The entire internet exploded—Sea of the Royal became an overnight sensation.
Starfish Company went all out, buying ad slots on the top four highest-rated TV stations in China. On top of that, major online platforms were saturated with promotional campaigns. Wherever people looked, there was Sea of the Royal.
But the most talked-about post came from none other than the official Weibo account of Marching Ant Company.
Marching Ant's Weibo was notorious for being tight-lipped—rarely endorsing or sharing third-party content. This time, however, not only did they forward the Sea of the Royal campaign, but they even added a cheeky caption. The playful tone instantly turned the post into a viral meme, and the comment section was quickly overrun with emoji spam, banter, and buzzwords.
And so, a new internet slang began to trend:
"Yujie"—a term once meaning "cool big sis" or "domineering beauty"—had now become synonymous with Sea of the Royal.
Forget Viagra—that was yesterday's big brother. Now, Yujie was the queen of the internet.
As curiosity surged, investigative media quickly began digging into the company behind this viral product.
They found that Sea of the Royal was being launched by Starfish Company (Haixing), a joint venture registered less than a month ago with a whopping ¥10 billion in capital. It was a partnership between China's Jianghe Pharmaceutical and European pharma giant Roche.
That detail set off another media storm.
Just weeks ago, investment insiders had whispered about Roche making moves with Marching Ant Company. And now? Here was the proof.
But another question emerged—what exactly is Jianghe Pharmaceutical? It seemed to come out of nowhere.
Digging deeper revealed the twist: Jianghe Pharmaceutical was actually a subsidiary of Marching Ant Holdings Group.
And suddenly, everything made sense.
No wonder Marching Ant's official Weibo had shared the ad. It wasn't just support—it was family business.
Once the connection was confirmed, media coverage exploded:
"Shocking! Marching Ants and Roche Form Historic Joint Venture" — Squirrel Headlines
"The Goddess of the Sea Has Arrived!" — Penguin News
"A Beauty Drug Leads to Marching Ants' Biggest Secret Yet" — Phoenix Times
Thanks to this media wave, massive ad exposure, and Marching Ant's reputation, the name Yujie started to spread like wildfire.
It wasn't just a drug anymore—it was becoming a cultural symbol, replacing bras in women's routines and appearing in jokes, memes, and reaction gifs across the internet.
What made this breakthrough drug so special?
In the past, chest-enhancement supplements existed, but the results were subtle, unreliable, and required long-term use.
Sea of the Royal, however, was effective. Quickly.
With the Marching Ant and Roche names backing it, consumers had full confidence in its safety and efficacy.
Although the product was a prescription medication and had to be prescribed through a hospital's Traditional Chinese Medicine department, that didn't stop the flood of women lining up.
Even those who had planned cosmetic surgery were now canceling appointments and opting for this non-invasive alternative.
No knives.
No implants.
Just results.
At ¥3,000 per treatment course, it wasn't cheap—but compared to surgery, it was a steal. And according to official guidelines, a full transformation could be achieved in as little as three courses.
Hospitals partnered with Haixing Company saw overwhelming demand. Supply ran short in many regions.
In just two weeks, sales had already exceeded ¥3 billion.
At first, some were skeptical. But as real results spread—friends showing before-and-after changes, social media blowing up—the buzz became a storm.
Soon, Yujie wasn't just a meme. It was a mainstream sensation, and Starfish Company had become a household name.
Then came the next bombshell:
Haixing Company announced its second product—"Haizhiwei," a side-effect-free alternative to Viagra.
That announcement sent jaws to the floor.
Starfish had already become every woman's best friend. Now they were coming for men too?
These two markets—beauty enhancement and sexual health—were among the most profitable in the world. Consumers didn't hesitate to spend, and Starfish was capturing both at once.
Some industry insiders were puzzled.
"Isn't Marching Ant a tech company? Shouldn't they be releasing anti-cancer nanobots or future-defining therapies?"
But such questions were soon drowned out by demand. After all, classic Viagra had side effects—dizziness, tinnitus, indigestion, even temporary blindness. Overuse could be dangerous.
In contrast, Haizhiwei promised similar effects with none of the drawbacks—and was competitively priced.
It quickly became the top choice among male consumers.
Haixing had launched two blockbuster drugs in a single month—and taken the entire spotlight.
Meanwhile, Marching Ant itself remained unusually quiet.
Inside the Marching Ant offices, Zhao Min was busy with daily operations. She didn't directly involve herself in Haixing's management.
Tan Yong oversaw Starfish Company. Hou Youliang ran Jianghe Pharmaceutical. With the Marching Ant Group's structure, subsidiaries were mostly autonomous, unless major strategic decisions were involved.
Zhao Min's focus was only on Marching Ant's core business. Delegating power was key to nurturing talent—and maintaining control without micromanaging.
That said, she was still impressed by the outcome.
Haixing's marketing campaign, Roche's strong support, and the effective rollout of both drugs had exceeded all expectations. With Roche's global distribution network, Sea of the Royal had even made a splash internationally.
The name Yujie was trending worldwide.
Haixing had become a new star in the pharmaceutical world.
As Zhao Min worked through her emails, a knock came at the door. Xiao Yu stepped in.
"Zhao Jie, representatives from Pfizer are here. They'd like to speak with you."
Zhao Min paused, set down her pen, and smiled calmly.
"Pfizer? Alright then. Let's go meet them."