Chapter 842: Chapter 351 Got a Top Influencer_2

The copyright advantage of QQ Music is unshakable. NetEase Cloud’s market share is only 20%, but it’s enough for them to hold their ground. Between these two giants, there are nearly only two other music software platforms that can survive.

One is your Kugou Music, the other is Kuwo.

Honestly, I don’t hold any particularly optimistic views about the online music industry myself. It’s quite a chicken rib–a little dry and tasteless–but music apps can serve as traffic gateways for live-streaming platforms, and that’s critical.

Kugou + Kuwo, we’re talking about 100 million+ users. Once Tencent takes control of these two, the QQ Music empire will be completely immovable. At that point, who can scrape cheap traffic out of Tencent’s grasp?

Better to grab them for ourselves and form a three-legged battle for dominance.

I’m not looking for online music to make a ton of money, just two things: protect our traffic gateway and use them as leverage to negotiate with NetEase Cloud–

I’ll form an alliance with these two apps, and you open an interface in NetEase Cloud to funnel traffic into my live-streaming platform. Deal or not?”

Chen Jie was absolutely fascinated as he listened, feeling that Su Huai’s strategic plan was simply stunning.

But he did have one question: “Why not negotiate directly with Tencent? They might be willing as well, wouldn’t they?”

Because Tencent Entertainment will eventually launch its own live-streaming app too. Forget everything else–the golden value of their short video platform is beyond words.

Su Huai didn’t elaborate, merely chuckling and dismissing the idea. “Tencent is hard to deal with–let’s wait and see. Nothing’s set in stone yet.”

Chen Jie energized himself and swore his allegiance.

“When I get back, I’ll absolutely help you investigate the inner workings of those music companies. Mr. Wang won’t last very long; he’s bound to be selling them off. When the time comes, we’ll have a good showdown with Tencent Entertainment!”

That’s the right attitude.

Buying Gou Star’s live-streaming service would be easy; buying Kugou Music, though? That’s tough. You’d have to clash swords with Tencent Entertainment’s industry layout–go head-to-head.

Winning or losing, Su Huai wasn’t overly concerned. But when it comes to doing things, hey, might as well do them well.

“Alright then, I won’t keep you. Keep pushing forward!”

They said their goodbyes. Chen Jie went back to playing his corporate espionage game, and Su Huai got back to his supply chain grind.

…

Now rewind just a little bit–to around mid-March, when Susan completed another assignment.

Girl group trainees.

She managed to bring Yang Chaoyue onboard, along with Zhang Zining for good measure.

And the most surprising part? It barely cost anything–throw out a couple of lollipops, and they followed along.

Su Huai was shocked when he saw Chao Yue Sister at the company’s rehearsal space. Turning to Susan, he asked, “Where did you find such a ridiculously cute little mess?”

Susan gave Yang Chaoyue a helpless look and sighed, “Isn’t her company doing live streaming too? I thought this girl was pretty interesting, photogenic too. Maybe she’d fit as a backup member for the girl group overhaul. Bring her in for some training–except after she signed, when we trained her… Holy crap! Is there cement poured into those limbs or what?”

“Pffft!”

Su Huai couldn’t hold back, laughing so hard he was nearly in tears.

Susan waved it off, annoyed, “Stop laughing already. Just take her off my hands and bring her to your streaming department to train her properly. She’s definitely a born ‘live-stream Sacred Body.’ Don’t ruin my girl group lineup by keeping her here.”

“Wait a second–let me ponder this a bit more.”

Su Huai rubbed his chin as he looked at Yang Chaoyue in the room, visibly troubled.

It’s still too soon…

There’s about a year left before Produce 101 airs. Where could I possibly place her right now?

Throwing her into live streaming doesn’t make much sense–sure, she can make money. But after she earns money, how do I fit her into 101?

And even if I do slot her in, how can she sell misery authentically?

A Yang Chaoyue who doesn’t cry isn’t a proper Lucky Carp.

So, she can’t be fully fed, can’t be starved either, but also can’t be idle…

Dammit, this is tricky!

Su Huai mulled it over for quite a while before a flash of inspiration hit–right, I can sign her up as an actress and toss her into an acting boot camp for a year!

Set her accommodations in the company’s upstairs apartments, provide breakfast and dinner, and give her 3,000 RMB in monthly living expenses. This keeps her at a slight hunger, but also helps salvage her poor acting skills.

Su Huai knew deep down that this girl’s acting could be salvaged.

She wasn’t particularly gifted. If you ranked female actors in Mainland China by innate talent, top-tier starts with Zhou Xun, then Zhang Zifeng, Liu Haocun–below these, it’s all just average. Further down? Bottom-tier disasters like baby, gbt, lss…

Yang Chaoyue actually belongs in the average tier, somewhere mid-range. She’s entirely trainable.

