lerbook Chapter 358 Wang Huabing's Last Way Out
Chapter 358 Wang Huabing's Last Way Out
Wang Huabing turned to the last page of the report and saw eight words written in the summary section: "Overall performance continued to decline."
These eight words were like eight needles piercing his heart.
He's in his early forties and has been working on Weibo for almost ten years.
He rose from a regular operations staff member to director, experiencing several major company transformations along the way, and each time he was at the forefront.
During Weibo's most glorious years, he single-handedly built up the gaming section.
He negotiated collaborations with major game developers and signed exclusive agreements with top streamers, increasing the daily active users of the gaming section from several million to tens of millions.
Back then, he was a key contributor to the company. The boss would specifically praise him during meetings, and he received the biggest year-end bonus. He walked with a swagger.
But now, all the credit has been overshadowed by those eight words.
"Overall performance continues to decline."
Wang Huabing closed the report, tossed it aside, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling.
He couldn't understand it. He really couldn't understand it.
He admitted that TUTU did a good job, and Lu Ran was indeed quite capable, but how could Weibo have lost so badly?
Weibo has been around for so many years, with a mature user base, a well-established operating system, and tens of thousands of cooperation channels.
TUTU has only been around for less than a year, so how did it manage to completely dominate Weibo's gaming section?
He actually knew the answer, but he just didn't want to admit it.
TUTU did one thing right – they integrated the gaming community with the live streaming platform.
When you watch a live stream on TUTU, you can easily click into the game community to browse posts.
You see someone recommending a fun game in the community, and you can easily check if anyone is streaming it. Weibo can't provide this seamless experience.
Weibo's live streaming business has never really taken off. There's a wall between the gaming section and the live streaming section, making it inconvenient for users to switch between them, and they eventually lose interest.
There was another reason, which Wang Huabing didn't want to mention, but he knew it in his heart.
Tencent.
Tencent's abandonment of Weibo and its shift to TUTU is a huge blow.
A large portion of the content in Weibo's gaming section comes from Tencent Games' partners.
When Tencent withdrew, its partners followed suit.
Less content means fewer users. Fewer users mean even less content.
It's a vicious cycle; it spins faster and faster, and keeps falling lower and lower.
Wang Huabing had considered various solutions.
Over the past six months, he has made many attempts. He approached several leading game companies to discuss exclusive partnerships, hoping to win back users with exclusive content.
He upgraded the recommendation algorithm for the gaming section, aiming to make good content more easily visible.
He even paid out of his own pocket to hire several livestreamers to try and revive the livestreaming business.
But all the attempts were to no avail.
Those game companies say "we value Weibo as a platform," but they still release their most important content first on TUTU.
No matter how well the recommendation algorithm is optimized, without good content, even the smartest algorithm can't achieve anything remarkable.
The streamer he hired paid for himself only streamed for a few days before stopping because the viewership was too low. The same content had hundreds of thousands of viewers on TUTU, but only tens of thousands on Weibo. Streamers aren't stupid.
Wang Huabing sighed, sat up straight, and reopened the report.
He stared at the "Games" section for a long time, then turned the report to the competitor analysis page.
That page listed Weibo's main competitors in the gaming field.
Each competitor's name is followed by a string of data, and each string of data is more interesting than Weibo posts.
Wang Huabing's gaze lingered on the last sentence of the competitive analysis report: "Faced with the entry of international giants such as EA, Weibo needs to find a new breakthrough as soon as possible, otherwise the loss of users in the gaming section will further intensify."
EA.
Wang Huabing stared at the two letters for a while, and suddenly an idea popped into his head.
EA's Wildlands is currently gaining momentum, with its user base increasing daily.
This game doesn't yet have a stable community platform in the Chinese market. Players discuss it on TUTU, watch videos on Bilibili, browse video clips on Douyin, and switch between various platforms.
What if Weibo could attract EA's users?
It's not about directly competing with TUTUs, but about finding a different path.
EA's gamers and TUTU's core users are not entirely the same group of people.
TUTU started out with League of Legends and domestic games, and its users are mainly MOBA and domestic online game players.
EA's players tend to be hardcore, enjoy AAA titles, and have higher demands for game quality.
These people have a so-so feeling about TUTU; they need a more professional and international community platform.
Weibo has an opportunity.
The more Wang Huabing thought about it, the more feasible this direction seemed.
He picked up a pen and wrote a line in the blank space of the report: Contact the EA China team to discuss exclusive community cooperation.
