Rebirth 04: Starting from Taking an Unconventional Approach

"A conversion rate of 10.2%," Zhou Ming said, "is the first batch of test data from the official number pool. President Han, the significance of this number may be greater than you imagine."

"Zhou, are you saying that this number means more to headquarters than just validating our model; it also validates the value of the conventional military approach?"

"That's right. Although the headquarters leadership has decided to support you, they must still have some doubts. Is the success of this small publishing house due to those gray-market phone numbers? Will it not work in a more legitimate environment? This data can dispel their doubts."

"The key is that the system has stabilized," Lin Feng said, pointing to the load curve on the screen. "The cache hit rate is 91%, and the database response time is less than 100 milliseconds. Even if we push out all 200 million records now, we can handle it."

"Brother Fei," Wen Jie said, "I felt confident when it was at 6.5%, and now that it's broken 10%, shouldn't we strike while the iron is hot and release those 200 million messages in batches tonight?"

Han Fei shook his head: "No rush. The data is stable, but we need to figure out how to play this card."

Lin Feng stretched and yawned: "So, what's the next step? Continue testing, or just scale it up?"

"I think we can take a two-step approach," Han Fei said. "Tonight, we'll push out 30 messages and see if the conversion rate of these overnight users can be maintained. If the data is still this good tomorrow morning, we'll push out the rest during the day tomorrow."

Wang Zhe looked up from his bowl of noodles: "President Han's idea is good. 30 numbers, push notifications in batches, monitor the load, and observe the conversion rate curve."

"Okay, then it's settled." Han Fei said.

"Okay, start pushing after I finish eating. One minute," Wang Zhe said, stuffing another large mouthful of noodles into his mouth.

Han Fei lit a cigarette and glanced at Zhang Ruiyi. She was resting her chin on her hands, with a half-eaten bowl of mixed noodles in front of her.

"Are you full?" Han Fei asked.

"Hmm," Zhang Ruiyi said, "Do you think Boss Zhou will be a little disappointed if he knew how smoothly we're using the official number pool? Was he even a little reluctant to let it go today?"

"What's there to be disappointed about? I just delivered an even bigger deal to him this morning."

"What kind of business?"

"Let him be the head of the Qingniao Township Liaison Station. In the future, he won't have to worry about getting phone numbers, and he can also make a living from our magazine and active subscriptions."

"Brother Fei, your plan is moving way too fast!" Wen Jie sat in front of the computer screen without turning his head. "You just got the official number pool and you're already accelerating the expansion of offline channels?"

"We have to be quick," Han Fei said. "Those guys at Tencent aren't stupid. We have to seize every position we can before they realize what's happening. You guys have the technology, the editorial department has the content, and Boss Zhou has the distribution channels. Only by advancing on all three fronts can we make the most of the time window."

"President Han, don't worry about the technology," Wang Zhe wiped his mouth, the soup bowl in front of him now empty. "The green channel is running smoothly, and the system has been reinforced. Next, it's up to you to see how fast your content and distribution channels can run."

Han Fei nodded and stood up: "Let's begin. After the push is finished, everyone go back and rest. We'll look at the data again tomorrow morning."

"Okay," everyone responded in unison.

Han Fei and Zhang Ruiyi came out of the conference room and saw Lu Hai standing at the door of Han Fei's office, shaking his leg.

"Why haven't you gone back yet?" Han Fei asked.

Lu Hai turned to them and said, "President, the deadline for our novel competition has arrived, and someone in the authors' group is asking about it."

Han Fei took a breath and pulled out his phone to check the date. August 12th. The deadline for the New Rural Fiction Contest had passed by a day. He scratched his chin: "I almost forgot about it. Has everyone else left?"

"Not yet," Lu Hai said. "We selected the top twenty manuscripts based on your previous scores and reviewed them again."

Han Fei nodded: "Let's go to the office."

It was nearly 9 p.m., and everyone in the editorial department, including Zheng Xiaowen, was present.

"President," Zhang Meimei said, handing a stack of manuscripts to Han Fei, "these are the manuscripts we reviewed. Please take a look."

Han Fei took it and started flipping through it.

First Place: "Borrowing Seeds" - Final Review Score: 92. Reviewer's Comments: The ending has been strengthened as requested by the editor-in-chief, achieving full marks for impact.

Fourth place: "The Door My Brother Closed" received a final score of 88. Review comments: The suspense at the beginning was further strengthened, the psychological description in the third paragraph of the original text was deleted, and the pacing was made more compact.

Nineteenth place: "Living as a Widow" - Final score 80 points. Review comments: The writing is rough but highly distinctive, preserving the original flavor, with only minor adjustments to some dialect annotations.

"Sure," Han Fei said. "Are there any award-winning authors who haven't signed a contract yet?"

"There's one, a wild grass that wrote 'Living as a Widow'," Lu Hai said.

"Do you know why?"

"I asked him before," Lu Hai sighed. "He said... he only graduated from junior high school and doesn't have much education. He was afraid that if he signed the contract, he wouldn't be able to write it properly and would be letting the money go to waste."

Zhou Tao interjected, "Actually, the kind of writing style that Wild Grass can't be taught in academia. That rough texture, that tenacity honed by life, can't be developed by sitting in a library. The style we're doing now needs this kind of author."

"Yes, Zhou Tao is right," Han Fei said. "This author said he only graduated from junior high school and is afraid he can't write it. It's not that he doesn't want to sign, but that he feels unworthy. We can't solve this kind of mentality by sitting in the office handing out contracts. I'll talk to him in person when I meet him."

Sun Yue cleared her throat and hesitantly raised one hand.

"Sun Yue, is there anything you want to say?" Han Fei asked.

Sun Yue swallowed, took a sip of water from the cup in front of her, coughed, and stared at the table: "I also have a few authors on my side, their situations are similar to Wild Grass's... If there's a chance, could we go and talk to them too?"

Han Fei smiled slightly: "Okay, once you've collected one of their manuscripts, if it's suitable, we'll make arrangements." Seeing that Sun Yue was still staring at the table, he added, "The three authors you brought who have already signed contracts are quite good."

Sun Yue nodded and coughed a few more times.

"Alright," Han Fei said. "Teacher Zheng will be in charge of designing the certificates tomorrow. We don't have that much money or time, so we won't make any fancy certificates. Those cost tens of yuan each, and over a thousand yuan for twenty, which isn't worth the money right now. Besides, since it's a new rural novel, the characters are all ordinary people like Lao Huai and Ye Cao, so anything too expensive wouldn't fit the vibe. Certificates are more down-to-earth; we can stick them on the wall or under a glass plate. That's more practical than any velvet or silver foil stamping."

Everyone laughed.