By the end of September, the six major TV stations, Yunteng TV, and countless other big and small networks across Great Zhou launched a wave of new drama promotions.
And on September 30th, the madness peaked.
From morning to night, nearly every TV station ran dedicated programming and promotional content.
Although Jing Yu had already left Yunteng TV and the broadcasting rights for 'Kimi ni Todoke' had been sold to them, he still participated in all scheduled promos without missing a beat.
"Producer Cheng, hello!"
"Cheng Lie! You've really made it now!"
"Jing Yu, good luck!"
"Jing Yu-sensei, could I get your autograph?"
Inside the Yunteng TV building, the staff were enthusiastically greeting Jing Yu and Cheng Lie.
Xia Yining also drew a lot of attention. The only one somewhat left out was Yin Xiao, who played Kurumizawa Ume, simply because most people didn't recognize her yet.
While Yunteng TV's executives might still harbor some resentment toward Jing Yu and Cheng Lie for leaving, the rank-and-file workers were happy to see them doing well.
It was simple, really.
No one wanted to be a company cog forever. What if they also decided to leave Yunteng TV someday?
Jing Yu, Cheng Lie, Xia Yining, Yin Xiao, and Director Lü Cang sat together in the Yunteng TV makeup room.
A few staff members were casually chatting with them about off-topic stuff.
"This one's the app," a staffer said, showing his phone.
"Developed by tech giant Qingyun. They say it aggregates over 100 of Great Zhou's major forums and websites."
"And this—another app called Qingmao Video—also made by Qingyun. They've partnered with this station and a bunch of other networks. Apparently, they plan to license out old drama copyrights for streaming. Profits are split by view count."
Jing Yu narrowed his eyes, watching the Yunteng TV staff excitedly explaining these two apps on Qingyun's behalf.
Qingyun had become the main sponsor for Yunteng TV this season. What they wanted wasn't just ad exposure—
They were banking on the pull of 'Kimi ni Todoke' and Jing Yu's two-year streak of top ratings.
Honestly, the show's 90 million investment might be recouped just through Qingyun. And that's not even counting the other sponsors in the timeslot.
Helping sponsors promote their products—whether on-air or online—was nothing new for Jing Yu.
But this time…
These two apps? Jing Yu couldn't help but recognize them as early versions of something much bigger.
One was like a proto-Weibo, and the other… an embryonic YouTube or Youku.
Qingyun had originally been a massive power grid company, serving six provinces in southern Great Zhou. But over the years, it had expanded into over a dozen industries—and now, it had set its sights on the internet.
Even more surprising: their target areas were forums and long-form video content.
As someone from the entertainment industry, Jing Yu's company didn't usually stay plugged into tech developments. If Yunteng TV hadn't revealed this, he might've had no idea that Qingyun was already negotiating to upload old dramas onto the Qingmao platform.
He glanced over at the Yunteng TV staff, who were beaming with pride—excited about scoring ad revenue and a way to monetize the network's aging drama library.
"So, Jing Yu-sensei, are we clear?" one staffer asked.
"Crystal," Jing Yu replied smoothly.
"You want me to register an account on this 'Qingyun Blog' app. Then Qingyun will verify me, and during tonight's program, I'll advertise the app—get my fans to download, register, and follow me. And of course, also plug the Qingmao Video app."
His tone was calm, almost disinterested.
Next to him, Cheng Lie, Xia Yining, Lü Cang, and Yin Xiao all stared at him in confusion.
Honestly, none of them understood the point of these apps.
No games, no fun. Heck, even poker sounded more entertaining.
First, Qingmao Video—who'd watch old dramas on a tiny phone screen when there were so many new shows on TV?
Second, Qingyun Blog—what was even the point? Register an account just to let fans follow you? Who had that kind of time?
But the Qingyun reps were practically glowing with admiration.
"No wonder he's Great Zhou's most brilliant young screenwriter—he picks things up instantly!"
Well, duh.
Jing Yu had lived through all this in his past life.
8:00 p.m.
Yunteng TV's pre-launch special for 'Kimi ni Todoke' went live.
It was branded as a final promo before the premiere, but honestly, most of the airtime was dedicated to hyping up Qingyun's new apps.
And sure enough—
"Hey, what's that app? Can we use it to chat with Jing Yu-sensei?"
"Not directly. But if you comment on his posts, he can see them. And if he replies, yeah—you could say it's chatting."
"So… I can roast him online now?"
"Wait—you're saying I can finally nag him to release new scripts?"
"OMG. I can finally send my selfies to Jing Yu-sensei!"
"Maybe he hasn't dated anyone yet because he's been waiting… for me."
"Already downloaded. Already following."
"I've started flaming him. Been holding a grudge over 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' for over two months—FINALLY letting it out!"
"Please. I'm a die-hard 'Your Lie in April' fan. Been holding it in for years!"
For fans who'd long wanted to rant at or tease Jing Yu, this was heaven-sent.
Qingyun wasn't just sponsoring Yunteng TV.
They were also working with Xingtong TV and Aurora TV, backing those networks' seasonal flagship dramas.
Their HQ was in Modo City, so naturally, they prioritized the city's three big stations: Xingtong TV, Aurora TV, and Yunteng TV.
Of course, Qingyun wasn't alone. Other tech giants were also rolling out similar apps, with the other four major stations all securing competing sponsors this quarter.
To Jing Yu, this kind of cutthroat ad war was all too familiar.
Great Zhou's business elite had a sixth sense for market domination tactics.
The special ran for over an hour, and Jing Yu's fans were eating it up.
After the show wrapped…
"Huh? I got 30,000 followers?" Director Lü Cang stared at his phone in disbelief.
"I've got 70,000," Cheng Lie said, intrigued.
"136,000," Xia Yining blinked.
No surprise—
The program's average rating had topped 3.5%, meaning well over a million viewers.
"I… I've got over 60,000," Yin Xiao said softly.
As a relative newcomer to acting—never having played a second female lead before—she'd never imagined she could gain tens of thousands of fans just by appearing on a promo show.
Everyone turned to Jing Yu.
"370,000," he said, glancing at his dashboard.
Inside, he was slightly stunned.
How much had Qingyun spent pushing their software?
There was no way a single one-hour TV special accounted for this level of new user growth. Most people had probably downloaded the app long ago and just followed Jing Yu now because they saw him on the show.
He scrolled through the comments casually.
"Looks like… over 10,000 people are flaming me right now."