The issue is that if you rush her into acting to earn money without any preparation, it destroys her confidence. After some theater training though, she did start to look halfway decent.

Besides, Su Huai wasn’t expecting her to earn money, so letting her train properly for a year–wasn’t that perfect?

Once decided, he immediately took Yang Chaoyue away.

At the office, he had a brief conversation with her, didn’t explain much, simply encouraged her to study hard. The company would cover costs, and he handed her a standard contract–not overly demanding, but didn’t give any special perks either. The rest was left up to her agent.

Su Huai made just one request: Find the best and strictest teacher, and establish a systematic framework for her.

Honestly, in terms of acting, Su Huai could teach her himself.

Experiential, performance-focused, method acting–this Gou Dongxi knew it all and mastered it all. The pity was never having encountered a good match to go all out in a satisfying head-to-head showdown…

As for the girl group, Su Huai left it entirely to Susan’s discretion, letting her pick freely.

Nowadays, Xingyu wasn’t lacking good material. Whatever they pursued, they could achieve with flying colors. However, if you demanded the trifecta–looks, talent, personality–all at top-level standards, it did stretch expectations thin.

In reality, there simply aren’t that many destined stars out there.

Just after wrapping up the girl group issue, the artistic director Alex couldn’t resist stirring up a new commotion.

“Mr. Su, you’ve got your girl group now–what about a boy band?”

Su Huai blinked, “When did I ever say I was planning to form a boy band?”

“Well, I’ve got to have something to do, right? It’s not like there’s a stage at home every day. I’m such a high-end musical talent, and you’re just gonna let me sit idle?”

“I haven’t paid your salary?”

“You have, but I need a sense of purpose too.”

“Alright, alright, so what do you wanna do?”

Alex lit up with excitement as he revealed his plans: “I’ve got my eyes on a few promising guys with prior reality competition backgrounds. If you approve, I’ll approach them for a boy band project. Later, we can send them into the male version of 101 for another round, pen some songs for them–this time for sure they’ll blow up!”

The idea wasn’t half-bad, but Su Huai really couldn’t be bothered.

“Alright, all responsibility is yours. Go ahead!”

“Thank you, Mr. Su!”

Alex bowed deeply but lingered awkwardly before finally asking, “So… Mr. Su, what’s my budget for poaching talent?”

At this, Su Huai instantly sensed something was off–“Who exactly are you planning to poach?”

He started tallying on his fingers: “There’s two really promising kids in X9 Junior, one standout dancer in UNIQ. Oh, remember when you ranted about Shang Wenjie? Her Fresh Geek Junior is going through contract disputes right now–there’s some good picks there too…”

The more Su Huai listened, the more alarmed he became: “What are the names of the two in X9?”

“Uh, one’s called Xiao Zhan, the other is…”

Holy hell!

Su Huai immediately understood just how much mischief Alex was planning–UNIQ’s dancer was definitely Wang Yibo, and in Fresh Geek Junior it had to be either Hou Minghao or Zeng Shunxi.

“You’ve really got an eye for talent, huh?”

Su Huai cast him a side glance with a faint smile. “Spill it–how’d you pick them out? How long have you been watching them?”

“Well, this is my professional domain, isn’t it? There’s not a single mid-tier or bottom-tier boy band in China that I’m unaware of…”

Alex grinned sheepishly and then launched into complaints: “These companies don’t have a clue about managing bands. Their understanding of leveraging traffic is light-years behind yours–who forms boy bands with cold starts? You have to cultivate them gradually and give them exposure! If it were me…”

He rattled off a flurry of planning details.

Some of it made sense, while other parts were utterly impractical.

For instance, reintroducing Wang Yibo definitely made sense–his stage presence held immense potential for refinement.

But collaborating with Panda for platform-based competitions? Absolutely not feasible–Wang Siming’s platform lacks the traffic depth of the Big Three.

Quite frankly, Su Huai didn’t care much about these boy group top idols. The entertainment industry operated under a different framework, unrelated to Xingyu’s core objectives.

Still, if Alex wanted to dabble, why not? Doesn’t concern me anyway.

“Here’s a budget of 10 million RMB for you. Do as you wish with it, but that’s all the money you’re getting. The outcome is entirely up to your efforts, okay?”

“Got it, got it!”

Alex jumped for joy as he dashed away.

“Mr. Su, just wait for the good news I’ll bring!”

Su Huai shook his head and chuckled softly. Didn’t understand where Alex found such confidence–10 million? Who could he realistically poach?

Either way, losses were manageable, so let him go for it.

**********

Total expectations dive-bombing–sound familiar?