Chapter 133: Traffic Rules the Kingdom (Request Monthly Votes, Request Rewards)

Fang Hong left as usual, arriving at dusk and staying no longer than usual.

Liu Xiaoli pretended to chase him away, though she spoke that way, he, shameless, didn't leave—and yet, he still felt a little embarrassed.

Liu Tianxian had given him a set of sportswear, a high-end brand; the next day, Fang Hong wore it—not to exercise, but as everyday clothing.

"Huh, Xiao Hong, when did you buy this outfit?" Xu Liyun noticed it but had never seen it before.

"Liu Tianxian gave it to me. She didn't even send me a suit—ugly as hell," Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian's taste in clothes was truly beyond praise, but at least she had money to buy branded gear.

Branded stuff—how ugly could it possibly be?

"She gave it to you and you complain?"

Xu Liyun pulled her son's arm and inspected it: "Looks fine. Just wear it."

"I'll ask her to send you a set someday," Fang Hong said.

"I don't need it. I have clothes."

After chatting with his mother, Fang Hong went to work as usual. Upon arriving at the company, he received a message from Liu Tianxian.

The message told him not to come in the afternoon—she and her mother were going out for two days, then would enter production.

Fang Hong replied, "Okay!" She didn't even invite him to go out—obviously, their feelings still weren't there.

Actually, Liu Xiaoli had dragged her daughter away to keep them at a distance; if they kept clinging together daily, someone might eventually lose control.

In the afternoon, Wang Zhangtian came to Yutu to continue their previous conversation—the cooperation project.

This meeting would also involve Meng Jun from finance.

It was a brand-new project, and Fang Hong planned to have him execute it.

They sat again in the same office, where the sign read "Tandang."

The three sat in a triangle; Fang Hong said: "General Manager Wang, this project depends entirely on how much you're willing to invest."

"I can still afford movies," Wang Zhangtian assumed he meant film production.

He sounded very confident. But Fang Hong shook his head: "Not movies. I want to build a ticketing platform."

"Ticketing platform?"

Wang Zhangtian didn't immediately grasp it.

Because internet companies had barely touched this field, let alone film enterprises—they lacked the qualifications.

"Yes. Previously, movie tickets were sold only offline in physical form. Now, the landscape will change—movie tickets will be sold online," Fang Hong briefly outlined his idea.

This wasn't a secret—someone was already doing it, like Damai, which handled online ticket sales for concerts, plays, musicals, and sports events.

Maoyan, which would rise later, wouldn't be founded until next year, and even then, it only excelled in the movie sector.

If he did it, film distribution wouldn't be a problem—he had film resources and could specify releases.

The only downside? It was insanely expensive—super cash-burning. Without spending over a billion a year, you couldn't even stand your ground.

But if done well, it would become an excellent promotional platform: audiences could buy tickets online and simultaneously see movie promotions.

It would cover both distribution and publicity.

His own channels were limited, and his capital was scarce; others kept accusing him of monopolizing everything, so he'd bring in capital partners.

Wang Zhangtian had many channels: entertainment news, film and TV advertising media, online and offline events.

For example, Huabiao Awards Awards, Golden Rooster Awards, Hundred Flowers Awards, and Music Billboard all involved Guangxian's participation in hosting.

All of these involved ticket sales or publicity—if he joined, it would give them access to these channels.

Of course, Guangxian alone wasn't enough; they'd need other capital partners with channels too.

"This field requires specialized talent and capital—you can't just play around. We're not even in this industry," Wang Zhangtian realized this was an internet venture.

"That's true, but I want to try," Fang Hong said.

Wang Zhangtian thought about it—it could indeed be done; if successful, their distribution power would leap forward. But he felt it was too realistic now: mobile platforms hadn't taken off, funding was insufficient, and technology wasn't ready.

In his original timeline, he'd invested in Maoyan years later to enter this field.

But back then, Maoyan had Tencent and Meituan's massive traffic pools behind it—it was obvious when to jump in; you just spent money and joined.

Now, with Yutu doing it, he hesitated—he felt they lacked the strength to pull it off, and if they rushed in, the money might vanish.

Yutu had only been around for a year and a half—how could it possibly be this powerful? "How much are you planning to invest, Director Fang?" Wang Zhangtian asked.

"I haven't settled on an amount yet, but I'm definitely seeing this through," Fang Hong said.

"Alright, you go ahead and start. I'll think it over," Wang Zhangtian said.

He wanted Fang Hong to test the waters first—he'd enter only when things looked promising. Clever calculation.

After all, this wasn't a few million.

"Fine!" Fang Hong didn't care.

He'd thrown out the olive branch—whether to take it was Wang Zhangtian's choice.

Wang Zhangtian had originally come to Fang Hong to propose a film project—Guangxian funding, Yutu producing—but instead, Fang Hong had thrown him a ticketing platform.

Let's wait and see. He was tempted—but it depended on who was doing it. If Yutu was behind it, he'd observe quietly.

