Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

The hot pot was still bubbling and steaming.

Wen Jie sat and listened as Han Fei explained the feasibility of using SP to promote novels, and also talked about the future development potential of this model.

"There are over 300 million mobile phone users in China, sending an average of 800 million text messages every day," Han Fei said, lighting a cigarette. "What if just one percent of them were willing to spend 10 yuan a month to read stories?"

Wen Jie did some mental calculations and couldn't help but feel a chill.

"But the content of the novel has to be engaging enough," Wen Jie said.

Han Fei chuckled, "I own a publishing house. Do you really think I can't handle this?"

Wen Jie took a breath, seemingly intending to say something, but then stopped, staring blankly at Han Fei for a while before taking another breath.

"If I join," he heard himself ask, "can I decide on the technical architecture? Can it be built the way I think is right?"

"You're the technical lead," Han Fei said firmly, "while I'm just an outsider. As long as the website is secure, stable, and scalable enough, how to implement it is up to you. I just hope you don't treat it like a temporary project. You should build it like a Suzhou garden, with a structured approach to how the artificial hills are built, how the water flows, and how the views are framed, so that it can withstand a hundred years of wind and rain."

Wen Jie nodded, picked up his glass, took a sip of his drink, and pondered what other options he might have. He didn't think for long. For him, this was the best choice.

"What about my salary? I have a mortgage to pay."

Han Fei stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, stood up, and paced back and forth in the private room. Each time his rubber shoes left the floor, they made a soft squeaking sound.

"Monthly salary of 3000 yuan, plus 1% of the net profit."

"3000 yuan? That's too little!"

"Isn't there a revenue share?" Han Fei stopped in his tracks. "Even with only 5 paying users, that's 50 yuan in revenue per month. After deducting channel and operating costs, how much is your 1%? What, you don't have confidence in the program you wrote?"

Wen Jie hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

He stared at Han Fei, then his gaze shifted to the Land Rover keys on the table. He thought to himself, "This guy's got money; he wouldn't stoop so low as to rip off a poor programmer like me." Besides, even if he didn't take the project, with Han Fei's financial resources, where couldn't he find a programmer?

"Deal!" Wen Jie finally looked up and asked, "Where do you work?"

Do you have your own computer?

"Of course! Can a monkey without its golden cudgel be called Sun Wukong?"

Han Fei returned to his seat, picked up cigarettes and car keys from the table: "Let's go, I'll take you home to rest first. I'll pick you up at 8 a.m. tomorrow."

......

After dropping Wen Jie off at home, Han Fei drove to the Chuangzhi Commercial Building in the city center.

It took him three days to finally spot a down-on-his-luck programmer who had resigned from NetEase at the company's entrance.

The problem is that Zhang Meimei, the highest-paid editor in the publishing house, only earns 2000 yuan a month, not to mention that Han Fei has promised to delay paying her salary for three months.

If they knew that Han Fei had hired a programmer with a monthly salary of 3000 yuan and promised a share of the profits, he would probably have to give up halfway through his business.

Therefore, Wen Jie should absolutely not be allowed to work at the publishing house.

Chuangzhi Building is a mixed-use building housing shops, restaurants, and over a hundred companies of various types. From legitimate trading companies and law firms to tiny shell companies with only a single desk, they are scattered across Chuangzhi Building's three main buildings. Rent is calculated per square meter, per workstation, or even per day.

As long as you're willing to pay, you can eat, rest, and work all within the Innovation Building, without having to leave all day.

As Han Fei entered the Innovation and Intelligence Building, a cool breeze carrying the smells of floor wax and printed materials hit him.

After listening to Han Fei's request for a workstation, the woman in uniform at the front desk led him to a corridor.

A long line formed in front of the elevator, and they finally managed to squeeze on the third turn. The elevator was extremely small, creaking and vibrating.

The elevator stopped on the eighth floor.

The two stepped out of the elevator and into a long corridor. Offices on either side were separated by frosted glass, each with a nameplate displaying the name of a different company: a trading company, a consulting firm, or a trademark agency. At the end of the corridor was a common area.

They walked down the corridor, and the woman pushed open a glass door, leading to a large open space of about 200 square meters. Inside, four rows of workstations were neatly arranged, each separated by a light gray partition to ensure a certain degree of privacy.

Most of the seats were empty, with only a few people working. They were all young people, some typing on keyboards, others talking quietly on the phone, all very focused. I didn't even glance at them.

"The occupancy rate is currently around 30%, and it's quite quiet. That's the printing room over there..." the woman explained, pointing to the printer. "The copiers and printers inside are available for a fee; printing on A4 paper costs one cent per sheet. There are network ports under each table; just plug and play."

Han Fei walked to a seat by the window, where he saw several potted green plants on the windowsill, and the square sunlight shone on the wooden tabletop.

"How much?" Han Fei asked.

"30 yuan a day, 800 yuan a month."

"Are water, electricity, internet, and property management fees included?"

The woman paused for a moment, then said, "Uh, of course." She added a few dry laughs, making her even more embarrassed.

"These two will do," Han Fei said, pointing to two adjacent seats by the window. "Let's sign them for a month first."

"Okay, please follow me to the first floor to complete the formalities," the woman said, flashing a well-trained, professional smile.

Han Fei filled out a simple rental application form and paid 1600 yuan.

The woman handed over two access cards: "The office area is open from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. If you need to work overtime outside of opening hours, remember to inform the front desk in advance."

Han Fei reached out and took it, nodding.

As he walked out of the Innovation Building, dusk was beginning to spread through the city, and the surrounding lights were gradually coming on.

Han Fei returned to his car, put the contract and access card into his briefcase, but found that Wen Jie's cardboard box was still on the back seat, with a corner of the gold photo frame peeking out from the box opening.

Han Fei reached out and took out the photo frame, carefully examined the group photo, and then put it back.

Then he turned the key. The engine vibrations came through the steering wheel, solid and powerful.

Website, content, SP channels, mobile phone numbers... all the pieces of the puzzle are being put back together, one by one.

Next, we'll see how quickly Wen Jie can set up the website, and whether those "new rural" novels can actually earn him his first pot of gold with just a flick of his wrist.

The Land Rover merged into the evening rush hour traffic, bathed in the glow of streetlights.

Han Fei lowered the car window, letting the warm breeze caress his face and hair.

Dao Lang partied loudly through the loudspeakers of a street-side music store, his hoarse voice echoing in the air.