Chapter 964: We

Zheng Qiudong and Luo Yiren left Hangzhou to conduct business, earn money, and build their reputation, while also reminiscing about the past to deepen their bond.

Over these past few days, Zheng Qiudong and Luo Yiren completed their operational handover with Wang Yan and his wife. Calling it a handover was misleading—there were no complex tasks involved. In fact, Hangzhou’s finances were not independent; as the company’s CFO, Wang Yan knew the situation well.

It was mostly just Luo Yiren and Xiong Qingchun chatting casually, gossiping about employees and discussing other plans. Zheng Qiudong merely went over the ongoing unfinished projects with Wang Yan, who would continue handling them.

They also took time to give training sessions to employees, sharing experience. The workflows were identical—Zheng Qiudong had learned them from Wang Yan in Nanning and simply replicated them in Hangzhou.

More important than work was another matter: the car ordered from their fourth son’s dealership had arrived, and Xiong Qingchun was notified to pick it up.

They bought three cars total: a Buick GL8 for business receptions, a top-spec Passat chosen by Zheng Qiudong. Zheng Qiudong regretted it—he’d originally said a car under 200,000 yuan was fine, and out of pride he couldn’t change his mind. His regret stemmed from the third car: a silver Mercedes E-Class, which looked incredibly stylish.

Though he claimed “any car will do, just get a ride,” the contrast was undeniable, especially since all were company expenses—he felt he’d been shortchanged.

He thought saving a little was better, but his good brother had truly followed through, enjoying the luxury ahead of time. After all, a nearly 500,000-yuan car was already luxury—normal family cars, let alone for ordinary people, let alone second-tier people, couldn’t afford them…

As the dealership manager droned on about how the car was supposed to take a month but he’d gone out of his way to secure one, Wang Yan stared at the decorated vehicle. Though his heart remained unmoved, his face beamed with delight as he thanked the manager and let Xiong Qingchun drag him beside the car for photos.

At this moment, what he thought didn’t matter—what mattered was playing his part perfectly, expressing the right emotions.

Xiong Qingchun was satisfied. She removed all unnecessary wrappings, tore off every film on the spot, got into the driver’s seat, started the car cautiously, shifted gears, and drove off.

“You know what? This luxury car really is good.”

Driving down the road, Xiong Qingchun focused intently, sighing, “Honestly, I never thought I’d drive a car this nice in my life.”

Wang Yan leaned against the window, propping his head, relaxed in the passenger seat: “This is nothing. If we keep growing, we’ll be driving Porsches in two years.”

“Forget it. This car’s enough. Let’s save money. House prices change daily—experts keep predicting a drop, and they’ve been saying it for years, yet prices keep rising. I think they’ll keep going up. Hangzhou’s developing well—it’ll rise even more. The sooner we buy, the more we profit. If prices rise by 2,000, think how many deals we could make with that difference.”

“I may not be talented, but I’m confident I can outpace housing prices. Hey, watch the road—why are you glaring?”

Wang Yan waved his hand. “A house costs millions. If we pull money from the company, the books must show at least tens of millions. I’m the boss with the most shares, but what about Qiudong? If I buy a house, won’t he buy one too? This isn’t a dictatorship—you can’t just decide to withdraw funds.”

“Then let’s withdraw two or three million each—give Qiudong two or three million too, as a loan. We’ll take out a mortgage to buy the house, then raise our salaries to cover monthly payments and repay the company.”

“That makes sense, but what did I just say? I’m confident I can outpace housing prices. Compared to that, buying two houses involves too many expenses—it’s not maximizing returns. I know owning property means having a home, but just like with the car, we can wait a bit longer.”

“If we’d delayed buying a car by a year, what do we have now? Three cars. Don’t be so impatient. Everything is developing, changing—tomorrow will be better.”

“I never said I’d buy tomorrow!”

“I know. You get the spirit—good food waits.” Wang Yan grinned, gently pushing her face back. “Watch the road. Minor scratches cost thousands; a major accident costs our lives. Drive with focus. I’ve only had freedom for less than a year—I’m not ready to die yet.”

