Chapter Thirty-Seven: She Cannot Let Him Associate with Other Men

Is it really that hard to topple Nike? For an ordinary person, it certainly is. But He Xinghui is anything but ordinary; his identity as a traveler from another world is truly unique in the entire world. If he focused all his energy on business, taking down Nike wouldn’t be much of a challenge at all.

Right now, his main priority is basketball, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make Nike uncomfortable. A casual borrowing of classic advertisements and marketing strategies from the future would be enough to deal a serious blow to Nike. Take, for example, Kyrie Irving and Pepsi’s Uncle Drew campaign—he could easily adapt that idea.

On his day off, He Xinghui sat in his room scribbling notes, recording important events. Among them, he outlined an advertising plan for next summer. He would disguise himself as an elderly man, provoke some players on the court, get beaten for two rounds, then have his “nephew” bring out a pair of Reebok sneakers. After switching shoes, he’d dominate the game. This would create the subconscious impression that wearing Reebok makes you unstoppable.

Never underestimate the power of such subconscious illusions; so many human behaviors are driven by these subtle beliefs. It’s like the slogan, “Nongfu Spring tastes a little sweet”—once consumers believe it, they’ll instinctively buy Nongfu Spring next time without a second thought.

He Xinghui remembered countless classic and successful campaigns like Uncle Drew. After all, he came from the ad-saturated world of the twenties.

“Boss, you have an appointment with Miss Melissa at two o’clock,” Mark reminded him.

Melissa was a director in Pepsi’s advertising department. Not long ago, both Pepsi and Coca-Cola made offers to He Xinghui—Pepsi’s offer was two million per year, Coca-Cola’s was one and a half million. Beverage endorsements couldn’t compete with sneaker deals in terms of price, so Pepsi’s two million was already very sincere, but He Xinghui wanted more. He proposed his own advertising concepts to Pepsi, but demanded additional payment.

Pepsi was somewhat dismissive; they didn’t believe a muscle-bound athlete could come up with worthwhile advertising ideas. Nevertheless, they didn’t abandon negotiations with He Xinghui, preferring to talk further and persuade him to drop what they saw as childish demands.

When Pepsi sent their negotiator, Mark Collins discreetly suggested they send a woman. Mark was obsessed with worrying about He Xinghui’s potential gay rumors—sometimes he even dreamed that He’s secret would be exposed, his popularity would collapse, and Mark would be out of a job.

He was terrified that if Pepsi sent a handsome man, He Xinghui might be attracted, and some scandal would emerge.

So he did his best to prevent He Xinghui from private meetings with men. Little did he know that when Pepsi heard this request, they nearly suspected Mark of trying to arrange some under-the-table deal, and considered dropping their interest in He Xinghui altogether.

Trying to arrange secret deals for an endorsement—what nonsense.

Fortunately, Melissa from Pepsi volunteered to take on the task. Her thinking was straightforward: if something did happen, at least He Xinghui wasn’t an old geezer. Young, energetic, good-looking, famous, and rich—there were worse prospects.

At two o’clock, at Shelson’s Restaurant, He Xinghui and Melissa sat facing each other. He Xinghui was a bit puzzled; he sensed a strange look from her, even a hint of guardedness. He internally complained—there were enough women who wanted to sleep with him to circle the Staples Center twice, and this woman was actually suspicious of him? Unbelievable.

“He, advertising seems simple on the surface, but actually involves a lot of expertise. Usually, such work is left to professionals,” Melissa said.

“I understand, but that rule only applies to ordinary people. I’m a genius,” He Xinghui replied without the slightest embarrassment, rising to another level of self-assurance.

Melissa could only smile wryly; she didn’t believe athletes could be geniuses. NBA players had a reputation for strong bodies and simple minds, bankrupt after retirement.

“Have a look,” He Xinghui said, not bothering to argue further, handing over his written proposal.

Melissa, though internally skeptical, didn’t refuse to read it. As she read, she was stunned.

He Xinghui’s script was a modified version of a future Pepsi ad mocking Coca-Cola. The scene: he’s playing basketball, takes a break, and asks a ball boy to buy him a drink. The ball boy, too short to reach the Pepsi button on the vending machine, inserts coins and buys two cans of Coca-Cola to stand on. Standing atop the Coca-Cola cans, the boy finally reaches the Pepsi button, purchases a can, and delivers it to He Xinghui. The two Coca-Cola cans are ignored.

The ad gives a psychological suggestion: Coca-Cola isn’t worth drinking, good only for standing on, while consumers prefer Pepsi.

“Brilliant,” Melissa praised.

It promoted their own brand while undermining the competition, and did so in a way that Coca-Cola couldn’t protest—after all, the ad never directly said their drink was bad. Even if it went to court, it would end in a stalemate. Compared to the ad’s impact, any legal trouble was negligible.

“It’s average, really. This is the worst ad I’ve ever written,” He Xinghui said.

Melissa was speechless. She’d heard of his arrogance, but she was still surprised by just how extreme it was.

In her heart, Melissa doubted the ad was really his work. She suspected it came from his team, and He Xinghui was simply taking credit. Such things were common in the entertainment industry—many so-called original singers had entire teams behind them.

But Melissa wasn’t some justice crusader; she cared only about profit. He Xinghui’s creativity could give the ad more buzz—no harm in that.

“My bottom line for the endorsement is still two million a year, but we’ll pay handsomely for this ad concept. I’ll try to secure a good price for you, no less than half a million,” Melissa said.

“I’m here to discuss endorsements. If I wanted to sell creative concepts, I’d go straight to an ad agency. You need to know that I have more ads like this in my head,” He Xinghui replied.

“More?” Melissa was truly shocked now.

Even a professional team would struggle to come up with so many classic campaigns.

“So, after all this, you still don’t believe I’m a genius, do you? My price is four million a year for the endorsement. Anything less, I’m not interested. If you don’t have the authority, you can report to your boss,” He Xinghui declared.

He had proven his worth. If Pepsi didn’t dare to take the risk, then they deserved to be forever second to Coca-Cola.