Rebirth Starting as a Stock Market Enthusiast

Chapter 153 Online Traffic? Worthless!

Aunt Lan has been helping Chen Xi with her videos a lot lately, especially with things like laundry and cooking. Chen Xi really doesn't have any talent for it, so Aunt Lan had to reshoot a lot of the footage.

Aunt Lan looked at Chen Xi, who was covered in soot in front of the stove, and felt both sorry for her and amused. She walked over and naturally took the fire tongs from Chen Xi's hand.

"I'll do it. Go wash your face, you look like a little kitten." Aunt Lan's voice was gentle. She skillfully rekindled the fire in the stove in a few quick movements, and the flames steadily licked the bottom of the pot.

Chen Xi gave a somewhat dejected "Oh" and obediently walked to the well in the yard.

The cool well water splashed on her face, taking away the smoky smell from the stove and calming her chaotic thoughts a little.

She looked at her blurry reflection in the basin. She was wearing a light blue ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), which made her skin look as white as snow. However, there was still a bit of black ash on the tip of her nose, which added a touch of worldliness to her appearance.

Is it worth suffering so much for that kid named Shen Fei?

Grandma didn't ask. She just felt that it was good enough if her granddaughter could take off all her armor and become a girl who could laugh, make noise, and feel annoyed when she couldn't cook well.

This is much better than winning one business war after another in the world of fame and fortune that is Shanghai.

Soon, Aunt Lan came out of the kitchen carrying two dishes and a soup.

A plate of steamed sea bass, its flesh snow-white. A plate of vibrant green stir-fried vegetables, crisp and refreshing. In the center is a bowl of milky white fish head and tofu soup.

On the dining table, there was a plate of flat, black stuff.

That's Chen Xi's "masterpiece" today —

Stir-fried shredded potatoes with vinegar—oh no, I mean stir-fried chunks of potatoes with vinegar, but the burnt version.

"Grandma, Aunt Lan, dinner's ready." Chen Xi served rice to the two of them, then picked up a piece of the dark potato chunks from the plate and put it in her mouth.

It was sour and bitter, with a burnt smell.

She couldn't help but frown.

Aunt Lan smiled, picked up a piece, put it in her mouth, chewed it carefully, and then said, "You've improved; at least you didn't put too much salt in this time."

Grandma happily picked up a piece and commented, "Hmm, it's a little overcooked, but the sourness is just right, perfect with rice."

"Grandma, Aunt Lan, I've made up my mind."

Chen Xi put down her chopsticks, her eyes shining.

"I want to build an intangible cultural heritage studio here."

Aunt Lan was taken aback: "Not going to Shanghai?"

"I'm not going."

Chen Xi shook her head, a calm smile on her lips.

Grandma's smile deepened. She put down her chopsticks, picked up the warm rice wine beside her, and poured herself a small cup.

"OK."

The old lady's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a comforting power.

"Do whatever you want. Don't worry about your dad, Grandma will support you."

Aunt Lan, however, was anxious. She slammed her chopsticks on the table, her voice filled with worry: "Xixi, have you lost your mind? The studio? Here? What about your company in Shanghai? What about that shop in Chengdu? We poured real money into that!"

"Aunt Lan, don't worry." Chen Xi picked up a piece of steamed sea bass with her chopsticks and put it into Aunt Lan's bowl. Her bright peach blossom eyes were as calm as a deep pool at this moment.

"The company in Shanghai was just an empty shell, created to impress my dad. Now that he's pulled the rug out from under me, it gives me a perfect excuse to completely distance myself from the situation."

She paused, then said, "As for the shop in Chengdu, it doesn't conflict with the studio here at all; on the contrary, it's the most important part of my plan."

Aunt Lan was still puzzled: "How can these two be connected? One is in the water towns of Jiangnan, and the other is in the bustling city of the southwest."

"Of course we can get in touch."

A confident smile curved Chen Xi's lips, an expression Aunt Lan had only seen before when she decided to create the "Xi Lan" brand.

"I built this studio not to retreat to the countryside, but to create the core of an IP."

IP?

Aunt Lan was unfamiliar with this word.

Chen Xi patiently explained, "Just like Shen Fei made Song Ting and Zhou Yun famous, he gave each of them a clear label. Song Ting is a healing-type kindergarten teacher," Zhou Yun is a contrasting traditional Chinese tea ceremony master, and I am an inheritor of intangible cultural heritage."

"My videos and my account are the online carriers of this IP address."

The studio is the physical entity behind this IP.

The Hanfu shop on Chunxi Road in Chengdu was the channel through which this IP ultimately achieved commercial monetization.

She looked at Aunt Lan, who was dumbfounded, and spoke each word clearly and logically.

"Online, we attract nationwide traffic through video content, converting the personal popularity of the 'Breakup Girl' into attention to 'intangible cultural heritage embroidery' and 'traditional Hanfu.' Offline, our store in Chengdu handles this traffic, turning fans into customers. Our studio here is the soul and foundation of our products, ensuring that every piece of clothing has a unique story and reflects meticulous craftsmanship."

These words stunned Aunt Lan and Grandma.

They assumed Chen Xi was tired and wanted to find a place to rest.

Who would have thought that behind this seemingly escapist decision lies such a grand and complete business loop!

This is no longer just about opening a store to sell clothes.

This is using internet thinking to play a grand game!

"Xixi—did that kid Shen Fei teach you all of this?" Grandma held her wine glass, her eyes gleaming with an unusual light.

"Fifty-fifty," Chen Xi said frankly. "He showed me another path. A path where you can get things done without having to drink and toast at the dinner table or curry favor with those bloated distributors."

She stood up, walked to the center of the courtyard, and looked up at the bright moon in the sky.

"Dad always says I'm naive, that building a brand is like children playing house, and that I'm nothing without the Chen family's resources."

Her voice was soft, yet it carried an unprecedented firmness.

"Then I will use the methods he despises the most, on this land he looks down on the most, to create something that truly belongs to me."

Grandma watched her granddaughter's retreating figure, nodded slowly, and drank the yellow wine in her cup in one gulp.

This girl has really grown up.

The top floor of the Jin Mao Tower in Shanghai.

The study was dimly lit, except for the cold light from a high-end monitor on the desk, which illuminated Chen Hanyuan's gloomy face.

On the screen, the video of the "breakup girl" is playing on a loop.

Crimson clothes are brighter than fire, and the remaining snow is like silver.

With a "click".

Chen Hanyuan lit a cigar, took a deep drag, and thick smoke billowed into the air.

As a seasoned veteran who had been navigating the Shanghai business world for decades, he never even considered the melodramatic scenario of his daughter's heartbreak.

"Is this the kind of sympathy-seeking hype you want to achieve? It's laughable..."

""