Chapter 4: A Desperate Gambler’s Last Stand

As the Lunar New Year approached, the final phase of filming for the forty-episode television series "The Golden Powder Family" wrapped up smoothly. The production had taken a solid three and a half months, leaving Gu Cheng, already burdened with a hectic schedule, utterly exhausted.

After the New Year, it would be time for the editors and post-production crew to take over.

The wrap-up banquet was held at the Tianjin Coastal Restaurant, with six large tables laid out. Director Li, usually formal and stern, was noticeably more affable that evening. Even the rarely seen screenwriter Liu had made a rare appearance.

When Gu Cheng and several lead actors went to toast Director Li, he was already somewhat intoxicated.

Leaning on Gu Cheng's shoulder, he said, “Xiao Gu, I know you’re busy, but remember, by the end of February at the latest, you must record ‘Fragrant Shadows’ and send it to me. The film is slated for release in March. Our CCTV productions never have scheduling issues!”

“Don’t worry, Director Li. I definitely won’t let you down. A song? I’ll have it ready before the Lantern Festival.” Gu Cheng had initially addressed him as Director Li, but since the other girls were used to calling him Teacher Li, he had gradually adopted the habit over the past few months.

Though Gu Cheng’s status was undoubtedly higher than Li’s, he knew it was wise to remain humble and learn from him.

Director Li nodded, his speech slurred but sincere. “Then I won’t keep you. You’ve got a bright future ahead. Once this series wraps, I guess you won’t want to mingle much with the TV industry anymore.”

Whether Li’s words were innocent or intentional was uncertain. The girls accompanying Gu Cheng for the toast all showed subtle changes in expression.

Dong Jie, resolute and composed, quickly regained her composure without revealing any cracks.

Liu Feifei, younger and less experienced, turned her head away, her eyes reddening slightly. After a brief pause, she feigned casualness and asked, “Cheng-ge, does this mean you’ve had enough of the industry and will only focus on films from now on?”

“No one can say for sure about the future. Let’s take it one step at a time,” Gu Cheng replied awkwardly, feeling it was time to dispel the rumors.

The drama was over.

Fearing Liu Feifei might lose control, Dong Jie quickly smiled and changed the topic. “So, our big boss Gu is heading back to Qiantang for the New Year? Safe travels. We’re returning to the capital.”

Liu Feifei’s family was in the capital, and Dong Jie was still attending a training program at the Beijing Film Academy.

“Yeah, unless something unexpected happens, I’m about to…” Gu Cheng hadn’t finished when his phone rang. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

Stepping out of the private room, he saw it was Lei Jun calling. The corridor was crowded, and since the matter was sensitive, he quickly found a restroom to take the call.

“What’s up, Old Lei? Couldn’t wait for me to get back? Is Alipay’s antivirus acting up again?”

“Not exactly us, but some developments among our competitors are different from what I expected. By the way, have you booked your return flight yet?”

“Not yet. Planning to do that tomorrow. Cut to the chase.”

Lei Jun’s tone grew serious. “Don’t rush back just yet. Head to the capital first. Our old rival has stirred up trouble again. I’ll be flying over in the next couple of days.”

Gu Cheng’s face darkened involuntarily. “What’s going on?”

Lei Jun arranged his words, explaining the recent situation.

Over the past twenty days, the promotion of the antivirus and security software bundled with Alipay had been very successful.

More than 85% of players in the game legend with levels above 30, as well as individual accounts holding valuable equipment, had chosen to install the security software.

Over half of the internet cafes nationwide, especially in first- and second-tier cities, had also adopted the security system.

Within just twenty days, the account theft rate for the Legend game dropped by more than half—from about 3,000 cases per month to just over 1,000. Lei Jun had initially estimated that if the thieves did not upgrade their tactics, they would lose over 90% of their "business revenue" by the end of the first quarter.

Moreover, a new version of Alipay, which no longer required binding to physical addresses, was set to launch before the Spring Festival holiday, bringing fresh users into Gu Cheng’s content ecosystem.

In theory, these were all positive developments. Those envious of Legend’s tremendous profits, who had been scheming to sabotage Gu Cheng, should have been deterred by now.

However, just as Lei Jun thought they could finally crush their old adversary Zhou Hongyi, he unexpectedly learned that Zhou’s strength hadn’t diminished but had instead grown.

Digging deeper, Lei Jun discovered this was understandable: Zhou Hongyi no longer personally engaged in account theft.

A year and a half ago, just before the internet bubble burst, Zhou had set his sights on the business of creating the Grey Pigeon virus and building botnets. He had assembled a formidable team for virus and botnet development.

But after a failed collaboration with Zhang Long and others to manipulate data, Zhou suffered setbacks. Coupled with the early internet winter, Zhou, who had originally built his empire on 3722’s hijacking tactics, had become far more cautious.

From the latter half of 2001, he focused on selling Grey Pigeon viruses, botnets, and new Trojan horse source codes, letting smaller-scale thieves take the frontline while his company, 3722, provided technical services and reaped a steady profit share. The risky operations were outsourced to intermediaries.

