Chapter 51: The Show Went Viral? Tencent Pulls Out All the Stops

Bailu stared wide-eyed. "Me? What am I going there for?"

Jiang Ye had already reached the door, turning back to arch an eyebrow at her. "Didn't you sing the theme song? Right now, you're our golden brand."

Suddenly realizing something, Bailu trotted after him. "Boss! You wouldn't happen to..."

Before the office door closed, Jiang Ye's amused voice drifted back:

"Naturally, to negotiate the copyright fee for *Chill*, Little Roe."

"Boss!!!"

Holding back her frustration, Bailu abruptly stopped in her tracks.

Back then, she had curiously asked why he insisted on calling her Little Roe.

The boss had told her with a straight face that it was a special nickname he had made up for her, modeled after the "silly roe deer."

However, he figured it might not be quite appropriate to call a young woman that directly, so he thoughtfully changed it to "Little Roe."

At the time, she had almost choked with anger.

*Thanks a lot for nothing, you pretentious jerk!*

Staring at Jiang Ye's tall, straight back, Bailu secretly ground her back teeth, feeling utterly depressed!

Just because she had told him that joke of his was totally lame the other day, did he really have to hold a grudge until now?

It was clearly his own delivery that had been dry as dust, and she was merely speaking the truth.

Why was this guy so petty?

*Whatever, forget it. No use lowering myself to the boss's level.*

After all, she had only recently found out that this seemingly mature and steady boss was actually two years younger than she was.

As expected, younger guys were just so childish!

Though she was complaining inwardly, her feet didn't stop as she hurried after the man ahead with rhythmic, tapping steps.

...

Pengcheng, Tencent Video

Inside the conference room, the heating was blasting, yet it couldn't mask the pervasive anxiety and excitement filling the entire space.

On the projection screen, the streaming data for *Go, Princess, Go!* was skyrocketing like a rocket.

Having been online for barely nine days, the view count had shattered the one-hundred-million mark. The Weibo topic #The Princess is Toxic# surged to 3.2 billion views, while memes of "Brother Pengpeng" went viral across WeChat Moments. In the backend user comments, the cry for "More episodes, please!" had already flooded over tens of thousands of entries.

Content Operations Director Zhou Ming slammed his insulated thermos onto the table, the lid making a crisp clatter. "Forget the weekly report. The entire company is staring at this drama right now. Operations group, how are the homepage resource slots cleared out?"

The head of the operations group clutched a printed schedule tightly. "The homepage banner has already been switched to the still of the princess lifting her red skirt. The splash screen image will be replaced starting at eight tomorrow morning, and even the pinned slot on the drama channel and the search predictive terms have all been changed."

"We just coordinated with the variety show department. *Come on! Cinderella* will add a segment of 'Princess Behind-the-Scenes' footage tomorrow, and the news page has given us a focal image featuring a compilation of anti-trope iconic scenes captured by viewers."

"Not enough." Zhou Ming tapped his fingertips on the table. "The WeChat official account needs to push an in-depth article. Just write about why every girl in China is chasing this straight man who transmigrated into a crown princess. Publish it at five this afternoon and have the editors monitor the comment section for engagement. Contact the person in charge of Tieba, pin the *Go, Princess, Go!* forum thread, and post high-definition stills and unreleased clips. There are a lot of young people there; it's easy to spark a buzz."

Liu Yu from the marketing department flipped through her notebook and chimed in, "External publicity has been locked down. We bought two trending search spots on Weibo. #The Princess's Hypnotic BGM# goes live at seven tonight, and we'll find ten plot-focused accounts to cut highlight clips."

"Also, we've coordinated resources on the lead actors' side." Liu Yu turned a page of her notes. "We've contacted Tencent Entertainment for an exclusive interview, shooting starts tomorrow..."

"Oh, right, Director Zhou, we've already discussed with Director Jiang. We're arranging for all the main creators to do a live stream on our Tencent Video platform this weekend."

"Director Jiang's opinion is that we shouldn't bother with those stiff, formal procedures. Just host a small online meet-and-greet centered around a roast session."

"Let the actors chat about the embarrassing moments during filming themselves—like who kept forgetting their lines, or who was so scared by the wire work they shouted the wrong dialogue. Make it as funny and breezy as possible."

