Chapter Seventy-Six: The Second Season Premieres

That is to say, during the commercial shoot with President Han—the one with the half cup of milk tea—some advertisers within the industry who had been paying attention to "Whatever" caught wind of the rumor that all the advertising slots for the second season had been snatched up.

At first, they didn’t take it seriously.

Snatched up?

Snatched?!

Who were they trying to fool?

With that astronomical price of five hundred thousand, what kind of fool would buy in? What was so special about that shoddy show that it was worth half a million?

The advertisers who heard the news not only refused to believe it but even scoffed at the notion.

Was this really the marketing trick they thought would work? Did they really think anyone would fall for it? Did they take them all for fools?

Forget it! No matter how much hype you create, we’re not buying ads from you!

But as time passed, the rumors grew more and more widespread. Some even received calls from friends, advising them to act fast if they were really interested.

At this, the advertisers began to feel uneasy—not because they wanted to compete for ad slots, for they’d already dismissed the show the moment Xu Bunian set the price at half a million. What unsettled them was the uncertainty of the situation.

One or two idiots might be understandable, but so many people were willing to pay such a price for ad placements in such a crude show?

Had they all gone mad?

Were they really just rich fools?

After staring in disbelief for a while, these advertisers couldn’t help but make a few discreet inquiries.

Soon, the rumors were confirmed: all the opening and closing ad slots for the second season of "Whatever" had indeed been sold out! Not only that, but they’d gone for an even higher price—five hundred fifty thousand each!

Suddenly, the advertisers were dumbfounded!

What sort of situation was this?

Just a few days ago, no one would touch them for five hundred thousand, and everyone was laughing at them. Now the price had risen to five hundred fifty thousand and there was a scramble?

It made no sense!

Where had things gone wrong? Or had something happened that they didn’t know about?

The advertisers kept digging for information. Unfortunately, what they learned remained vague. Even a few peers who had already secured ad slots could say little except that Chen Qi’s advertising concepts were supposed to be quite good.

Listen to that! “Supposed to be”—the key was always on supposed.

When pressed for details—just how good, what was so special about it—they all admitted they didn’t know.

At this, the advertisers were left with nothing to say.

How much creativity could an ad possibly have? There were only so many tricks, and even if you did something new, audiences were unlikely to care.

Fine, they thought, let’s give them the benefit of the doubt.

Unable to glean anything useful, the advertisers resigned themselves to waiting. The first episode would be released that very night. They’d see for themselves just how good this supposed “creative” approach was, and what could possibly make their peers fight over ad slots.

Could this show really make audiences watch the ads as eagerly as they watched the drama itself?

…

At the same time, several entertainment media outlets that had been following Chen Qi closely received the news through their own channels.

Once the information was confirmed, these media companies quickly published their stories.

Their wording was somewhat intense.

They claimed that the ad fees for the second season of "Whatever" exceeded ten million; that the second season would likely insert drama into the commercials; that the whole second season existed merely because of advertising, and so on.

In short, all the coverage was skeptical, if not outright negative.

The first season only went live five days ago, and now the second season was already out? As if anyone would believe it could be any good!

Anyone with eyes could see that this was a cash grab, made only for the sake of those advertising fees.

To put it plainly, Chen Qi was just milking whatever fame and attention he’d recently gained.

And if he was already cashing in, the media had no qualms about piggybacking on his popularity for a bit of traffic. After all, he was bound to be criticized sooner or later—why not get in a few jabs early and stir up the conversation?

So, these reports were posted in prominent positions across the entertainment sections of major websites.

Whether it was the eye-catching headlines or the growing familiarity of "Whatever," the stories quickly drew a lot of attention online.

After reading these reports, some simple-minded netizens were instantly swayed, developing a sudden distaste and resistance toward the show. Before closing the page, some even took the time to post their “noble” opinions in the comment sections below.

Some more rational viewers, however, read the articles calmly, deciding to hold off judgment until they’d watched the second season that evening. If it was good, they’d keep watching; if not, they’d simply stop—what could be simpler?

Meanwhile, fans of "Whatever" found the reports amusing.

Just a few days ago, these same outlets had been mocking the show for failing to sell its ad slots. Now, having sold out, they still weren’t satisfied?

So, no matter what they did, it was always wrong? Did these media have no sense of decency?

Especially after seeing some of the mindless criticism in the comments, a few passionate young fans couldn’t help but respond.

They retorted, saying things like, “You haven’t even watched it and you’re already trash-talking—aren’t you being a bit hasty?”

But the more they argued, the more heated the opposing side became, and soon the comment sections across the major sites were buzzing with replies.

Yet that was as far as it went.

For all the comments, the controversy only stirred small circles; it didn’t make much of a splash across the internet at large.

With Chen Qi and "Whatever" still modest in fame, they were a long way from shaking the online world.

…

Simple Video.

At around two in the afternoon, Zhao Qingqing received a call from Chen Qi.

The first episode was finished, post-production was underway, and it would definitely be released that evening.

“All right, got it,” Zhao Qingqing replied. After hanging up, she immediately set about launching the publicity campaign for the second season.

Whether it was because there had been a drought of good shows lately or because Simple Video truly valued the "Whatever" series, Zhao Qingqing actually managed to secure a splash-screen feature spot!

So, after three in the afternoon, anyone opening Simple Video was greeted by an ad for the second season of "Whatever."

Those who had seen the news weren’t surprised, but for those who hadn’t, the appearance of the ad was startling.

The first season had launched only five days ago—how could the second season be out so soon?

It was, without exaggeration, the fastest sequel they had ever seen!

Thanks to the stunning impression left by the first season, the vast majority of viewers were eager for the second.

Ten episodes had not been nearly enough—they were still hungry for more.

Many, as before, cheerfully shared this good news with their friends.

After all, this kind of zany show was best enjoyed together!

And Simple Video’s promotion didn’t stop there.

They also placed ads at the beginning and end of the first season’s episodes.

With such a strong push, word of the second season’s release may not have reached every corner of the internet, but any drama enthusiast was sure to know about it. Combined with the lingering heat from the first season, interest in the second season climbed rapidly, visibly growing with each passing moment.