Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry]

Chapter 78

How popular can a movie possibly get?

When "The Cultivator" was released, it was a massive hit, right? It raked in a staggering 8.9 billion at the box office, surpassing the combined earnings of all other films during the same period.

This film, based on a uniquely Chinese concept, sparked a global cultivation frenzy.

At its peak, hordes of foreign fans flocked to China—some drawn by the breathtaking landscapes featured in the movie, others to "pay homage" to the Ten Great Immortal Palaces.

During that time, entertainment journalists couldn’t have been happier.

All they had to do was ride the wave of "The Cultivator’s" popularity, and their articles would instantly rack up sky-high views.

One reporter even mused, "Who knows when we’ll see another phenomenon like this?"

"The Cultivator" was already the pinnacle—its peak so high that no one could imagine any Chinese film surpassing it.

Yet, who would’ve thought that just over a year later, "Stellar War" would burst onto the scene?

The director was still Xu Man, and the production company was still Sheng Quan’s team. Together, they managed to surpass the very peak they had created.

While "The Cultivator" might have lost some viewers due to its uniquely Chinese setting, "Stellar War," with its sci-fi theme, was universally appealing.

"Editor-in-chief, should we go with the headline ['Stellar War' Tickets Scalped for 150 Yuan, Producers Urge Rational Purchases] or ['Mechanical War Dogs from Stellar War Actually Exist, Priced at 700,000 Yuan Each and Still Selling Out']?"

The editor-in-chief thought for a moment. "Run both, just space them out."

Once the editor-in-chief walked away, an intern leaned in and asked, "Sister Chen, isn’t the 700,000 yuan price tag for the top-tier mechanical dogs? The guide dog series, priced at 15,000 yuan, is the one flying off the shelves, right?"

"I know," Sister Chen replied, still typing away, "but this version gets more clicks. We’ll clarify the details in the article."

She glanced at the materials in front of her and added, "But honestly, Sheng Quan is really something. Look at this—mechanical dogs are usually priced sky-high, with even basic models going for hundreds of thousands. Yet she’s selling them for just 15,000 yuan."

The intern skimmed the documents. "Isn’t it because of a technological breakthrough? Lower production costs mean lower prices."

"That’s where your inexperience shows," Sister Chen chuckled. "If she hadn’t disclosed the cost reduction, who would’ve known? Even if she slashed prices to 150,000, 100,000, or even 60,000–70,000, she’d still make a killing."

"Think about it—mechanical guide dogs are essential. We might not need them, but what about the visually impaired? A trained guide dog costs 200,000 yuan, and it’s a living creature with a limited lifespan—maybe 15 to 20 years."

She tapped the documents. "Mechanical guide dogs are different. They come with a 50-year warranty, practically lasting a lifetime. Even if Sheng Quan priced them at 200,000, people would still scramble to buy them. She has no real competition in this market—she could set any price she wanted."

"Ohhh," the intern gasped in realization. "So she’s got a monopoly, but instead of exploiting it, she lowered prices drastically."

The more he thought about it, the more impressed he became. "And not just to 100,000 or 200,000—but to 15,000, which is ridiculously low in comparison…"

"Wow, I didn’t get it from the news before, but now that I see it, Sheng Quan’s practically running a charity here."

"Right? That’s why so many media outlets call her a socially responsible entrepreneur. Honestly, I used to think it was just PR, but now I see I was wrong."

People in media tend to be cynical—whenever someone gets heaped with praise or criticism, their first thought is, "Is this a setup?"

It’s like how Sheng Quan, scrolling through Weibo, would see a random shop suddenly go viral and immediately wonder, "Did they buy hype?" Just professional skepticism.

But now, even a seasoned skeptic like Sister Chen had to admit: Sheng Quan really was that kind of entrepreneur.

She made up her mind. "I’m highlighting this in the article."

The intern, still reeling, was doing mental math. A real guide dog costs 200,000 yuan. If Sheng Quan priced her mechanical versions at 200,000, people would still buy them. But at 15,000, she’s essentially giving up 185,000 yuan in pure profit per unit.

Then he checked the sales figures on the official website and gasped. "…Damn, that’s insanely generous. I’m buying tickets to watch 'Stellar War' three times today—gotta support Sheng Quan."

"Turning down easy money—now that’s vision!"

"It’s not exactly 'turning down easy money,'" Sheng Quan admitted when interviewed about the media frenzy praising her pricing strategy for mechanical guide dogs.

Sure, the praise felt great, but she wanted to set the record straight: "The D1 series does have slim profit margins, but it’s not at a loss like some reports claim. I’m a businesswoman, not a saint—of course I want to make money."

"Even if I didn’t care about profits, there are still operational costs—equipment, salaries, everything. I’m not running a charity."

