For the male lead’s birthday in an otome game, wealthy female players across the entire country began pulling off wild stunts.

Some purchased expensive promotional video slots on landmark giant screens within the capital’s most affluent CBD. Others organized a massive, night-long “Light Show” along the riverbanks of Changsha. Any passerby walking along the river could see a synchronized light display wrapping around multiple skyscrapers, cycling a single, vibrant sentence: “Happy Birthday, Ling Yue.”

In various cities, players even organized massive offline gatherings. They bought birthday cakes decorated with custom illustrations of Ling Yue’s face, meticulously inscribed with “Happy Birthday.” The girls celebrated their “husband’s” special day in a warm, festive atmosphere, sharing joyful group photos all over social media.

Seeing thousands of players collectively calling a virtual character their husband, yet getting along so harmoniously during offline meetups—completely free of toxic rivalry, and instead warmly referring to each other as “sisters” or “fellow fans”—left a crowd of traditional game designers utterly bewildered.

“I just don’t get it,” one developer muttered. “They are literally sharing a boyfriend, but they behave like best friends?”

Meanwhile, the sheer volume of secondary creative works within the Weibo community hub reached astronomical numbers.

“Ling Yue Birthday Tribute Story: ‘Every Single Day with You’!”

“Happy Birthday, Ling Yue! Just a few chibi avatars I drew, feel free to use them, ladies~”

“Sketched a birthday tribute illustration. This time, it’s Brother Yue clad in vibrant crimson robes!”

“Ling Yue fan-fiction novel now serializing, please come check it out…”

The staggering avalanche of creative fan works was dizzying. There was simply too much to consume!

Industry peers collectively looked like country bumpkins witnessing high society for the first time. Are these players truly insane? Celebrating a fictional game character’s birthday by deploying the exact marketing machinery used by entertainment idol fandoms? Massive digital billboards, metropolitan light shows, and nationwide offline meetups—this level of engagement had never occurred in the history of the domestic gaming industry.

What kind of cosmic sorcery did these male leads possess to cast such a potent spell over their player base?

That Tuesday morning, Marketing Manager Song Qian knocked on the door to Xie Yunfan’s office. He had finalized the comprehensive merchandise development roadmap and brought along physical prototypes from the first production run for the boss to inspect.

Song Qian’s market intuition was incredibly sharp, and he possessed a remarkable talent for merchandise development. Back when they launched the Monkey King figurine, its sales volume had broken global industry records. For Millennium Love, the items he designed were exceptionally beautiful and practical.

First were the chibi-style acrylic refrigerator magnets of the four male leads, crafted with a profoundly adorable aesthetic.

Next were the hollowed-out metallic bookmarks. Song Qian had utilized distinct thematic colors to represent each character: radiant gold for Qin Zhou, serene jade green for Ye Qinghe, sleek silver-gray for Ling Yue, and striking crimson for Situ Yu. Every piece was immaculately detailed, employing a premium silver-plating technique over high-grade metal, making the complete set highly collectible.

Beside those lay plush character throw pillows. The inner cores were stuffed with premium pure cotton, enveloped in a custom, ultra-soft fabric that felt incredibly comforting to hold.

He also showcased fluid quicksand display stands. These pieces integrated iconic character splash art into specialized, layered backgrounds. With a gentle tilt, an ocean of fine, shimmering sand would drift gracefully across the display, creating a mesmerizing visual effect.

Finally, he had selected a handful of universally praised card illustrations to print as high-quality postcards. He intended to introduce these as complimentary bonuses for a “Gifts with Purchase” campaign. Even as free giveaways, the craftsmanship was entirely uncompromising; the postcards were printed on expensive, textured specialty paper that felt exquisitely delicate to the touch.

Xie Yunfan nodded with deep satisfaction. “Exceptional work. Let’s greenlight this exact lineup for our initial merchandise launch.”

Receiving his boss’s enthusiastic approval put Song Qian in high spirits. Adjusting his glasses, he asked earnestly, “Boss, are we considering any brand collaboration campaigns for this title?”

Xie Yunfan leaned back. “What ideas do you have in mind?”

“Our previous stationery collaboration for the Journey to the West series was incredibly successful,” Song Qian explained. “The manufacturing partner actually reached out to us proactively, expressing a strong desire to establish a new stationery line for Millennium Love. Given that our player base is overwhelmingly female—consisting heavily of college students and working professionals—stationery is an item they utilize daily.”

