Bai Lu got scammed, but I became a superstar through e-commerce.

In the two weeks that followed, Bai Lu seemed like a completely different person.

Bai Mengyan used to love sleeping in late and staying in bed. She would set seven alarms to get up for an 8 a.m. shoot.

I wake up at five o'clock now, not by alarm clock, but by jumping up on my own.

Put on makeup, change clothes, and go out.

In Hangzhou in September, the sun is still scorching.

She was taking photos of autumn clothes by West Lake wearing a sweater, her forehead covered in sweat. As soon as the photographer yelled "cut," she took off her coat and gasped for breath.

Then I ran to the public restroom next door and changed into another set of clothes.

Sweater to shirt, shirt to cardigan, cardigan to sweatshirt, sweatshirt to coat.

In one morning, I changed more than forty outfits.

I didn't eat lunch.

Because there's a photo shoot for a picture album in Binjiang at 1 PM, and it takes 40 minutes by bus from West Lake to Binjiang.

She ate a steamed bun on the bus, replying to messages in a QQ group on her phone while eating, and then fell asleep leaning against the window.

After waking up, I continued replying to messages.

Her phone contains all the groups that accept orders.

There are over a dozen groups, including Hangzhou Taobao model groups, Sijiqing market stall display groups, Binjiang photography studio announcement groups, and Xiasha e-commerce base order-taking groups, each with hundreds of members.

Every day, messages flood the group chat like a torrent, new orders are thrown in, and whoever replies and closes a deal first gets the credit.

Bai Lu's typing speed has improved dramatically in the past two weeks.

She also sent her model portfolio to all the model resource companies, big and small, in Hangzhou.

She made the model cards herself, using Photoshop to stitch together several photos, writing down her height, weight, bust, waist, hip measurements, and contact information, and printed out a thick stack of them.

Some companies accepted the offer and said, "We'll contact you if we have a suitable order."

Some companies glanced at it and then tossed it aside.

She ignored it and kept sending messages.

That afternoon, after we finished shooting the photo album in Binjiang, it was already four o'clock.

Just when she thought she could finally catch her breath, another message popped up in the QQ group: "Sijiqing urgently needs hanging model, from 5 pm to 8 pm, paid by the piece, 20 yuan per piece, daily settlement."

The so-called "hanging board" refers to the way stall owners display new clothes on the wall, requiring a live model to wear them for photos so that customers can see how they look on.

The conditions were as rudimentary as could be.

Right in the corridor outside the stall, there was a clothes rack and a photography light. There wasn't even a changing room; it was just covered by a curtain.

Twenty yuan per piece.

Bai Lu calculated that if he worked quickly, he could shoot forty or fifty items in three hours, which would be between eight hundred and one thousand yuan.

She replied with one word: I'll take it.

Taking a taxi from Binjiang to Sijiqing is too expensive, and taking the bus requires two transfers. She took the bus and arrived at five minutes to five o'clock.

The stall owner was a middle-aged woman in her forties with curly hair, speaking in a Hangzhou-accented Mandarin: "Young lady, time is money, let's get started."

Bai Lu put down her bag, walked behind the curtain, and began to change into her first set of clothes.

During those three hours, she changed her clothes more than sixty times.

Sweaters, cardigans, dresses, trench coats, and cotton-padded jackets.

Each piece of clothing, once worn, is displayed in front of the white wall, showing one image from the front, one from the side, and one from the back.

After the shoot, I immediately went back to change into the next outfit.

The photographer's shutter clicked like a machine gun, and the expression on her face went from a smile to stiffness, and then to numbness.

When she changed into her thirtieth or so clothes, a red mark was left under her arm from the clothing tag.

By the time I changed into my fiftieth outfit, my shoulders were so stiff from maintaining the same posture for so long that I couldn't lift them.

She didn't stop.

At 8 PM, we finished shooting the last piece.

The stall owner counted the items: sixty-three pieces, totaling one thousand two hundred and sixty, and paid in cash on the spot.

Bai Lu stood in the corridor of Sijiqing, clutching the wad of cash.

The surrounding stalls were closing one after another, the roller shutters were being pulled down with a clatter, and carts carrying goods were coming and going.

She looked down at her hands. Her fingernails were full of clothing fibers, and her fingers were red from being rubbed raw by different fabrics.

One thousand two hundred and sixty.

Adding the 300 yuan she earned from Taobao photography in the morning and the 400 yuan she earned from catalogs in the afternoon, she earned 1,960 yuan that day.

Clutching the money, she walked out of Sijiqing.

On the bus ride home, she sent Qingxiao a message: "I earned 1,900 today, one step closer to paying off my debts."

Qingxiao replied quickly: "How many orders?"

"Three. Taobao in the morning, catalogs in the afternoon, and wall hangings at Sijiqing in the evening."

"Hanging board? That thing is incredibly tiring to work with, how are you going to connect it?"

"I'm desperate for money. Each item costs twenty, so I ordered sixty-three."

Qingxiao did not reply.

Two minutes later, the message arrived.

Have you eaten?

Bai Lu looked at these two words and suddenly felt a lump in his throat.

"have eaten."

"to be honest."

"...I ate a steamed bun this morning."

"Bai, Meng, Yan."

"I know. Don't say anything more. I'll eat well tomorrow."

After sending the message, she put her phone back in her pocket and leaned against the bus window.

The city of Hangzhou outside the window is brightly lit, and the lights recede one by one into the distance.

Her stomach started to ache slightly. She had been hungry all day and had only eaten one steamed bun, so her stomach was already protesting.

But she didn't think anything of it.

She had no way out.

When the bus arrived at its stop, she got off and walked back to her rented room. As she passed Qingxiao's farmer's house, she glanced at the window; the light was still on.

Bai Lu didn't go in; he went straight back to his own place.

That night, after she took a shower, she sat on the bed and did the accounting.

If we keep working this hard, we can replace the important accounts in about a month.

She closed the ledger, hoping that tomorrow would be just as smooth as today, with orders coming in easily.

If you can't get any orders, there's nowhere to earn money even if you work your ass off.

Bai Lu instant noodles, using her phone like a radar, searched various groups for orders. She also started contacting previous clients to inquire about orders or to help them refer others to her business.

Qingxiao saw all of this.

Once, Bai Lu came to the store to help fold clothes. While folding, he fell asleep leaning against a pile of express deliveries, still clutching an unfinished shirt in his hand.

Qingxiao took the shirt from her hand, covered her with a coat she was about to leave in, turned the computer volume down to the lowest setting, and continued working.

He didn't say anything to comfort him.

Because he knew that at this moment, any words would be inadequate.

If you're 50,000 yuan in debt, telling her not to work too hard is just talking without understanding the situation.

Why worry?

Only by getting rich quick.

There is only one way.

Take out the money and pay off the debt.

She will naturally catch her breath.

As a result, Qingxiao's store operations became even more urgent.

He opened the business advisor app.

Four months after opening the store, this is the page Qingxiao is most familiar with.

Real-time homepage data: 1,198 visitors, a significant increase from last month. For a new store with no promotional budget, this isn't bad.

But Qingxiao knew that with this growth rate, it wouldn't be enough to help Bailu pay off his 42,000 yuan debt within a month.

He needs a blockbuster product.

Qingxiao opened the "Product Performance" module and began analyzing the data of the existing styles one by one.

He knows better than anyone that whether a product can become a hit depends on three key metrics.