Chapter 31: 030 Joint Innovation

College students’ romantic states may be similar.

Or perhaps, in this hot June graduation season, everyone’s emotions are subtly complex—both looking forward to the future and fearing uncertainty.

As a result, when Yu Xing shared the sudden incident, two more breakup cases occurred over the next two days.

Some, like the earlier case, didn’t withdraw; others successfully canceled their orders.

Yu Xing could have stepped in as a comforting big brother each time, but he couldn’t be everywhere—he could only communicate this issue with Lu Haiying, Zhong Zhiling, and the group leaders.

“What do our customers really lack right now? Do you think they truly lack these 299 yuan?”

“What they lack is encouragement—psychological massage!”

Group leader Cui Jingwei couldn’t help raising his hand: “No one told us we’d have to give massages…”

Shouldn’t the massage fee be charged separately…

Yu Xing spread his hands: “If you don’t give them psychological massage, they’ll just dig into their own pockets and spend the money anyway—this counts as after-sales service, and it’s not much.”

Cui Jingwei had nothing to say.

“Customers at this time are highly emotional. I talked with Lu Haiying yesterday and tried to figure out an effective solution, but psychological massage from just us might not be enough.” Yu Xing said, “So if this happens again, we’ll help them process their emotions, while also asking them to write down their final words.”

“We still uphold our seven-day no-questions-asked refund policy—they can cancel if they want—but before they do, they must leave something behind. These emotions might move our untapped potential users.”

“For example…”

Yu Xing picked up a piece of chalk and wrote an example on the blackboard.

—You were my hero, but my courage ran short.

The eleven group leaders, plus two deputy generals and assistant generals seated in the multimedia classroom, paused after reading it, each sensing lingering depth.

Yu Xing continued writing, offering a second example.

—You were my summer, but autumn has come.

He pointed to both phrases and said, “College students love this tone. If our psychological massage doesn’t work and they still want to cancel, let them leave a single line—whether a reflection on love or a personal insight, something deeply emotional. These will become resources we use to expand our online business.”

The seven-day no-questions-asked refund policy is already public—we can’t refuse refunds—but we can still extract something else.

How can we further expand our online business?

This was what Yu Xing had carefully pondered over the past two days.

He thought left and right, and the answer still centered on our current customer base—college students.

And he also recalled a once-popular baijiu brand, “Jiang Xiao Bai,” whose key appeal lay in its beloved slogan-style copywriting.

What is this called?

It’s roughly brand culture building.

Jiang Xiao Bai eventually faded despite its slogans, but… Yu Xing thought even a brief surge of popularity would be enough—he didn’t need eternal success, just a moment of possession.

Who understands college students best?

College students understand college students best.

Heartbroken college students can move romantic college students even more deeply.

Yu Xing reached for the chalk again and wrote a third line as he spoke: “We can’t just use plain language—we need something more literary.”

—When the spring wind carries triumph, my horse gallops fast; only then do I realize the pain of parting.

Yu Xing stared at the slogans on the board, paused, then continued: “We also need foreign ones—like Shelley’s poetry.”

—I wish to be the torrent, the mountain stream, winding through rugged paths and over rocks—but you refuse to be the little fish in my waves, instead longing to rush toward the roaring sea.

Yu Xing put down the chalk and faced the deputy generals, assistant generals, and group leaders: “Understood? We need things that move college students. Our online business must have its own edge—it seems insignificant, but it might work wonders. This is called brand mental occupation.”

“Of course, I’m just giving random examples—everyone should think for themselves, and when similar situations arise, let college student poets help us come up with lines.”

The thirteen people below fell silent. Why did the senior’s casual examples feel so moving?

Yu Xing was about to speak further when his desk phone lit up—it was Song Yufeng, the NetEase reporter.

“Alright, second-in-command, take the floor.” Yu Xing picked up the phone and casually called out a name.

Zhong Zhiling’s foot twitched instinctively, but then he saw Lu Haiying had already stood up—he could only remain calm and stay seated.

Yu Xing stepped out of the classroom, answered the call, and smiled: “Hey, Brother Feng, you’re back in Shanghai?”

Song Yufeng was a reporter stationed in Shanghai, covering news in East China. His rank was low; he’d come to Jin Ling to find stories and happened to receive forwarded material from a colleague.

