Back to 17, My Brother is the Cult Leader

The number of chat logs about "Crazy Stone" on QQ is increasing exponentially every day, and related discussion posts on Rongshuxia have reached the top of the homepage.

Several people have written frame-by-frame analyses online, from analyzing Huang Bo's micro-expressions to the multi-narrative structure. The comments below are full of "watched it twice" and "watched it again with the whole family".

Piracy certainly occurred, but it did nothing to dampen the audience's enthusiasm for going to the cinema.

The experience of watching this kind of movie on the big screen is completely different from watching a pirated DVD in a rented room.

The seven-day Spring Festival holiday has ended, and "Crazy Stone" has grossed over 3000 million yuan in total, with daily box office revenue still rising.

The media began to use the term "dark horse" to describe it.

At the end of March, "Crazy Stone" was officially taken off the screens after a one-month extension.

The final box office figure was 7800 million.

With an investment of 600 million, the box office reached 7800 million, resulting in a return on investment of over five times.

The Shanghai Film Group's distribution team held a celebratory banquet, where General Manager Zhu raised a glass of wine on stage and delivered a passionate speech.

When Ning Hao took the microphone on stage, his arm was tense. He only said a few words before stepping down, and his speech was somewhat incoherent.

Fang Yuan looked at him from below: "Look at your pathetic self."

"Damn it, don't just stand there and talk like you don't know what's going on. You think everyone's like you?" Ning Hao was getting a little angry.

This time, Feng Xiaogang didn't say anything harsh.

A light drizzle was falling in Shanghai in April.

When Fang Yuan came out of Hongqiao Airport, the car sent by Zhu Weilian was already waiting outside the arrival gate.

The driver was a young man in his early twenties, holding up a handwritten sign for picking up passengers. The two characters "Fang Yuan" were written crookedly, clearly indicating that he had been hired at the last minute.

As the car drove through the Yan'an Elevated Road, raindrops pattered against the windows, blurring the surrounding buildings into a grayish-blue silhouette.

Fang Yuan leaned back in his chair, flipping through a document containing nearly two years of operating data for the Banyan Tree.

Before he arrived, he had already had the finance department conduct a round of due diligence. The user base of Rongshuxia was still growing, with over four million registered users and nearly one million daily active users, making it the undisputed leader in the niche field of literary websites.

However, the financial statements are not good – GG's revenue growth is sluggish, users' willingness to pay is almost zero, bandwidth costs are rising year by year, and it lost 1.2 million last year and has already lost 400,000 in the first three months of this year.

William Zhu was starting to feel the strain.

When Fang Yuan went upstairs, he noticed that some of the paint on the walls in the corridor had started to bubble, and one of the light tubes in the elevator lobby was flashing incessantly.

William Zhu stood at the office door waiting for him, wearing a slightly faded plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His face showed the weariness typical of entrepreneurs—his eyes were dark-rimmed, but his eyes were still bright.

"President Fang, we've finally been waiting for you." Zhu Weilian extended his hand and shook it tightly.

There was another person in the office.

Chen Cun sat on the sofa by the window, wearing a dark gray jacket, holding a cup of tea that had gone cold.

He was one of the earliest literary consultants at Rongshuxia and one of the website's key figures, having helped attract many well-known authors to join the site in the past two years.

When Fang Yuan entered, he stood up and nodded, his expression showing some fatigue and weariness.

The two were already quite familiar with each other.

Without much small talk, Zhu Weilian led the person directly to the conference room.

The whiteboard still bears traces of the last internal meeting's writing, with the words "Financing Plan B" and "GG revenue sharing" faintly discernible, though half of it has been erased.

"Mr. Fang, I'll be frank." Zhu Weilian sat across the conference table, his hands crossed on the table.

"Rongshuxia currently has no problem with its user base, with four million registered users and nearly one million daily active users. You can't find another one like it on the entire Chinese internet."

But the money is almost gone, and the cash flow can only last for another five months at most.

GG's clients don't value traffic from literary websites, and several rounds of e-commerce cooperation haven't materialized. We've tried paid reading, but the results weren't good. So far, our biggest revenue stream is this movie promotion collaboration with you.

Fang Yuan didn't respond, waiting for him to continue.

"I need a lot of money," William Zhu said. "Not a million or two, but a sum of money that can completely upgrade the business model of Rongshuxia."

I've seen the promotional efforts you put into "Crazy Stone"—QQ push notifications, homepage promotions on Rongshuxia, and internet marketing strategies. You really know your stuff.

There are many people in this industry who understand content creation, but few who understand the internet. And you're the only one I know who's proficient in both.

Fang Yuan placed the business data report on the table and looked at Zhu William: "How much do you want me to invest?"

William Zhu was silent for a moment, then announced a number: "Fifteen million US dollars."

This figure was absolutely astronomical in the Chinese internet community in 2002.

At the time, financing news indicated that several million US dollars was considered a large sum, and companies with over ten million US dollars were basically portal-level companies.

William Zhu had clearly thought many times about how to persuade Fang Yuan, and he immediately said:

"I'm relinquishing controlling stake. Seventy percent of the shares are yours, and the remaining thirty percent will be retained by me and the core team."

I'll still manage the company's daily operations, but you have the final say on major strategies.

Fang Yuan did not answer immediately.

He twirled the teacup in his hand, his gaze falling on the half-erased writing on the whiteboard.

William Zhu's terms were more straightforward than he had expected.

The fact that he directly relinquished controlling stake indicates that Rongshuxia's cash flow is even tighter than he previously estimated.

"Fifteen million US dollars, I can invest," Fang Yuan finally spoke, "but the operating model needs to be adjusted."

Chen Cun put down his teacup and leaned forward slightly, clearly more interested in this topic than in the distribution of shares.

Fang Yuan stood up, walked to the whiteboard, picked up a pen, erased all the remaining writing, and then wrote four words in the center: Free Reading.

"The paid route is not viable," Fang Yuan said, the pen tip making a crisp sound as it touched the whiteboard.

"It's not feasible right now, at least not."

Currently, the habit of paying for content on the Chinese internet is far from being established. If you insist on charging users, users will leave, and authors will follow the users, ultimately resulting in losses for both.

He wrote several keywords under "Free Reading": traffic, Google, IP.

"We maximize traffic by offering free services, and GG revenue covers part of the costs. The real profits come from copyright operations."

William Zhu frowned, clearly hesitant about this line of thought:

"If it's free, how will the author make money?"

"GG ​​revenue sharing." Fang Yuan drew a line between "traffic" and "GG."

"All works' pages will be integrated into the Google Play Store system, and Google Play fees will be shared with authors based on readership. Also—"

He then drew a heavy line under "IP".

"For long-running online novels, as long as the data is running, we can directly sign a copyright agency agreement."

Film and television adaptations, publishing, and games all generate revenue.

I can tell you right now that the most valuable thing in the future won't be Google Ads fees, it will be copyrights.

William Zhu did not respond immediately.