Chapter 20: 019 Debut

Guoaiwang’s parent company in Xiangjiang was officially registered, meaning they now had at least one formal identity.

Even Zhong Zhiling found it too immediate—school clubs that had been hesitant immediately confirmed their participation upon hearing the name Xiangjiang Company.

“Zhong Zhiling, how did you even find Xiangjiang Company?” asked Xiang Yaqian, vice president of the Skin Beauty Inspection Association, genuinely curious.

“I didn’t find them—they found us,” Zhong Zhiling replied seriously. “This is an activity with sociological research value, focused on college students’ romantic relationships. We even consulted our academic advisors—go ask Hong Junfeng from the School of Public Health if you don’t believe me.”

Over these three days, Zhong Zhiling had contacted three clubs and associations, with the Skin Beauty Inspection Association as his primary target, whose supervising body was the School of Public Health.

He had an excellent memory and deliberately sought out relevant “people” and applicable “systems,” casually mentioning an advisor from his own school who had indeed filled out the questionnaire.

Xiang Yaqian nodded, no longer hesitant, and smiled: “That’s good, but this company is a bit stingy—they won’t commit to sponsorship until we have orders.”

A 299-yuan order yields a 200-yuan cut.

That was the agreement between both sides.

“After all, it’s a commercial company, President Xiang,” Zhong Zhiling explained. “But this is still our own school. Other schools get 100 yuan—we’ve already fought hard for this. Besides, if we do well this time, securing sponsorship later will be easier.”

It’s already higher than other schools—and there will be next time.

With that, Vice President Xiang had nothing more to say.

The more Zhong Zhiling worked, the more he realized it wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined. President Xiang had been the toughest; the other two, the Youth Health Education Association and the Life Care Association, were far easier to deal with and had already agreed early on.

Thus, under the backdrop of the company’s successful registration, club activities at Nan Medical University began: the three associations rented a multimedia classroom and jointly invited couples from the school to a social event.

As sponsors, the three leaders of Guoaiwang showed up together, setting up a small booth inside the classroom to promote the romantic contract, framed as a sociological survey.

On Saturday morning, the event began, and couples gradually arrived at the classroom—roughly a hundred to two hundred in total.

The first segment wasn’t Guoaiwang’s debut—it was the Skin Beauty Inspection Association’s members giving a presentation on how women should protect their skin and use cosmetics.

Yu Xing observed the scene from the side. Indeed, as expected, the girls were attentive, while the guys were already half-asleep.

Once the cosmetics segment ended, Guoaiwang took the stage—its first official public appearance as a business.

“Classmates, hello, I’m your senior Yu Xing, a first-year graduate student.”

“We’ve been commissioned by Xiangjiang Company to conduct a social survey on campus, tasked with observing and tracking the probability that college couples will reach the altar.”

Yu Xing stood on stage, calm and composed, speaking with measured tone.

“What do you think—the probability for college couples in our country? How many will actually get married?”

The audience responded with guesses: 30%, 60%, half and half.

“Different people have different feelings—some say 30%, others 60%, that’s a two-fold difference,” Yu Xing pointed out the discrepancy and smiled. “Precisely because it’s so vague, we’ve accepted the commission to conduct a long-term tracking study.”

“All you need to do is sign up. Three years from now, we’ll revisit. If you get married, the company will gift you 999 roses—you can place them at home or at your wedding venue.”

Yu Xing revealed the company’s reward.

The couples below stirred slightly, and someone naturally asked: “Just sign up? Is it free?”

“Not free, but cheap—the registration fee is 299 yuan,” Yu Xing answered directly. “I asked the company myself: ‘Why not make it free? Why charge at all?’”

“They said, ‘We estimate at least half won’t make it to the end. The cost of 999 roses is already high. The 299 yuan is a gift from those who don’t make it to those who do.’”

“I asked again: ‘Even if it’s half and half, that still doesn’t cover costs—won’t the company lose money?’”

“They confirmed: yes, they’ll lose money.”

“I thought: good—that’s exactly right. You have to lose money for this to work.”

