Chapter 157

Wei Sheng was going to personally livestream and promote their niche brand of sanitary pads?

When the brand’s founder heard the news, even she couldn’t believe it. Was she dreaming?

When Jiang Xinyue founded “Xinyue Jiaren,” her goal was to create a reliable, affordable niche sanitary pad brand. She cut out the costs of hiring spokespeople and running ads, instead relying on the sales channels her parents had built over the years to reduce distribution expenses.

This way, even if they made a little less profit, more “girls from the slums” could afford to deal with “those few days of the month” without breaking the bank.

After all, she used to buy those big-name pads herself. Some cost over two yuan apiece, and during heavy days… well, sometimes she’d go through more than ten yuan in a single day.

Back home, she never thought much of it. But once she went away for college and had to live on just a thousand yuan a month, spending over a hundred of that on sanitary pads really hurt.

It wasn’t that Jiang Xinyue lacked confidence in her product. In fact, ever since they launched the brand, her whole team had switched to using their own products. For something so personal, only by using it themselves could they truly know what needed improvement. If they felt safe using it, they could speak with conviction when answering customer questions.

But—sigh—Jiang Xinyue wasn’t just the founder of “Xinyue Jiaren.” She was also a longtime fan of Wei Sheng. She’d fallen for him back when he was filming and livestreaming in Houzhai Village. When Wei Sheng’s livestream company was selecting products to feature, her fellow fans had encouraged her to apply. What if she got selected? Wouldn’t that mean she might get to sit in a meeting with Wei Sheng? Maybe even get his “autograph” on a contract?

That thought had her fangirl instincts kicking in. In a moment of excitement, she submitted her product.

Later, she started to regret it. Calling their brand “niche” was putting it nicely—some would just call it a no-name knockoff. Someone like Wei Sheng, who cared so much about his reputation, would probably stick with the big-name brands, right? They were safer, after all.

Who would’ve thought she’d actually get picked?

Even though theirs wasn’t the only brand in the category, just getting into a livestream under Wei Sheng’s company was enough to make her ecstatic—even if he wasn’t hosting it himself.

But then came an even bigger surprise: Wei Sheng was going to personally promote their product?

“No slotting fee? No commission? He wants us to put all that money into discounts and give viewers the lowest possible price?”

When she heard the terms, Jiang Xinyue was even more anxious than Zhou Mingxing, his agent.

“That’s not right! Isn’t Wei Sheng working all night for free then?” Now she really regretted it.

She hadn’t been much of a fangirl before. It was only after falling for Wei Sheng that she got into the fandom world. That’s when she learned how important “commercial value” was to a celebrity.

If Wei Sheng didn’t charge even a cent for this, wouldn’t other brands try to lowball him in the future?

“Don’t worry, he won’t be working for nothing. Teacher Wei’s livestream this time isn’t about making money,” his assistant Xiao Bai reassured her. He also asked for her address, since the livestream would include a giveaway of twenty autographed photos of Wei Sheng, which needed to be sent to the partner brands in advance.

When he heard that Jiang Xinyue was a fan herself, Xiao Bai even prepared a special gift just for her. It wasn’t just a single signed photo, but a whole set of promotional pictures Wei Sheng had taken for the New Year last year, all autographed.

The moment Jiang Xinyue received the package, she almost lost it. She felt like nowhere was safe enough to keep them. She stared at the photos for a long time, then quietly stashed them in the safe in her office.

She had wanted to post about it on her social media to show off, but then she remembered—her mom was also a fan of Wei Sheng. If her mom found out she had that many autographed photos, she’d definitely demand half.

Forget it. Some joys are best kept to yourself. No need to go public. Besides, not everyone would genuinely be happy for you.

When word got out that Wei Sheng was going to promote a no-name sanitary pad brand in a livestream, Zhou Mingxing, having learned his lesson, didn’t immediately blow up this time. He knew Wei Sheng had a clear vision for his future, including his commercial value. And judging from some of his recent moves, Zhou Mingxing had a pretty good idea of what he was planning.