After he finished writing, he looked at the line of text and felt it wasn't quite enough.
Having a platform alone is not enough; you also need content.
Without content, users won't stay even if they come.
He needs a group of people who can produce content related to EA games—strategy writers, video creators, streamers, and tournament commentators.
Where are these people? On TUTU, on Bilibili, on Kuaishou and Douyin. Recruiting them won't be easy.
But just because it's not easy doesn't mean it's impossible.
Wang Huabing picked up his phone, scrolled to a contact in his address book whose name was "EA Dragon Country Marketing Department," stared at the name for a few seconds, and didn't dial.
He needs to figure out how to talk to them first.
EA is not Sakura Games.
Sakura Games lacks a foothold in the Chinese market and needs a large platform like Tencent to pave the way for them.
EA is different. EA has Perfect World as a partner, so it's not impossible for them to operate without Weibo as a distribution channel.
But he has something that Perfect World can't give to EA—users.
They are not game users, but general entertainment users.
Although Weibo has lost a significant number of users, it still has nearly 200 million users.
Not all of these people are gamers, but a large portion of them are interested in games.
If managed properly, these people can be converted into potential users of EA games.
Moreover, Weibo's social networking attributes are also attractive to EA.
EA's games are well-made, but they have always been relatively weak in terms of social aspects.
Players who have finished playing the game want to discuss it with others, share their achievements, or play with friends, but there isn't a good platform.
Weibo can fill this gap.
Wang Huabing mentally reviewed the interests of both parties and felt he was 50% confident that the deal could be reached.
Fifty percent isn't high, but it's worth a try.
He picked up his phone and dialed the number.
The phone rang several times before being answered. The other end spoke in a polite but businesslike tone: "Mr. Wang, long time no see. What can I do for you?"
Wang Huabing took a deep breath, making his voice sound confident enough: "Mr. Li, I would like to talk to you about EA's community cooperation in the Chinese market."
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone: "Go ahead."
"Weibo currently has nearly 200 million daily active users. Although the proportion of game users has decreased, the absolute number is still very large. A large portion of these users are potential EA users. They have a demand for high-quality games and the ability to spend money. If EA reaches an exclusive community partnership with Weibo, we can provide EA's games with a stable user base, helping EA build a deeper user foundation in the Chinese market."
He added, "I know EA has a partnership with Perfect World, but that's at the product level. The community level is a different matter. Perfect World can't build a community; their strength lies in product operation and channel distribution. Weibo is different; we've been in social media for over a decade, and our specialty is bringing people together."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, then a voice said, "Mr. Wang, your idea is very interesting. I need to report to headquarters, so I can't give you an answer immediately."
"Understood. I'll wait for your message."
"Okay. I'll contact you if there's any progress."
After hanging up the phone, Wang Huabing put his phone on the table, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long sigh.
He received neither good news nor bad news, but instead was told that "a report is required."
He'd heard that kind of talk far too many times.
In business negotiations, "needs to report" is often a euphemism for "it's hopeless".
If the other party is genuinely interested, they will say, "Let's schedule a time to discuss this in detail," rather than "I'll wait for me to report to headquarters."
But he didn't want to give up.
This is his last chance.
If even EA (Electronic Entertainment) doesn't work out, his days on Weibo are truly over.
Wang Huabing stared at the ceiling, and a picture suddenly popped into his mind—Lu Ran sitting somewhere, saying to the camera, "The future of the Chinese game market should be in the hands of the Chinese people themselves."
He saw this quote on TUTU, but he doesn't know who forwarded it.
At the time, he thought Lu Ran was talking big. What qualifications did the founder of a small company that had been around for less than two years have to talk about the future of China's game market?
But he doesn't think that way anymore.
It wasn't because he agreed with Lu Ran's point of view, but because he realized that he was no longer qualified to stand on the opposite side of Lu Ran.
His platform is declining, his users are leaving, and his influence is shrinking.
Lu Ran's platform is growing, with more and more users and increasing influence.
The distance between the two people has been widening over the past six months.
So much so that Wang Huabing sometimes feels a bit dazed when he thinks about it.
He shook his head, banishing these random thoughts, picked up the report on the table again, and turned to the page on competitive analysis.
TUTU.
Tencent.
Bilibili (B站)
Shake it quickly.
NetEase.
EA.
He picked up his pen and circled EA.
This is his only hope now.
...