0051 Abnormal Prescription Values

"Collaborative promotion?"

Chen Jue was slightly taken aback; he hadn’t expected that after just two video posts, someone would already approach him about a partnership.

He chatted with the other party via private message and quickly understood the nature of this collaboration. On video platforms like B-Station and TikTok, there are product promotion bars beneath the videos. By pinning a merchant's product link either in this bar or at the top of the comment section, you could earn traffic income merely from valid clicks, regardless of whether any purchases were made.

If a sale was made, then a commission would be earned on each transaction.

Many internet celebrities made a fortune from these business deals.

But it was Chen Jue's first time encountering such an offer, so he decided to be cautious and used his office computer to do some research online.

Making side income at work with the company’s computer—Chen Jue had truly taken the art of “slacking off” at Hengtong to its peak!

After a round of research, he confirmed that this kind of promotion was just the most basic form of collaboration. Later, more advanced custom partnerships would include “hard ad placements,” where creators produced dedicated promotional videos for merchants.

Those deals were priced based on follower count and video influence—expensive stuff.

Right now, his specialty account didn’t even have ten thousand followers, so his influence was limited and no one would pay him for such high-end ad placements.

After considering, he agreed to the offer from this merchant who had proactively reached out.

To play it safe, Chen Jue first created a small alt account and added the contact via WeChat, then asked what products they sold.

To his surprise, it was a studio specializing in cold weapons!

The studio, called Rainbow Light, produced swords, Tang blades, spears, martial arts throwing darts, traditional bows, and more. Their designs were unique, they accepted custom orders, and their sales across various e-commerce platforms were quite decent.

The throwing darts Chen Jue had previously bought online were from this very studio.

What a coincidence!

With this partnership, he could now ask for discounts in the future if he wanted custom darts or other cold weapons just for fun.

After settling the deal with the marketing manager from Rainbow Light Studio, Chen Jue followed the video platform’s promotional tutorial and added Rainbow Light’s shop link backstage.

The operation was simple—practically a foolproof one-click process, with no need for Chen Jue to sign any contracts.

Since this was a third-party promotion, the contract was between the merchant and the platform; the creator just took a commission, with the platform keeping the lion’s share.

“Does this mean I’ve started ‘eating rice’?” [meaning: started monetizing]

“Didn’t expect it to happen so fast!”

Chen Jue flexed his fingers. It had only been a week since he started posting videos.

For a merchant to approach him so soon, he had to thank his own exceptional skill in “projectile throwing.” Without a unique talent, he wouldn’t have attracted so many clicks and comments.

...

With the first step of his side hustle a success, Chen Jue was in high spirits.

Even his afternoon “slacking off” training was especially enthusiastic.

He rotated through grip strength trainers, horse stance, acupressure, and eye exercises. Since the cubicles provided some privacy, most colleagues couldn’t see his little maneuvers—only his neighbor, Shen Shikun, had a partial view.

While training and relaxing, he also looked up information on sports that interested him, and in nearly no time at all, he’d finished processing his system-assigned A-list clients, gaining 0.02 free attribute points. The afternoon flew by.

As for these so-called A-list clients, from a banking perspective, they referred to high-quality customers like public institution employees and civil servants. These clients had stable jobs, large asset bases, were valued in the financial industry, and had enduring credit and steady finances.

Approving loans for such clients was virtually risk-free; out of ten thousand, only a handful might default, and even they would usually pay up later. Chen Jue could always approve these with his eyes closed.

Now, at Hengtong, with a powerful risk control system filtering applications in advance, the approval process was lightning fast—almost instantaneous.

Still, seeing his neighbor Shen Shikun also madly clicking his mouse to blitz through client approvals, obviously eager to get off work, with zero regard for client segmentation, overdue rates, or risk, Chen Jue couldn’t help but be stunned, exclaiming inwardly: “Good heavens!”

