The End of the Universe Is Live-Streaming E-commerce – CH13

Chapter 13: The 13th Day of Livestream Selling

Sending gifts while watching a livestream counted as basic practice. Lighting up the exhibition hall, on the other hand, was a method to encourage big spenders to consume more. Simply put, it meant sending every gift that could be sent at least once.

This kind of “money-grabbing” method worked everywhere. China had it, and StarNet had it too. The only difference was the name. 1114 chose the Chinese term to explain it to Lin Zhao.

“If there has to be any difference, then it’s probably that the ones on StarNet are more expensive.”

The video 1114 had previously edited for Lin Zhao could also be considered a small hit on StarNet. This kind of precise traffic push was truly lethal. Even though Lin Zhao had wanted to save traffic and use the good steel on the blade later, so he had 1114 shut it off not long after it began, the algorithm of big data still allowed many people who were already likely to like this video to see it. It received countless likes, and his follower count shot up.

Although the Yasa race had the unique racial trait of destined companions, not everyone in the vast star systems controlled by the Yasa Empire was Yasa.

In fact, pure-blooded Yasa people could now be considered a minority. They were the one percent standing at the top of the pyramid, most of them living on the mother planet, Eurybia. After years of long expansion and dilution, the backbone of the Yasa Empire was now mostly made up of mixed-bloods and immigrants—in other words, the added legacy of those Yasa whose partners came from other star systems.

They did not have the concept of destiny, and their views on marriage and romance were closer to the mainstream of the Universal Alliance.

No one disliked good-looking people.

Of course, every race’s sense of beauty would more or less differ. No one knew whether it was because some kinds of beauty transcended star systems, or because Lin Zhao just happened to hit the mainstream aesthetic point of the Yasa. In short, a pile of enthusiastic netizens actively rushed into the comment section. Some called him husband, some called him wife. If this were in China, among the top comments with the most likes, there would probably also be a meme image saying, “The emperor rests his chin on his hand and asks: Is this one new? Why has Zhen never seen him before?”

That day, Adjutant Carlos was, for once, rarely—not—bent over his desk and working seriously, when a shared light screen was flung over with a swish. The expressionless Prince looked at it with dead eyes, as though he were looking at an assassination list.

“What is the public opinion department doing?”

The adjutant, who had always been very good at guessing his superior’s intentions, was also rendered unable to answer. Only after a long while did he slowly type out a question mark.

What do you want the public opinion department to do?

How could they just casually call someone husband or wife like that? It was not dignified at all!

From the perspective of a good friend, Mr. Carlos was now only curious about one thing. “When did you join the ranks of feudal remnants? The previous dynasty has been dead for tens of thousands of years. You know that, right?”

Reinhardt: “…”

Of course, from the perspective of a corporate slave, Executive Officer Carlos still did one humane thing. He asked, “Do you need me to find all his information for you within ten minutes?”

“Casually abusing your authority to investigate someone else’s privacy is illegal. You know that, right?” His Highness Reinhardt said with a darkened face.

Then he waited for a while and could not help asking, “Can you really find out where he is?”

“I can’t. His IP is unknown, which means either he’s in an inferior star system extremely remote from the Universal Alliance, where he can only access the internet through an anonymous optical computer from the black market, or he’s in one of those double-digit pending-evolution zones that haven’t yet advanced into the Universal Alliance. I was just saying the standard line, my friend. You really should watch more CEO dramas.” After all, his omega wife loved them. Adjutant Carlos had no idea how many of them he had watched with his wife during holidays.

The answer this all-purpose special assistant received was the prince’s straight and upright back, as well as one cold and merciless sentence:

“I will tell your wife that you secretly watched the finale of Love Comes Tonight on the starship without waiting for him.”

“!!!”

At the same time, on Blue Star, in China, before 1114 could fantasize about a beautiful future of livestream selling—1114: Even if each fan only spends one transaction point, one, ten, hundred, thousand… with this many fans, wouldn’t we be rich?—Lin Zhao first poured a basin of cold water over it.

Stopping for a good-looking person, casually clicking a like, and being able to convert that into followers were two completely different things. Lin Zhao used to work in the internet industry and understood this far too well. For a new account, one accidental explosive set of data was only false prosperity.

1114 did not listen and only kept showing off the gift tips it had received, saying, “This gift exhibition hall resets once a week.”

“Once a week?” Qin Xiaoman had never passed math back when he was in school, but now his brain had already started spinning at high speed. “In other words, if this anonymous big brother at the top of the ranking is still interested in continuing to send gifts later, then Linzi’s monthly salary will be today’s received number multiplied by four?”

Even after deducting the platform’s commission and taxes, this monthly salary was still very considerable.

Very, very considerable.

“Foster father! When you become rich and noble, don’t forget me!” Qin Xiaoman, who had spent his whole life hoping his friend could make a fortune, discovered that his wish seemed, possibly, probably about to come true.