Xie Yunfan nodded thoughtfully. “The Journey to the West line was explicitly tailored toward the aesthetic preferences of primary and middle school students. If we proceed with a stationery collaboration this time, we should completely realign the design language to match the elegant, mature tastes of adult women.”

“Exactly,” Song Qian agreed. “I intend to focus heavily on elegant file folders, professional journals, custom bullet journals, and premium gel pens—items perfectly suited for university campuses and corporate workspaces.”

“A brilliant angle,” Xie Yunfan praised.

Song Qian pressed on, his eyes gleaming. “Additionally, I believe we should venture into a luxury fragrance collaboration.”

Xie Yunfan raised an eyebrow. “Character-inspired perfumes?”

“Yes! In our lore, Ye Qinghe carries a distinctive, clean herbal aroma. We can partner with a premium fragrance house to have professional perfumers isolate and recreate that exact scent profile. Players who love Ye Qinghe—especially those who have experienced that clean, comforting scent within the fully immersive holographic capsule—will absolutely buy it without hesitation.”

“We can tailor distinct fragrance profiles for the other male leads based on their core personalities. For example, Qin Zhou possesses a bright, radiant disposition, so we can craft a warm, vibrant citrus-based scent. Ling Yue is naturally taciturn and guarded, which translates perfectly into a crisp, aloof, and distant ‘cold’ fragrance. As for Situ Yu, we can deploy a deeply alluring, exotic, and magnetic floral blend.”

“Beyond fragrances, we can explore various offline lifestyle collaborations over time—things like custom bubble tea campaigns, designer apparel capsule collections, and delicate jewelry lines. The core marketing frameworks are currently being drafted,” Song Qian paused briefly, offering a realistic caveat. “However, executing these premium collaborations will demand a higher upfront R&D investment. The perfume line, in particular, requires hiring top-tier perfumers to custom-blend the formulas.”

Xie Yunfan let out a warm laugh. “Proceed with absolute boldness. Do not worry about capital constraints. I am handing total control of this game’s merchandise ecosystem over to you, and you have my absolute support.”

Song Qian nodded with intense excitement. “Understood! Thank you, Boss!”

In recruiting Song Qian, Xie Yunfan had truly secured a marketing genius.

While the merchandise revenues for their subsequent titles had been stable, Millennium Love was an entirely different beast. Song Qian had clearly smelled the terrifying purchasing power of the female consumer base and custom-tailored every single piece to capture their hearts.

In late November, the first wave of official merchandise launched on the online store.

Within exactly thirty seconds, the entire inventory was wiped clean.

The customer service department was engulfed in absolute chaos as an endless sea of messages flooded their screens:

“Is there any stock left?”

“Why is everything sold out already?!”

The velocity of the sales didn’t just stun industry competitors; it sent shockwaves through the player base itself. Countless players who had hesitated for a mere minute before purchasing found themselves staring at empty shelves, rushing online to vent their shock.

“Sisters, could you please slow down your clicking speeds for just one second?!”

“Holy crap, I genuinely assumed merchandise wouldn’t sell out this fast, but I couldn’t even grab a single piece!”

“My fellow fans possess a terrifyingly stable financial foundation!”

“At this point, I don’t see fellow fans anymore—I only see fierce competitors. Prepare for battle, leave some stock for me!”

The sight of the “Out of Stock” notices drove a massive wave of anxious players to flood Xie Yunfan’s Weibo account, demanding restocks.

“Hurry up and restock the shelves!”

“Yangfan Studio possesses absolutely zero comprehension of our financial power. What is this tiny sliver of inventory supposed to accomplish?”

“@LittleSailBoat, if I don’t manage to secure my husband’s throw pillow, I am going to manifest at the foot of your bed tonight clad in a crimson gown, with my shoes pointing straight at you. You better think carefully about your next move.”

“Count me in. Let’s form a ghost alliance and haunt the developers until they give us our items.”

Xie Yunfan: “…” I appreciate the passion, ladies, but please.

He immediately placed a call down to the marketing department. “The players are practically staging a rebellion under my Weibo posts. Has our entire inventory truly vanished? Expedite the restock process immediately.”

Song Qian, sweating profusely amid the chaos, replied frantically, “I honestly did not anticipate this level of volume, Boss! I am already on the line with the manufacturers—we are expanding the production lines right now!”

