Chapter 95
Is it hard to make 100,000 of the best, most exquisite postcards within three hours?
Not at all—so long as the money is in place, everything is negotiable!
With money and a “spend-it-if-I-want” attitude, Xie Xingchen—fully willing to bleed cash—got the postcards one hour before midnight on the 19th.
The tireless robots reopened the 100 Lunar New Year gift bundles that had already been packed. They carefully placed inside each bundle a crystal box containing ten postcards per box, illustrated with Chang’an City.
As for the remaining postcards, Xie Xingchen stored them carefully in the warehouse, planning to include them as future bundle freebies or use them as raffle prizes.
When everything was ready, midnight arrived quietly.
In the back-end system, Xie Xingchen first checked the full list of customers who qualified for the drawing. He encoded the list in “garbled text mode,” then started the livestream.
Fans who had been waiting flooded in. In less than ten minutes, they broke the room’s viewer-count refresh record.
Xie Xingchen smiled and greeted them. “Good evening, everyone. Since you all asked for it, I’m doing a raffle livestream tonight.”
[Boss Xie, please bless me to win!]
[+1, Boss Xie bless me to win, win, win!]
Seeing the comments erupt into a wall of “bless me to win,” Xie Xingchen couldn’t help laughing. “Hey, hey, hey—you’re going too far. When did I ever have that kind of power?”
And yet—
[Waaah, I don’t care! I don’t care! Boss Xie totally has that power!]
[No! I’m not listening! I’m not listening! If I say you can bless us, you can bless us!]
The tantrum-throwing comments made Xie Xingchen raise both hands in surrender. “Fine, fine—whatever you say goes.”
[That’s more like it! (angry face) Speaking of which, I’m so mad—during the daily draws I kept getting ‘This Order Free.’ Aaaaah! All I want is a chance to buy the Citrus Mega Bundle and a Priority Purchase Card!]
[Damn! You animal upstairs, you’re way too much! I get ‘Thanks for Participating’ every day and I didn’t say anything? Okay, fine, I’m saying it today—but that’s not the point. The point is: you already got free orders and you still want the jackpot too? Shouldn’t you leave some luck for us never-winners?!]
Seeing the comments about to start a fight, Xie Xingchen hurriedly laughed it off. “Alright, alright, raffle time, raffle time—everyone look at the big screen. This is the drawing list. It’s straight from the StarNet Mall back-end page. I guarantee I didn’t do anything shady.”
He pulled up the StarNet Mall page for everyone. Since it was set to garbled mode, all the information on-screen appeared as scrambled text.
But nobody really minded. They only wanted to confirm that the drawing was truly being done in the back-end and that it really was as fair and transparent as Boss Xie claimed.
Xie Xingchen waved. “You all see it clearly? If you’re ready, we’ll start the draw.”
[Seen it—let’s go!]
[Hugging my fish tail and waiting politely for the draw!]
[Charge! The Lunar New Year mega bundle is mine, QVQ!]
“….”
He clicked the [Draw] button.
The screen instantly became dizzying.
Information flickered and changed rapidly in an irregular pattern.
After a while, the changing slowed more and more.
Finally, the screen stuttered—and the list of 100 winners appeared.
Xie Xingchen displayed it for ten minutes, then said, “Alright, that’s the end of tonight’s drawing. Everyone log off and go to sleep.”
[Nooo, don’t! Who can sleep this early?!]
[Yeah! How about you show us what’s inside the Lunar New Year gift bundle?]
[Yes! Great idea! I want to see what’s in it too!]
Hearing that, Xie Xingchen gave an awkward smile and shook his head. “Better not.”
Because… if he showed everyone the contents, would he even be able to log off afterward?
It was late—no need to hype everyone up even more, or who knew how many people would end up sleepless tonight.
He ended the stream with a sheepish grin, wiping sweat off his forehead.
It’s not scarcity people fear—it’s unfairness.
Even though it was “just a raffle,” there was no guarantee someone wouldn’t be so jealous they couldn’t sleep.
Xie Xingchen reflected deeply.
“Next time, I really shouldn’t do raffle livestreams at this unholy hour,” he muttered.