Fang Hong wouldn't give up film production—content was his core business; he wouldn't share it.

After Wang Zhangtian left, Fang Hong told Meng Jun: "We'll handle this ourselves. Ignore him." "Got it. I'll arrange it," Meng Jun said.

For this period, Fang Hong and he had been planning the Yutu Ticket platform and already had a preliminary plan.

But this plan wouldn't be shown to Wang Zhangtian—he could invest as a partner if he wished, or stay out if he didn't.

Fang Hong absolutely had to control the ticketing platform—no alternatives. This would overturn the existing distribution model.

In the future, people would get used to buying tickets online.

After confirming this, Fang Hong met Xu Yi from Hangzhou—the founder of Bilibili.

Right now, Bilibili isn't in Shanghai—it's in Hangzhou.

This platform is one for sharing videos and bullet comments, and later it formed a cultural community unique to young people.

The platform's features are similar to the overseas YouTube, but also different from YouTube, because Bilibili got its start from anime and the two-dimensional world.

In other words, many people who love anime gathered there.

Right now this platform has only just begun, still in its starting phase, it hasn't even developed a mobile version, and the founders number only a pitiful three people.

Every month they take Weibo's advertising fees, calculate operating costs, and painstakingly run the business.

As for traffic, there's no need to even mention it—many people haven't even heard of such a thing.

"Mr. Xu, one million dollars, I'll acquire the platform, you take 10% of the shares, you and your team split it." Fang Hong was very decisive, very domineering.

In other words, 7 million, to take all of Bilibili's equity, and the three of them get another 10% of the shares.

Now Fang Hong speaks using "knives" as his unit!

Of course the overall direction must be controlled by Fang Hong; he absolutely won't let Bilibili go messing around with cars, games, coffee, cosmetics, hanfu, and all that乱七八糟 nonsense.

The later Bilibili losing money, a large part of the reason was that guy named Chen Rui coming in and investing recklessly.

On average investing in one company every seven days, that's investing in over fifty companies a year.

Invested across all 365 trades—how could it not lose money?

Where are that many profitable companies for you to invest in? Without foreknowledge, 90% of investments lose money, they're money down the drain.

Now with Fang Hong in control, the future Bilibili will be a pure video-sharing platform and two-dimensional platform, no flashy nonsense.

Just focus on doing mid-length videos and anime well, gather all the young people's traffic, nothing else.

The future era is one where content is king, traffic is king—as long as these two are grasped tightly, Fang Hong can soar to the heavens.

Xu Yi was made somewhat uncomfortable by Fang Hong's domineering style—after all, he's only 22, born in '89, and hasn't yet been tempered by society.

But 7 million is already a huge sum for him; this money can change the living conditions of him and his partners.

He asked weakly: "President Fang, then how will you arrange things for me and my partners?"

That is, the three founders.

"You continue as CEO, the three of you continue to execute Bilibili's development, but the overall development direction must be controlled by me." Fang Hong said.

Xu Yi and the three founders are essentially tech geeks at heart—they just turned their hobby into a career.

They just need to keep carrying forward their interests.

Many successful people are driven by interest.

Of course Fang Hong isn't—he's after future "traffic"—but he knows how Bilibili should develop, how it should be positioned.

"Good, with President Fang's word, I'm relieved." Xu Yi agreed—in other words, both the position and the money were all given to him.

What they lacked most was money; being able to escape their current predicament was enough.

As for shares, they're only worth something once it develops; if it doesn't develop, they're garbage.

"After you go back, discuss with your partners, move the headquarters to Beijing, change the working environment. Initially I'll inject 10 million; this money is for improving the operating environment, and there will be more capital injections later."

Fang Hong paused here: "Also, the name Bilibili doesn't sound good—change it to Bilibili (Little Broken Site)!"

This 10 million is for Bilibili's operations—network equipment, talent recruitment, technical development, etc. —development certainly won't stop at just this much money.

But it can't be done in one stroke; first lay the foundation of the current stage well, then talk.

Xu Yi had no objections—where did they have a headquarters? It was just in a shabby rental house in Hangzhou.

Coming to Beijing for a better environment was of course even better!

As for Bilibili being changed to Bilibili (Little Broken Site), the names are pretty much the same!

There was no obstacle to this—a few young people, how could they resist the temptation of money, and the Principal's kingly aura.

Easily recruited!

But this bit of money Fang Hong can still come up with—currently "Beijing Meets Seattle" has already been in theaters for half a month, with box office over 320 million.

The box office shows no sign of decline, it's been stable the whole way, still fluctuating at ten to twenty million, sometimes spiking to thirty million on weekends.

This is by far the most resilient box office film.

No other reason—girls love watching it, white-collar workers love watching it! During this period Fang Hong's job has just been constantly spending money—that is, laying the foundation well.

After laying the foundation well, it's using money to build a beautiful skyscraper.

Where does the money come from? Still from the United States.

(End of chapter)