Double Eleven was in full swing.
Inside China Star headquarters, the pressure was real.
If they didn't seize this opportunity, the one million+ Star Q1 units sitting in storage could become unsellable once the next-gen phones rolled out.
Midnight struck, and chaos followed.
Within the first minute, someone shouted across the command floor:
"Director Lu, we've already cleared 200,000 orders!"
Haifeng didn't even blink.
200,000 phones sold in sixty seconds.
By 1 a.m., another shout.
"One million!"
The floor erupted.
One million phones sold in one hour.
The number itself wasn't shocking, but the speed was.
Everyone at HQ had pulled an all-nighter to support the campaign. Even department heads were still on-site, watching every metric in real time.
But by 1:30, the momentum started to flatten.
Peak hour was over.
That first midnight-to-one a.m. stretch had always been the hottest window.
Now, with two million more to go and twenty-three hours left, the question was:
Could they still hit the three-million-unit goal?
Haifeng yawned. Not from boredom, but from exhaustion. He hadn't slept properly in days.
"Let them handle the rest," he said quietly, finally ready to head out for some rest.
Elsewhere, rival brands were watching the scoreboard.
Over at Xiaomi HQ, Lei Jun sat stone-faced.
"One-hour phone order volume exceeded 500,000..."
Lin Wen hovered nearby, trying to read the room. But Lei Jun said nothing.
Last year, Xiaomi had crushed Double Eleven, clearing two million units in a single day.
But this time?
Only 500,000 in the first hour.
Even worse, electronics were up 30% year-over-year overall.
The market had grown, but their numbers were shrinking.
Lei Jun sighed.
"It's time we stopped guarding the online market like it's sacred."
"If we want real growth, we need to expand offline. Locking ourselves into this space is suicide."
He wasn't wrong.
The online market was maturing fast, and the pie wasn't growing fast enough to feed every hungry brand.
Meanwhile, Huawei Honor had reason to celebrate.
They'd cleared 450,000 phones in the first hour—shy of Xiaomi, but well ahead of last year's pace.
Last Double Eleven, Honor had only managed 600,000 total in 24 hours.
Now they were likely to blow past that before sunrise.
Zhao Liangyun was visibly pleased.
In his view, if Honor stayed aggressive, they'd outpace Xiaomi and might even challenge the Star series itself.
"Take Xiaomi's road," he muttered. "Leave them nowhere to go."
Back at China Star, Liu Jianyu finally exhaled around 6 p.m.
The last of the Star Q1 units had sold.
Total sales: 2.8 million.
Just shy of the 3 million goal—but close enough to taste it.
At the same time, the Weibo threads lit up with praise.
Everyone who bought a phone after September 1 had received the promised Double Eleven gift pack—one that included credit, coupons, and perks worth the difference from the discount price.
At first, some users were skeptical.
But when the gift packs landed, sentiment flipped.
"It's the same value as the sale price. Respect."
"Okay yeah, I was pissed at first—but they made it right."
"Next year, I might switch to China Star for good. Let's see what their next model brings."
Meanwhile, Samsung and other brands that had dropped prices without offering compensation?
Their early buyers weren't so forgiving.
"Damn. Less than a month and it's down to ¥2666 (≈ $367)? I got robbed."
Samsung gave us nothing. Look at China Star next door—they're sending out gift packs."
"They give a damn. I'm watching their lineup next year for sure."
The mood had shifted.
China Star wasn't just selling phones anymore.
It was building trust.
And trust, once earned, was worth more than any flash sale.