The workday lasted eight hours, but the two of them probably spent less than half a minute on their actual tasks. The rest of the time was spent daydreaming or slacking off.

For Hengtong Group to hire both Chen Jue and Shen Shikun, it must have been cursed with bad luck for eight generations!

...

When the clock struck the end of the workday, Chen Jue changed clothes, clocked out, and slipped away.

Maybe thanks to practicing the horse stance, his balance had improved—he felt much smoother going down the stairs.

He timed himself descending to the parking garage: four minutes and thirty seconds, thirty seconds faster than yesterday.

“I’ve seen those parkour masters in short videos—they go down a whole flight in a second, two seconds per floor. Seventeen floors in nonstop jumps would only take about half a minute?”

Chen Jue mused inwardly, realizing he still had plenty of room for growth.

He drove out of Hengtong, but instead of heading straight back to his dorm, he stopped at a chain optical shop in a nearby commercial street.

Staring at the computer all day, he’d realized his old glasses no longer matched his current prescription. They were uncomfortable after long wear, so he decided to replace them.

As soon as he entered the shop, a staff member in a white coat greeted him enthusiastically. “Hello, sir! Here to get new glasses? Would you like an eye exam first?”

Chen Jue nodded, took off his old glasses, and handed them over.

Chain optical stores like this were well-equipped and staffed by professional optometrists. In just a few minutes, they’d measured his old lenses.

“Left eye: 550, right eye: 600, both with astigmatism. These glasses must be a few years old, right? The material is pretty outdated. Not changing them for so long, your prescription must have increased significantly!” The optometrist handed him a slip with the results and commented from experience.

“They are a few years old,” Chen Jue replied, and followed the staff into the exam room.

He rested his chin on the optometry device; the familiar green field and red house appeared in each lens.

But when the real-time readings came up, the optometrist was stunned.

“Huh? Your prescription went down?”

“Left eye: 450, right eye: 500. That’s a big difference from your old glasses!” The optometrist double-checked, re-examined Chen Jue twice, but got the same result each time.

Now he was really confused.

Anyone who’s worn glasses knows that once nearsightedness starts to increase, it rarely goes back down—unless you’ve had corrective surgery or are among the rare few whose eyesight spontaneously improves.

But Chen Jue clearly hadn’t had any surgery, so the results left the optometrist flummoxed.

Unwilling to believe it, he tried a few more times, but the results didn’t change. The optometrist and his assistant could only marvel at the anomaly.

After some delay, they finally let Chen Jue try on different lenses and read the eye chart.

“Up, down, left, right…”

Factoring in astigmatism from the test lenses, Chen Jue’s prescription seemed to have improved significantly compared to when he last changed glasses: left eye at 480, right at 520.

“Would you like a new frame, sir? And which lenses would you prefer? We carry Zeiss, Essilor—imported, high-end brands,” the staff eagerly pitched him.

These days, getting glasses in a brick-and-mortar store wasn’t cheap. Especially imported lenses—a custom pair could easily cost several thousand yuan.

But since Chen Jue had mastered red light therapy and eye exercises for vision improvement, his prescription was dropping daily. No point in splurging on expensive glasses that would be obsolete in days, gathering dust.

So he chose the cheapest domestic lenses.

Not only that, he picked the lowest quality option—frame and lenses together for just a hundred yuan.

“Really? You want the lowest grade?” The staff was bewildered. Most customers sought better lenses for comfort and eye protection.

Low-grade resin lenses yellowed quickly and lacked quality features. Few would choose them.

But Chen Jue not only wanted a cheap pair—he gave a list: “Get me one pair each at 300, 200, and 100 degrees as well, all with this frame. I can swap them myself.”

“What? Will you even use all those prescriptions?” The staff was at a loss.

She couldn’t have imagined this odd young man actually possessed the ability to correct his own vision!

After confirming with Chen Jue and receiving the payment, she gave the four prescriptions to the optician to start processing the order.