Chapter Five: The Fisherman

As these words fell, the meeting room suddenly went quiet, with all eyes turning toward Kong Decheng.

It was simple: he was the site’s primary investor and the only true "wealthy man" among the senior leadership, with a net worth in the millions. The remaining shareholders were nothing more than internet literature enthusiasts; without Kong Decheng’s investment in Huanjian, they might still be working at some company for one or two thousand yuan a month.

Therefore, Kong Decheng was the ultimate decision-maker for Huanjian. If he disagreed or refused to open his wallet, Huanjian could not provide any financial incentives to its authors.

"Impossible!"

Kong Decheng shook his head without hesitation. "Rizhao, you know as well as I do how many writers the site has. Aside from the very few who can get published in the traditional print market, the rest bring no direct profit to the site. Even that print market slice of the pie is tiny, and most of it is controlled by Longkong. If we start issuing financial rewards to writers, even at just a hundred yuan per person per month, it would be a staggering expense!"

Kong Decheng’s point was not without merit. Huanjian had thousands of writers. Even setting aside the hundred-yuan figure, at just ten yuan a month, it would cost hundreds of thousands a year.

Since Huanjian’s inception, the initial investment plus annual operating and maintenance costs had totaled less than four hundred thousand. Now, to cough up hundreds of thousands a year just to pay writers? It was unthinkable in the entire web novel industry. Huanjian wouldn’t do it, Qidian wouldn’t do it, and no other site would either.

"The audience for web novels is small, and the future prospects are quite limited. We aren’t like Alibaba or Baidu, capable of securing tens of millions of dollars in financing at the drop of a hat. We simply don’t have the capital to burn," Kong Decheng said.

Rizhao and Brother Ting exchanged a helpless look and shook their heads. General Manager Kong was a textbook investor; his purpose in investing in Huanjian was to inflate the site’s traffic to a certain benchmark in a short time and then sell it off for a profit. He had no interest in growing the web novel industry itself. Once expenditures exceeded his expectations, he would simply cease funding.

Rizhao, Brother Ting, and the other executives had gathered because of a genuine passion for the web novel industry. Rizhao, in particular, was responsible for managing the site and held great confidence in the industry's future.

But the problem remained: they could not persuade Mr. Kong.

In all honesty, they themselves were unsure about investing hundreds of thousands a year to reward authors. If they couldn't find a buyer after a few years and the site failed to develop new revenue streams, Huanjian would go bankrupt.

"If..." Rizhao hesitated for a long time before tentatively asking, "What if we charged the readers?"

The room exploded in an uproar.

In the world of internet economics, free was king. In 2002, let alone web novels, the vast majority of public internet services were free. Yahoo Mail and several well-known domestic sites had attempted subscription models, only to face disastrous failure.

There was a consensus in the internet industry: only two types of sites could survive on fees. The first were those like Alibaba, providing vast amounts of professional business information; the second were online games.

As for charging for web novels? It was unthinkable!

Kong Decheng’s stance was even more resolute: "Absolutely impossible! Charging readers is an act of self-mutilation; it would shake the very foundations of Huanjian! The internet is rife with piracy. The moment we charge, readers will just flock to other sites. What use would those writers be then? Besides, web novel readers are just kids—what money could they possibly have?!"

"But Mr. Kong, we can’t just sit idly by, can we?" Brother Ting asked.

"Of course not," Kong Decheng replied. "You’re the tech expert—launch a counter-offensive against them! What is the most important thing for a website? User experience! If Qidian’s servers are unstable and crash every few days, how can they compete with us?"

"The other side definitely has their own tech team. A direct clash will just result in mutual destruction," Brother Ting countered.

"We have an inherent advantage! Our reader base is more than ten times that of Qidian. Even if we both lose readers, we can afford the attrition, and Qidian cannot. Once we crush them, the readers will naturally return to Huanjian."

...

Yu Zhe did not know the details, but he told Zhao Zejun that Huanjian viewed Qidian as a genuine threat and held them in utter contempt.

Upon hearing this news, Zhao Zejun was relieved he had skipped military training. Half a month was not long, but while two tigers were locked in battle, every day he gained felt extraordinarily precious.

He immediately found Song Yun and laid out three requirements for the project team.

First, speed! Complete all modules and testing for the site as soon as possible!

Second, quality! Both the user experience and server performance had to withstand the test.

He certainly did not know the content of the Huanjian leadership meeting, but in the struggles between internet companies, technical prowess always came first. Zhao Zejun did not want to expend great effort building a site and attracting a crowd only to have it hacked the moment it went live.

Fast and good—the two were naturally contradictory. There was only one way to resolve this.

Zhao Zejun pulled out another one hundred thousand yuan.

The pile of cash, sitting directly in the laboratory, was visually shocking to the average college student.

Song Yun and the project team were stunned.

Novels often describe someone’s shock by saying their "mouths hung open." That was exactly the scene before them. As Zhao Zejun pulled stack after stack from his bag and laid them neatly before the team, they fell into a dead silence, everyone’s mouth agape.

Just how rich was this Boss Zhao, this junior student? He blinked neither an eye as he threw down fifty thousand, then another hundred thousand... He was just developing a website, yet he had already invested a total of one hundred and fifty thousand yuan. Was he aiming for the scale of a domestic web portal?

The money, of course, did not come for free. It was to be used not only for incentives and hiring new blood, but Zhao Zejun had even considered the first batch of editors.

After the site went live, these members of the development team would serve as the first maintenance crew and part-time editors. In the early stages, the site did not require editors with highly professional eyes; they only needed to perform simple operations in the backend. Their primary energy would be spent on maintaining the site, answering questions from authors and readers, and teaching them how to use the various features specifically developed for them.

"My requirement is that the site must go live by September 20th at the latest! If the site does not experience any downtime exceeding three hours within the first six months, there will be a bonus for everyone."