OGP CH56

Three days later, Shi Xiaoyu brought the first draft of Sun Wukong to Xie Yunfan.

The girl was indeed quite talented; her rendition of Sun Wukong was vivid and full of life. Although it didn’t completely match what Xie Yunfan had envisioned, the resemblance in his physique and silhouette had already reached about sixty percent.

Pointing at the sketch, Xie Yunfan said, “The body you drew for Sun Wukong is quite good, but the facial features need to be redrawn. Keep human characteristics around the brows, eyes, nose, and lips, while the rest of the face should be covered with yellow monkey fur. Make the ears slightly more pointed—these ears look a bit too realistic…” He pointed out numerous details that needed tweaking.

Holding her notebook, Shi Xiaoyu listened attentively and took notes. Fortunately, the boss spoke with a gentle tone and hadn’t directly criticized her, which greatly eased her uneasy nerves.

Xie Yunfan said, “Don’t rush. He’s the game’s protagonist, so the details need to be refined repeatedly.”

Shi Xiaoyu nodded. “Understood, I’ll go back and redraw it right away!”

Stepping out of the boss’s office, she took a deep breath and returned to the art department. The moment everyone saw her expression, they knew the draft had been rejected.

Ning Sha patted her shoulder. “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. When our boss makes games, he always strives for perfection. During the drafting phase, there are always numerous revisions, but once the design is finalized, things move fast. He will never make us finish an entire plan only to scrap it and start over from scratch.”

What art teams hated most was having everything scrapped and redone. Revising during the sketch phase was relatively simple. It was only when you had finished the entire piece and colored it completely, only for the boss to casually say, “The art style doesn’t meet expectations, scrap it and start over,” that artists truly suffered breakdowns. At her previous company, Ning Sha had frequently done this kind of pointless busywork; for one NPC, she had drawn seven different versions, only for them to use the first version in the end.

Ever since she started making games with Xie Yunfan, the amount of rework had dropped drastically. Xie Yunfan never made things difficult for the artists. As long as everyone revised the initial character concepts according to his specifications until he was satisfied, subsequent progress would be smooth sailing.

Lacking prior work experience, Shi Xiaoyu finally felt her racing heart settle back into place after hearing Sister Sha’s reassurance. Revitalizing her spirits, she sat down in front of her computer, tapped into her imagination, and began sketching Sun Wukong’s facial features anew.

Across the production team’s workspace on the 18th floor, every office was a hive of activity. The data team was calculating numerical attributes for Sun Wukong, including attack, defense, and HP. The programming team was laying down the core game framework. The writing team’s story had progressed to the dialogue among the monkey troops of Huaguo Mountain, while the level design team was busy building the climbing model for the first stage.

Seeing that everyone was focused on their tasks, Xie Yunfan didn’t go in to disturb them. If a boss inspected them every single day, it would only stress the employees out. As long as the requirements were clearly communicated, it was better to let them work first and make adjustments as needed.

He took the elevator up to the 19th floor and entered the network department’s office.

Yu Baichuan was the lead he had selected for the web team. Having built five websites himself, he was quite experienced. At the time of hiring, Xie Yunfan had instructed HR to hire a professional background-check firm to thoroughly vet him, which had yielded an unexpected discovery. During his interview, Yu Baichuan had casually mentioned that his “parents run a shop.” In reality, his father was the chairman of a renowned domestic automotive enterprise with billions in family assets, running 4S dealerships across the entire country.

After all five of the websites he founded went under, Yu Baichuan had come to join Xie Yunfan. Despite his family’s immense wealth, he never flaunted it at work, driving a car that cost barely over a hundred thousand yuan. He was an absolute social butterfly, and within just a few days, he had already bonded closely with all his colleagues in the web team.

When Xie Yunfan walked into the office, Yu Baichuan was chatting with his colleagues. Seeing him enter, he immediately greeted him, “Boss, I’ve put together a framework template for the website. Would you like to take a look?”

Xie Yunfan leaned in to check it out and said, “Add official websites and forums for each individual game. From Yangfan Studio’s homepage, players should be able to navigate directly to the dedicated hubs for all the games we produce in the future. Place the download links in prominent spots on the main page, and categorize the merchandise store by game as well.”

Yu Baichuan froze for a second—the boss’s ambitions were pretty grand, weren’t they? The kind of official portal he was describing was virtually modeled after tier-one industry giants with massive game libraries, like Wings of Dream and Cool Play.

In the future, when players visited Yangfan Studio’s portal, they could seamlessly hop directly to the official subsites for Underworld Maze, Soul of Music, Journey to the West, and every other upcoming title. Game downloads could also be handled directly through their site. Since they operated the official website themselves, players downloading games from it meant they wouldn’t have to pay platform commission cuts to Mobile Home. Later on, as the studio’s reputation grew, the different titles could drive cross-traffic to one another… players could even top up accounts, spend money, and purchase merchandise directly on the site. That way, 100% of the money players spent would go straight into Yangfan Studio’s pockets.

