“Then maybe you should tell Li Xuan later.”
Li Xuan heard this as he entered the office and pushed open the door to the lounge room. “Looking for me?”
“How come your hearing is so sharp?” Qi Boyuan, who was startled by his sudden appearance, asked.
Li Xuan grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “What were you and Senior talking about?”
“Talking about…”
Just as someone passed by the corridor, Qi Boyuan and Chu Tianheng exchanged a glance, and the conversation abruptly stopped.
Li Xuan’s gaze swept over them, understanding what was happening: “Let’s go to my office.”
“Look at this,” Chu Tianheng said, closing the office door and pushing his phone screen toward Li Xuan.
The screen displayed a PowerPoint slide. The angle suggested it was taken sneakily, and the quality was blurry. Li Xuan zoomed in on the image and saw several game names. Some were familiar, while others were less so. The last one was Nook.
“What’s this?” Li Xuan furrowed his brow.
“This was sent to me by a former colleague at Yuanxin,” Chu Tianheng explained cautiously. “Yuanxin holds a summary meeting every six months, and only those at project lead level or higher can attend. They review the work from the first half of the year and mainly set the direction for the next half. They focus on certain games in the market, then assign each project team to analyze them.”
“Sounds like plagiarism,” Qi Boyuan, leaning against the sofa, concluded simply.
“The extent of game copyright infringement is hard to define. As long as it’s not some detailed element being repeated, games of the same type are naturally highly similar,” Chu Tianheng didn’t fully deny it.
“How many of these projects end up being implemented?”
“Not many, maybe about twenty percent,” Chu Tianheng thought for a moment, then listed a few mobile games produced by Yuanxin.
“All of them?”
Chu Tianheng nodded. “These are the ones I found to be highly similar. Fewer than a hundred domestic players have experienced the original versions. The original versions were all niche foreign games. When I was at Yuanxin, we held two summary meetings, and most of the games we analyzed were like this. Some newly released popular domestic games were also discussed, but they rarely made it to the market, and they generally underwent significant changes. Yuanxin has been cautious in this regard. So, over the years, its reputation in the mobile game industry has been okay, and no major scandals have surfaced.”
“So why is Yuanxin targeting Nook this time?” Li Xuan pressed his knuckles against his chin and chuckled. “Is this to elevate our status, or should we say the Yuanxin boss has sharp foresight?”
“Nook has been trending recently. I looked at last month’s revenue—it’s averaging 11% higher per day than Yuanxin’s newly launched ‘Before Nightfall’,” Chu Tianheng gestured for him to look at the next screenshot of revenue data.
“Before Nightfall is a competitive game, right?” Li Xuan glanced at it briefly before pushing the phone back. “I remember Yuanxin only produced two simulation games. The most recent one shut down at the end of the year before last.”
Chu Tianheng nodded. “Because they’ve always thought simulation games weren’t profitable.”
“Oh. Can’t flaunt money,” Li Xuan chuckled, twirling a pen in his hand. “This is internal information—your friend took the risk sending it to you?”
“He resigned last week.” Chu Tianheng relaxed, and his tone lightened.
“Recruit him,” Qu Boyuan suggested immediately.
Chu Tianheng pulled out a chair. “He’s an artist too, recruit him to take my place? …He’s already gone abroad for a PhD.”
“Did he leave because of this?” Qu Boyuan raised an eyebrow. “Senior, you weren’t one of the ones involved, were you? No wonder you didn’t talk about why you left Yuanxin.”
“It’s part of the reason. Big companies hide a lot of dirt. If you can endure it, you stay for a few years; if not, you leave. It’s not exactly something to be proud of.”
Chu Tianheng shrugged and took a sip of water. “From my experience, Yuanxin must see potential in Nook and plan to relaunch simulation games. However, outright copying is unlikely. From the meeting discussion, that’s what I gathered. First, Nook is currently very popular in China, and blatant copying risks public backlash. Second, your code is complex. Even if they replicate the gameplay, achieving 70-80% of its quality would require significant investment. But since they’ve mentioned us, I figured I should give you a heads-up.”
Li Xuan’s expression was unreadable as he lowered his gaze. After a moment, he said, “Got it. Since this is on the table, let’s stay vigilant. If there’s anything new on your end, let me know.”
“Of course,” Chu Tianheng nodded. “That’s about it for now. Oh, and about the concept design for the night scene…”
“I’ve reviewed it,” Li Xuan said. “Don’t change it. Stick with the original version.”
“I thought the new adjustment had a stronger ink-wash feel,” Chu Tianheng hesitated.
“It’s too strong. It clashes with the original tone, and the audience might not respond well to it.”
“I told you he wouldn’t go for it, but you insisted on trying,” Qu Boyuan laughed.
After some thought, Chu Tianheng relented. “Alright, let’s stick with the current version.”
“Thanks… Once the adjustments are done, let’s have a meeting tonight to review recent work,” Li Xuan glanced at his schedule. “Seven o’clock?”
“Works for me,” Qu Boyuan said.
“Same here,” Chu Tianheng stood up. “I’ll go finish the revisions.”
“Alright.”
The office door opened and closed again. Li Xuan took a sip of water and noticed Qu Boyuan still sitting on the couch. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Do you have something to tell me too?”
“Is this the trouble you mentioned last time?” Qu Boyuan got straight to the point.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Li Xuan pondered for a moment. “But you never know.”
Li Mingge had been quiet lately, but as Li Xuan himself said, after nearly ten years as “father and son,” he knew Li Mingge wouldn’t let things go easily. Without causing some serious damage, it was unlikely the matter would settle. Moreover, Shu Xin’s unstable emotions were like a ticking time bomb. Any disturbance could prompt Li Mingge to come back again.
Though these thoughts ran through his mind, his expression remained calm. To Qu Boyuan, he simply said, “The issue hasn’t solidified yet. No need to overreact. Don’t worry about it for now; there’s enough on your plate. I’ve got it under control.”
“As if you don’t already have enough on your plate,” Qu Boyuan remarked but didn’t press further. “By the way, did you hear about Xiao Ding’s resignation? I initiated the process yesterday. Just approve it.”
“Haven’t had a chance yet. What’s her situation? She hasn’t been here long,” Li Xuan opened his email.
“She’s not from N City, and now she has a better job opportunity back home. So, she wants to leave.”
“Alright,” Li Xuan approved it. “Give her an extra month’s salary. She’s working until the end of the month, right? Hurry and find a replacement so she can train them before she leaves.”
Qu Boyuan nodded, about to speak when the door opened again.
“Boyuan.”
Qu Boyuan turned around, surprised, but smiled once he recognized the person. He immediately stood up to greet them. “Why are you back today?”