“Yeah, Yu Xing.” Song Yufeng’s tone was slightly hesitant; he cleared his throat. “I suddenly remembered a question I forgot to ask you.”

Yu Xing warmly said: “Ask away, Brother Feng, ask away.”

“It’s like this—I was writing about your company yesterday and thought of something. Uh, is your barrier to entry really that low?” Song Yufeng asked cautiously.

Yu Xing paused: “Hmm…”

His mind raced—what did the reporter’s question about entry barriers have to do with him? The interview and promised article were just a press release.

Seeing no immediate reply, Song Yufeng grew anxious.

In truth, he’d debated calling for half a day, but since he’d finally dialed, he wanted to give a meaningful warning.

Song Yufeng returned to Shanghai yesterday morning, and while eating lunch in the cafeteria, he naturally chatted with colleagues about his trip, mentioning “Gui Ai Wang” as a fresh project.

“I think this college student company won’t last a year,” Song Yufeng said while eating.

Just as he was about to shift topics, someone behind him asked:

“Can you elaborate? Sounds interesting.” The NetEase employee beside him introduced himself: “I’m Ying Jiadong from NetEase Local. Your project caught my attention.”

Song Yufeng turned and saw a middle-aged man.

He’d been at NetEase for just over a year; by age, this kind of face was likely a manager.

Song Yufeng saw nothing unusual and briefly described his interview with Gui Ai Wang.

“Is the barrier to entry really low?” Ying Jiadong asked.

“Yeah, isn’t it low?” Song Yufeng thought it was, but he had no deep understanding of business models, so he gave a vague answer.

“You said they did a college student dating survey—can I see it?” Ying Jiadong abandoned his meal and sat beside the young reporter.

Song Yufeng hesitated, then handed over his phone with the survey photos instead of printed materials.

Ying Jiadong studied it carefully, estimating the data’s impact. When he returned the phone, he said: “The barrier is indeed low—it’s easily replicable. If a big company takes this on, they could make it work too.”

He paused, then added: “The idea is still innovative. College students have fresh ideas—one willing to pay, one willing to be paid—and precisely because they go from campus to society without often marrying, their money-making method is genuinely novel!”

After his evaluation, Ying Jiadong asked his colleague: “Do you think their survey is serious?”

Song Yufeng suddenly felt uneasy. He carefully replied: “It seems sincere—I saw how earnest those students were. The founder has both vision and drive, and reportedly analyzed data from many universities.”

Ying Jiadong nodded, pursed his lips: “This project has merit.”

Song Yufeng looked at the middle-aged man and couldn’t help asking: “They’re targeting college students—can they really grow big?”

“Yes, targeting only college students won’t make them big—but if they expand into the broader market, the opportunity naturally grows.” Ying Jiadong smiled. “If this project actually makes money, big companies will jump in and crush their space quickly—because big companies have higher credibility.”

Song Yufeng grew more uneasy, forcing a smile: “How much could they even make? What company would bother with this niche? Tencent? They wouldn’t bother with such a tiny market.”

Ying Jiadong scoffed: “What doesn’t Tencent do? What’s left that Tencent won’t touch?”

He shook his head: “Ah, college student entrepreneurship is hard.”

Song Yufeng felt a slight relief—yes, it’s hard for them.

“Thanks. I’ll go file a request, do some research, see if we can do something,” Ying Jiadong patted the young reporter’s shoulder, thanked him, and stood up.

Song Yufeng was stunned, his shock unmasked: “Wait—we’re going to do this? College student entrepreneurship is hard…”

“Yes, college student entrepreneurship is hard,” Ying Jiadong agreed, then sighed, “But who isn’t struggling? Everyone finds it hard.”

Song Yufeng watched the man smile at him, then quickly leave the cafeteria.

He stood frozen, asking his colleague with no clear emotion: “Wait—who was that? What’s NetEase Local?”

Song Yufeng realized he had no memory of “NetEase Local.”

“Deputy director of Local,” the colleague replied. “He handles dating. The full name is ‘NetEase Local Dating Channel’—it’s been around for a while. I think two or three years? Maybe 2005 or 2006.”

Song Yufeng: “This… this… what’s he planning?”

