The Martial Artist Turned Movie Mogul
Chapter 406 - 405. May I ask, do we have that much inventory?

Chapter 406: 405. May I ask, do we have that much inventory?

This complaint drew wholehearted agreement from his colleagues.

"Exactly, what kind of overtime are we doing here? It’s my first time hearing that Dandelion Tea can be sold through livestreaming. It’s really strange."

"This host is quite interesting, too. Of all the varieties of tea in our store, why did she hone in on one that people rarely drink?"

"This particular tea doesn’t really sell well in our teashop, but what puzzles me is, Cloudscape Group has such a big name, there’s no way we’ve fallen so low as to rely on internet influencers to move our products, right?"

"Forget it, complaining is useless. The contract is already signed."

"Plus, I’ve got some insider news. Apparently, President Jing personally issued this influencer collaboration decree. What does that tell you? There must be something fishy going on!"

"Maybe this influencer has got connections with someone big in the group."

"Psh! What good are connections? No matter the influencer, in the end, won’t it still come down to sales volume?"

"That’s what I’m saying. We’ll know if we’ve been taken for fools or not once we see the sales volume against the slotting fees our chain teashops have paid."

The three of them went back and forth, nodding earnestly with each statement, and as they spoke, they seemed to mentally piece together the whole situation.

It must be the true story; their brilliant and valiant President Jing had definitely been duped.

Yeah, just like that!

"Since we’re not playing cards anymore, let’s see how many orders we have."

"At most ten orders."

"Five orders! No more than that."

After some light-hearted laughter, one of them casually walked over to the computer that was turned on and clicked with the mouse to refresh the page.

Then, frozen.

The other two at the break table hadn’t heard their colleague’s voice for a long time, and that’s when they sensed something was amiss.

"Old Lin, what’s up? No internet?"

"No, no, no... that’s not it!"

"Then what is it? Look at you, it can’t be that we haven’t sold a single order, right?"

The person in front of the computer stretched out a hand and slapped their own face with a *smack*, their complexion looking incredibly strange.

"You guys... just come here and see for yourselves."

It was as if he were hallucinating.

But this hallucination lasted quite long—at least a whole two minutes. The total number of successful transactions was out of this world, and with each refresh, the number increased by tens of thousands.

Odd, really odd.

The other two, upon hearing this, got up and walked over, and ten seconds later...

The same action, the same stunned look.

Frozen.

After a moment, someone finally came to their senses.

"Holy shit! What’s going on here?!"

"Are those 2.6 million orders? Right? Is that it? The backend data isn’t wrong, is it?"

"It’s highly unlikely. I’ve refreshed the page four or five times now, and each time, the number of transactions jumps up by ten thousand."

"..."

"???"

"!!!"

The three salespeople swallowed hard before someone posed a critical question:

"Excuse me, do we have that much stock?"

Indeed, did they have that much stock?

Only then did the other two snap out of their trance, panicked.

"We’re screwed. Why didn’t we check with the warehouse and set a limit on the link?"

"This... who could have thought, this stuff could actually sell out!"

Setting a limit or whatever—according to their previous assumptions, there was no need, right?

As salespeople, they knew all too well the sales volume of Dandelion Tea. It wouldn’t sell 2.6 million orders in a year!

The three in front of the computer exchanged glances, wanting to cry but unable to shed any tears.