Then he stubbornly waited until 1:00 a.m. before sending winner notifications, specifically noting that prizes would be shipped after 7:00 a.m.
Once the winner texts went out, naturally some people were ecstatic and some were miserable.
But a large portion of people were realistic—they knew they probably wouldn’t win—so they had gone to bed early.
Little merfish Lanni, the one with the blue tail, was one of them.
As a born unlucky soul, he tried hard to keep up with everyone, but it was as if he’d been cursed by “Thanks for Participating.” Every time he drew, all he got was “Thanks for Participating,” again and again.
And with Eugenia and Margaret—two walking “luck gods”—right beside him for comparison, by the end he truly had no temper left.
As the unluckiest of the unlucky, Lanni watched the stream for a bit, then went to sleep.
But today he was woken by delivery.
A courier robot told him to come up to the shore to receive Earth Commerce’s Lunar New Year gift bundle, and Lanni was stunned on the spot!
Not only was Lanni shocked—even the shameless friends who’d always “mocked” him as a “black merfish” were shocked when they saw him carrying a huge package back.
The same thing happened to another unlucky guy: Luga.
As an ordinary person, Luga’s luck was neither terrible nor great.
But that assessment was from before he encountered Earth Commerce.
After Earth Commerce, his “not terrible, not great” luck somehow turned him into a textbook “unlucky loser” in everyone’s mouth.
Yes, that term also got popular because of Earth Commerce. He still remembered that when the term first appeared, his friends—and netizens who knew his “glorious” track record—immediately slapped it onto him and never let go.
But, well…
Every unlucky loser dreams of becoming a lucky king.
It’s a raffle, right? If you fail once, try twice. If twice doesn’t work, try three times. Surely one of them will hit?
Reality, however, is cruel.
Forget three times—Luga couldn’t hit even after thirty.
With hands black, face black, and luck black, he burned through all his draw chances and got nothing.
Worse, he even stole his little brother’s draw chances—used more than twenty tries—and still didn’t pull anything except “Thanks for Participating.”
When only one draw was left, his furious little brother beat him up. Then his brother hit it in a single shot—one draw, and he pulled a Priority Purchase Card!
That was… extremely embarrassing.
From every angle—front, side, every possible angle—it confirmed Luga’s pure, authentic “unlucky bloodline.”
Over this period, Luga had finally accepted his unlucky identity.
He didn’t even want to watch the midnight livestream on the 19th.
But he never imagined that after just one night of sleep, he would flip from unlucky loser to lucky king—he actually won a Lunar New Year gift bundle!
This was official certification of his “lucky king” status!
Out of so many people, only a hundred winners—he was that one percent! Holy crap, he was amazing!
No time to talk—Luga snapped photo after photo, “click click click,” taking countless pictures of himself with the Lunar New Year gift bundle, then excitedly posted them to StarBlog.
He wasn’t the only one. Tons of people reacted the same way—famous “lucky kings” on StarNet, famous “unlucky losers” on StarBlog, and in fact there were even more “unlucky losers” among the winners this time than “lucky kings.”
If everyone didn’t already know that nobody had the ability to hack StarNet Mall, people would’ve gone full conspiracy theory.
Even Xie Xingchen, seeing it that morning, couldn’t help feeling relieved.
Thank goodness. Thank goodness he’d done it as a livestream draw—otherwise he probably would’ve been cursed out for “black-box manipulation.”
Honestly, he hadn’t expected that among the 100 Lunar New Year gift bundles, the majority of winners would be people known for terrible luck.
And what he really hadn’t expected was this—
Netizens dug up those mid-tier unlucky winners and discovered that during the livestream they kept spamming one phrase in the comments:
“Boss Xie, bless me.”
And so, for no good reason, Xie Xingchen became the Star Alliance’s number-one “bless you to win” figure.
Xie Xingchen was full of question marks.
To be honest, he really didn’t want that title!
He grabbed Prosperity to complain. “Prosperity, don’t you think netizens these days are kind of… sick in the head?”
Prosperity, who was busy working and got dragged over to hear nonsense: “……”
I feel like you might be the one who’s sicker in the head, boss.
