Chapter 506: with translation of chapter title

July 1, 2008, Shenzhen.

In the conference room of Building 8 at Nanshan R&D Center, the air‑conditioning was on full blast, yet the seven people seated at the long table each had fine beads of sweat on their foreheads.

Li Yaozong sat in the head seat, with three thick technical proposals spread before him.

To his left was Chen Feng, head of the chip department.

To his right was Zhao Ming, head of the system department; further down were Wang Bo, Liu Yang, Zhang Lei, and a new face—video technology director Zhou Ye.

Zhou Ye, thirty‑six, wore black‑framed glasses and spoke at a breakneck pace, like a clock wound tight.

He was poached by Li Yaozong from the United States two months earlier, having spent ten years at a Silicon Valley video‑tech company and returning with seventeen patents.

"Mr. Li," Zhou Ye began, his voice unable to hide excitement, "we must capture the video segment."

He stood, walked to the whiteboard, and drew a large circle.

"What draws users to a smart device? Calls? Texts? Neither. It's content. It's video."

He drew three lines inside the circle.

"First line: video playback. Users can watch videos, scroll short clips, and view live streams on their phones. Second line: video upload. Users can send out what they film for others to see. Third line: video editing. Users can cut videos, add effects, and overlay music."

He turned and looked at the people present.

"We cannot miss any of these three lines."

The conference room fell silent for a few seconds.

Chen Feng spoke first.

"Video consumes the most chips."

He stood, walked to the side of Zhou Ye's circle, and added a square.

"Video decoding—H. 264, H. 265—requires hardware acceleration. Relying solely on the CPU makes the phone hot enough to fry an egg. Our current SoC has no video module designed in yet."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"Mr. Li, if we add it, we must re‑run the tapeout. Time and cost will both double."

Li Yaozong did not hesitate.

"Add it."

Chen Feng nodded and sat down again.

Zhao Ming then spoke.

"On the system side, the video framework must be rebuilt. The player, recorder, and editor are all new. Live streaming must keep latency under three seconds, or users will quit."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"Mr. Li, this needs personnel—at least another hundred."

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"Hire them."

Wang Bo stood up.

He heads the ecosystem department, thirty‑five, usually quiet but unstoppable once he starts speaking.

"Technology alone isn't enough; we need content. Users need a place to post videos. Once posted, people must watch them, like, comment, and share. The whole chain must work."

He walked to the whiteboard and, beneath the three lines, drew a row of small dots.

"We could create a 'Video Account' linked with Phoenix Chat. Users' videos would sync to their Friends Circle. Friends can view, comment, and share. More shares generate traffic; more traffic can be monetized."

He paused.

"Mr. Li, I suggest a creator revenue‑sharing plan. When users post videos and others watch, they get paid. The more viewers, the more money."

Li Yaozong's eyes lit up.

"Continue."

"We can call the plan the 'Phoenix Creator Fund.' First year, allocate fifty million; second year, one hundred million, to entice video‑makers to publish on our platform."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"Mr. Li, fifty million isn't much, but it could mobilize more people than fifty million in ad spend."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"Approved."

Liu Yang stood up.

Head of the display department, thirty‑seven, spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Video demands a high‑grade screen. Resolution, refresh rate, and color gamut must all be top‑notch."

He drew a phone screen on the whiteboard.

"Our current screen is 260 ppi with a 60 Hz refresh rate. Static images are fine; video shows noticeable ghosting."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"Mr. Li, I suggest raising the refresh rate to 90 Hz. Cost goes up slightly, but the experience improves dramatically."

Li Yaozong thought for a moment.

"Can we do it?"

Liu Yang nodded.

"Yes. New panels from Japan support 90 Hz. Samples have arrived and test results are good."

"Then do it. We need our own technology, not reliance on others."

Zhang Lei stood up. Head of the battery department.

"Video drains power."

He drew a downward‑sloping curve on the whiteboard.

"Watching video for an hour consumes five times the power of reading text. Live streaming is worse: camera on, network running, chip processing, and the battery drains rapidly."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"President Li, our current battery is 2,000 mAh. Watching video, it lasts four hours. Users will definitely think it's too little."

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"What can we do?"

Zhang Lei thought for a moment.

"Two approaches. First, increase the battery to 3,000 mAh, which can last six hours. Second, optimize power consumption. Video decoding uses hardware acceleration, which saves power compared to software."

He paused.

"I suggest we do both approaches together."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"Then let's do them together."

Zhou Ye stood up again.

He walked to the whiteboard and, above the cluster of circles, drew a big arrow.

"President Li, what I just said is the first step. The second step is the editing software."

He looked at the people present.

"Users record videos and want to edit them—cut out the excess, add music, add a filter, add a transition. This demand is huge."

He paused.

"We need to create a mobile editing software called 'Phoenix Cut'. The operation must be simple, the features sufficient, and export fast. Users should be able to edit right after shooting and publish immediately after editing."

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"How long will it take to finish?"

Zhou Ye thought for a moment.

"Give me fifty people, eight months, and we can deliver a usable version."

Li Yaozong did not hesitate.

