pjbooks Chapter 79 [Local Reputation +1]
Chapter 79 [Local Reputation +1]
Chapter 79 [Local Reputation +1]
Liu Zhuohao had already guessed that there would definitely be a "reporting" tactic, but he was not sure about the "follow-up moves".
He didn't know whether those people in secret had reported it to the local TV station or had any intention of expanding the impact.
Anyway, Liu Zhuohao definitely has one, so I reported it first.
After finishing his interview for the local news program, the next day, he had just gotten up, his hair still a little messy, and sat in front of the old computer in his rented room, the screen light reflecting off his expressionless face.
His phone rang. He picked it up; it was a local number with no contact name.
There was silence as soon as the call was answered.
Liu Zhuohao glanced at it, his fingers never stopping on the mouse.
After waiting a few seconds, he swiped to answer the call and put the phone to his ear.
He didn't speak.
There was no sound on the other end of the phone.
There is only a slight background noise and silence.
Liu Zhuohao was very familiar with this silence; he was used to waiting for the other party to speak first and state their purpose.
If there's still no response after a few seconds, he hangs up.
There will be too many nuisance calls in the future: AI-generated reviews for food delivery, insurance, investments, loans—when many people answer a call from an unknown number, their first reaction is not to greet them, but to remain silent and wait.
If it's someone they know, or if it's something urgent, they'll usually tell you their purpose immediately.
The other party neither spoke nor hung up the phone.
The two remained in this eerie silence for a few seconds before Liu Zhuohao put down his phone, preparing to hang up.
"————Feed."
But as soon as the phone was removed from my ear, a voice came from the other end of the line. It was a deep male voice with a strong local accent.
Liu Zhuohao gave an almost inaudible "hmm" in response, still not uttering another word.
Another long silence followed.
This time it was even longer, long enough to hear the faint, rhythmic breathing coming from the other end.
"Boss Liu."
Upon hearing this name, Liu Zhuohao's mouse finger stopped moving.
He raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his face.
He seemed to know who was on the other end.
He had assumed that, having reached this point, the next step would be to wait for the official test results, follow up with television reports, for regulatory authorities to locate the whistleblower, and then proceed with the legal process.
There is a relatively clear process.
Now, the person on the other end of the phone is completely silent.
The voice on the other end of the phone was even lower, speaking slowly, each word carefully chosen: "Let's talk this out. Let's not escalate things; it's not good for anyone."
The words sounded like threats and intimidation.
His tone, however, was more like a suggestion or persuasion.
But the meaning behind those words couldn't be clearer: some things should end here, and I hope I won't pursue the matter any further.
After hearing this, Liu Zhuohao found it quite amusing, and even thought it absurd.
He spoke into the microphone, his voice clear, steady, and crisp: "I think I know who you are."
"Only now do you think about reconciliation?"
He paused, his tone devoid of anger, only displaying a businesslike indifference: "I'm sorry, you've already caused me real losses, so there's no possibility of reconciliation."
Before the other party could react in any way, whether by offering an explanation, adding fuel to the fire, or changing their tune, Liu Zhuohao simply pressed the hang-up button.
"Beep beep beep"
The busy tone was crisp and efficient.
He tossed his phone back onto the table as if it were just an insignificant sales call, his gaze returning to the data curves on the computer screen. He tapped a few times on the keyboard, bringing up another analysis page.
Is it a real person involved, or a fake one?
He didn't know, nor did he need to, ask the other party to prove their identity over the phone.
Liu Zhuohao's purpose in doing this was never just to protect his rights; he wanted to use this incident to expand his reputation locally.
Let everyone know that there is someone like me in this area.
He had been waiting for this opportunity.
It doesn't matter who did it, when they did it, or how they did it.
The person who might call hoping for reconciliation, or perhaps a group of people, see themselves as just a young stall owner with some skills, a bit of luck, and who stumbled upon a good idea.
They didn't even understand the basic relationships at that level.
Unbeknownst to them, they possessed a chain of video evidence that clearly indicated a group was repeatedly causing trouble at their stall.
They believe that as long as they report the issue as "customers" and say things like, "I think the oil isn't clean enough," "I think the meat is terrible," or "I just don't trust such cheap steaks," they can avoid being held accountable.
