You didn’t accept my confession, why are you crying because I changed my mind?
Chapter 43 - This Project is Good

Chapter 43: This Project is Good

Yan Weimin put down his teacup and fell silent for a moment.

Integrating this guy’s website into the school’s official site? He really dares to dream.

Doesn’t he realize what the official school website represents?

That’s the most serious and authoritative face of the entire university.

Putting his site on there, with headlines like “Hungry and Thirsty? Click Me?”…

If the principal didn’t tear him apart on the spot, that would be surprising.

But then again, I just boasted moments ago, saying that anything related to the school was under his authority.

If I turned around now and said he couldn’t do it, wouldn’t that be incredibly embarrassing?

At that moment, Jiang Zhou looked at him. “Sir, if you can’t do it, just say so. I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”

Yan Weimin shot him a glare. “Kid, you sure know how to talk in reverse, huh?”

“Sir, I only speak from the heart,” Jiang Zhou replied with a straight face.

“…Fine. I’ll allow your website to be pinned to the top of the Entrepreneurship section.”

Jiang Zhou licked his dry lips. “The Entrepreneurship section? Not many people click on that, do they?”

Yan Weimin gritted his teeth. “In addition, I’ll get a banner ad for you on the course selection system.”

“Thank you, Director!”

“Happy now?”

Jiang Zhou nodded, clearly very satisfied with the outcome.

Every student has to use the course selection system.

This was way better than paying to put up flyers or posters.

He’d just been racking his brain over how to reach shut-ins and homebodies.

Now, it was like opportunity had dropped from the sky.

But then a hint of suspicion crept into his mind.

Why would someone he’d never met go out of their way to help him like this?

Jiang Zhou firmly believed there’s no such thing as a free lunch. There had to be a reason.

“Sir, is it because I’m too handsome? Is that why you came to help me personally?”

“You’re not bad-looking, but handsome? That’s a stretch.”

Jiang Zhou’s smile twitched a little.

“These past few years, I’ve seen plenty of students use ‘entrepreneurship’ as an excuse to rack up credits. None of them actually got anything done,” Yan Weimin said, studying him. “I just want to see how far you can go. Putting up a banner doesn’t cost me a dime, and I earn some goodwill.”

Jiang Zhou immediately gave him a thumbs-up. “You really are a sly old fo— uh, gentleman!”

“Don’t get too cocky yet, brat.”

“Huh?”

“Have you even registered your project with the entrepreneurship hub?”

Jiang Zhou nodded without hesitation. “Not yet. Since it’s still in the free phase and not making any money, I didn’t report it.”

Yan Weimin sipped his tea. “Register it this afternoon. List me as your faculty advisor.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“All right, you can go.”

Jiang Zhou nodded, snagged a piece of chocolate off the table, and left.

Yan Weimin took another sip of tea, his brows slightly furrowed.

Shangjing University and Tsinghua-Peking University had always been rivals.

The two were constantly compared, with some saying one was better than the other.

As a result, both schools were always competing, always trying to outdo each other.

Recently, Tsinghua-Peking had produced a rising star in entrepreneurship, a student project for on-campus bike sharing.

At this year’s angel investment conference in May, the project secured two million yuan in funding.

The money itself wasn’t that much, but the key was that it was a student project.

And the government had been actively supporting student entrepreneurship in recent years.

So when a student project like that took off, it made headlines far more easily than a graduate’s success would.

This had been bothering Yan Weimin for a while. How could Shangjing University compete?

But the problem was that Shangjing University had no real doers.

Most student startups were just for credit.

There had been proposals before, sure, like a student dating website that turned into a haven for creeps.

Or a “reading café” that lost so much money they couldn’t even afford underwear.

None of those were even remotely presentable, let alone fit for an angel investment pitch.

Until today.

Today, Yan Weimin saw Jiang Zhou’s website.

He didn’t know how far the project could go, but it was already spreading like wildfire across campus.

On his way back from the Business School, Jiang Zhou was lost deep in thought.

His Ganfanren site was now officially a key supported entrepreneurship project of the university?

Do all people who reincarnate get this kind of plot armor?

His startup was going smoothly, and people were showing up just to help pave the road for him.

He lit a cigarette and began thinking things over.

The foundation of any food delivery platform was, of course, online ordering.

Originally, he’d planned to wait half a year to roll out that feature.

But now that Ganfanren was getting plugged into the course selection system, traffic would no longer be an issue.

The only thing left was figuring out how to launch the online ordering function.

Sure, everyone on campus liked using ganfanren.com to find good eats.

But getting them to pay extra for delivery? That wouldn’t be easy.

New things always take time to catch on.

What he needed was a catalyst, something that would make people want to order online.

It couldn’t be done with hard-sell ads. It had to be subtle.

A soft-sell strategy so people would accept it naturally.

But what kind of soft-sell would actually work?

Just as he was deep in thought, he heard voices coming from the small woods to the east.

A group of curvy, young college girls were walking his way.

“Xiaomei! Li Ning’s shop in Times Square invited Supreme Calendar! Let’s go show support!”

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll call some friends too, we can all buy a few pieces of clothing!”

“It’s their first endorsement. We have to help boost their sales!”

Hearing this, Jiang Zhou paused.

He knew who Supreme Calendar was.

A boy band that debuted last year, they exploded in popularity after their song “You’re the Cotton Candy in My Heart, So Sweet.”

But they had faded into obscurity shortly afterward.

Suddenly, Jiang Zhou’s eyes lit up.

He knew exactly how to create the catalyst he needed.

With the right move, the online ordering business would take off across the whole campus.