"Give you a hundred. Six months."

Wang Bo stood up again.

"The editing software must integrate with the video channel. After editing, users can publish with one click. Once published, it automatically syncs to the friend circle. Friends who see it can comment, repost, and favorite."

He drew a closed-loop line on the whiteboard.

"The favorite function is crucial. When users see a good video they want to keep for later, they click favorite. The more favorites we have, the better we understand what users like and can recommend more."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"President Li, the data from favorites is a gold mine."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"Understood."

Zhao Ming raised his hand.

"There's another issue—live streaming."

He stood up and walked to the whiteboard.

"Live streaming is far more complex than recorded broadcast. Real-time encoding, real-time transmission, real-time decoding—each link must not lag. If it stalls for a second, users will leave."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"President Li, for live streaming we need a dedicated technical solution. Keep latency under three seconds, picture quality clear, and audio synchronized."

Li Yaozong thought for a moment.

"Can we make it work?"

Zhao Ming nodded.

"Yes. But it requires time, people, and servers."

"How many?"

"At least another fifty engineers and five hundred servers."

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"Approve."

Zhou Ye stood up again.

"President Li, there's another feature called 'Animation'."

He drew several little figures on the whiteboard.

"Users record videos and can add animation—add a little cat or dog, add a funny emoji, add special‑effect subtitles. Young people love this."

He looked at Li Yaozong.

"We can build an animation library linked to the editing software. Users click once, and the animation is applied."

Li Yaozong smiled.

"That's a good idea."

Zhou Ye nodded.

"Then I'll have someone handle it."

The meeting ran from 2 p. m. to 7 p. m.

In five hours, we went through every link of the video technology.

Playback, upload, live streaming, editing, animation, creator revenue share, favorites, repost, share, likes…

Each feature is a mountain.

Each mountain must be climbed.

When the meeting adjourned, Li Yaozong did not leave immediately.

He sat in the conference room, looking at the whiteboard covered with circles.

Chen Feng walked over and sat down beside him.

"General Manager Li, how many people are needed for today's items in total?"

Li Yaozong thought for a moment.

"Playback side, fifty. Upload side, thirty. Live broadcast side, fifty. Editing side, one hundred. Animation side, twenty. Ecology side, twenty. In total…"

He did the calculation.

"Two hundred and seventy."

Chen Feng nodded.

"Where do the people come from?"

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"Recruit. Recruit nationwide. Recruit worldwide."

He paused briefly.

"General Manager Chen, do you know what I fear most?"

Chen Feng shook his head.

"What I fear most is not a shortage of people. It's that people arrive and the work cannot be completed."

He looked out the window.

Outside, Shenzhen's evening glow was deep. In the distance, Fenghuang Mountain was dyed a golden‑red, and at its foot the Nanshan R&D Center's building complex glittered in the sunset.

"These people will devote their youth to Fenghuang. We must live up to them."

Chen Feng was silent for a few seconds.

"Director Li, rest assured. Our company's benefits are good, allowing them to showcase their strengths."

At eight p. m., Li Yaozong returned to the office.

On the desk lay a report that had just been delivered.

It was Fenghuang's data.

Daily active users: 320 million.

Video views: yesterday surpassed one billion.

He turned to the next page.

Number of creators: exceeded one million.

Three months after the creator revenue‑sharing plan launched, the total distributed share payments amounted to 37 million.

He finished reading and closed the report.

He picked up the Telephone and dialed a number.

"Zhou Ye?"

"Director Li."

"How is the editing software's progress?"

"Faster than expected. The core is already running, now we're working on the interface. An internal test version should be ready next month."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"Good. If any problems arise, tell me anytime."

"Understood."

He hung up, stood, and walked to the window.

Outside, Shenzhen's night was deep.

In the distance, the lights of the Nanshan R&D Center shone like a field of stars.

Over two thousand people were working toward the same goal.

He recalled the words spoken at today's meeting.

Playback, upload, live broadcast, editing, animation, revenue sharing, bookmarking, reposting, sharing, liking…

Each of these features requires people, money, and time.

But they must be done.

If we don't do them, users will go elsewhere.

Without it, the Fenghuang Smart Machine is just an empty shell.

Without it, we can't keep up with this era.

The next morning at nine, Nanshan R&D Center Building 8.

Zhou Ye stood at the elevator entrance, holding a stack of employee information.

The elevator doors opened, and more than a hundred young people streamed out. Some wore backpacks, others carried laptop bags.

Zhou Ye looked at them and smiled.

"Everyone, welcome to the Fenghuang Video Department."

He pointed to the corridor behind him.

"The office is over there. Workstations are ready, the computers are all new. The cafeteria is on the second floor; next to it is the gym, and beside the gym is the lounge."

He paused.

"Starting today, we'll work together."

The group of young people looked at him; some nodded, some smiled, some had already started walking inside.

Zhou Ye turned around and walked with them.

At the end of the hallway was a glass door.

On the door was attached a sign; the characters on the sign were new, the paint not yet dry:

"Phoenix Video Technology R&D Center"

He pushed open the door.

Behind the door, a patch of light had just lit up.