After a few drinks,
as the atmosphere grew lively,
the mother-in-law posed a question: "So, when are you and Xinxin planning to get married?"
Was this a probe?
Young Master Cao saw right through it but played it cool.
As if he’d never been married before!
In his dreams, he’d spent a lifetime with a lifelong partner, okay?
But right now, she was still too young.
Young Master Cao didn’t even dare entertain the thought,
lest he be labeled a creep.
So,
his response was simple: he was ready whenever Xinxin felt like tying the knot.
Satisfied with the answer, the mother-in-law didn’t press further.
As for the father-in-law, he kept his head down, drinking silently—no comment on the matter.
But it was clear he’d already accepted this son-in-law.
……
The following days passed uneventfully.
Yet beneath the calm surface, something was quietly brewing.
Across forums, message boards, and websites, the "666 Gang" began appearing.
Under particularly impressive posts, bold statements, or eye-catching images,
within just a few days,
"666" had somehow become shorthand for "smooth," "not bad," "impressive," or "damn good."
Much like how "521," "520," or "886" had once been numerical slang,
this abbreviation caught on instantly—no explanation needed.
And with young people quick to adopt trends,
"666" soon became a viral catchphrase, spilling over from online chatter into real-life conversations.
In barely half a month,
the trend snowballed, spreading unchecked—no intervention, no brakes.
Word of mouth did the rest.
Some curious netizens wondered: when had this slang even started?
It felt like it had popped up overnight!
While "666" was traditionally associated with good fortune ("six-six great luck"), using it to mean "awesome" or "next-level" was entirely new.
A little digging revealed a startling origin.
Baidu Baike had a detailed entry on the term’s roots:
"666" (Internet slang): Originated from Miracle Group. Miracle Cosmetics secured a 10-second New Year’s Eve countdown ad during the Spring Festival Gala for a staggering 66.66 million yuan—averaging 6.66 million per second.
Bidders at the scene were stunned. Applause erupted, and someone shouted, "Niu niu niu!" (Damn good!)
Thus, "666" was born, symbolizing excellence, brilliance, or sheer impressiveness.
The number’s homophonic charm—like "5" for "I" or "6" for "awesome"—sealed its fate.
Miracle Cosmetics, a startup, had stormed into the Spring Festival Gala ad race and dropped a jaw-dropping bid.
Which brings us to the founder behind Miracle—Young Master Cao!
……
The Baike entry laid out a well-documented backstory, name-dropping Miracle Cosmetics and Miracle Group repeatedly.
Of course,
Young Master Cao had orchestrated the Baike page himself—a preemptive move, as few knew the truth yet.
A month had passed since the ad deal.
By late January,
the slang had seeped deeper into online culture, with "666" becoming the go-to expression for praise or admiration.
So damn convenient.
……
February.
A headline broke about this year’s Spring Festival Gala ad revenue.
The Gala’s ad earnings were never small,
though CCTV never disclosed exact figures. That didn’t curb public curiosity.
So,
year after year, headlines speculated about the total haul.
In hindsight, some might recognize this as native advertising.
But at the time, people ate it up.
Read like a damn novel.
Riveting stuff!
The article zeroed in on the "countdown showdown" between Amey Group and Miracle Group.
In reality, there’d been no showdown—but who didn’t love a juicy "corporate battle"?
The piece framed the blind bidding war as a high-stakes psychological duel.
"Regarding this year’s countdown clash,"
"one side was the Gala’s countdown veteran—Amey Group."
"Since 2003, Amey had greeted the nation every New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight."
"It’d become tradition—almost expected."
"Even our editors assumed it’d stay that way."
"But this year was different."
"This year, the new richest man—and youngest billionaire—Cao Cheng, aka Young Master Cao, stepped in."
"No silver spoon, no family fortune."
"He’d clawed his way up from nothing."
"Now, leading his Miracle Group and startup Miracle Cosmetics, he charged into the Gala ad arena."
"Miracle Cosmetics, a premium domestic beauty brand,"
"defied all expectations by outbidding Amey with a record 66.66 million yuan."
"Snapping Amey’s winning streak."
"Breaking it down: Miracle’s 10-second ad cost 6.66 million per second—the most extravagant New Year’s greeting yet."
"Sources say the room fell silent for a full 10 seconds after the bid."
"Then applause exploded…"
"Someone even shouted 'Niu niu niu!'—the origin of the now-viral '666.'"
"……"
That was the gist.
Meanwhile,
Weibo had just rolled out its "Hot Search" feature.
After a 2022 beta test, the public version was still finding its footing.
But Young Master Cao saw potential.
He shelled out a few grand… to buy a spot.
Yep.
Just a few grand.
Dirt cheap.
The trending topic quickly spread across communities, and "666" officially went viral.
No one resists a catchy slang term.
Hot search
This was orchestrated.
……
Only now did some sharp minds connect the dots.
Young Master Cao had planned this all along.
They’d wondered why he’d overpaid by millions just for a "lucky number" (66.66 million).
Turns out,
the layers ran deep.
The waters darker than they seemed.