“I knew you’d come to ask me,” Wei Sheng said with a smile, pouring him a cup of citrus tea, a local specialty from Nine-Bend Slope. He slowly began to explain his plan.

He knew he’d risen to fame too quickly these past couple of years, stepping on some toes along the way. The online smear campaigns were just the beginning. The real battle would be in the high-end resource market, and that was only just starting.

Back when they were backed by the J Province TV Station, a state-run entity, no one could really block him from accessing Main-theme resources. The station wasn’t easy to mess with.

But things were different now. They’d left to go independent with Zhou Mingxing, completely burning bridges with their former employer. The fact that the station hadn’t publicly torn them apart was already a mercy. There was no way it would keep acting as their shield.

“So you’re planning to give up on Main-theme resources?” Zhou Mingxing frowned.

“Of course not. I call this ‘surrounding the cities from the countryside’! They want to hold onto the Main-theme sector and keep outsiders out? Fine, let them. I’ll take control of the rural market first.”

“Pfft—how many people in the countryside are even into celebrity culture?” Zhou Mingxing said, though his expression showed no real displeasure.

Wei Sheng knew it. Old Zhou, that crafty fox, had probably been eyeing the rural market just like he had.

“What’s wrong with the countryside? Our farmers have power! And besides, what really counts as ‘Main-theme’? I’d argue that the majority of the population—that’s the real Main-theme! Go outside and ask any regular folks around here. Pick any so-called Main-theme blockbuster released this year and ask them whether they’ve seen that, or if they’ve seen ‘Tunnel Warfare’ or ‘Little Soldier Zhang Ga’?”

Zhou Mingxing’s face darkened. Did that even need to be asked?

Wait a minute—how had this kid managed to steer the conversation again?

“Forget it, let’s not argue. Just make sure you’ve thought this through. If you really go down this path, you might not land any major brand deals for the next ten years. That includes Main-theme film roles too.”

“You say the rural market is big, and I agree with that. But major brands chase high profits. They’re not going to waste money advertising in the countryside. By taking this step, you’re basically dragging your image down to the level of the urban-rural fringe…” Zhou Mingxing still felt that Wei Sheng was making a risky move.

He had a rough idea of what Wei Sheng was trying to do. Whether it was opening a rustic-style restaurant or livestreaming to sell sanitary pads, it all pointed to one thing: Wei Sheng was deliberately stepping away from the cutthroat competition for mainstream entertainment resources.

To put it bluntly, Wei Sheng was sending a clear message to his rivals: I’m done playing your game. Go find someone else to smear.

And the effect was immediate. On Zhou Mingxing’s end, major brands looking to sign Wei Sheng as a spokesperson had suddenly dropped off. Even the smear campaigns against him had noticeably died down… But the real kicker? Wei Sheng was making more money than ever.

Zhou Mingxing’s heart skipped a beat. He got it now.

This guy…

He’s sharp as a tack!

Sure, he had fewer big-name endorsements and less access to mainstream film and TV resources, but his web dramas were taking off!

And now that he was tapping into the lower-tier markets, a lot of national brands from fourth-tier cities had started reaching out. They didn’t dare ask directly about Wei Sheng’s endorsement fees—probably afraid they couldn’t afford him—so instead, they inquired about product placement rates in his web dramas.

So in the end, Wei Sheng wasn’t trying to build up his personal brand value at all.

He was building the commercial value of his own company.

No wonder he wasn’t the least bit worried about losing big-name endorsements. Those brands were never his target clients to begin with.

“Keep it low-key! Low-key! Make money quietly, no need to brag!” Wei Sheng nudged his agent with his shoulder, smugly reminding him that now that he’d given up the mid-to-high-end market, they should push Junior Disciple Brother to take over that space. No need to hand it over to outsiders!