Yu Xing smiled calmly: “Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I was speaking in front of everyone—I just wanted this company to lose even more money, and to attract students who genuinely plan to marry.”

He emphasized: “It’s voluntary—completely voluntary. We’re experimenting, and inviting classmates to try it.”

A quiet buzz spread through the multimedia classroom. The activity was simple: pay 299 yuan, get 999 roses if you marry in three years, with the goal of studying the final marriage probability.

Two hundred ninety-nine yuan—less than half a month’s living allowance, even less if split between couples.

Most couples’ living allowances were higher; some wealthy students didn’t care about the amount and immediately shouted out their willingness to sign up, signaling their intent to marry their girlfriends.

But a few wealthy students’ impulsive purchases didn’t spark more orders.

“Don’t worry, don’t rush,” Yu Xing sensed Zhong Zhiling’s impatience. “We already have three orders.”

The social event continued: the three associations took turns presenting, couples performed duets on stage, and spontaneous proposals were organized—each proposal benefited the sponsor, pushing orders from three to four.

“Too few, too few,” Zhong Zhiling muttered. This wasn’t the enthusiasm he’d imagined.

“Don’t rush, don’t rush,” Yu Xing kept smiling, returning glances from all directions with his eyes.

As the morning event neared its end, the Skin Beauty Inspection Association began recommending cosmetics row by row.

“299 yuan to sign up, 999 roses if you marry—that sounds like a deal. But what if you guys disappear by the time we get married?” A nearby couple moved closer to ask.

“Guoaiwang is Xiangjiang Company—registered capital ten million yuan. Classmate, this is a sociological research activity, not just about money,” Yu Xing replied with a smile.

The young couple discussed it briefly, thought it was a great deal: 299 yuan for roses worth far more if they married—what a bargain!

Seeing the potential customer still undecided, Yu Xing changed tactics and asked casually: “Classmate, what’s your zodiac sign? Let me check if you’ll actually get those roses.”

“I’m Aries,” the girl perked up. “He’s Leo!”

“Oh my, Aries and Leo are a perfect match! Aries brings joy, Leo loves the spotlight and has a bit of ego—you complement each other. You’ll definitely get those roses—call us when you’re ready to claim them.” Yu Xing smiled. “No need to sign up if you don’t want to—but honestly, your zodiac signs are perfectly matched.”

The girl beamed and nodded: “Hehe, right? Then let’s do it.”

The Aries turned to ask the Leo’s opinion—the Leo had no objections.

Order +1.

This order seemed to open the floodgates, and Yu Xing found new inspiration in interacting with customers.

“Classmate, what’s your Chinese zodiac? You’re Ox, she’s Monkey—excellent match. You two clearly admire each other, right? You’ve got great chemistry.”

The Ox and Monkey nodded in agreement—order +1.

“Oh? You’re born in the third lunar month, she’s in the fifth—according to tradition, you’ll bring wealth after marriage. Excellent, excellent. Oh, he’s going into orthopedics? That’s wealth too.”

Wealth-bringing pair—order +1.

“Oh? Bad zodiac? Incompatible animal signs? Hey, I’m not criticizing you—we’re medical students, raised under the red flag. What era are we in now? Still believing in superstition? If you trust each other and work hard together, you’ll definitely be happy.”

Anti-superstition—order +1.

Zhong Zhiling and Lu Haiying stared in disbelief, watching their senior exhaust every possible method to engage customers, feeling as if he were putting on a flamboyant show.

But not all tactics worked.

Yu Xing observed the couples, preparing his lines—but before he could speak, the young couple began arguing themselves.

“Why won’t you buy it? Are you just waiting to break up with me after graduation? Do you even want to marry me?”

“Are you still thinking about that guy with the surname Fang?”

“What’s so great about him? What’s he got that’s so special?”

Yu Xing watched the arguing couple leave, shaking his head helplessly at the second and third in command: “Come, sit down. Let me have a sip of water—my throat’s dry.”

He looked at the short line that had formed since the door had been empty, blew on his tea leaves, took a satisfied sip—it was acceptable.