The debut merchandise run for Millennium Love shattered every existing speed-of-sale record in the domestic gaming market. The promotional campaign—which offered a complimentary set of character postcards for any single transaction crossing 100 yuan—saw its entire allocation of 100,000 sets completely exhausted on night one.

The character pillows vanished instantly. As for the chibi refrigerator magnets, several passionate players purchased multiple complete sets at once, presumably intending to cover every square inch of their refrigerators with their “husbands'” faces.

Because the aesthetic design of the metallic bookmarks and quicksand stands was so refined and the pricing was remarkably fair, even single-character loyalists couldn’t resist buying out the complete multi-character sets for their private collections.

A single evening of frenzy generated over 10 million yuan in pure merchandise revenue.

The rest of the industry was utterly paralyzed by the data.

Major gaming corporations immediately halted their schedules to conduct post-mortems on Millennium Love. Cool Play went as far as convening a formal corporate summit titled: “Comprehensive Analysis and Strategy Seminar on the Market Value of Female-Oriented Romance Gaming.”

During the summit, Cool Play’s Senior Marketing Director brought up a series of detailed analytical charts, explaining clearly:

“Our flagship title, Mecha Apprentice, is a combat-centric game with a heavy masculine art style. Our internal audits indicate that our player demographic sits at an 8:2 male-to-female ratio, with male users contributing over 80% of our total revenue.”

“For years, our entire organization has operated under the passive assumption that the female market is mathematically negligible, possessing an inherently weak willingness to pay for gaming content. Recent market data proves that we have been trapped inside a deep information cocoon and a profound cognitive bias.”

“Female gamers have never been averse to spending money. The reality is that the games our industry has historically engineered were explicitly built to cater to male desires, offering nothing to capture their interest. The lack of engagement was a failure of our product design, not their purchasing power.”

“The monumental success of Yangfan Studio’s Millennium Love serves as an aggressive wake-up call for the entire market. The financial potential of female gamers vastly exceeds our wildest projections.”

“During the recent birthday campaign, Millennium Love captured the number one spot on the grossing charts across both platforms simultaneously, clearing a single-day revenue of 300 million yuan. Since its public beta launch, the title has amassed over 1 billion yuan in total revenue. Furthermore, on the night their first official merchandise line went live, they cleared 10 million yuan within minutes, with multiple items selling out in thirty seconds.”

“We must remember that this initial run consisted entirely of low-ticket items. A single refrigerator magnet costs only a few yuan. Generating over 10 million yuan under a low-ticket pricing structure implies an incredible volume of individual buyers.”

“It means that at least hundreds of thousands of active players possess a friction-free willingness to purchase physical merchandise tied to the IP. As the studio rolls out higher-ticket lifestyle items moving forward, this core consumer base will continue to buy in. The long-term revenue potential is staggering. In simpler terms, Millennium Love can comfortably out-gross the active event revenues of standard titles purely through physical merchandise sales.”

“More importantly, their player retention and user stickiness metrics are exceptionally high. If maintained correctly over a multi-year cycle, this title will function as an effortless, permanent cash cow…”

Listening to the marketing director’s exhaustive breakdown, the game designers in the room maintained incredibly complex expressions. Initially, the general consensus had been to dismiss the title as a niche romance experiment. No one could have anticipated that reality would deliver such a resounding slap to their faces.

The profit margins of an otome game were terrifying.

Furthermore, the user activity metrics of female players were entirely superior to those of traditional male demographics. During content lulls between official story patches, the female player base remained incredibly active, independently generating high-quality fan art, writing serialized novels, and keeping the community vibrant through pure self-entertainment.

They proudly embraced titles like “Mrs. Qin” or “Mrs. Ling,” treating the virtual entities as authentic romantic partners and spending money on them without a single shred of hesitation. The massive volume of high-quality fan fiction and art acted as a powerful, organic user-acquisition funnel, drawing in waves of new players and forming a perfect self-sustaining ecosystem.

An army of high-quality consumers who actively market your game for free through creative output, pull aggressively on card banners, and instantly buy out physical merchandise—competitors were practically weeping with envy.

An independent industry analyst summarized the phenomenon into three core pillars:

Disrupting Conventions: Launching the market’s very first high-budget, accessible romance title.

