9: Chapter 9 Successfully Brings Over a Leading Beauty

Jiang Yuan was still waiting for Su Meng's reply.

This wait lasted for two days.

Of course, she hadn't been idle during these two days.

Zhou Ming's side had already finalized his start date; he would officially report for duty next Monday.

She also scheduled video calls with two other operation candidates who had submitted resumes, but she wasn't very satisfied with either.

One was too boastful, opening with, "I can help you grow your user base to a million."

The other was too dull, answering one question for every three asked; the communication cost was too high, and it would be easy to fall into internal friction.

On the evening of the third day, while Jiang Yuan was staring blankly at her computer, her phone rang.

It was a call from Su Meng.

“Are you busy?”

Jiang Yuan's heart stirred slightly, and she smiled, saying:

“Not busy.”

“I just got off work.”

Su Meng's voice sounded a bit more relaxed than last time.

“I'm on the subway. I thought about it and decided to give you a call.”

Jiang Yuan didn't say a word, silently waiting for her to continue.

“I went back and thought about what you said for two days.”

Su Meng said:

“A thirty thousand base salary, lead artist, and decision-making power—to be honest, the conditions are quite good, much better than what I have now.”

“But?”

Jiang Yuan prompted cooperatively.

“But I've been with my current company for almost two years. I'm familiar with the team and the processes. Although it's tiring, it has the advantage of stability.”

Su Meng paused:

“If I come out to work with you, what if your new game flops? What if you can't keep going later? What do I do then?”

Jiang Yuan fell silent.

She couldn't use any rhetoric to answer this question.

Because what Su Meng said was the truth.

Right now, she was just an indie developer who had just emerged, with one hit—but only one hit.

Could the next one succeed?

No one knew.

She certainly had confidence herself, but she couldn't tell the other person the source of that confidence, nor could she tell anyone else in this world.

In this situation, anyone would hesitate.

“I can't guarantee that the new game will definitely be a success.”

Jiang Yuan walked to the window with her jade-white bare feet, gazing at the distant skyscrapers, and said in a gentle voice:

“But what I can guarantee is that as long as you come, I won't mistreat you! Salaries will be paid on time, there will be bonuses if the project succeeds, and if the project flops, I'll write you a recommendation letter and help you find your next job.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“Also.”

Jiang Yuan continued:

“I've seen the game you worked on at NetEase before; those concept art pieces for the scenes kept me looking for a long time. At that level in a big company, you can only be a cog in the machine—you finish drawing and that's it. If the project gets popular, it has nothing to do with you; if the project flops, you have to take the blame with everyone else.”

She paused, her voice softening slightly:

“Don't you want to try and see what it feels like to make an independent single-player game from start to finish yourself?”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

The sound of the subway station announcement came faintly:

“Next station, Jing'an Temple...”

“I'm taking a day off tomorrow.”

Su Meng suddenly said.

Jiang Yuan was stunned for a moment: “Ah?”

“To go over to your place and take a look.”

Su Meng said:

“We have to meet, right? What if you're a scammer?”

Jiang Yuan couldn't help but laugh:

“Alright, what time tomorrow?”

“In the afternoon. I'll take the subway; I'll be there in half an hour.”

“Message me when you arrive, I'll come pick you up.”

After hanging up, Jiang Yuan stared at her phone, suddenly feeling a bit sentimental.

This girl Su Meng, though she seemed to hesitate for two days, had probably already made up her mind in her heart, right?

At three o'clock the next afternoon, Jiang Yuan saw Su Meng at the subway station exit.

Shoulder-length short hair, pretty eyes, wearing a pair of thin-framed glasses, a beige trench coat, light-colored jeans, canvas shoes, and carrying a bag of some unknown brand.

She looked a bit thinner and more tired than she did in the video, likely because she had to rush over even after taking a day off.

“Jiang Yuan?”

Su Meng walked over and looked her up and down:

“You look even younger than in your photos, and much prettier too.”

Jiang Yuan smiled slightly and said:

“My home isn't far from here. Let's drop off your things first, then I'll take you to eat.”

