Chapter Eighteen: Development Plan
Currently, the website has surged into the top three domestically, ranking just behind Dragon Sword and Qidian, with only a slight gap separating it from Qidian. Although there are numerous smaller sites trailing behind, none of them—whether judged by business philosophy, foundation, or investment—can truly challenge the leading three.
The era of the three-way rivalry in the domestic online novel industry has arrived.
Dragon Sword remains the unrivaled leader, with the longest history, the deepest roots, and the largest base of readers and authors.
Qidian, backed by the National Fantasy Alliance’s resources and influence, had amassed a large following even before its establishment, and boasts a group of entrepreneurs passionate about and knowledgeable of online literature.
ZeRead, a comet-like newcomer, has risen swiftly.
ZeRead’s greatest asset is its founder, Zhao Zejun. Drawing from over a decade of lessons learned from Qidian’s development and blending them with the current landscape, Zhao’s strategic vision and deep understanding of online literature creation and industry growth far surpass those of the other two sites.
This means ZeRead will avoid detours and dead ends.
Moreover, financially, ZeRead might be the most robust of the three.
Both Qidian and the veteran Dragon Sword operate on a scale of mere millions, while Zhao Zejun, armed with over a million in cash, has boldly entered this industry of modest means, with ready access to funds from Zejian Corporation.
Unlike the other two, ZeRead operates under Zhao Zejun’s sole authority. Every strategic decision and financial allocation is free from any constraints, enabling a focused deployment of all energies and resources.
It’s not to say they can crush competitors simply by throwing money around, but presently, no website in the industry can match ZeRead’s financial firepower. Furthermore, ZeRead has already developed self-sustaining revenue through its tipping function.
“But please note, the tipping feature isn’t some profound technological breakthrough; it’s merely a concept, easily imitated. I expect other sites will soon rush to replicate it. If we rest on our laurels, relying on past achievements, surpassing Qidian or Dragon Sword—or even maintaining third place—may be beyond our grasp,” Zhao Zejun warned solemnly.
“Now, let me outline the company’s future plans.
“First and foremost, and as a short-term major goal, our focus will remain on attracting more authors to write at ZeRead. I have decided that all income from the site’s tipping feature—after covering daily operational costs—will be entirely allocated as author benefits.”
The room erupted in stunned murmurs.
Paying authors directly? That’s tantamount to giving all tipping income to the writers—or almost all, since some must go to taxes. This means the website, or rather Zhao Zejun himself, wouldn’t earn a single cent.
“Quiet, everyone. Listen to me,” Zhao raised his hand slightly, silencing the crowd. “It’s far too early to think about profits. ZeRead lacks Dragon Sword’s foundation and isn’t as influential or connected as Qidian. So, the only thing we truly have to offer is cold, hard cash. The site needs not only top-tier writers who can attract generous tips but also cannot ignore the mid- and lower-tier authors. Strictly speaking, the vast majority of mid- and low-level authors form the bedrock of a website, and future top authors emerge from this large pool.”
“Therefore, we must create income opportunities not just for the top authors but also ensure the welfare of the mid- and low-level writers. Song Yun, make a note and develop the corresponding website modules as soon as possible.”
This time, Zhao Zejun adapted Qidian’s attendance incentive system with slight modifications and implemented it.
Any author writing on ZeRead who produces original work for over twenty days per month, with a total word count exceeding 150,000, will receive a reward of three hundred yuan, termed the “Diligent Writing Award.”
“Mr. Zhao, with current tipping revenues, this might be insufficient after expenses. Could we reduce the amount? College students doing part-time work only earn four or five hundred yuan monthly. Three hundred yuan is quite a lot—it’s enough to live on if spent wisely,” interjected accountant Tong.
ZeRead’s library holds tens of thousands of books, with nearly a thousand actively updating. If each book were to receive three hundred yuan monthly, the total payouts would exceed two hundred thousand yuan—a significant sum. The tipping income alone wouldn’t cover this; Zhao Zejun would have to subsidize it himself.
Even with his wealth, sustaining monthly outlays of over a hundred thousand yuan would be challenging.
“You can’t calculate it that way,” Zhao explained. “Not every author will reach 150,000 words per month. On average, that requires writing five thousand words daily, which even after widespread VIP subscription adoption, many writers fail to achieve.”
“Moreover, the reward won’t be paid monthly but quarterly. Authors must maintain that pace for three consecutive months to qualify.”
This structure should ensure that the site’s tipping balance barely suffices to fund the award. If it falls short, Zhao will personally contribute, though within reasonable limits—not the extravagant sums Tong imagined.
Furthermore, without economic incentives, novel updates tend to be irregular, frustrating readers. If ZeRead fosters a cadre of writers who update steadily and rapidly, it will inevitably attract a loyal reader base.
This loyal readership, in turn, will generate more tipping income, boosting ZeRead’s share.
With this analysis, the picture becomes clear: the key lies in ZeRead’s emerging virtuous cycle.
“Mr. Zhao’s analysis is profound—no wonder everyone calls you the godfather of online novels,” Tong praised subtly.
Zhao smiled faintly. “There’s another benefit. Through attendance rewards, we can identify truly capable and persistent writers for further development. Three hundred yuan isn’t much, but as you said, it’s enough to survive. If an author shows promise, combined with reader tips, it can constitute a legitimate income, allowing talented writers to focus on their craft.”
His voice grew firmer. “We must not only attract authors but nurture them.”
Those words—“nurture authors”—might confuse others, but coming from Zhao Zejun, they felt natural. As ZeRead grew, more people recognized that several of its most famous novels were directly guided by Zhao himself.
Though ZeRead wasn’t the industry leader, Zhao’s title as the godfather of online literature was well deserved.
Yet only Zhao knew that by “nurturing,” he didn’t mean teaching writers to write.
With only twenty-four hours in a day, even if he bled himself dry, how many could he personally mentor? At best, in ZeRead’s early days, he recollected a handful of renowned novels and guided certain authors to emulate them, laying the groundwork. Ultimately, the site’s growth depended on the creative output of the broader author base.
His so-called nurturing was more about pioneering a professional path for online novelists and cultivating a cadre of high-earning, career writers.
It wasn’t about individuals but about ZeRead’s capacity to generate sustainable talent and stars. Once ZeRead became the sole—or most professional—online novel platform capable of consistently producing new talent and stars, its path to nationwide dominance would be clear.
However, this goal could not be achieved by Zhao alone.
Therefore, alongside introducing new welfare initiatives, Zhao restructured some positions within the company.