Who’d have thought? The 66.66 million wasn’t just for a 10-second ad—or at least, not only for that.
It was fuel for the subsequent marketing blitz.
Too damn next-level.
Behind the scenes, ad agencies scrambled.
They dissected Young Master Cao’s playbook,
tracing this campaign back to The Voice promotions.
Many had an epiphany:
Goddamn it.
Every move was calculated.
While people mocked him for overspending on an ad, his focus wasn’t the ad—it was the number itself.
Before the Gala even aired, before the ad played, he’d already recouped the 66.66 million in publicity.
The whole nation knew.
There was also "The Voice."
For a whole year, there was endless bickering back and forth. At times, Miracle Media seemed downright furious, even facing soft boycotts from many industry insiders.
Yet, the publicity for the show was unprecedented—it went viral before it even aired.
Even though many fans of celebrities, like those from Hunan TV, loudly protested and called for a boycott of "The Voice," the attention it garnered was incomparable.
Whether people loved it, anticipated it, hated it, or despised it… at the very least, everyone was talking about it, even inadvertently helping to "promote" it.
Bad publicity is still publicity!
As long as the quality of "The Voice" wasn’t terrible, it was bound to attract a loyal fanbase.
And that’s exactly what happened.
"The Voice" shattered countless records and produced numerous talented singers.
The rights to the show sold for astronomical sums—even internationally.
……
Truth be told,
many had already suspected that Young Master Cao was a master of promotion, single-handedly propelling "The Voice" to its peak.
But,
that was his first time producing a show.
Plus, many who knew Young Master Cao were aware of his habit of arguing with people on stock forums.
Everyone assumed this was just his personality.
Now, however, it’s clear something was off.
When was the last time you saw Young Master Cao picking fights with people in the entertainment industry after "The Voice" ended?
Never, right?
He completely vanished.
Compared to his previous brazen arrogance, he became tens of thousands of times more low-key, didn’t he?
So,
his provocations were all calculated?
What a sneaky bastard.
……
If one success could be dismissed as coincidence,
then two… was no accident.
Especially this time.
Young Master Cao’s control over public sentiment and his precise use of internet buzzwords perfectly tapped into people’s psychology.
Without even realizing it, everyone became part of spreading his catchphrases.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible.
By the time the sponsored articles appeared and the hot searches were bought, people finally grasped that this was all part of Young Master Cao’s scheme to promote Miracle Cosmetics.
Before any product had even hit the market, its fame had already peaked.
You’ve got to hand it to him:
Absolute legend, Young Master Cao!
……
People in the entertainment industry aren’t stupid.
But they were also a little stunned.
Damn.
Right before "The Voice" wrapped up, Young Master Cao dragged everyone into signing contracts, pretending to mend fences—when in reality, he just didn’t need them anymore, right?
He’d already milked them for promotion.
So he ended things with a "reconciliation"?
And everyone thought he was being magnanimous…
Goddammit.
Now it’s clear—this guy was rotten to the core. Even his feud with Little Cannon was probably staged.
Yep.
Definitely staged.
Later, when Miracle Media launched film and TV projects, Little Cannon—because of his grudge with Young Master Cao—would inevitably fire the first shot.
Then Young Master Cao would retaliate.
Not only would he have the moral high ground, but he’d also get free publicity.
What a cunning bastard…
Thinking so far ahead.
Of course,
not many people figured this out. After all, there are only a handful of truly clever folks, and even fewer who understand promotion this well.
At the very least, Little Cannon was clueless. He was still cursing Young Master Cao behind his back, calling him an idiot.
"Spending 66.66 million on ads instead of making a movie? What a dumbass. Doesn’t he know you can just do product placement in films? Isn’t that better than a lousy 10-second New Year’s countdown ad?
So stupid!"
Little Cannon had a few drinks tonight and was in high spirits. At the dinner table, he sneered, "Cao Cheng’s still young—probably got lucky making some money, but he’s clueless about how to spend it. Hahaha~~"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
his freshman year, Su Bai accidentally bound the "Indulgence Tycoon System." 【Sleeping in? Reward: +$1,000】 【Spent $288 at a street barbecue stall? Cashback: +$2,880】 【Dropped $14,396 on in-game skins? Special reward unlocked: A brand-new Porsche Panamera!】 Luxury cars, penthouses, corporate shares, financial empires… College life was all about living freely and doing whatever he pleased! … When the adorably naive academic genius faced family medical bills and financial struggles, Su Bai waved his hand dismissively: "Your future is on me." "Wuwu~ Big Brother is so good to me! I’ll become a scientist to repay you!" When the genius girl got bullied by a shady professor? Su Bai casually dropped a billion-dollar investment, forcing the university to grovel and beg for her return. A company’s funding chain collapsing? Su Bai smirked—cash was the one thing he’d never run out of. Years later, when people traced the rise of the AI prodigy beauty, who was the man behind her success? Not just that—Su Bai also became the tsundere campus belle’s unattainable dream, the contrast senior’s daily necessity, and the beautiful counselor’s emotional anchor…
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