Donations during disasters? Absolutely. But mass-producing mechanical guide dogs at a loss? That wasn’t happening.

It was like her security company, which exclusively hired veterans. But not every veteran got in—trainees had to undergo rigorous screening and training to meet the standards.

—"Our mechanical guide dogs come in different series because we have to account for varying economic situations. Not every visually impaired person can afford a luxury item—it should be accessible."

—"Of course, different price points mean different performance and quality. We’ve done extensive testing. The D1 series cuts costs, so it’s not as refined as the D2 or D3, but it’s fully functional for daily life."

—"Honestly, 15,000 yuan is still steep. For someone earning 3,000 a month, that’s five months’ salary. The R&D team is working hard to bring costs down further…"

After the interview aired, Sheng Quan’s public image soared even higher.

Why? Because she was refreshingly honest.

With the media showering her with praise, some had wondered, "She’s not doing this for free—why make it sound like she is?"

But Sheng Quan herself stepped forward to clarify, saying there was no need to praise her—she wasn’t operating at a loss and was still making a profit. While the D1 model was priced affordably, that affordability was specifically for visually impaired individuals who genuinely needed guide functionality. For other series with entertainment features, she openly admitted they were priced higher.

She also mentioned that she understood how 15,000 yuan might still be expensive for the average person, and she was committed to developing even more affordable and advanced guide robotic dogs for the blind.

Hearing these words directly from Sheng Quan instantly softened the skepticism of those who had been put off by the media’s excessive praise. Some even began to admire her.

[Earlier, I saw comments saying 15,000 yuan is still too expensive. For ordinary families, it’s certainly not a small sum. But if you look up the prices of robotic dogs before this, they often started at 500,000 yuan and didn’t even come close to the D1’s agility and convenience. Starview has really gone above and beyond.]

[I’m so grateful to Chairwoman Sheng. Right now, her company is the only one with this level of technology for robotic guide dogs. She could’ve charged exorbitant prices, but my nephew, who lost his sight due to an accident—when the news broke, my brother and sister-in-law were prepared to spend their entire savings to buy him one. Then the price was announced: just 15,000 yuan. Honestly, our whole family breathed a sigh of relief.]

[I don’t know if everyone’s aware, but out of all the series, only the D1 is exclusively sold to Chinese citizens with official blind disability certificates. The identity binding ensures the information is pre-registered to prevent resale. I live in Country B, and people here, knowing I’m Chinese, have asked me when the D1 will be available internationally. That’s when I realized the D1 is a benefit reserved solely for our fellow citizens.]

[Same here! A classmate asked me about it, and I was shocked—Starview hasn’t even promoted this domestically.]

[Wow, I had no idea! But thinking about it, the D1 is priced so much lower than the other series. Even if there’s some profit, it can’t be much. It makes sense for Starview to prioritize supplying it to our own people. Ugh, I love Chairwoman Sheng even more now!]

As discussions flourished online, in the real world, robotic guide dogs were being delivered to households one by one.

In an ordinary family of three, the parents watched nervously as their eight-year-old child took careful steps forward. Just as she was about to bump into a wall, the large mechanical dog beside her let out a soft whine, gently tugging at her hem to guide her around the obstacle.

The child smoothly changed direction and successfully reached the master bedroom.

The parents watched, laughing and crying at once. “It works! It really works!”

At another home, a young man took a deep breath and said to the mechanical dog he held by the leash, “Lele, take me to West Lake Park.”

The dog barked in acknowledgment and set off at a steady pace, its four mechanical legs moving smoothly. At every turn, it would pause, whine softly, take a few steps ahead, and glance back to ensure its owner followed before continuing.

Forty-three minutes later—after crossing seven traffic lights and climbing two sets of stairs—they arrived at West Lake Park without a single mishap.

The young man inhaled the fresh scent of grass, then suddenly hugged the dog, laughing joyfully.

His friends, who had been trailing behind, rushed over, enthusiastically petting the dog. “Good boy! You’re amazing!”

In a smaller town, an elderly man frowned, refusing to take the leash. “Why waste money on this? I’ve been blind most of my life—I’m used to it. Return it!”

“Just try it, Dad. There’s a 10-day trial period. I’ve already registered your info, the layout of the house, and the places you like to visit. Just tell it where you want to go.”

“If you still don’t want it after ten days, I’ll return it. No refunds only if it’s intentionally damaged.”

After his children left, the old man—long widowed and living alone—sat in his home, wanting to listen to the TV. He fumbled around but couldn’t find the remote.

He guessed his grandson had probably misplaced it during his last visit and resigned himself to searching blindly.

“That rascal. Where could he have put it?”

A sudden whine from beside him startled the old man. It took him a second to remember the mechanical guide dog his kids had bought. Such a waste of money—at his age, what did he need this for?