Then the foster father who had earned money treated the whole company—fine, in reality, it was only him and Qin Xiaoman, two living people, plus 1114, which could not eat and mainly provided companionship—to a hotpot meal.

Jiangzuo had officially entered the coldest part of winter. Although the temperature was still in the teens above zero, and snow could not be seen at all, somehow this weather just felt like it called for a steaming hot clay-pot meal. A clay stove with red charcoal, slow cooking over a gentle fire. It had to be Qingyuan free-range chicken. It had to be beef balls beaten thousands upon thousands of times. Add in a fresh, beautiful broth carefully simmered from pork bones, goji berries, and dried scallops—there would never be anything more delicious than this. No debate accepted.

That night, they ate until they nearly got dizzy from the charcoal before barely dispersing.

And when Lin Zhao opened his eyes the next day…

Lighting up the exhibition hall had turned into maxing out the exhibition hall.

There was only one character of difference between “lit up” and “maxed out,” but the gap in money was a full three to four times. Lighting it up meant turning every icon bright once. Maxing it out meant repeating that entire process at least two or three more rounds. The total amount of tips Lin Zhao received had directly gained another digit.

And this was only one week’s worth of money.

“No wonder all the good-looking people are flooding into the livestreaming market now.” Lin Zhao analyzed fairly calmly. Back when he was in university and took economics class, he had heard a theory: whichever industry had a large influx of good-looking people was the most profitable blue ocean at that moment.

Earlier, it was aviation. Later, it was the entertainment industry. Now, it was livestreaming.

Truly a summary full of wisdom.

Qin Xiaoman and 1114 had already begun to inflate a little regarding the company’s future. Even without selling goods, just relying on the “boss’s” looks alone could support the entire company. “We must treasure our Gibberish Bro!”

The account that had sent the gifts was a brand-new blank account with nothing attached. Its profile picture was the most basic default registration avatar, and its name was also a string of garbled characters. Its level had previously been Lv1, but after one night, because of the gifts sent to Lin Zhao, it had rapidly become Lv39 and clearly had plans to continue rising. Thus, Qin Xiaoman and 1114 bestowed upon him the name Gibberish Bro.

“Should we do something?”

Lin Zhao nodded, then directly reported the other party’s account to StarNet’s livestream supervisor with one click. The reason he selected was: minor sending gifts.

1114: “…”

Qin Xiaoman: “…”

“How can you tell he’s a minor?”

“Would you release the hawk before seeing the rabbit? Would you casually throw large amounts of money at some good-looking video blogger you saw online, the kind whose livestream you haven’t even watched and with whom you’ve had zero interaction?”

“Have I gone insane?”

“Most importantly, did you see the minor protection marker behind his account?” The Yasa star system was strictly managed, and StarNet was not beyond the law either. Although it would not require everyone to use their real name online, accounts were unique and could be considered semi-real-name internet access. Aside from publicly displaying IP addresses, some basic information was also public.

For example, accounts belonging to minors would have a star symbol behind them.

Lin Zhao had only caught a hurried glance at the electronic agreement when 1114 registered the account. He was not certain what exactly that star symbol looked like, but behind the account of Gibberish Kid Bro, there was indeed a special marker.

So he simply treated him as a minor. Children selling off their grandfather’s fields did not feel heartache, and when they used their parents’ money to tip streamers, they were often the most generous.

But money from minors could not be taken. After telling 1114 to keep Gibberish Bro’s money untouched so it could later be returned directly and intact to the person’s parents, Lin Zhao went to handle Qin Xiaoman’s matters.

After all, Qin Xiaoman could now be considered officially starting a business with Lin Zhao, so many things had to be made clear in advance.

In the end, Qin Xiaoman and 1114 had already negotiated salary and commission, and had even solemnly signed an electronic contract. They were even preparing to pay social insurance. Lin Zhao had not participated in the entire process, except for the part requiring an electronic signature, because he had woken up far too late. Early-rising species like 1114 and Qin Xiaoman had already settled everything before he opened his eyes. They only needed him to sign.

If not for privacy protection, 1114 could even have imitated Lin Zhao’s handwriting and signed for him.

“When did I get an electronic trading company?” Lin Zhao was shocked.

“From the very beginning. We’re proper foreign trade, not cross-border bandits.” The law-abiding 1114 once again gave Lin Zhao a small shock.

Lin Zhao finally remembered that at the very beginning, when he had been exhausted from being bothered by 1114, he did seem to have signed some things. In the future, he really needed to pay more attention and could not be so casual again.

“So, my next work arrangement is just to wait for New Year?” Lin Salted Fish visibly became happy, the kind where his clear black-and-white eyes practically glowed.

His Highness Reinhardt, who had finally waited until Lin Zhao reopened the membership function, immediately bought several years’ worth of membership and was only waiting for Lin Zhao to start streaming: ?

Author’s Note:

Nonsense Mini Theater:

Gong: He isn’t making me spin round and round. I just happen to like spinning in circles.

P.S. Reinhardt is not a minor. Lin Zhao misunderstood that icon. 23333

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