Su Meng followed her, looking around as they walked:

“You're right here in Shanghai? Alone?”

“Yeah, my parents are no longer around.”

Su Meng tactfully didn't ask further.

When they reached home, Jiang Yuan poured her a glass of water and let her rest first.

Su Meng sat on the sofa, her gaze sweeping across the living room—the computer, the digital tablet, several game design books, and a pile of takeout boxes, but overall it was quite clean and tidy.

“Your living state is pretty similar to mine,” Su Meng said.

Jiang Yuan said softly:

“Everyone who makes games is like this.”

After resting for half an hour, the two went out to eat, finding a nearby hotpot restaurant. They sat down to order and waited for the pot to boil.

“How many people are in your studio now?” Su Meng asked.

“Including me, currently two,” Jiang Yuan said.

“The programmer is set—Zhou Ming, five years of experience. I'm still recruiting for operations; I have a few candidates, but I'm not very satisfied.”

Su Meng nodded and picked up a piece of beef tripe to swish in the pot.

“Have you thought about the new game?”

“I have a general direction,” Jiang Yuan said.

“Roguelike plus cards, the tower-climbing kind.”

Su Meng's hand paused: “Tower-climbing?”

“Yeah, fighting your way up floor by floor, choosing paths on each floor, encountering monsters, events, and shops, with rewards given after clearing a floor. Cards are the core—players collect cards, build decks, and level up by fighting monsters.”

Su Meng was silent for a few seconds, then said:

“Sounds interesting.”

“It'll be even more interesting when it's made,” Jiang Yuan continued.

“Regarding the art, I want a hand-drawn style—a bit retro, but not too pixelated.”

Su Meng's eyes lit up: “Hand-drawn?”

“Yes, the kind you're good at.”

Su Meng didn't say anything, but Jiang Yuan saw the corner of her mouth curve up slightly.

After eating, the two took a walk along the river for a while.

The evening breeze blew over, carrying a bit of a chill.

The neon lights from the opposite bank reflected on the water, swaying back and forth.

“I have a question,” Su Meng suddenly said.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you look for me?”

Su Meng looked at her: “We've known each other for two years, but to be honest, it's just a relationship where we occasionally chat. You could have completely found someone you're closer to, or hired a headhunter to poach someone. Why me?”

Jiang Yuan was silent for a while.

Because she had seen your drawings.

Because in her predecessor's memory, you were the only person who truly made her feel, "This person is amazing."

Because she knew that the most important thing in making a game is finding the right people, and Su Meng was that right person.

But saying these things would be a bit too sentimental.

“Because you're worth it, it's that simple.”

Su Meng stared at her for a few seconds, then smiled and nodded.

“Alright, I accept that reason.”

Three days after Su Meng went back, she sent a message:

“Resignation letter submitted. I'll start in half a month, is that okay?”

Jiang Yuan replied with one word: “Okay.”

Two more days passed, and Jiang Yuan finally hired an operations person.

Chen Yu, twenty-six years old, with three years of experience in game community operations.

His previous company made mobile games; the project failed, the whole team was disbanded, and he had been lying around at home for half a month. Seeing Jiang Yuan's recruitment ad, he submitted his resume.

During the video call, Jiang Yuan looked at Chen Yu, whose robust physique made him look more like a fitness coach, and asked him in a clear voice:

“Why do you want to work on indie games?”

Chen Yu thought about it and said:

“Because I think indie games have a future. Those mobile games from big factories are, to put it bluntly, just reskins; players will get tired of them sooner or later. But truly fun games will always have people playing them.”

Jiang Yuan nodded.

She liked hearing that.

“Regarding the salary, I can offer fifteen thousand,” Jiang Yuan said.

“Thirteen thousand during the probation period, fifteen thousand after becoming permanent. Full social security and housing fund will be paid, plus a double year-end bonus. Can you accept that?”

Chen Yu did the math and nodded: “I can.”

“Then can you come next Monday?”

“No problem!”

After hanging up the video, Jiang Yuan noted in the document: Operations, Chen Yu, Pending.