Chapter 65: The Official Promotion of Boundless Elixir

Unbeknownst to most, July was drawing to a close, but the heat showed no signs of relenting. In basin cities like Shudu and the Mountain City, the sun’s fierce rays during the day left the air thick and oppressive at night, as if one were trapped inside a steamer, the heat refusing to dissipate.

It had become something of a custom for Pink-White and Black Cosmetics to hold three online product sales each month. Though each sale saw an increase in stock, the growth was modest at best. This led to many consumers leaving messages on Lady Pink-White’s microblog, pleading for a significant ramp-up in production. The current output simply could not meet demand.

Nevertheless, Deng Qiang continued to implement his plans methodically, sticking to the projected pace. The production line could be expanded at any time, but the raw materials were another matter. Many of the herbal ingredients needed time to grow before they could be harvested. Determined to enter the international market next year, Deng Qiang refused to disrupt the rhythm now, focusing the company’s efforts on expanding the supply of raw materials.

As the end of the month approached, Lady Pink-White would ordinarily become lively, interacting with fans and announcing sale times to capture more attention. But now, with the sale date looming, she was silent, not making a sound. This silence drew groups of female consumers to her microblog, speculating anxiously about what might have happened.

"Has something happened to Pink-White and Black Cosmetics?"
"No way! Please, let nothing go wrong!"
"If something really happened, what about my beauty plan?"
"Why is there still no news about the sale?"
"I’ve got my money ready—I’m just waiting to snap it up and pay!"
"I suspect Lady Pink-White is cooking up a big surprise!"
"Always up to something dramatic, aren’t they?"

Despite the buzz, the cosmetics company remained unresponsive, as if completely oblivious to the commotion. This only heightened the anxiety of their loyal customers. To be fair, the company’s products, though a little expensive compared to low-end brands, were actually quite affordable when measured against high-end cosmetics, especially considering their effectiveness. In fact, among conscientious businesses, this company was a paragon. Their products not only worked but also cost less than luxury brands—no wonder consumers adored them.

Now, faced with the possibility that such an honest company might be in trouble, how could anyone not worry? Everyone who had used Pink-White and Black’s products had seen brighter, smoother skin and an obvious boost in looks, making them even more dependent on these items.

Online, rumors swirled. Some claimed the company’s owner had absconded with his sister-in-law—an absurd story that still found believers. Others said the company’s products had quality issues, and this rumor was taken more seriously. Then there were the customers themselves, who dismissed such talk; as they put it, if these products had quality problems, they wished there were more "bad products" like them. It was easy to see these were just rumors spread by competitors, unable to match Pink-White and Black’s effectiveness and desperate to mislead the uninformed.

But everything changed on July 29th.

That morning, life proceeded as usual—people woke up, ate, commuted to work. Some with less to do scrolled through microblogs, feasting on the latest entertainment scandals, affairs, breakups, and online spats.

At around 9:10 a.m., Pink-White and Black Cosmetics’ official accounts—on microblogs and short video platforms—released an announcement:
“Our latest product is out!!! Confetti.jpg”

With this post came a short, edited video—just about a minute long—and several links to major video platforms hosting a full documentary. As soon as the announcement went live, all the major marketing accounts, influencers, and business promotion accounts who benefited from the company quickly helped spread the word.

Curious netizens clicked on the video, and within moments, the internet was ablaze.

Fans of Lady Pink-White were the first to watch the edited clip. Set to lively, buoyant music, the video showed a timeline at the top marking days of use, while the screen presented the daily transformation of a tester. The final frame froze on a before-and-after comparison: the beginning and two weeks later.

Fans were left reeling:
“I’m stunned after watching this!”
“Is this real? Is it really real?”
“Have the wrinkles really disappeared?”
“Not all, but they’ve definitely diminished!”
“This must be a special effect, right? It’s too extreme!”
“This is basically an elixir of youth, isn’t it?”
“Did we all wake up in a fantasy world overnight?”
“I never expected such an aged face to look young again!”
“Coach, I want…”
“Coach: Get lost, I want it too!”
“Let me ask again, is this really our world?”

With the promotional push, the topics “Pink-White and Black Cosmetics” and “Reverse Aging” simultaneously shot to the top two trending spots. Some entertainment industry insiders, having paid for trending slots themselves, were furious—then, after venting, they joined the buzz. After all, in showbiz, appearances are everything, and a product that erases wrinkles is bound to grab their attention.

