Wang Xiaoliang leaned back against the sofa, clasped his hands together, and cradled his neck.
His mind was filled with the image of Xiao Mo holding out his cupped hands to beg in front of the camera.
That old bastard really didn't pull his punches when it came to himself.
An internet celebrity with tens of millions of followers, a billionaire, had ground his own worth into the mud, calling himself a beggar who panhandled at a train station.
The key was that it was all true.
By lowering himself like that, he had utterly dismantled the public's resentment of the rich and their psychological defenses.
"It's only because we read the script beforehand. Otherwise, who could have guessed that all that buildup was just so he could naturally invite you onto his livestream at the end?"
Wei Zijin rested her head against his shoulder and settled into a comfortable position.
"Forget the viewers. Even those old hands on the team wouldn't have seen through it. This guy has the internet figured out."
"The content alone is explosive enough. A disabled beggar endures ten years of hardship, then returns as a king. The people who cheated and hurt him back then either went to prison or got shot. Paralyzed in bed, lying in their own piss and shit, waiting to die. He's practically the male lead of a wish-fulfillment novel."
He finally understood why Xiao Mo's begging gesture kept lingering in his mind.
"Especially the part where he visited the childhood friend who betrayed him. That was so satisfying. Viewers get pushed around in their daily lives, and watching this video will let them vent that pent-up anger. That's the ultimate formula for traffic."
Wei Zijin looked up at Wang Xiaoliang.
"The scariest thing is that it's all true. I