He hadn’t anticipated that the boss wasn’t aiming for a modest boutique studio website, but rather benchmarked against tier-one publishers to build a massive, integrated gaming portal. As someone who loved web development, Yu Baichuan felt an immediate rush of excitement. With more and more games on the horizon, wouldn’t that mean he’d get to build more and more websites?

Yu Baichuan said excitedly, “Got it! We’ll feature every game, using the homepage as the central hub with direct links to each game’s official subsite. Game archives, lore, world-building, and character profiles will all be hosted there as well, right?”

Xie Yunfan said, “Exactly. Our next game, Journey to the West, will offer download channels directly on the official site. Can you have these sites designed before June?”

Yu Baichuan nodded eagerly. “I’ll get right on it! I’ll put together an internal beta version for you to review first.”

Xie Yunfan explained the desired aesthetic in detail: avoid gaudy, overly ornate designs in favor of clean, intuitive navigation bars, while tailoring the theme of each game’s subsite to its unique character. For instance, Underworld Maze‘s site should feature an eerie, red-and-black horror aesthetic; Soul of Music‘s subsite should embody the refreshing elegance of flowing streams and misty peaks; while Journey to the West‘s site should channel an explosive, hot-blooded national comic vibe, greeting visitors with the majestic presence of the Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

With Yangfan Studio set to release more and more titles, establishing their own official web portal was an urgent priority.

Next door in the marketing department, since the marketing manager wouldn’t arrive until June, the few current employees had some background in merchandise development and market analysis. Xie Yunfan instructed them to focus first on designing merchandise for Soul of Music, producing items like card sleeves and bookmarks featuring the musical instrument compendium. Once Journey to the West hit the market, his older brother, Xie Xinghe, would return from Qihang to formally take charge of these departments, at which point they would dedicate serious effort to crafting figurines of the Monkey King.

Xie Yunfan returned to his office.

That afternoon, Ling Xiao brought two budget proposals for him to review. “Boss, these are the quotes provided by two animation studios. Octopus Animation is a well-known industry veteran that has produced cinematic CG for many games. The other, Color Pictures, was founded two years ago, and their only notable work is Happy Zoo. Take a look.”

Both companies were based locally in Rong City. Octopus Animation was renowned for delivering massive hits and frequently collaborated with gaming firms on cinematic trailers. However, beyond game CG, they also acquired IPs to produce their own animated series. Currently, they were serializing a weekly big-budget animation slated to span three seasons. If Yangfan partnered with them, they definitely wouldn’t be able to devote their full attention to Journey to the West, raising the risk of production delays.

The other studio had little brand recognition and no track record in video game animation. However, Xie Yunfan had watched their previous work and found the quality remarkable. As an early-stage startup, they clearly lacked resources, which reflected in their modest budget proposal—and made them far more earnest about collaborating with Xie Yunfan.

After thinking it over, Xie Yunfan said, “Set up a meeting with the owner of Color Pictures. Let’s find time to sit down together this week.”

The following afternoon, Xie Yunfan, accompanied by Ling Xiao and Liu Muyao, arrived at a well-known restaurant in Rong City to meet Liang Anwei, the founder of Color Pictures.

Liang Anwei was twenty-seven years old, wore glasses, and appeared refined and handsome. He had founded the company right after graduating with a degree in animation production. Operating for only two years, the studio had little name recognition in the industry, but their animated project from the previous year had showcased solid craftsmanship and scored high ratings on video platforms. Xie Yunfan had specifically taken note of their raw potential.

The two shook hands. Xie Yunfan said with a warm smile, “President Liang, Yangfan Studio is very sincere about partnering with you. I’ve reviewed your budget proposal, and regarding the pricing…”

Assuming he found the quote too expensive, Liang Anwei immediately interjected, “This is our company’s first time venturing into game animation, so the price is entirely negotiable. We’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied.”

Xie Yunfan said, “What I meant is that your quote is a bit too low. I can actually increase the budget on our end.”

Liang Anwei was stunned. “??”

Weren’t clients supposed to negotiate prices down? How was a paying client offering to hike up the price instead?

Xie Yunfan continued, “Our animations won’t just be standard opening cinematics and cutscenes; we want a complete, episodic animated series produced to the standards of premium, paid commercial animation. We want your team to deliver its highest possible level of production quality.”

Such demanding standards for in-game animation? These folks were extraordinarily willing to throw money around! Liang Anwei was genuinely astonished.

However, as the contractor, there was no need to question the client’s creative demands. He immediately nodded and said, “Understood. However, if we produce it to the standards of premium paid animation, the price will have to double.”

Xie Yunfan replied, “As long as the production is exquisite and meets my requirements, money is not an issue.”

Hearing this, Liang Anwei was overjoyed. He never imagined encountering such a delightfully generous client who could say “money is not an issue” with a straight face. For an early-stage startup like his, money was the one thing they lacked most! They had the technical chops to create top-tier animation, but lacked the capital to acquire major IPs. Although their original animated series had garnered critical acclaim, its niche audience meant it had barely generated any profit. Collaborating with Yangfan Studio on video game animation might just be the breakthrough they needed to establish their reputation in the industry.