Prosperity sighed, patted his boss on the shoulder, left behind a single line—“Stop messing around”—and walked off.
Xie Xingchen: ?
He rubbed his nose. For some reason he felt like he’d been roasted.
And it was entirely self-inflicted!
He shook his head hard, flinging that untimely thought out of his mind, then went to the designer Zhang Yu and sent her a freshly taken photo of Chang’an City under the morning light.
February 19 was a special day.
On this day, many people saw a stunning ancient city they’d never seen before—Chang’an City.
Inside the Lunar New Year gift bundles, those tiny crystal boxes—only ten postcards per box, and easy to overlook—finally got discovered after people had finished showing off everything else.
When the first person who noticed them opened the box, her eyes slowly widened.
At that moment, the fruit, the food— even her favorite skincare products—seemed to lose their appeal.
Where was this?
Did this place really exist?
Could she travel there?
Those were the three rapid-fire questions that popped into Cui Jiayi’s head the instant she saw the postcard.
Her first reaction wasn’t even to show off on StarBlog.
Instead, she DM’d Xie Xingchen immediately, asking excitedly about the postcard.
And she wasn’t alone—many others did the same.
Unfortunately, Xie Xingchen rarely checked DMs, so their messages sank like stones into the sea, unanswered.
After some time, the first netizen finally posted the postcard to StarBlog.
Soon after, more lucky winners followed.
A postcard so beautiful and moving—something nobody had ever seen—fermented in silence for a few hours, then rocketed straight onto the trending list.
#EarthCommercePostcard
#Earth’sBeautifulAncientArchitecture
#BossXieIsThisBuildingReal
Top-tier celebrity treatment.
Three red-highlighted “HOT” trends in the top three slots turned “postcards” into everyone’s unattainable white moonlight.
Other netizens, already drowning in envy and jealousy, discovered that the Lunar New Year gift bundle even included such gorgeous postcards—making them even more… envious, jealous, and hateful.
It was too pretty!
This place called Chang’an City was unbelievably beautiful!
They wanted it too!
Even if it wasn’t free, they’d pay for it!
The cries grew louder and louder. In the end, everyone moved in perfect unspoken coordination and stormed Xie Xingchen’s StarBlog, sobbing that he was being unfair and urging him to hurry up and release a purchase link for the same postcards.
Don’t think they didn’t know—these postcards were absolutely something that could be mass-produced!
If so, then hurry up and let everyone have one!
The sight of people clutching wallets and wailing “Let me spend money!” was practically unprecedented. The whole spectacle left the merchants who came to watch the drama completely stunned.
When Xie Xingchen learned about it, even he was briefly dumbfounded.
He’d expected postcards to have a wide audience, but he truly hadn’t expected them to cause such a massive frenzy.
But netizens were right: unlike other items, postcards could be produced endlessly once the design was finalized—just hand it to the supplier and the goods would flow continuously.
So he could absolutely list postcards in large quantities and boost revenue for the merchandise shop.
Ahem. Not that the shop’s revenue wasn’t already high—but who says no to money?
So Xie Xingchen immediately posted:
[Xie Xingchen V: I’ve felt everyone’s enthusiasm~ Don’t worry, don’t rush—about the postcards, I’ll definitely make you satisfied. Please wait a few days patiently; I promise they will be listed in the merchandise shop in a few days. Also, let me answer two questions. First: the buildings on the postcard really exist, but tourism isn’t open yet—though it will be in the future. Second: the postcard buildings are a secondary processed illustration, and the artist is @ZhangYu V.]
One post detonated a huge wave.
Listed in the merch shop. The buildings are real. Tourism will open later. The artist of the ancient city.
These were exactly what people cared about!
And Boss Xie even thoughtfully tagged the artist—how could they not go browse the artist’s StarBlog after such considerate service?
So Zhang Yu—completely immersed in drawing—noticed her light-brain making “ding-ding dang-dang” notification sounds every so often, disrupting her work… then again a bit later, “ding-ding dang-dang,” disrupting her work again.
The sound was driving her insane.
Zhang Yu started to suspect her light-brain was broken.
