185: Chapter 185 A makeshift troupe?

Xu Yi felt a bit doubtful.

When he had communicated with Qiao Linlin before, she had sounded professional in everything she said and did.

When "Mr. Chen" was mentioned on the phone, her tone was respectful and natural. He had subconsciously imagined someone in their thirties or forties—mature, steady, wearing a suit, and very articulate.

But the person in front of him didn't look old enough to be a "President" at all.

He wasn't wearing a suit either, but a set of casual clothes that looked quite expensive.

Moreover, he was very handsome; he didn't look like a boss, but rather a second-generation rich kid.

However, he was certain that the person who contacted him was indeed from Fanyu Company, the company that created the hit mobile games "defend the carrot" and "happy elimination."

The other party's email domain and company credentials all held up under scrutiny.

He hadn't been scammed; it was just that this Mr. Chen was far younger than he had expected.

He guessed that Chen Fan was probably a second-generation rich kid starting a business.

At this thought, a hint of envy flashed in his eyes.

He envied both Chen Fan's ample funding at the start of his venture and the incredible success he had achieved so early on.

Even if he didn't play mobile games, he knew "defend the carrot" and "happy elimination" were extremely popular; industry forecasts estimated their monthly revenue to be over ten million.

Chen Fan noticed Xu Yi's subtle reaction but didn't call him out on it.

He sat in the cleared office chair with a casual posture, his gaze quietly sweeping across the room's layout.

"What's the site's current daily active users?" Chen Fan asked out of the blue.

Xu Yi blanked for a moment and instinctively replied, "...About thirty thousand. It can reach thirty-five thousand at its peak, and usually around twenty-seven or twenty-eight thousand."

"What about video moderation? How many people are doing that now?"

"Currently, my colleague and I take turns. We go until two or three in the morning every night, then get up the next morning and keep at it. Sometimes when we really can't hold on, we'll take a nap and then continue moderating."

Chen Fan nodded and continued, "I came here mainly to see if your website has any investment value."

"Investment? Mr. Chen, you want to invest in us?" There was clear pleasant surprise in Xu Yi's tone.

Since he resigned last year to work on Bilibili full-time, he had been crunching the numbers every day.

Server bandwidth costs, equipment maintenance costs—all together, it was a significant monthly expense.

He had no income of his own and was relying entirely on the small savings he had accumulated from his previous job.

The website had no ads or paid features. While the user base was growing slowly, the more users there were, the faster the bandwidth costs rose.

To put it bluntly, it was a money-burning venture. It wasn't that he hadn't looked for investment. He had contacted several investors, but some didn't understand what he was doing at all, thinking "bullet chat" was just child's play.

Others were interested after hearing about it, but as soon as they heard the site had no revenue model yet, they immediately backed out.

A few young people busy at their computers nearby stopped what they were doing and looked at Chen Fan upon hearing the word "investment."

Their gazes held anticipation, curiosity, and a trace of subtle nervousness.

Chen Fan didn't respond immediately. His gaze moved away from Xu Yi's face, scanned the room, and then returned to him.

"I do have that intention. I think your website's concept is decent and has some growth potential. But after coming here today, I feel it's a bit—" He paused.

Xu Yi's hands involuntarily tightened.

"A bit what?" Xu Yi asked, his voice tighter than before.

Leaning back in his chair, Chen Fan looked at Xu Yi calmly and spoke slowly, "I'll be blunt. Right now, you feel like a ragtag group to me. There's no investment value."

As those words fell, the entire room seemed to have its pause button pressed.

The young people who had been listening intently froze.

The pleasant surprise on Xu Yi's face quickly cooled, as if doused by a bucket of cold water.

His brow furrowed slightly, his lips thinned, and his Adam's apple bobbed once. He was restraining himself.

Of course he was angry; anyone would be. A young man a year younger than him was sitting in his rundown rental, telling him and his colleagues to their faces that his life's work had "no investment value." It felt like someone telling you to your face that the child you painstakingly raised "is no good."

But Xu Yi didn't explode. He took a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and picked up his enamel mug for a sip of water—it was already cold, which helped cool him down.

"Mr. Chen, I understand what you see," Xu Yi said, putting down the mug. His voice was much steadier now, but a trace of stubborn defiance was hidden deep in his eyes. "But I'd like to say a few words."

Chen Fan didn't speak, only tilting his chin slightly to signal him to continue.

"I won't deny that you called us a ragtag group. Our current conditions are indeed crude—a few people squeezed into a residential building, using second-hand equipment and the cheapest server bandwidth." At this point, Xu Yi paused, his gaze sweeping over his colleagues. His tone suddenly became serious and certain. "But Mr. Chen, do you know that almost every successful internet company in China started out this way?"

He counted them off on his fingers: "Alibaba started in Lakeside Gardens, in Jack Ma's apartment. In its early days, Tencent was in a small office in Huaqiangbei, Shenzhen, with a few people squeezed together writing code. Baidu only had six or seven people when it started. In the early stages of a startup, everyone is a ragtag group."

Chen Fan listened, his expression unchanged, but he didn't interrupt.

"Our website went online last June, less than a year and a half ago," Xu Yi continued, speaking faster than usual but with clear logic, as if words he'd bottled up for a long time had finally found an outlet. "Daily active users have grown from a few hundred at the start to nearly thirty thousand now. Our user retention rate is among the highest for similar sites. We haven't spent a single cent on promotion; it's all been word-of-mouth. Mr. Chen, as a game developer, you should know what it means to achieve this growth rate without any promotion."

He was clearly emotional at this point, but he quickly brought it under control, and his voice steadied again.

"I won't say how great we are, but the data is right there. If you think the term 'ragtag group' sums up our efforts over the past dozen or so months, then I have nothing more to say."