With a face like Xiang Lei’s, it would be a crime not to have him in the high-end business scene!

“You’re really willing to give it up?” Zhou Mingxing shot him a sideways glance. “Let me tell you, once you lose these resources, you might never get them back.”

“What’s there to be unwilling about? We’re all on the same team! Besides, I’ve got shares in our company. The more Xiang Lei earns, the bigger my year-end bonus. I’d love for him to take over all the endorsements I’ve dropped.”

That was Wei Sheng’s real plan.

He never entered the entertainment industry to get famous, or to cash in on popularity.

He preferred being the boss over being a star.

His rivals all looked down on the rural, lower-tier markets. And Wei Sheng could understand that. From a celebrity’s perspective, places where big-name advertisers don’t even bother to go aren’t worth developing.

But from a business owner’s point of view, any place that can generate profit is worth exploring.

Besides, his contract with Retracing the Path of Poverty Alleviation was ending two years after filming wrapped. But he still wanted to continue doing poverty alleviation work.

Just because he wasn’t a civil servant or part of the government system, did that mean he couldn’t participate in rural revitalization or agricultural support?

Not necessarily. Wei Sheng quickly found a new path for himself—he decided to go into business directly with farmers.

Whether it was livestreaming affordable, rural-market-friendly products, or helping farmers promote unsold crops, all of it could be integrated into his web dramas and short videos. In this era of booming self-media, it wasn’t just mainstream media programs that could attract public attention.

So they wouldn’t let him appear on main-theme poverty alleviation shows?

Fine. He’d make his own.

They had the money to invest. As for the scripts—wasn’t Teacher Wang Wu still around? Ahem!

Zhou Mingxing glanced at him, let out a heavy sigh, patted Wei Sheng on the shoulder, and went back to his room to sleep.

Some things didn’t need to be said out loud. They were both smart men. Zhou Mingxing knew that Wei Sheng stepping back like this was also his way of easing the burden on him.

Lately, with the contract termination drama, Zhou Mingxing had been under immense pressure. Many of the high-end business collaborations they’d previously negotiated suddenly fell through.

The polite ones said their leadership needed more time to consider. The blunt ones just told him they’d already picked someone else and maybe they could work together next time… In order to preserve the business and film resources that could elevate Wei Sheng’s image, Zhou Mingxing had been networking non-stop.

But Wei Sheng was no longer just an artist. He was now a company partner. Some things couldn’t be hidden from him.

This guy! No wonder people liked him so much!

People have feelings. With Wei Sheng being so considerate, how could Zhou Mingxing not be moved?

Because the new company had so much going on, Zhou Mingxing only stayed with the crew for one night before rushing off again. The next day, Wei Sheng spent the morning reading scripts, the afternoon coordinating with the livestream team, and at 8 p.m., the newly revamped “Weekend Flash Sale” officially went live!

Though it was technically a sales livestream, Wei Sheng’s real goal was to turn the whole livestream room into a “Pinduoduo-style” flash sale for niche brands.

He wasn’t afraid of offending big-name brands (he’d already lost most of those partnerships anyway). He brought out two co-hosts first, who, from the perspective of everyday folks, complained about how expensive it had become for women to go through their period. Then, with a smooth segue, they introduced the sanitary pads from the niche brand Xinyue Jiaren.

What Jiang Xinyue hadn’t expected was that, aside from her brand’s sanitary pads, the livestream also featured a number of recognizable national brands—instant noodles, shampoo, aged vinegar—all everyday essentials for regular households.

And Wei Sheng didn’t use bargain-basement pricing as a gimmick. After all, when regular folks shop at supermarkets, they compare prices too, and wait for discounts before buying.

But supermarket clearance sales usually feature near-expiry products. The items in the livestream were priced similarly to supermarket discounts, but they were fresh and new—something Wei Sheng had negotiated in advance with the brands. This livestream wasn’t just for him. It was also a chance for the company’s other streamers to start branching out. A small portion would continue down the brand-name route, while the rest would target the lower-tier markets.