However, Liu Zhuohao's overall response was very intense.
"Someone's been watching me all along—"
He held the mouse in his hand, muttering to himself, "I posted a video yesterday afternoon, and last night I called a reporter from the local news station. Today they're calling me."
As for how the phone call came, he didn't think much of it; there are many ways to get your phone number.
[”
A buzzing sound!
On the table, Liu Zhuohao's phone kept vibrating, but he ignored it.
It's still the same number.
But what he needs to do now is not to care what others do or what ideas they have for reconciliation or negotiation, but to act according to his original plan.
The media machine has been started and can't be stopped!
Why did you bump into me?
Liu Zhuohao muttered to himself, but his eyes were only on the data in front of him.
Number of followers: 142317.
140,000!
It took less than a day to go from breaking the 100,000 follower mark to reaching 140,000 followers.
Although Bilibili is still a niche website and has not been commercialized in a substantial way, the content on it is mostly parody and reposted videos.
However, even trending videos like "rights protection" have achieved a "cross-version" victory.
Purely based on overall video data, this video has already made it into the top ten of the rankings, and if nothing unexpected happens, it seems that this video will reach the top in this round.
This is a great honor.
However, it's only just good.
For now, Liu Zhuohao values the number of followers more than video data.
As it turns out, even with a video that has over 800,000 views, while the data may seem objective, you still need dozens or hundreds of videos to slowly build up your fan base.
If your fans aren't your followers, with the current streaming mechanism, your next video will definitely have to climb the charts and get promoted by the editors before they have a chance to see it.
In the absence of an incentive program that allows users to earn revenue based on video data, even impressive video data is less tangible than an increase in the number of followers.
Now, since this "rights protection" video was uploaded, nearly 60,000 fans have been following him and keeping an eye on what's to come.
The conversion rate formula from user to viewer to fan is different now.
And this is just the beginning!
1
-
In fact, what my cousin was worried about did not happen.
As long as he doesn't let his family's persuasion cloud his judgment, Liu Zhuohao's judgment is generally reliable.
"Boss, boss—"
Just as Liu Zhuohao and the others were preparing to set up their stall, Huang Weixiong called urgently.
He hasn't been seen at the stall for a long time.
He called with only one thing in mind.
The test report is out.
"Just take a picture and send it to me first."
Liu Zhuohao hung up immediately after saying those words, and waited on his QQ phone for the other party to send him photos.
A few seconds later, a "beep" sound rang out.
Huang Weixiong sent several clear photos, which was a "Food Safety Sampling Inspection Result Report" stamped with a red seal.
Liu Zhuohao clicked on the app, zoomed in, and quickly scanned the key items: sensory indicators, physicochemical indicators, microorganisms, veterinary drug residues—each item was marked with either "compliant" or "not detected."
Expected.
To obtain this compliance data, he chose a supply chain with significantly higher costs than his competitors.
The extra one or two dollars in cost per raw material is not a small amount when purchasing in bulk, but in return, it gives you an indisputable innocence on paper at this moment.
He showed no excitement, after all, he was simply confirming a fact he already knew.
Multiple selections, forward.
Liu Zhuohao opened his friends list, clicked on the line for the site administrator "Bi Shi", and then sent the message.
The screenshot was sent.
After finishing all that, Liu Zhuohao looked up at the stall, at the scattered crowd, and then at Li Zekai, Cheng Bing, and Yang Boran, who were quietly preparing ingredients with a hint of nervous anticipation in their eyes.
He picked up his phone and sent Huang Weixiong a second message: "Make a copy of the original, scan it, archive it, and also compile a copy of the online document and send it to me."
He paused his fingertip on the send button for half a second, then added, "Thanks for your hard work. I'll add an extra five hundred to your bonus this month."
Putting down his phone, Liu Zhuohao scanned the stall with his eyes. He knew that after receiving this "proof of innocence," the station manager would most likely take further action.
"What kind of movement?"
He couldn't help but mutter to himself.
He was somewhat expectant of the station manager's reply, his fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of his phone.
Will you reply instantly?
not at all.
Even after all preparations were complete, and the first batch of steaks sizzled onto the scalding hot plate, the site administrator's chat window remained silent, displaying only that lone screenshot and the one he had previously sent.
A few brief exchanges before the report was released.