She frowned and ran a check. But before the self-diagnosis even finished, the familiar “ding-ding dang-dang” rang out again.
Zhang Yu: No way. Is it really broken?
She’d bought this light-brain less than three years ago—could it really break that fast?
Would the manufacturer still honor the warranty?
And speaking of that… where was her warranty card?
If she couldn’t find it, even if it was still under warranty, she wouldn’t be able to claim it, right?
She spiraled through thoughts until the self-diagnosis finished—without having remembered where she’d put the warranty card.
[Beep-beep. Diagnosis complete: no issues detected.]
Zhang Yu: ?
Zhang Yu nearly collapsed.
This counts as “no issues”?
No way—it had to be broken!
She needed to hurry up and buy a new one.
Worried the “broken” light-brain would affect her work, she threw on a coat and rushed to leave to buy a replacement and get personal device verification done.
But just as she put on her shoes, a notification chimed:
[StarBlog App: Dear user, congratulations. Your StarBlog account “Zhang Yu V” has surpassed one million followers.]
She froze, slowly set her shoes down, and stared blankly.
What?
Her StarBlog followers surpassed a million?
Compared to that possibility, she felt it was more likely her light-brain was broken and the apps were broken too.
But—
[Incoming call: Former colleague Ivy]
Ivy was her closest friend from her previous company. They joined around the same time, but Ivy was highly capable, aggressive, and socially skilled—she’d long since been promoted to supervisor of a neighboring team.
Zhang Yu hesitated, but answered.
On the other side, the glamorous woman greeted her warmly, like old times.
Ivy: “Xiao Yu, good afternoon. Long time no see.”
Zhang Yu and Ivy had been close at the company, but after Zhang Yu quit, they gradually spoke less.
Zhang Yu smiled. “Good afternoon. Yeah, it’s been a while.”
Ivy praised her with a smile. “I saw you on StarBlog today. I didn’t expect your art to improve this much after you left—seriously, you’re amazing!”
Hearing Ivy’s sincerity, Zhang Yu relaxed.
Sure enough, Ivy just wanted to reconnect. She praised her a few times, offered heartfelt blessings, and hung up.
Zhang Yu felt pretty happy—honestly, as long as Ivy wasn’t calling to ask for a job referral, she was happy.
Because after she’d accidentally mentioned her benefits to an old colleague once, a bunch of people begged her for introductions. Now, whenever she saw a call from a former coworker, she got scared.
“Senior Ivy, why didn’t you tell Sister Zhang Yu you want to jump ship?” a slightly chubby but pretty young woman asked curiously.
She was Ivy’s junior—a new employee who’d joined less than three months ago.
Because she was Ivy’s junior, Ivy valued her and even brought her along on field work today.
The junior was tight-lipped, good-tempered, and not a bad person, so Ivy never hid her desire to resign from her.
Ivy sighed, propping her chin with a gloomy hand. “It’s a bit late for that. Back when she wasn’t famous, I didn’t invest in the relationship. Now she’s blown up, and I’d be showing up to grab benefits… Even if I could do it, why would someone like her want to help?”
“But weren’t you really close before?” the junior asked, confused.
In her view, if they were close before, that meant there was a bond. And if there was a bond, helping each other should be normal.
Ivy shook her head. “We’ll see.”
Unlike her junior’s naïveté, Ivy truly felt it was hard to bring up—especially since she knew many coworkers had already approached Zhang Yu for referrals, and Zhang Yu had refused them.
Seeing her junior look even more depressed than she was, Ivy patted her back gently. “Alright, it’s not a big deal. Trust me—given my ability, I can work anywhere. I don’t have to cling to Earth Commerce.”
The junior pouted and argued, “That’s true, but only Earth Commerce has low workload and high pay! It suits you perfectly. Otherwise, I’m scared you’ll push yourself so hard you’ll literally work yourself to death one day.”
Ivy had a younger sister with a genetic illness, so she needed money—badly.
She was tempted by Earth Commerce because she heard that Zhang Yu worked from home, finished tasks on time, and her boss didn’t care what she did the rest of the day—and her salary was high enough that one month equaled almost a whole year from before.