She lifted her eyes to look at her colleagues in the tech department. "Right, Director Jiang also casually mentioned wanting to have Douyu broadcast it simultaneously, and we've already had the business team coordinate that. Both sides will promote it together; we're responsible for setting up the stage, and they bring the program."

Someone in the conference room let out a chuckle. "This wild approach actually matches the vibe of the show quite well."

Liu Yu shrugged. "Director Jiang said viewers love these uninhibited moments; the more they roast, the more intimate it feels. Anyway, all the continuity errors in the show have already been dug up by fans, so we might as well put the flaws out there ourselves. It even builds a sense of authenticity."

Zhou Ming gave her a speechless look and said helplessly, "Fine!"

What on earth? How come it was always Director Jiang saying this and that?

Even though that kid's ideas were indeed quite good, didn't any of you have a single constructive suggestion of your own?

A bunch of freeloaders!

Zhou Ming turned his gaze to Zhang, the head of the advertising department, his tone dropping a bit lower. "Advertising is the key focus here. The show started with a Class C budget, and sponsorship only consisted of two small brand placements. We need to catch up now."

This was also the main point of Tencent Video's emergency meeting. Why was Jiang Ye so certain that they were the ones in a bigger rush?

In the film and television industry, hit dramas that could truly break out of their circles and trigger nationwide discussions were truly "one in a hundred."

Most shows demanded high investments yet yielded mediocre responses. Platforms purchased and self-produced hundreds of works every year, but very few became breakout hits.

*Go, Princess, Go!* unexpectedly blowing up as a low-budget Class C drama made it an unpredictable dark horse. The platform would never allow such a scarce resource to go to waste.

For the platform, this hit drama wasn't just a money-making tool; it also concerned subscriber acquisition, user scale, industry standing, market competitiveness, and many other aspects...

Director Zhang pushed up his glasses, his voice carrying a trace of uncontainable excitement. "Just in the past half-hour, ten brands have come knocking—snacks, shampoos, mobile games, you name it."

"We've already been in contact with Director Jiang, and his opinion is to accept all of them!"

Director Li from the operations department frowned, his pen halting on his notepad. "Accept all of them? This... isn't that a bit too reckless? I know he'll get a cut of the ad revenue when the time comes, but we can't just do whatever we want!"

"Has he gone crazy from poverty?"

Director Zhang was well-prepared, flipping open his memo pad to read aloud: "Director Jiang specifically instructed that he was prepared for this when filming. From the costume and makeup design to the plot, the show itself naturally carried an absurd sense of reality. Continuity errors were clipped into compilations by netizens and spread everywhere, which instead became its unique feature."

"He said that since viewers have been roasting it for so long, they've long gotten used to this imperfection and even find it hilarious."

"Now, rather than hiding the insert ads when adding them, we might as well just lean into this raw and crude vibe. For example, have a eunuch hold a bag of snacks while reciting his lines, or have Pengpeng comb her hair while telling the camera how smooth her hair feels after using this shampoo. The more straightforward it is, the more likely it is to become a new running joke."

He raised his eyes to look at the crowd. "Director Jiang's exact words were: 'With our show being this absurd, what's a few more ads? The viewers are already used to it by now, and they might even think, *Heh, as expected of this crew, even the ads are this unhinged, making it even more interesting.*'"

The conference room fell silent, everyone looking at each other in dismay.

After a few seconds, someone couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. "It sounds... kind of reasonable? During that last scene where the court maid wore a modern watch, the comment section was entirely flooded with people joking that the crew's entire budget must have been spent on chicken drumsticks..."

"Put that way, ads might actually turn into a new meme?"

Director Zhang closed his notebook and pushed up his glasses. "Director Jiang told us to take them all without hesitation, calling it turning mistakes to our advantage and going with the flow."

The meeting finally came to an end, and the attendees left one by one.

Zhou Ming sat in his chair, feeling somewhat baffled. For a meeting that had just taken place, everything felt rather odd.

That guy hadn't even shown up, so why did it feel like he was everywhere?

...

Time quickly advanced to December 24th, Christmas Eve!

The *Go, Princess, Go! Live Streaming Roast Festival* was about to debut!