"That much?" Even though Brother Ma was used to seeing big money, hearing Zhang Yang open his mouth with a starting sponsorship of one million still caught him off guard.
In the current dostic pay-pond market, offline competition was actually still relatively mild, not as white-hot as it would beco after 2019. As the flagbearer of dostic pay-ponds, Jinghai Garden had already entered the sights of major tackle manufacturers, but everyone still didn't take it seriously enough.
This million-sponsorship plan of Zhang Yang's might have been a spur-of-the-mont idea, but it wasn't so impulsive, consequence-blind shot in the dark either. Now that the first spark of the Yellow Storm bait was lit, he just needed to strike while the iron was hot, line up a series of comrcial promotion events and title sponsorships, and he could blow the product up in one go.
In his previous life, Yellow Storm was a bait produced by Henan Fish Source, a fish-bait manufacturer that had originally been very small. Because of Yellow Storm's brutally strong real-world performance, after about two-plus years of fernting and word of mouth, it gradually beca a phenonon-level bait in the pay-pond market, practically sweeping everything in dostic pay-ponds for a long stretch.
As soone with a cheat, Zhang Yang didn't need to think about risk or the consequences of failure at all.
If so obscure little bait factory could pull that off, with Zhang Yang personally at the controls, the actual results would only be better. Zhang Yang Company currently had both money and people on hand. As long as things were operated properly, promoting a new bait wouldn't need a cycle of two or three years at all. Zhang Yang was confident that as long as things were done his way, in half a year he could sweep the whole country.
Zhang Yang grinned. "Heh, that much? I don't think it's that much. That little yellow-bait factory of Wang Defa's that made a na for itself just by copying and riding trends, they still forked out a few hundred thousand to sponsor this event, right? Our Famous Fishing Tackle Company has been in the ga for a few years already at least. We can afford this level of firepower. Your little brother here has made up his mind to throw so money out there and stir things up. Brother Ma, just tell , are you in or not?"
"Of course I'm in! Sponsorship money coming in, you think I'd push that away? You tell how you want to play it, put together a plan, and within the range of what I can do, I'll fully cooperate with you." Brother Ma was sharp; this type of cooperation was a win–win, there was no reason to refuse.
"Alright! I'll get on the plan once I get back. Oh right, if the trial run goes smoothly, I want to set up a strategic partnership with our fishery. When the ti cos, can you tilt all your signboards and ad-space resources our way a bit? I won't use them for free, I'll pay extra."
"No problem! The pri ad spot in the little square right at the main entrance is yours. You just cover the materials and installation. Other suitable spots—if you've got your eye on any, just tell . As long as they're not already spoken for, everything's negotiable."
"Done! Haha, Brother Ma, you're generous. I originally thought bringing up this kind of cooperation would be pretty sensitive, didn't expect you to be so straightforward. Anyway, I've arranged a celebration banquet tonight. If you and sis-in-law don't have other plans, let's all get together."
"This… alright." Brother Ma hesitated slightly, but after a second's pause he still agreed.
According to the plan, tonight it was supposed to be Wang Defa treating the local angling association folks, with Brother Ma tagging along as a guest. But Wang Defa had bailed before the event even finished and still hadn't shown any sign of life. Brother Ma figured things were probably going south, so he simply accepted Zhang Yang's dinner invitation.
That one second of hesitation already counted as saving Wang Defa so face. Even if there was a scheduling conflict at night, worst case he'd just show his face and leave early. Hopping between tables and making appearances like that was standard practice at adult drinking occasions.
"Then it's settled. I'll text you the ti and place later. I've got to swing back to the hotel now, so I'll head out first. We'll be in touch."
"Not hanging out a bit longer?"
"We'll talk tonight, really sit down and chat! I'm off."
"Alright, take it easy on the road."
…
With the initial intent for a sponsorship deal settled, Zhang Yang walked out of the prefab office and headed straight toward where he'd parked.
Most of the anglers at the fishery had already left; only so staff were still doing the usual cleaning up and such.
Zhang Yang got back into his compact car and drove straight to the hotel.
Back in his own room at the hotel, Zhang Yang finally relaxed the nerves he'd kept taut all day. He glanced at the ti: 3:55 in the afternoon. There were still three hours until the 7 p.m. banquet; subtracting travel ti, he still had at least two hours free.
Zhang Yang decided to take a nap and catch up on so sleep. He pulled out his phone, sent separate ssages on WeChat to Xiaowei and Wang Yan to touch base, set an alarm, then lay down on the bed and fell into a deep sleep without even taking off his clothes.
For an adult, the decline in physical condition is a subtle, gradual process. Although in the past two years Zhang Yang had been much more self-disciplined than the average person, all sorts of petty obligations still inevitably took a toll on his body.
Two straight days of high-intensity battle had pushed Zhang Yang into overdrive in a short span. Once he got back to the room where he was staying, all that fatigue and drowsiness hit him like a wave.
It wasn't exactly a restful sleep. He was clearly exhausted, sleepy, and worn out, yet he never really entered deep sleep. It felt like watching a slideshow in his mind; all kinds of mottled, fragnted images flashed past, leaving him unable to tell which were mories from his previous life and which were experiences from this one.
The two hours flew by. Woken by the alarm on his phone, Zhang Yang groggily crawled up from the bed, his head still a bit fuzzy.
User Comments
0 comments from readers