Liang Anwei asked, “So whenever players clear certain dungeons or complete specific quests, an animated story segment will unlock, and strung together, they form a cohesive narrative… Am I understanding that correctly?”

Xie Yunfan smiled. “Precisely. The game is still in development, so you can treat this like a serialized animated show that progresses in tandem with our game releases. The full series will likely take about half a year to wrap up.”

Serializing an animation in lockstep with game updates? Liang Anwei had never heard of such an operational model before—it was remarkably fresh! Every prior title from Yangfan Studio had been a runaway hit. If this new game blew up as well, wouldn’t it propel the animation into the spotlight alongside it? For a fledgling animation studio, this was an invaluable opportunity.

After a moment’s consideration, Liang Anwei offered decisively, “How about this: provide us with the script, and we’ll produce an opening animation of a few minutes for you to evaluate against your standards. An animation serialized across six months is a massive undertaking, after all. Once we lock down the art style, we can meticulously finalize the budget and sign the contract.” He paused and emphasized earnestly, “I can guarantee that over the next six months, our studio will pour one hundred percent of our energy into your game’s animation, pursuing excellence down to every frame!”

Xie Yunfan smiled warmly. “Splendid. I’ll advance a deposit so your team can begin work on the opening animation, and we can sign the formal contract afterward. Here’s to a fruitful collaboration.”

On the drive back, Ling Xiao couldn’t help but ask, “Boss, if we make the game’s animation to the standards of premium paid cartoons, the costs will double. How do you plan to structure the game’s pricing down the line?”

In this alternate world, copyright protection was strictly enforced, and pay-to-watch models for animated shows were mature and ubiquitous. Aside from free educational cartoons, children’s televisions required payment to view any story-driven animated series. Logically speaking, Journey to the West combined both gameplay and animation, delivering richer content that justified a premium price tag. At its core, however, it was still a video game. If a single-player game charged an outrageous price, players would tear it apart with criticism.

Xie Yunfan pondered for a moment before replying, “For our first chapter, all seven levels will be offered as a free trial. We’ll monitor the download figures before deciding on the pricing for subsequent chapters.”

If downloads were high and the player base was massive, keeping prices modest would help promote the game further. But if the player base remained small, the project stood a high chance of losing money. In truth, Xie Yunfan’s gamble was substantial. Yet his goal in game development had never been purely about turning a profit. Even if this game flopped financially, Ghost Realm provided a steady safety net, ensuring the studio wouldn’t go bankrupt.

Ling Xiao remained deeply skeptical of her boss’s approach. In her view, in-game cutscenes just needed to be passable; there was truly no need to craft a full serialized animation series… Who would even watch it? Most gamers routinely hit “Skip” the second a story cutscene appeared! The boss was taking on a thankless, grueling task. Was it out of some sort of nostalgic “passion”? She simply couldn’t fathom why any business owner would willfully pursue an unprofitable venture.

People of this world indeed could not fathom Xie Yunfan’s deep-seated passion. If he merely glossed over the story, he wouldn’t be able to showcase the true essence of Journey to the West. That was precisely why he was dead-set on creating a masterclass animation. He wanted to give the children of this alternate world a complete, legendary childhood hero.

Nobody watches in-game story animations? Perhaps for most games, players did instinctively hit skip. But Journey to the West was different. As long as it was crafted with excellence, countless people would boot up the game specifically to watch it. In the future, video platforms like ACFun would undoubtedly see trending fan edits titled “Journey to the West Story Cutscenes.” That alone would serve as powerful organic marketing for the game.

After returning home that evening, Xie Yunfan sent a message to Luo Hang: “President Luo, just inquiring—how was the gross revenue from the recent Ghost Marriage event in Ghost Realm?~”

Luo Hang responded, “Running short on cash for game development?”

Xie Yunfan: “…”

He had only asked casually; how was he seen through instantly? Xie Yunfan rarely inquired about revenue under normal circumstances, so the moment Luo Hang saw the text, he deduced that his friend’s upcoming game must be requiring a hefty budget.

Luo Hang said, “I’ll have finance expedite your settlement. The February Ghost Marriage event pulled in 200 million in gross revenue. Factoring in tens of millions in merchandise profits plus the Q1 overseas earnings, I’ll have the full sum wired over together.”

A wave of relief washed over Xie Yunfan. “Thank you, President Luo!”

Luo Hang asked, “When do you plan to launch the new game?”

Xie Yunfan: “When does Combat Master launch on your end?”

Sharing an unspoken wavelength, both sent their messages almost at the exact same moment.

Luo Hang chuckled softly. Evidently, Yunfan also wanted to stagger their launch dates to prevent their titles from clashing head-to-head. Although one was a holographic game and the other a mobile title, their target player bases overlapped considerably. Cannibalizing each other during the same release window would benefit neither side.

Luo Hang answered directly, “Combat Master‘s development is nearing its final stages. It’s slated for release on May Day. Once that’s done, I’ll send your older brother back to lend you a hand.”

Xie Yunfan: “That’s wonderful! We’re still hammering out the core designs on my end, so the earliest we can hit the market is late June.”

Luo Hang smiled and replied, “Great. Then I’ll look forward to seeing your new game in June.”