Furthermore, the account theft groups seeking Zhou’s technical support weren’t limited to Legend accounts; almost any game with sellable equipment was involved. As a result, Zhou earned substantial “technical service fees” within just six months.

Roughly calculated, for every hundred million yuan Legend sold, Zhou profited several million yuan.

Like a parasitic tumor feeding on the lifeblood of the domestic online gaming industry, the more the gaming companies earned, the more nourishment the tumor absorbed, growing more malignant.

(Note: Historically, the 3722 company announced profitability in October 2001, the first domestic non-gaming internet company to do so, primarily through aggressive software hijacking and protection fees. Therefore, this portrayal is a reasonable extrapolation, not excessive defamation.)

In theory, these problems were manageable. After Gu Cheng tasked Lei Jun with launching a large-scale campaign to eradicate domestic botnets and Grey Pigeon viruses, cutting off the tumor’s blood supply, the menace should eventually be eliminated.

Yet, unexpectedly, the account theft groups acting as Zhou Hongyi’s intermediaries were unwilling to bow out quietly. They chose to gamble everything on Zhou upgrading their “equipment.”

It was like two warring nations: even if one lost on the battlefield, its arms manufacturers might still profit massively from the huge demand for damaged equipment.

Much like how during World War II, when the US Sherman tanks were easily destroyed by German “flamethrower” tactics in Europe, the real winners were the tank factories in Detroit, counting their profits without pause.

Lei Jun’s plan had only just begun to cut off the tumor’s front blood vessels. Before the “bleeding” stopped, the tumor’s last desperate spurt had been a brief feast on nutrients.

...

Gu Cheng listened to the full explanation, still somewhat bewildered until Lei Jun delivered the final revelation.

“At first, I didn’t expect so many complications, so I readily agreed to help you crush Old Zhou completely. But now it seems that after draining his own subordinates, he still has considerable strength—enough to mobilize a hundred to two hundred million yuan of his own funds.

“Besides, since you had dealings with Old Zhou when you were struggling, he has some dirt on you. So I thought, maybe we could negotiate a compromise: after he cashes out from selling viruses and botnets, we let him off the hook and let him go legit. We continue to crack down on the disorganized scattered virus and thief groups, reducing our worries…”

Gu Cheng’s brow furrowed deeply. “Who gave you permission to negotiate with Zhou Hongyi?”

Lei Jun had overstepped. Gu Cheng knew well how troublesome Zhou was.

Lei Jun hastily explained, “I wasn’t planning to decide for you, just wanted to make contact first. When I was at Kingsoft, my relationship with him wasn’t so hostile. Sometimes, when Kingsoft users gave him some ‘incentives,’ his 3722 would turn a blind eye…”

Gu Cheng cut him off. “Enough explanations. I don’t have time to hear about your past with Old Zhou. I’ll let it slide this time because you’re just consulting, but don’t do it again. Now, get to the point.”

Not having experienced Gu Cheng’s prowess firsthand, Lei Jun felt a bit resentful but sighed and composed himself to continue.

“The point is, even if you want to recruit him, Old Zhou isn’t interested in talking. My offer was met with polite evasions. I think he’s not ready to quit and plans to use his current hundred to two hundred million yuan capital to cause trouble and share the spoils.”

Gu Cheng sneered coldly. “Old Zhou still has that kind of nerve? That’s just like him. Do you have any intel on his movements?”

“Yes. There’s a guy stationed by Guoxin Software, one of Zhou’s investors, who doesn’t agree with Zhou’s reckless behavior that’s jeopardizing all investors’ interests. That guy and I had some acquaintance, so after Zhou rejected my offer…”

Lei Jun didn’t need to finish; Gu Cheng already understood there was a mole.

Zhou Hongyi was a reckless businessman who often clashed with his minority investors and acted unilaterally.

His half-gray, half-legal business methods meant losses fell on the company while profits might go to himself. Many respectable businessmen were driven to heart attacks watching him skirting the edge.

Gu Cheng cut straight to the chase. “So that guy’s in the capital? What’s his name?”

Lei Jun nodded. “Yes. Fu Sheng, a retrieval engineer from Guoxin Software. After Guoxin invested in Zhou last year, they placed him close to Zhou. I think we need to meet him immediately and find out exactly what Zhou Hongyi is planning.”

“I’m heading to the capital right now.”

After speaking, Gu Cheng hung up and went back to the restaurant to grab his coat.

Most guests had finished their meals and were dispersing in small groups. Dong Jie and Liu Feifei, having only half-finished chatting with Gu Cheng before he stepped out for the call, were awkwardly caught between leaving and staying.

Seeing Gu Cheng return, Dong Jie politely asked, “All done? Have you booked your flight?”

Gu Cheng didn’t think much and answered casually, “No, something urgent came up, so I’m rushing to the capital first. I’ll get a ticket soon.”

Liu Feifei’s eyes brightened. “To the capital? Why not take our car? Dong Jie and I are both heading back to the Beijing Film Academy.”

Since she lived in the capital, her family had already arranged a car and driver to pick her up.

Finding no reason to refuse, Gu Cheng held back the urge to expose the lie once again.

“Thanks.”