His follower count was growing far too fast.
When it hit five million, Nuomi called Wang Xiaoliang. "Second Senior Brother, isn't it time to start taking jobs?"
"Let's wait a little longer. The numbers are still going crazy."
At six million, she brought it up again.
Wang Xiaoliang gave the same answer-the growth hadn't stopped, so they shouldn't make a move.
"You really know how to hold out."
Nuomi understood the reasoning better than Wang Xiaoliang did. For streamers in the same category, the fee for the same ad could differ threefold between someone with five million followers and someone with ten million. Once people followed you, as long as you kept posting, only occasionally took an ad or did a livestream, and didn't go overboard, they wouldn't unfollow. That was your existing audience. The bigger that audience, the bigger the slice of the pie you could get later.
At seven million, Nuomi stopped pushing.
"We might as well wait for ten million. Ten million is a threshold. Once you cross it, your commercial value changes completely."
"Nuomi, we're thinking along the same lines."
Yet before he even reached eight million, he wanted to make a move.
Not because he couldn't hold out anymore.
It started with the Book of Fate.
That night, he came home after closing his stall, showered, and lay in bed. He had gained over eighty thousand followers that day. There were more private messages in his inbox than he could scroll through, and the platform's promoted events were lined up one after another.
Everything was going too smoothly.
So smoothly that it unsettled him.
All his plans had been accomplished-not just accomplished, but exceeded, turning out who knew how many times better than he had expected.
The more things went like this, the more he