is the CEO of the formula company. Today, I paid out of my own pocket to get a special discount for the family.”

“Boss, speak up—how are you selling this?”

“You’ve got real sales talent,” Luo Quan laughed. “Our Spring Water brand is currently running a promotion—new or existing customers can buy up to three cans at an 85% discount.”

“And if you buy ten or more cans at once, you get an extra 95% discount!”

Luo Quan had full confidence in her company’s formula quality, so they rarely ran promotions.

But with June 18 coming up, they’d planned a campaign—and since Leon was already going viral, she seized the moment to announce it.

Leon had no idea this was coming—he thought his sister would just randomly give away ten free cans. That’s normal fan appreciation.

He did have a formula link in his livestream, and it offered the lowest price on the market.

In his view, that price was already a sale.

Other livestream sellers claimed they were giving family discounts, but they were actually scamming their own families.

A necklace costing twenty yuan would be priced at ten thousand, then “negotiated” down to two hundred after fake haggling, with the seller claiming he was taking a loss.

Then the family would go wild placing orders, thinking they’d scored a steal—while the seller made a net profit of 180 yuan.

Leon had seen too many of these “fake discount, real markup” tricks, so he’d just wanted to make a joke to mock them—but his sister actually cooperated perfectly.

A product priced in the hundreds of yuan at 85% off? Buy one can and save dozens; buy more and save even more. Such deals don’t come often.

Leon became famous through parenting videos, and most of his viewers were parents raising kids—or soon-to-be parents—so demand for quality formula was huge.

And Spring Water formula didn’t even need to mention its magical effect on reducing fussiness—just the official royal British seal of approval already crushed most imported brands.

Plus, the packaging featured the British Crown—exclusively licensed. What kind of prestige was that?

None of Leon’s livestream family had ever seen anything like it—anyone who needed formula, or knew someone who did, clicked through the link to Taobao and went wild placing orders.

“Sales have broken ten million!”

As the manufacturer, Luo Quan now mimicked her peers, shrieking in delight, while Wen Xia laughed uncontrollably beside her.

“Do you have to act so over-the-top, Luo Luo?” Wen Xia rolled around on the sofa. “Just add some fake tears—you’re killing me.”

Luo Quan laughed too: “I’m just spicing up the livestream atmosphere—I saw other sellers do it this way.”

Viewers also burst out laughing at Luo Quan’s ridiculous performance:

“Luo Quan’s acting has clearly declined since the last time we saw her.”

“Shocking: Two-time Oscar winner turns into a screaming queen—her legendary acting is gone forever.”

“You really understand UC News.”

“To be honest, Spring Water formula is really good—my baby’s been drinking it since birth, and at six months old, hasn’t gotten sick once.”

“Most importantly, it’s cheap—only around five hundred yuan per can, unlike imported brands that cost over a thousand.”

“Is there some kind of tech added?”

“Leon’s nephew drinks this formula—what tech could they possibly add?”

“Who dares tamper with formula these days?”

“Here’s a scary story: Leon’s Douyin followers just hit sixty million!”

………………

Only after viewers pointed it out did Leon realize he’d hit a new milestone.

“Awesome, family! My first livestream already boosted me this much—I guess I’ll have to stream more often.”

Leon was in great spirits. While most people associate high viewership with big money, he wasn’t short on cash—he cared more about self-fulfillment.

If he could really reach one hundred million followers, the sense of achievement alone would make him feel energized.

Soon, news of Leon’s sixty million Douyin followers hit Weibo’s trending list.

His popularity had exploded lately—almost any minor move landed him on trending, nearly matching Luo Quan’s peak.

“Leon’s ‘Dad Adventure’ is seriously impressive—only up to episode six and already this many viewers?”

“Leon is my ideal husband—everything he says is so right, too bad he’s taken.”

“Haha, even if he weren’t taken, he wouldn’t be yours, sis.”

“I can’t have Leon, just like you can’t have Luo Quan.”

“Mutual damage, huh? That really stings.”

"So you want to hurt each other, huh? Now it really cuts deep."

Netizens never stopped creating memes—because of Leon’s fame, parenting videos became the hottest category.

Many men began copying Leon, uploading videos of themselves raising babies with their wives.

Though the quality varied wildly, views were still surprisingly high.

This was what they called: when you’re on the right Fengkou , even a pig can fly.

Leon had created the Fengkou , and capital quickly spotted this untapped goldmine, rushing to copy and imitate.

Of course, Leon himself was the biggest goldmine of all.

Since going viral, countless companies had approached him.

Some wanted to sign him to livestreaming contracts—but since he was under Universal, he turned them all down.

Others wanted him to promote products, but after checking the goods, he judged the chance of them scamming his family at 99%, so he declined.

Beyond those two, there were no other promising projects for now.

Setting those two aside, there are no other particularly good options for now.

But that was before—after helping his older sister promote her baby formula, with sales breaking ten million yuan per minute, major manufacturers finally realized the economic power of Leon’s fans.

That’s how internet celebrities are: traffic and monetization are two different things.

Some have millions of followers but still can’t monetize as well as those with just a hundred thousand.

Leon’s fans are young fathers and mothers; people bold enough to have kids at this age usually have some financial means.

At least enough to buy a house and afford the bride price.

And they’re also the most willing to spend on their babies, spending generously.

So when they saw a high-quality, affordable formula on sale, they acted decisively.

Besides fathers and mothers, Leon’s fans are also young idol-loving girls.

This group’s spending power ranks among the top in Huaxia; otherwise, they wouldn’t have single-handedly created an entire fan culture.

Both groups are flush with cash, so they quickly caught the attention of major brands in maternal and infant products and women’s goods.

When he saw the names of these well-known brands, Leon finally realized what kind of resource he held.

His combined followers on Douyin and Weibo are nearly one hundred million—and still growing rapidly.

If he chose to promote products, even just one in ten thousand of them were willing to pay, it would be a massive sum.

“No wonder modern Huaxian celebrities are so obsessed with product promotion—many don’t even bother filming dramas anymore.”

Leon muttered to himself, staring at the backend data.

“You’re just realizing this now?” Luo Quan chuckled. “People’s spending power is extremely strong, especially when buying things that seem impressive but are actually useless.”

“Then why don’t you promote anything?” Leon asked curiously.

Luo Quan smiled and shook her head: “My fans are all anime-loving shut-ins. They’ll gladly buy my photo books—that’d sell like crazy—but asking them to buy Chanel products I endorse? That’s nearly impossible.”

It’s true: shut-ins like completely different things from ordinary people.

Action figures, models, photo books, manga, computer gear, and virtual products online.

They’re willing to spend on all of these—if it’s good, they’ll pay top price without hesitation.

But things that clearly look like scams? They might do well on Douyin, but they won’t sell at all on Bilibili.

Luo Quan knew this well, so she rarely promotes products during livestreams—even when she does, it’s only her own company’s formula or cars.

After all, they’re her company’s products; quality is guaranteed.

“In short, if you’re going to promote anything, make sure the quality is flawless—otherwise, if the product fails, you’ll get roasted,” Luo Quan warned her younger brother in advance.

“Like I said, I don’t need the money,” Leon had no interest whatsoever. “The only shopping link in my livestream is the Quan’s Formula—no second one will ever appear.”

Luo Quan smiled: “You never know—maybe the company will launch a new product soon, like anti-leak baby diapers.”

“Pfft!” Wen Xia, who was drinking water, spat it out immediately; Miya was laughing uncontrollably.

Leon stared blankly at the three women, wondering why diapers were so funny.

Anti-leak? That’s a great design.