Netizens were astonished—not only women, but plenty of men joined the discussion. Some researchers scrutinized the full documentary, asserting that while the video was edited, there were no special effects involved. Others jokingly suggested the company had access to secret immortality techniques. The debate was endless—online chaos akin to a boiling cauldron.

Wit soon followed:
“Ran into a cutie last night. I asked her age afterward. She blushed and told me to call her Grandma…”

Soon after, Pink-White and Black’s official account announced their new product: “Wuqi Serum,” including details on its efficacy and usage. In short, even a single use could visibly tighten the skin and reduce wrinkles—though these were mostly cosmetic effects. To truly erase wrinkles, continuous use was required, along with a diet rich in collagen to enhance absorption. Over time, as the skin’s collagen increased, wrinkles would naturally diminish or disappear.

The moment this product dropped, it ignited widespread discussion. People debated the science behind it, but no one could figure it out. According to the flagship store’s product description, the main ingredients were traditional Chinese herbs—leaving many surprised:
“Since when did traditional medicine get this powerful?”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Am I a fake native?”

As the debate continued, the company released the prices, in line with their usual style: three price points—699 yuan for 200ml, 1,099 yuan for 330ml, and 1,699 yuan for 520ml. It was emphasized that all three had identical quality; only the sizes differed. Like the large and small bottles of Nongfu Spring water, the larger bottles offered the best value. Inventory was limited: one million bottles in total—500,000 at 699 yuan, 300,000 at 1,099 yuan, and 200,000 at 1,699 yuan. All would go on sale at noon the next day, alongside their other products.

This was the highest price point ever for Pink-White and Black Cosmetics, but many praised the company’s integrity. With such miraculous effects, the pricing was considered generous. No wonder their production capacity was always constrained and profits slim.

If another company had these results, they’d plaster the sky with ads and set sky-high prices. If Lu Yu saw these comments, he’d probably die laughing:
“No profit? Why would I bother if it didn’t make money? Wait until our products go international next year, then see if you still think we’re not making a profit!”

Without question, the publicity department had orchestrated a huge success—maximum impact with minimal cost. It was the sort of outcome any boss would love, and the kind of employee anyone would want. Lu Yu was pleased too; after browsing the news, he called Deng Qiang to commend the team and promised bonuses for all, payable in cash or equivalent company products. He also ordered the earlier-promised benefit: after Wuqi Serum was produced, every employee would receive one 520ml bottle, regardless of position.

Deng Qiang agreed and set about arranging it. By the end of the day or the next, every employee would have their company benefit in hand.

Online, the frenzy continued and showed no sign of cooling. Lu Yu, after browsing for a while, lost interest—it was, after all, just the launch of a minor product. He didn’t need to invest too much time or energy. After all, he was a man destined for the stars and the sea.

Putting away his phone, Lu Yu resumed his studies. Lately, he’d been reading more and more books on materials science, deepening his understanding of the entire industry. But the more he learned, the greater his headache grew.

To put it simply, some basic materials could be improved by Lu Yu, but market demand was tiny. He only wanted to license production and collect royalties, but the potential earnings couldn’t possibly cover research costs. Acquiring a company to produce such materials would be troublesome, and running it afterwards even more so—still unprofitable. A wise man would not pursue it.

Other basic materials, if improved, would no longer be for civilian use, but become military or controlled substances. Recipes for such materials were best kept out of private hands; even if produced, the market would be small, export impossible, and profits slim.

Some materials were military or controlled by nature. Lu Yu could improve these as well, but was it really his place to do so now? Did he want to invite scrutiny from the authorities?

As for the basic materials with large market demand, even if he developed them, he’d have to spend enormous effort establishing contacts and negotiating licensing deals—something he currently lacked the reputation or power to do. In sum, research into basic materials was simply not lucrative; no wonder so few domestic companies or institutions pursued it. Only those with great ideals or state funding would take on such thankless, bottomless work.

Others, lacking Lu Yu’s confidence in guaranteed results, would never throw themselves into such a thankless pit when there were easier ways to earn—finance, for instance, or real estate. In the early days, anyone with money could make a fortune in property without needing to do any research.

Lu Yu was troubled. He had to do basic materials research, but it might not be profitable and could even lead to losses. Even with the backing of Pink-White and Black Cosmetics, there was a risk of financial strain. He wasn’t so noble as to burn himself up for the benefit of others. So, the research would have to be done, but when and how required careful thought. For now, it was impossible.

The company was in a phase of aggressive expansion and couldn’t spare funds for his materials research.

And so, the days went on.