“Didn’t he say it’s hard? Dating is an untapped area, but they can’t compete with Jiuyuan or Baihe—they have no visibility,” the colleague said while eating. “That’s why you’ve never heard of it, right? What else could he do? Probably just wants to learn.”

Song Yufeng was stunned.

Local Dating? Learn?

Learn… what…

Isn’t this exactly Tencent’s move?!

He wanted to say something but found himself speechless.

The next day, moved by the students’ sincerity, Song Yufeng felt guilty and called Yu Xing before work, hoping to give a gentle warning.

But when he reached the critical point, he got no answer, so after a pause he asked more directly: “Yu Xing, isn’t your project easily copied if a big company notices it?”

Since he’d asked, he went even straighter: “Yu Xing, if Tencent launched a project just like yours, what would you do?”

“Hmm, Brother Feng, you’ve asked a key question,” Yu Xing praised the NetEase reporter, though inside he grew more suspicious.

Why would a press release suddenly turn into a warning about big-company copying? There must be a reason.

Yu Xing smiled: “Big companies have resources and capital, but our niche is so small—would Tencent even notice? Other big companies aren’t as aggressive as Tencent. But Brother Feng, honestly, I’ve thought about this before.”

“Including when we sought media coverage—I carefully considered it, and ultimately called only NetEase.”

“I’ve long admired NetEase’s website. I truly respect your in-depth reports on social issues—you have integrity!”

“Brother Feng, I still thank you. When your report comes out, it’ll help us grow further. Then, whether it’s Tencent or some shameless copycat, we won’t fear!”

Yu Xing spoke with passionate conviction.

Song Yufeng felt an unexpected pang of guilt—how sincere these college students were…

This… this thing…

Sigh.

He let out a silent breath and reluctantly said: “Alright, alright, Yu Xing, I believe in you. Keep going. Oh, by the way—you said you opened a Taobao store? I’ll place a few orders later—uh, for friends.”

Jin Ling makes money in Jin Ling, and this money won’t be taken home.

Yu Xing cheerfully replied, “Feng Ge, no problem!”

The last thing Song Yufeng said before hanging up couldn’t help but warn the earnest college student: “Yu Xing, watch out for big companies—none of them are good!”

Yu Xing put away his phone. Hmm, what’s going on with NetEase?

He was almost certain the humble little reporter still had a conscience and had called specifically to give him a heads-up.

If a big company were to handle this, could they leverage the heated topic to boost their own revenue?

As Yu Xing considered this, Zhong Zhiling hurried out of the classroom as well.

“Xing Ge, Xing Ge, I told my family I’m working a summer job—I need to go to Lin’an, but they don’t believe me,” Zhong Zhiling whispered, holding the phone. “You’re the boss—help me explain to my mom.”

Yu Xing hesitated. “I can’t do that. I can lie to you, but I can’t lie to your parents.”

Zhong Zhiling pleaded urgently: “It’s a white lie! A white lie!”

Yu Xing reluctantly took the phone, stepped aside a few paces, and explained the situation to Zhong Zhiling’s family.

Zhong Zhiling exhaled, then suddenly felt something was off. Huh?

Huh? Huh??

Wait, you won’t lie to my parents—then don’t lie to me either!

I’m already pitiful enough!

Zhong Zhiling watched his senior pace back and forth, occasionally bursting into loud laughter, and figured things were probably fine…

A few minutes later, Yu Xing handed the phone back. “Alright, it’s settled.”

He added, “Call your professor next and explain the situation—get him to cover for you, so your parents won’t call again to verify.”

Zhong Zhiling immediately frowned. “How do I tell the professor? He almost expelled me last time.”

“Tell him our weekly performance,” Yu Xing said calmly. “Say your debt will be paid off soon, and then you’ll decide whether to keep studying. That’s all.”

Zhong Zhiling froze.

Yu Xing reminded him with his own words: “It’s a white lie.”

Zhong Zhiling stopped freezing.

“This is a minor issue,” Yu Xing said, taking two steps. “I’m going to Shanghai this Saturday.”

Zhong Zhiling was startled. “Xing Ge, why the change of plans?”

Yu Xing’s brow furrowed, then relaxed. He smiled. “Because we’re likely to run into more problems.”