Psychological Precision: Creating four intensely distinct, masterfully written male leads that perfectly aligned with female desires.

Player Respect: Providing generous rewards and maintaining an incredibly consumer-friendly environment. By relying on a low-ticket, high-volume model via the 30-yuan monthly card, they retained a massive active player base, guaranteeing permanent community engagement.

While these three pillars sounded simple in theory, executing them was monumentally difficult. Xie Yunfan had been the only executive willing to break convention, sinking over a billion yuan in upfront R&D investments alongside Qihang to shatter the technical bottleneck of seamless mobile-to-holographic cross-progression.

He didn’t rush to aggressively monetize his audience post-launch; instead, he ensured that budget monthly-card players received a rich, premium gaming experience. It was precisely this deep respect for his audience that allowed him to rake in an absolute fortune.

Cool Play’s CEO, Feng Shiming, exhaled a heavy sigh after reviewing the market report. “We operated out of pure prejudice, vastly underestimating the financial power of female consumers. For our upcoming autumn campus recruitment cycle, immediately increase our target hiring ratio for female candidates. Our development teams are far too male-dominated, which naturally leads to structural cognitive bias.”

Hearing this, several male designers lowered their heads in silence, while the female staff members in the audience felt a surge of intense excitement.

Unlike Cool Play’s constructive self-reflection, Wings of Dream operated on a completely different philosophy.

Tang Tonghai was notoriously cutthroat, having systematically crushed numerous small-scale independent studios throughout his career. He viewed game development through a strictly transactional lens, operating under the explicit mantra: “The only good game is a game that generates immediate profit.”

Every single project team within Wings of Dream was bound to brutal KPI metrics; failing to hit quarterly revenue targets meant the immediate forfeiture of year-end bonuses. Under this intense pressure, his designers routinely deployed predatory microtransactions, breaking the long-term health of their games for short-term financial spikes.

The sight of Ling Yue’s birthday tribute towering over the skyscraper directly across from his office had deeply humiliated Tang Tonghai. He immediately convened an emergency executive summit.

“If Yangfan Studio can build a romance game, why haven’t any of you engineered one?” Tang Tonghai barked, slamming his fist on the mahogany table. “Theirs features a martial arts universe with four male leads. Our team can engineer a sprawling sci-fi universe featuring seven male leads! Alter the thematic backdrop, expand the roster to create more monetization points, and launch it. Female consumers are remarkably easy to please—as long as the 3D models are visually stunning, they will throw money at you.”

In Tang Tonghai’s mind, a romance game possessed zero structural technical complexity. Yangfan Studio had already provided a flawless blueprint to copy; how difficult could it possibly be to replicate the framework?

The explosive success of Millennium Love forced a massive paradigm shift across the domestic gaming sector. Major corporations began aggressively balancing their gender hiring ratios, while mid-sized studios scrambled to empower female project leads.

Wings of Dream, true to form, immediately greenlit a high-budget clone.

Xie Yunfan remained entirely unfazed by these developments. He had fully anticipated that the astronomical financial success of Millennium Love would saturate the market with lookalikes. However, the long-term survival of a romance title depended entirely on the development team’s authentic respect for their audience and the genuine emotional depth of the characters.

He welcomed the influx of competition, as it offered players a broader spectrum of choices, but he maintained absolute confidence that Millennium Love’s throne would remain completely unassailable.

As November faded into December, the player base transitioned smoothly into the next major story update. The narrative progression remained masterfully written, handing brilliant highlight moments to all four characters. Accompanying the update was a dedicated story-related banner. Budget monthly-card players who had spent the past month hoarding resources were easily able to secure their desired male leads. The community’s enthusiasm showed zero signs of waning.

On December 12th, the studio rolled out a massive brand collaboration announcement:

“Dear players, we are absolutely thrilled to announce that the official Millennium Love × Par Luxury Fragrance Collaboration Gift Box will launch nationwide this month. The luxury line features four custom-blended profiles: The Qin Zhou Edition, The Ling Yue Edition, The Ye Qinghe Edition, and The Situ Yu Edition. We warmly invite everyone to visit official retail counters nationwide to experience the fragrances in person~”

A luxury fragrance collaboration! The news sent a massive wave of excitement through the community.