Although there weren't many customers, Liu Zhuohao quickly focused his attention on the customers in front of him.
"Boss, do you still have 20-yuan original cut steaks today?" A boy in a school uniform squeezed to the front and asked expectantly.
"Yeah, yeah—" his companion chimed in, "Didn't you say yesterday that you were giving back to your fans by offering whole-cut steaks for only 20 yuan? We've been loyal fans, buying from you since the first day you set up your stall outside the Fourth Middle School!"
"Boss, we came all this way specifically for this purpose—"
The number of customers in front of us is indeed better than yesterday; at least the queue is now five or six people long.
Compared to the bustling, dragon-like scene I remember, it was still so desolate that it left me feeling empty inside.
Liu Zhuohao continued frying the meat, looked up and smiled apologetically, his voice clear: "Sorry, yesterday's special offer only lasted one day, it's over today, and now it's the regular price."
.
Upon hearing this, several disappointed "Huh?" sounds rang out from the group. The students who had just asked the questions exchanged glances, hesitated for a few seconds, and then actually turned and left, muttering under their breath, "Why did they do this—" and "They promised to give back—"
Liu Zhuohao didn't try to stop them, but calmly turned his gaze to the remaining customers: "What would you like to order, friends in the back?"
He was unfazed.
To put it bluntly, if you give rewards to customers who come on the second or third day, the emotional connection with the customers who come on the first day won't be as strong.
The first time is always very important.
He made several more steaks, and in between, he took out his phone again to unlock it.
The site administrator's chat box still showed no new message notifications.
Another chat window lit up; it was from the female reporter from the local news channel yesterday: "Boss Liu, the report is edited. The leadership took it very seriously and has scheduled it to air tonight around 7:20 PM. Remember to tune in!"
A smiley face emoji followed it up.
They moved quite quickly.
Liu Zhuohao replied, "Thank you, you've worked hard."
If it airs tonight —
A thought popped into his head: he wondered if he would have a chance to make the business happen in the latter half of the night.
This kind of program, focusing on people's livelihood, is something that people in this small city have watched since childhood; it's a regular viewing time for many families.
Between 7:00 and 7:30, either at the dinner table, the whole family holds their bowls, glancing at the TV showing the neighbors and everyday life, or after the meal, they brew a pot of strong tea, and the familiar local dialect and street scenes on TV are the best background noise to aid digestion.
Once you're on this show, it means that the story is being spread in this close-knit community in the most traditional way, like a loudspeaker tied to a telephone pole in the 1970s.
Again and again.
It may not cause an immediate upheaval, but it will certainly be remembered, discussed, and become an unavoidable topic of conversation during the next few days, whether it's over tea, at the market, or while shopping for groceries.
This expectation of being "seen" was fulfilled faster than expected.
Less than half an hour after the program aired, this once somewhat deserted night market street seemed to be injected with some kind of invisible vitality.
The number of people has visibly increased.
Although most people were just strolling around leisurely, their eyes held a clear purpose.
Their gazes would always unconsciously drift towards their own stall, and then stop.
"Boss! I saw you on TV!"
"Boss Liu, would you consider yourself a star in this area now?"
"Oh my, so this is the steak stand at the night market that everyone's been talking about!"
They are not necessarily customers who will immediately spend money; many people are just there to watch the spectacle and see what the "bullied young boss" in the news looks like and what his stall is like.
There were also some new faces here. They were dressed more elegantly and had a scrutinizing look on their faces, unlike regular night market patrons or street food lovers.
They were drawn in by the "news figure" label, not by the meal itself.
Prior to this, even though Liu Zhuohao's videos had made it into the top ten of Bilibili's rankings, he remained virtually unknown in the real world.
Bilibili's daily active users may be comparable to the total population of this small city, but its user profile and interest groups are still separated from the general public by an invisible dimensional wall.
It's too niche.
However, news reports about people's livelihoods that appear on local television stations have a much more direct impact on reality.
Liu Zhuohao looked at the night market street in front of him, which was gradually recovering and even had a more touristy atmosphere than before. He noticed that everyone who passed by would subconsciously glance in his direction.
He suddenly had a strange illusion.
If life were a game, his character panel should probably be displaying a clear notification right now: "Local Reputation +1".