Chapter 29: Not Worth Consulting

The three leading websites in the online fiction industry—Huanjian, Zeyue, and Qidian—each had a different organizational structure at the top.

Huanjian and Zeyue were quite similar, with something of a one-man-rule atmosphere. Kong Decheng was the largest shareholder, and his word was almost synonymous with Huanjian’s will.

The reason for saying “almost,” rather than absolutely, was the existence of Rizhao and Brother Ting—Rizhao in particular. Kong Decheng knew little about the business. At least compared with Rizhao, he could hardly be called an expert. As a result, Rizhao also wielded considerable influence at Huanjian.

Thus, Huanjian possessed formidable execution, but its business expertise and grasp of the market were relatively weaker.

As for Zeyue, Zhao Zejun was like many technology-oriented entrepreneurs: he was both the sole shareholder and the person who understood the business best. He had achieved genuine one-man rule—democratic discussion, centralized decision-making. I am the company.

Qidian was somewhat different. Several founders each held a certain number of shares, so no one person dominated absolutely. Moreover, all of them were experts in the industry. If Zhao Zejun had never appeared, the title of “godfather of online fiction” would probably have belonged collectively to Qidian’s founders.

A group without a leader was naturally no solution. Even in a household of a thousand people, one person had to take charge. Each of the five founders had different strengths: some were skilled in technology, some possessed unique insights into the industry, and some excelled at management and social relations.

At present, Qidian’s principal decision-maker was Mr. Wu, who held the largest share among the founders and possessed the strongest business acumen.

Kong Decheng flew personally to Shanghai. Mr. Wu was extremely courteous, bringing people to the airport to receive him. After the welcoming banquet, the two men held a private discussion in Qidian’s office.

“Mr. Wu, I’m afraid financing is going to be very difficult. Shouldn’t we try a different approach?” Kong Decheng had been considering the matter throughout the journey. In truth, he had no better solution. Zeyue’s approach was already there for them to adopt: signing authors.

Signing authors was a process of separating the wheat from the chaff and putting the best steel to proper use—selecting capable writers and supporting them. The website reduced its burden, while writers who could generate profits for the site received material incentives. It was a win-win situation.

Strictly speaking, it was a three-way victory, since readers could enjoy more excellent novels.

As for those writers still languishing at the “bottom,” there was nothing to be done. Online fiction was not a charitable enterprise; it was impossible to scatter money indiscriminately.

“Great minds think alike!”

Mr. Wu and Kong Decheng reached an immediate agreement. Even if Kong Decheng had not come to him, Mr. Wu had intended to promote author contracts at Qidian.

In fact, Qidian had long since drawn up plans to introduce contracts. The timing, however, had not yet been right. The impact of signing authors remained uncertain, and they had been reluctant to implement the policy rashly.

Now Zeyue had taken the first step and helped Qidian test the waters. The results proved that signing authors was unquestionably the right move. Although Zeyue had gained an early lead, it was still not too late for Qidian to catch up.

The two men soon settled the details. As before, the two sides would jointly introduce the contract system at the same time and under the same policy.

“Mr. Kong, I have another idea. Even if we begin signing authors now, we are already one step behind Zeyue and have missed the most favorable opportunity. Moreover, Zeyue’s benefits are generally better than ours. Even if we offer contracts as well, we still won’t be as attractive to writers as Zeyue.” Mr. Wu paused. “What do you think?”

“That’s precisely why I’m wondering whether we should still find a way to secure financing,” Kong Decheng said.

“I’m afraid that will be very difficult.” Mr. Wu frowned. “At present, online fiction itself creates no value. Where are we supposed to find financing of a million or even several million? Even if we could raise the money, Zeyue could do the same. In the end, we would still be locked in a standoff, burning cash while the bubble grew ever larger. No one would benefit. We would only end up destroying one another.”

Mr. Wu’s response was exactly what Kong Decheng had expected. He himself had little confidence in securing financing. After thinking for a moment, he said, “What do you think of pursuing publication? Rizhao has recently been in contact with publishers in Hong Kong and Taiwan, and several of them have expressed interest.”

“Publication is certainly one possible path. However…”

Mr. Wu looked up at Kong Decheng. After a slight pause, he continued, “Relying solely on occasionally publishing one or two hit books in Hong Kong or Taiwan won’t be enough to establish a stable source of income. In my view, publication is icing on the cake, not a lifeline in a time of need. Fundamentally, it still doesn’t solve the problem that online fiction must create value.”

“Then what do you think we should do?”

Although he had already decided to be completely frank with Kong Decheng, Mr. Wu still hesitated when the words reached his lips.

His idea was too radical even for the online fiction industry as it currently existed.

Moreover, once he spoke it aloud, he would effectively be revealing his trump card. If Huanjian refused to cooperate, then given Qidian’s current share of the market, neither Qidian alone nor any one of the three fiction websites would dare implement it rashly.

Qidian would be placed in an extremely passive position.

But the arrow was already nocked; it had to be loosed. To be perfectly honest, Mr. Wu and Qidian’s senior management had been frightened by Zeyue. It was as though the heavens had sent Zeyue specifically to counter Qidian. Every time, Zeyue managed to get there one step ahead, carrying out the very things Qidian wanted to do but had not yet had time to implement.

Worse still, the results were astonishingly good every time.

Mr. Wu had even begun to suspect that there was a mole inside Qidian, leaking its secrets to Zeyue.

If they could join forces with Huanjian, that would be the best possible outcome. Mr. Wu believed that, as long as the following plan was implemented ahead of Zeyue, it could not only reverse all of Qidian’s disadvantages but also transform the industry’s awkward predicament at a stroke, making Qidian the new ruler of the online fiction world.

In the end, he decided to lay his cards on the table with Kong Decheng. His eyes shining, he said, “I believe the two of us should introduce a payment system for online fiction at the same time. We should charge the readers.”

“Charge the readers?” Kong Decheng failed to understand. “Haven’t we already introduced the tipping function?”

“What I mean is charging by the chapter—mandatory payment!”

Kong Decheng’s lack of sensitivity left Mr. Wu deeply exasperated. It felt as though someone had slammed a fist into his chest. He had never imagined that this former veteran leader of the industry could be so unfamiliar with it.

Suppressing his impatience, he explained, “Tipping is voluntary. Whether readers tip, and how much they tip, is entirely up to them. They can still read the novels even if they give nothing. My idea is that once a novel reaches a certain word count—say, two hundred thousand words—or passes eighty or one hundred chapters, all subsequent chapters would require mandatory payment. If readers don’t pay, they won’t be able to read them.

“That way, authors’ incomes would increase significantly. Zeyue’s few-hundred-yuan diligent-writing award would lose its advantage, while the websites would gain a steady and sustainable source of income and begin creating real value. Whether we sought financing, engaged in a price war, or waited for the right buyer and sold the website, we would have plenty of confidence.”

“Mr. Wu, you’re not joking with me, are you?!”

Kong Decheng suddenly sprang to his feet and stared at Mr. Wu as if he were looking at a monster.