That night, fans tuned in right on time, their mood as heavy as if they were attending a funeral.

They didn’t need haters to mock them anymore. They could already guess that things probably weren’t going well for Wei Sheng. Even though he had more endorsements than before, their prestige had clearly dropped, and many were brands they’d never even heard of…

Could it be that the haters were right? That after leaving the protection of the TV station, Wei Sheng really couldn’t survive in this industry?

“Pfft! Who cares about which ‘industry’? Wherever Wei Sheng goes, I’ll follow!”

“Exactly! Worst case, from now on we’ll just buy all our household stuff from the livestream. We were buying online anyway.”

“Even though I’m a guy and don’t use sanitary pads, who cares? I heard they’re great as shoe insoles too?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Especially during military training or outdoor activities—stick one inside your shoe, it’s super comfortable! Trust me, you’ll come back and thank me later.”

A bunch of people in the fan group were hyping up Wei Sheng’s livestream, trying to boost its popularity, as if they could already see the haters mocking poor viewership numbers.

But in reality, the first batch of 5,000 boxes of “Xinyue Jiaren” sanitary pads sold out in less than a minute.

The fans: “…”

“Did any of you manage to get one?”

“Nope, I was still reading the product description. I mean, it’s something that goes on your body, I was worried about allergies.”

“I didn’t get one either.”

So… who exactly bought all 5,000 orders?

The fans frantically tagged each other in the group chat, trying to figure out how many people had actually snagged a box from the first batch. But after tallying up across several large fan groups, they realized—less than a thousand fans had managed to get one!

Which meant the vast majority of the first batch had been bought by regular viewers?

“This is amazing! Our Teacher Wei isn’t flopping!” The fans were overjoyed.

Still, so many non-fans buying without even asking questions… could it be that this “Xinyue Jiaren” brand was actually that good?

Soon, a usually quiet fan popped up to explain—

“Oh my god! I switched accounts and managed to grab two boxes! One for me, one for my sister. I only realized during the livestream that Wei Sheng was promoting Xinyue’s sanitary pads this time. Let me tell you, this brand is amazing!”

Turns out, this fan normally works on a garment factory assembly line, sitting for at least ten hours a day. Most of the time it’s fine, but during her period, it’s absolute torture.

“I used to use another brand—I won’t name it, don’t want to attract hate for Wei Sheng—but it was expensive and terrible. The thin ones leaked, the thick ones were so stuffy they left my skin red and raw. Xinyue’s are just the right thickness, and they’re half the price of that other brand. I change them every two hours and don’t even feel bad about it.”

“Oh, and the livestream price is even cheaper than their regular online store. It works out to just over four yuan per pack. Too bad you can only buy once per account. If any of you manage to grab some and don’t want them, let me know! I can resell them at the factory and make enough for a bubble tea or two, haha~”

The other fans: “…”

No wonder she’s a Wei Sheng fan. She’s definitely a die-hard—just as good at making money as he is!

(End of Chapter)

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A Pinduoduo-style flash sale is a social commerce model that combines group-buying with time-sensitive urgency to drive rapid purchases at steep discounts. Users see real-time notifications like “XXX created a shopping group 1 second ago” with countdown timers, creating psychological pressure to buy quickly. Shoppers can either purchase items solo at regular prices or invite friends/family via WeChat to form teams and unlock discounts up to 90%.

The system benefits everyone: concentrated bulk orders let merchants reduce costs and inventory risks while buyers secure extremely low prices through collective purchasing power. The interface resembles a news feed focused on individual viral products rather than multiple listings, making it easier to create instant bestsellers. This “group buying bidding” approach encourages viral sharing—friends invite more friends to lower prices further—creating explosive growth without massive marketing budgets. The model successfully targets price-sensitive consumers in lower-tier cities who prioritize value over brands.