Before he could dwell on it, the dog nudged him, then pressed the remote into his hand.

The old man froze, gripping the remote in stunned silence.

“Hey! Can you hear me?”

“Whine…”

“You really can hear! Do you even have ears? Hah! Go fetch the blanket from the couch. You know what a blanket is? Long, soft, pretty big.”

“Bark!”

“No need to snap at me—wait, you actually brought it? You even know what a blanket is? Clever thing.”

“Whine…”

“Oh, now you’re acting coy when I praise you? For a machine, you’ve got quite the personality… Alright, alright, stop nudging. One head pat and you’re happy? You really are just like a dog.”

Ten days later, the man’s children were on the phone.

The brother asked, “Should we check if Dad wants to keep the mechanical dog?”

The sister laughed. “Why bother? If he really didn’t want it, he’d have called us to return it by now. His silence means he’s keeping it.”

“You should’ve seen it, bro. Auntie told me Dad’s been doting on that dog, taking it everywhere—totally unlike his usual reclusive self. If Auntie hadn’t stopped him, he’d have gone fishing, claiming ‘Big Yellow’ would know when a fish bites. Yeah, that’s what he named it.”

This old man wasn’t the only reluctant convert. Many of the initial users were elderly individuals who had lived with blindness for years and never owned a guide dog before.

After all, the cost of a trained guide dog was prohibitive, and managing its daily needs—food, walks, hygiene—was far harder for them than for sighted people.

For the blind, the bond with a guide dog ran deeper than with a typical pet, making the loss when the dog passed away devastating.

Mechanical dogs sidestepped these issues. They might malfunction, need repairs, or require part replacements, but in terms of lifespan… Well, the owner might go before the dog did.

Once Starview’s first batch of robotic guide dogs hit the market, people were surprised to see far more visually impaired individuals navigating the streets with D1 models in tow.

Blindness, regardless of the country, affects many due to various causes. Most simply avoided going out because of the dangers.

But as more blind individuals began appearing in public, it became increasingly clear just how much of a financial sacrifice Sheng Quan had made by pricing the D1 so low.

Sheng Quan: No, not at all—I’ve actually made a huge profit.

Recently, she’s been raking in the money.

The D1 series barely breaks even after deducting costs and labor, but the other series? That’s a different story.

She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‍stuck to one principle: the practical D1 model should be as affordable as possible, while the more entertainment-focused models should carry premium prices—and not just that, she even implemented limited sales.

This might sound counterintuitive, but the results were astonishing.

The budget-friendly D1 maintained steady sales, with most customers carefully considering their purchase. But when it came to the entertainment-oriented mechanical dogs, despite their exorbitant prices, sales skyrocketed.

The top-tier D5 model, priced at a staggering one million per unit, sold out instantly every time it was released—thanks to global demand and limited availability.

Sheng Quan understood the phenomenon well. One of the most thrilling aspects of Interstellar Wars was how the film’s cutting-edge special effects immersed audiences in a "realistic" futuristic world from the very beginning.

Set in a modern world 3,000 years in the future—just fifty years ahead of our own—the movie showcased existing and near-future technologies with such vivid realism that it effortlessly stoked people’s fascination with advanced tech.

And then came the mechanical dogs, which played a pivotal role in the film.

The more Interstellar Wars dominated the global box office, the more unstoppable the sales of Kanxing’s mechanical dog series became.

This might just be the most expensive—and best-selling—"merchandise" in history.

While Sheng Quan was busy counting her profits, not everyone was cheering her success. In China, the public largely admired her due to the D1’s "affordable pricing," even among those without blind family members, who acknowledged her efforts as commendable.

But international media, especially in countries that didn’t benefit from the D1’s accessibility, had a different take.

They conceded that there was no argument against blind individuals purchasing mechanical guide dogs—after all, who would deny them a more convenient aid?

Their criticism centered on this: "Are people blindly buying overpriced, entertainment-only mechanical products simply because they’re influenced by the hype around a blockbuster movie?"

In other words, Interstellar Wars was so wildly popular that fans were impulsively splurging on "merch" without a second thought.

As for Kanxing, how could they justify selling entertainment-based mechanical dogs at such outrageous prices? If guide models could be sold so cheaply in their own country, why were the "merchandise" versions priced so high? Weren’t they just cashing in?

About two weeks after these criticisms surfaced, an incident in Country A made headlines.

A middle-aged man with antisocial tendencies stormed a school with a gun, indiscriminately shooting at students. When he entered a classroom, the teacher’s D3 pet mechanical dog took the bullet meant for her.

After scanning and assessing the situation, it tackled the attacker, pinning him down and preventing further harm.

The news sent shockwaves across the entire nation.