On launch day, extensive queues materialized outside Par cosmetics counters within luxury shopping malls across major cities. Players rushed to test the scents in person, while thousands of others opted to purchase blindly online via the official web store. Par was a highly respected domestic heritage brand known for its pristine craftsmanship. For this collaboration, Yangfan Studio had aggressively negotiated to depress retail prices, making the limited-edition bottles ten yuan cheaper than Par’s standard product line.

In an industry where media collaborations typically commanded a steep premium, offering such a fair price point meant that Yangfan Studio had intentionally sacrificed a massive portion of its own profit margins to protect the players’ wallets.

The community responded with a wild buying frenzy. Social media platforms were instantly flooded with unboxing photos, and the actual scent profiles received universal critical acclaim.

The perfumers had executed their briefs with flawless precision. Ye Qinghe’s fragrance, in particular, was an exact physical replica of the herbal aroma emitted within the holographic capsule, sending his dedicated fans into a state of pure ecstasy.

The total sales volume was practically immeasurable due to the sheer scale of cash transactions occurring across thousands of physical retail counters. Stories of instant sell-outs and emergency factory restocks dominated the retail sector. Within days, the luxury brand house went as far as publishing a formal, public letter of gratitude to the player base—a rare phenomenon that highlighted just how historic the sales volume truly was.

Before long, the New Year arrived. The development team had spent over a month meticulously refining the holiday campaign.

During an executive check-in, Xie Yunfan instructed, “For our New Year’s event, we will gift every single active player a 5-star character selector ticket for free. Let everyone celebrate the holiday happily with their favorite male lead.”

Shen Xingye raised a concern. “But Boss, if single-character loyalists can secure their desired 5-star card entirely for free, won’t our New Year event revenue experience a massive drop?”

Xie Yunfan smiled serenely. “That is entirely fine. We should focus heavily on delivering lavish player welfare during the New Year cycle. Let them have the cards for free. February brings both the Spring Festival and Valentine’s Day; if we roll out aggressive, back-to-back premium banners across both months, the financial pressure on our players will be far too draining.”

Shen Xingye’s eyes lit up as she grasped the operational strategy. “Ah! So the January 1st event functions entirely as a massive player-appreciation gift to solidify community goodwill, while the premium monetization banners are deliberately spaced out to drop during the February Spring Festival and Valentine’s Day corridor?”

“Exactly. Space them out by a full month.” Xie Yunfan then turned to the data analytics team and the Operations Director. “Furthermore, execute our custom ‘New Year Voice Call’ sequence. The data division will analyze each user’s account history to determine which male lead they possess the highest number of cards for, and program that specific character to place a real-time voice call to the player’s phone on New Year’s Day. For our high-spending users who have maxed out all four character rosters, program all four male leads to call them sequentially.”

The staff members stared at him in absolute awe. Brilliant. Utilizing real-time telephony systems to have a virtual boyfriend deliver intimate holiday greetings would send user satisfaction metrics into another stratosphere. High-value VIP users receiving sequential calls from all four characters would feel an immense sense of premium exclusivity.

The operations team immediately coordinated with the voice actors to record the personalized holiday dialogue, the data division began filtering user rosters, and the copywriting and art teams finalized the event interfaces. The entire floor was a whirlwind of activity.

Because the boss had explicitly mandated a player-welfare focus, the New Year event required zero financial investment from the players. The rare 5-star cards were entirely free, the holiday dating sequences handed out massive amounts of progression materials and exclusive community titles, and even the limited-edition holiday avatar outfits could be earned entirely by clearing in-game tasks.

The campaign offered unmatched sincerity. Players could experience a massive volume of festive content without spending a single cent.

The moment the event preview went live, the community erupted into cheers.

“This is absurdly consumer-friendly!”

“Securing an entire roster of premium resources without spending a dime? I have literally never seen a gaming studio pull a stunt like this…”

On January 1st, phone screens across the entire country began lighting up with incoming calls from unknown numbers.

Mengtu was currently live-streaming when her phone began to ring. Looking at the screen with a puzzled expression, she tapped the receive button and placed it on speaker. Instantly, a soft, incredibly gentle voice resonated through the stream:

“Hello, I am Ye Qinghe. This is a specialized transmission across the boundary of our worlds. The New Year is upon us, and I wanted to personally wish you a beautiful holiday. May the upcoming year bring fulfillment to your heart, peace to your days, and smooth journeys wherever you walk. When you find a quiet moment, please remember to visit Medicine King Valley; the blossoms we planted together have officially bloomed, and I have prepared a special surprise waiting for you.”

