By now night had fallen, and Xingchen Investment Company was welcoming a crowd of Second-generation rich young masters.
First came Wang Congcong, then Qin Fen, followed by Qi Yuan and Chen Hao.
Seeing so many rich heirs walk in, the Girls in the office couldn't help gossiping.
They knew their boss was loaded, but they hadn't realized he actually knew these internet-famous rich kids.
"Never thought our boss was friends with Principal Wang and Young Master Qin."
"They look better in person—at least not as greasy as online."
"Still, I say our boss is the handsomest."
"Well duh—those two clearly overindulged; look at those giant eye bags."
"Right—do you think they can even perform at night?"
…When another man walked in, the Front Desk Girl smiled politely again: "Good evening, sir, who are you here for?"
Wang Zheng's eyes lit up at the sight of her. Grinning, he said, "I'm here for your boss, Jiang Cheng."
"Certainly, may I have your name? Chairman Jiang is with guests."
"No need for courtesy—surname Wang, given name Zheng," he replied, still beaming.
After a quick call, the Front Desk Girl said, "Please come with me; Chairman Jiang invites you in. This way."
"Miss, has anyone ever told you that you look like someone?"
"Like who?" she asked, surprised.
"Like my wife," Wang Zheng teased with a smile.
Had the Front Desk Girl not already been teased by Jiang Cheng today, she might have found Wang Zheng acceptable—
at least he wore designer clothes and a luxury watch, looking every inch a rich heir.
But with Jiang Cheng's precedent—and the exact same pickup line—the difference in looks made Wang Zheng seem like a crude copycat.
To her, he now came off as cringe.
Her bright smile collapsed instantly.
"Mr. Wang, has no one told you that you're really cringe?"
Unfazed, Wang Zheng kept smiling. "Girl, you're young; don't throw words around. This is mature humor, not cringe."
Because he was Jiang Cheng's guest, the Front Desk Girl swallowed her retort and rolled her eyes inwardly.
Wang Zheng walked helplessly into Jiang Cheng's office.
Inside, Qin Fen, Qi Yuan, and Chen Hao were already touring the place.
They chatted while checking out the decor.
Qin Fen even held a cigarette under his nose to sniff—
clearly craving a smoke but refraining out of respect for Jiang Cheng's office.
Wang Zheng complained, "Old Jiang, your Front Desk Girl has no taste—she called me cringe."
Jiang Cheng gave him a once-over. "You look sharp today; even dyed the white hair black. How's that cringe?"
Qi Yuan grinned, "Failed flirt, huh?"
"How'd you know? I told her she looks like my wife, and she didn't even blink—hell of a thing."
Jiang Cheng burst out laughing. "I used that line at lunch—it bombed. Several Girls wanted to marry me on the spot; scared me off it for life."
Chen Hao added, laughing, "I'm dying—Old Jiang, don't copy Old Wang. His lines only work on his company's influencers; other Girls take them seriously."
"No wonder she called you greasy—your wife got snatched by Jiang Cheng," Qin Fen cracked up.
Jiang Cheng's eyes lit up. "You run an influencer agency?"
Wang Zheng gave a wry nod. "Just a small outfit; we sign minor influencers."
Qin Fen cut in, "That company's half-dead, loses millions every year. Told him to shut it down, but he babies it like a treasure."
Wang Zheng shot back, grinning, "If I close it, who'll deliver Girls to you at 2 a.m.?"
Jiang Cheng had never cared much about influencer economics, but with his upcoming TikTok investment—
suddenly he saw the sector in a new light.
After all, TikTok's rise had minted plenty of mega-influencers.
Once, "fans" meant celebrities—
they had platforms: TV, movies, ads, live shows—
multiple income streams—
huge commercial value.
Before 2017, influencers could only earn from live-stream tips—
like Qiao Yinyin, scraping by on Huaya tips.
Slightly bigger were the Social Media Platform stars doing product reviews for ad fees.
But that landscape was about to flip completely.
In a few months, when TikTok live-streaming blew up, everyone would learn what influencer economics and traffic-king era meant.
TikTok mega-stars like Big-&-Small Yang Bro, Li Ziqi, Papa Jiang—monetized fan armies through live-commerce, setting record after record.
The shift would be tectonic: soon these influencers would out-earn A-listers.
This year's Double-11 marked the first wave of influencer cash-outs.
"Tempting as that is, bro, I hate watching you burn millions—those bucks could buy any Girl," Qin Fen said.
Jiang Cheng shook his head. "No rush to close—traffic platforms can flip losses to profits overnight."
Wang Zheng leaned in. "Old Jiang, what do you mean?"
He'd once run the agency seriously, but after losses he'd slacked off, treating it as a pricey hobby—
a few million a year to keep some Girls around was affordable, so he kept it alive.
Jiang Cheng didn't hide his plan; influencer agencies were everywhere—no fear of competition.
"Live-commerce, ads, short-video series—follow that pipeline and you'll recoup in no time."
Qi Yuan, uninterested, shrugged. "My old man forbids me, but if you find any top-tier influencer Girls, save one for me."
Wang Zheng grinned. "I'll send you picks from my roster—take your choice."