Thinking about it, Ivy couldn’t help feeling jealous.
Trying to make light of it, Ivy said, “It’s not that dramatic. I’m healthy. I’m not going to drop dead from overtime. Alright, alright—the client’s about to arrive. Fix your face.”
She pinched her junior’s cheek, put aside her hesitation, and focused fully on work.
On the other side, after hanging up with Ivy, Zhang Yu suddenly remembered a rumor from when she first joined the company: Ivy’s promotion wasn’t just because she was capable—it was also because leadership pitied her, since she had a sister with a genetic disease.
Even when Zhang Yu and Ivy were closest, she’d never dared ask about it.
But thinking back, Ivy was insanely hardworking from day one.
Whenever Zhang Yu left work, Ivy was still there. When Zhang Yu arrived, Ivy was already there.
And Ivy always spent carefully—if she couldn’t avoid spending, she chose the best value. Back then, Zhang Yu and the others loved asking Ivy for advice when buying things.
So Ivy climbing to supervisor quickly—earning two or three times what other newcomers made—wasn’t luck.
With that in mind, Zhang Yu decided to ask her boss whether Earth Commerce was hiring.
Xie Xingchen sounded surprised. “Hiring? Are you trying to recommend someone to me?”
Zhang Yu’s face flushed. “N-no… I mean… I’m just asking.”
Xie Xingchen chuckled, resting his chin in his hand. “Zhang Yu, don’t be so nervous. If you really do have someone to recommend, it’s not impossible.”
After all, he now had a merchandise shop. Originally, he hadn’t planned to grow it big, but now…
Thinking of the postcards that had been fought over like crazy, he suddenly felt that hiring a few artists and designers with different styles to develop merchandise wasn’t a bad idea.
Zhang Yu widened her eyes in surprise.
Before she even realized it, she was already smiling.
“Really? Really can I? If it’s really okay, then I want to recommend someone to you, boss! Her name is Ivy—she’s my former colleague. We joined the last company at the same time, she’s super capable, she can design and paint, and her style is different from mine—she’s more refined, more oil-painting style… If you think it works, I can contact her for an interview right now!”
Xie Xingchen was a bit surprised. “She’s that good?”
Zhang Yu nodded firmly. “Yes. She’s truly excellent.”
Xie Xingchen smiled and nodded. “Alright. Set up an interview time with her—any day this week is fine. Once you confirm, tell me the time.”
Zhang Yu nodded excitedly. “Okay, boss! No problem, boss!”
After hanging up, Zhang Yu immediately told Ivy.
When Ivy realized Zhang Yu had quietly helped her this much, her eyes turned red.
“Xiao Yu… thank you. Really. Thank you so much.”
Flustered and not good with words, Zhang Yu waved her hands. “You’re welcome, you’re welcome! Ivy, you really don’t have to keep thanking me. You should thank yourself—if you weren’t so good—no, if you weren’t so capable, then even if I recommended you, you wouldn’t get the opportunity.”
Then, trying to change the subject, she added, “By the way, Ivy, when are you free to interview? My boss said you can pick any time within the next week.”
Seeing Zhang Yu’s embarrassed, blushing face, Ivy couldn’t help laughing.
She was deeply grateful, but since Zhang Yu didn’t want endless thanks, Ivy was willing to keep that gratitude in her heart and repay her when she had the chance.
Thinking of her sister who needed care, Ivy wanted to start as soon as possible, so she asked carefully, “If Boss Xie is free… can I interview tonight?”
Zhang Yu didn’t overthink it and nodded. “Should be fine. I’ll ask my boss in a bit.”
Ivy’s eyes were sincere as she blurted again, “Thank you! Xiao Yu, really—thank you so much.”
Other than “thank you,” even Ivy—who was usually so eloquent—couldn’t find words for how she felt.
Zhang Yu smiled awkwardly, scratching her head in a silly way. “Ahh, really, you’re welcome! Oh my god—please don’t thank me again. If you really want to thank me, then later on, help share some of the workload!”
They looked at each other—
and suddenly they both smiled.
As if… everything that mattered didn’t need to be said out loud.
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