Recently, the Wanjia Supermarket chain has been facing quite a headache.
Their tried-and-true "wolf pack" strategy—flooding an area with multiple stores to dominate the market—had suddenly failed here.
For instance, their newly launched VGO convenience store brand had to shut down even before its trial operation began, like a general falling in battle before achieving victory.
Wanlong Supermarket, on the other hand, had launched a one-hour delivery service that directly addressed modern consumers' needs, allowing customers to shop without leaving their homes. This move caught Wanjia completely off guard.
As the industry leader, Wanjia naturally wouldn’t sit idle. They quickly rolled out their own delivery service, only to realize that hiring delivery staff was far too costly—every order sold meant a loss, mainly due to current technological limitations.
Later, they followed Wanlong’s lead by targeting university students for deliveries, but that also ended in losses.
The efficiency and service quality of these student workers paled in comparison to Wanlong’s delivery team.
Wanjia’s executives couldn’t understand why the same students who worked diligently for Wanlong were so lackluster when working for them.
Still, after calculations, they concluded one thing: Wanlong was definitely losing money on this, especially in logistics, and would eventually have to cancel the service.
But Wanjia couldn’t afford to wait. If this dragged on, their expansion plans in Bright Pearl City would be ruined.
At this critical moment, Ding Yingyao appeared.
As a young artist who rose to fame through a popular talent show, and with his Bright Pearl City roots, his endorsement was bound to make an impact.
Most importantly, he seemed to have some unresolved issues with Wanlong Supermarket—a perfect angle to exploit.
Additionally, while Wanlong’s delivery model was innovative, most customers still preferred shopping in-store due to technological constraints.
Wanjia decided that if they couldn’t compete in delivery, they’d focus on marketing.
As soon as the news broke, Bright Pearl City’s local forums, newspapers, and TV buzzed with excitement.
"Wanjia Supermarket really is a top brand—they actually got Ding Yingyao to endorse them!"
"I heard Ding Yingyao won’t just perform live, he’s also holding an album signing event right outside Wanjia!"
"Really? Ding Yingyao is Bright Pearl City’s pride! No matter what, I’m going to support him!"
"Same here! I’ve never bought an album before, but for Ding Yingyao, I’ll make an exception!"
"..........."
With Ding Yingyao’s new album announcement and the first signing event set in their city, word spread like wildfire, electrifying the entire place.
Especially among the youth—almost everyone was talking about it. After all, this era’s fan culture was far more intense than in later years.
Back then, celebrities still had an untouchable aura, unlike in the future when rapid information flow shattered that illusion, cooling fan fervor.
Even declining record stores saw an opportunity, stocking up on Ding Yingyao’s albums in bulk.
In the age of digital music dominance, physical albums were a tough sell—only megastars or overnight sensations could guarantee decent sales. Most artists, including Ding Yingyao, struggled.
His album might not sell well elsewhere, but in Bright Pearl City, with the right hype, it was bound to succeed.
Before the album even dropped, students and young fans were already scouting for purchase channels, making it an instant hit in the city.
Meanwhile, a few promoters were pitching a new album by an artist named Xue Qian to record stores, with little success.
Most store owners refused to stock it—Xue Qian simply wasn’t a known name.
Huang Yong was one of the few who agreed, ordering a hundred copies just because he’d heard Xue Qian’s music and found it decent.
But he soon regretted it.
For one, the album’s title, Ugly Monster, sounded like a flop. Second, an unexpected media storm erupted.
Xue Qian’s release date clashed with Ding Yingyao’s, and worse—Xue Qian had just signed a deal with Wanlong Supermarket.
The backlash online was immediate.
"Did Wanlong lose their minds? Signing some nobody instead of local star Ding Yingyao?"
"Xue Qian must’ve been cheaper. Wanlong’s just being stingy, haha!"
"Wanlong’s deliberately spitting on their own people! A local brand ignoring their hometown hero for an outsider?"
"Exactly! Wanjia knows how to pick the right partner."
"Rumor has it Ding Yingyao approached Wanlong first, but they turned him down. Thought they were just cheap, but then they signed Xue Qian? Talk about betrayal!"
With some trolls fueling the fire, Wanlong’s reputation took a nosedive.
Yang Xin, Wanlong’s manager, panicked and wanted to contain the fallout, but Liu Yutong stopped him.
"This won’t hurt sales. Customers care more about service than endorsements."
Yang Xin hesitated. "But what if it escalates?"
"Relax," Liu Yutong smiled. "Let the bullets fly a little longer."
She almost hoped the controversy would grow—the bigger the storm, the greater the impact when the truth came out. Then Wanlong’s name would truly shine over Bright Pearl City.
Honestly, she felt like thanking Wanjia.
They kept handing Wanlong the perfect stepping stones.
She wondered how Wanjia’s CEO, Song Lin, would react when Ding Yingyao’s scandal blew up.
Then again, someone of Song Lin’s status might not even care about a D-list celebrity.
................
Meanwhile, in a Bright Pearl City apartment.
Xue Qian sat in his temporary rental, staring absently at the patchy streets outside.
He hadn’t planned to stay in the city long—but once you board a "black ship," it’s hard to disembark.
That lawyer Zhao Tianyi really knew his stuff—he managed to slash the penalty fee from 30 million down to 5.6 million. Getting such a result in an unfamiliar jurisdiction was already impressive.
Even so, 5.6 million was still an astronomical figure for Xue Qian at the moment.
Fortunately, Liu Yutong gave him an option: to use 70% of the shares from the internet café under his name to settle the debt, along with all proceeds from the new album Ugly’s signing events going to Wanlong to offset the penalty.
As for revenue from other album sales channels, the split would be 50-50, with production and distribution costs shared equally under the collaboration model.
Xue Qian agreed almost without hesitation.
He was getting an incredible deal.
First, signing events usually didn’t sell much—a few thousand at most would already be considered a huge success.
The rest was even better. Despite not investing a single cent and still being over five million in debt, he was getting a fair 55% split. Miss Liu didn’t even demand the song copyrights—the terms were unbelievably generous.
Xue Qian’s dedication to music was truly commendable. To get the new album out as soon as possible, he pushed himself to the limit, recording songs and filming the MV even when his voice was nearly gone.
As a result, the new album Ugly was released in a very short time.
But just as he finished it, he received a completely baffling update.
Liu Yutong had directly ordered the production of 200,000 CD copies of the album, along with a "limited" run of 10,000 cassette tapes as a special collector’s edition.
What was she planning?
Did she expect him to sign all of them?
Was she trying to work him to death?