Mengtu’s jaw dropped in absolute shock. Her stream chat instantly exploded into a wall of text.

[Holy crap, a direct phone call from Ye Qinghe?! Am I hallucinating?]

[What sort of legendary operational stunt is this?! Real-time holiday greetings via phone call. Oh my god, why haven’t I received mine yet?]

[Ahhh, I want my phone to ring right now!]

A few minutes after she hung up the line with Ye Qinghe, a second call flashed onto her screen.

“I am Situ Yu,” a deeply attractive, amused voice purred through the speaker. “The sole reason I am contacting you is because my hound insisted that he missed you. Do not misunderstand—it is entirely separate from my own thoughts. The clumsy creature simply threw a tantrum demanding the custom meals you prepare, forcing me to go out of my way to reach you. Happy New Year. Come find me within the Nether Sect; a festive surprise awaits your arrival.”

Mengtu couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “He’s still claiming it’s just his dog missing me? He clearly wanted to hear my voice himself, hahaha!”

Shortly after, consecutive calls materialized from Qin Zhou and Ling Yue. Every single male lead had prepared an exclusive, personalized holiday gift for her.

Mengtu beamed with pure happiness, her face lit up with radiant smiles. “This is officially the most blissful New Year a single girl could ever ask for! I have four incredibly handsome men calling to wish me a happy New Year. Family, today I am officially the happiest, most radiant girl alive!”

The Weibo community hub went into absolute meltdown. Every single player had received a direct call from their virtual partners; single-character fans received intimate greetings from their chosen favorites, while multi-character collectors received all four calls back-to-back, leaving them floating in pure euphoria.

When players logged into the game, they were greeted by an abundance of free holiday resources and a complimentary 5-star holiday date card, allowing them to ring in the New Year with an intimate, private story sequence.

The player base collectively declared: “Yangfan Studio is the greatest studio on earth!”

That very afternoon, the official marketing account dropped another massive announcement:

“Dear players, have you successfully received your holiday voice transmissions from ‘Him’? We are absolutely thrilled to announce that the official Millennium Love Intelligent AI Companion Dolls are officially launching for purchase today! These premium companion dolls are scaled-down, physical recreations of the male leads’ official splash art, pre-programmed with the authentic vocal frequency prints of our four voice actors to remain permanently by your side in the real world. Equipped with an advanced smart-core processor, the AI companion doll can seamlessly integrate with and control your home’s smart appliances…”

The player base stood entirely frozen: “!!!” We have been completely, masterfully played by the marketing team.

A personalized holiday phone call had already elevated their emotional engagement to a boiling point. Introducing high-tech smart companion dolls right at that exact peak—allowing them to converse daily with a miniature, living iteration of their virtual boyfriends—was a proposition no dedicated fan could possibly resist.

Because the New Year event structure was so lavishly free, players hadn’t needed to spend a single cent on the game’s card banners. The players who had spent the past month saving up capital for the holiday season collectively declared:

“Since the game didn’t force us to pay for cards, we are buying the dolls instead!”

On launch day, the sales volume of the AI companion dolls sent another massive shockwave through the entire technology and gaming sectors.

As a high-tech smart appliance, the companion dolls weren’t cheap, commanding a retail price of several hundred yuan per unit. Yet, wealthy female consumers routinely purchased all four variants at once to complete the set.

By the end of the launch window, the total sales revenue for the companion dolls comfortably cleared 100 million yuan.

What did clearing 100 million yuan purely on a physical merchandise run look like? The rest of the domestic gaming industry was weeping with pure envy.

Xie Yunfan had demonstrated flawless restraint. He had deliberately forfeited immediate banner revenue during the New Year by gifting premium cards away for free, entirely prioritizing community goodwill and long-term user retention. Then, utilizing an intimate, masterfully timed phone call sequence, he perfectly captured the emotional core of his audience.

The studio let them keep their money in the virtual world, only to have them happily hand it over for a high-tech physical companion that generated 100 million yuan in pure merchandise sales.

Competitors could only look on with profound, exhausted admiration. Raking in an absolute fortune while simultaneously elevating your corporate reputation to pristine heights—what kind of mastermind architect is running their operations?

Xie Yunfan, you truly are a master of the craft.