“I’m an experienced driver, you know!”

“Then show me how you shift gears.”

“It’s an automatic!”

“Then you’re not nearly skilled or experienced enough.”

“What are you saying? I’m just—” She turned her head, locking eyes with Wang Yan, then followed his downward gaze…

“Get lost! I’m driving! You really think you’ve lived long enough?”

“I’m driving too, aren’t I?”

Xiong Qingchun shot him a sultry glare and punched him, then drove calmly back to the company…

Only now did Wang Yan truly begin his work in Hangzhou.

Hangzhou was more developed, with a more thriving freelance market. But Zheng Qiudong hadn’t invested much effort here—he looked down on freelance business. Wang Yan’s success in Nanning hadn’t made Zheng Qiudong take this seriously; instead, he relaxed further, confident that Nanning would back him up.

After developing the market enough to cover operating costs, Zheng Qiudong unhesitatingly abandoned freelance business to focus on proper headhunting. But “abandoned” didn’t mean truly abandoned—it meant he ignored it. As long as profits didn’t fluctuate much, he didn’t care, leaving it entirely to the staff handling freelance work.

This was wrong. Even a mosquito’s blood is blood, especially since freelance work connected to future internet products must be done. Not just Hangzhou—Shanghai, Nanjing, Suzhou in the Yangtze River Delta must all be covered, then expanded to the Pearl River Delta and Beijing.

By then, the product would have matured. Launching freelance services in these developed regions would naturally extend to full-time recruitment, directly targeting platforms like 58.com and Liepin. Later, introducing group-buying selections would stir up other group-buying apps.

But before that, his product had to face off against review platforms…

So Zheng Qiudong had done well: even without expanding the freelance market, Hangzhou’s inherent advantages had already generated 200,000 yuan in revenue, covering costs and yielding surplus. But it was only “well”—the market here was larger; another 200,000 yuan would be effortless.

Yet Zheng Qiudong stopped expanding. He assigned two staff to maintain existing business, handle connections, and only occasionally took on new referrals. In the process—or due to other factors—some clients inevitably left. Losses were offset by new gains, maintaining overall stability.

Clearly, this was insufficient.

While Hangzhou branch staff expected their boss to shine, Boss Wang ignored Zheng Qiudong’s few small deals and handed them to Xiong Qingchun. Instead, he focused on the freelance market.

First, he expanded the team—acting swiftly. On day one, he interviewed and hired two people; on day two, he personally took them out to pitch freelance business.

For Wang Yan, this communication-heavy business was the same in any city—he was always trustworthy and never let anyone who treated him kindly down.

If someone could be talked to, he could always talk them into it. Minor demands, back-and-forth negotiations—trivial matters, since everyone made money. If someone couldn’t be convinced, no need to force it. As he’d once taught Huang Zimu: if one doesn’t work, move to the next. Bad attitude? Just smile and let it go. Most people didn’t arrive with hostility; bad attitudes were understandable, but few actively sought trouble—though exceptions existed.

Those who sought trouble were a welcome distraction for Wang Yan. For the two fresh college graduates learning from him, they were a real lesson in what society was truly like—crucially important.

Fresh graduates, even those who’d been out a year or two, still carried youthful naivety. You could call it unwillingness to grow up, or failure to adapt to the real world—either way, they lacked grit.

Wang Yan kept his Nanning schedule: go out in the morning, find lunch, stroll around, work through the afternoon, return to the company near closing to check freelance connections and headhunting staff progress, help resolve issues. Then, except for the accountant, everyone ate a hearty dinner together at the office. Afterward, Wang Yan held a class, and they finished at eight.

Overtime pay? None—it was professional training. Wang Yan himself was full of skills; even learning a fraction of his methods would benefit these people for life.

This state didn’t last long—only a month. Most staff were trained; the two new hires for freelance business had begun working independently. Having followed Wang Yan for a month, under his direct guidance, though inexperienced and imperfect, they’d already generated results.

Wang Yan didn’t usually plan three steps ahead, but these hires weren’t random—they were strong candidates with high potential, well-compensated. Once proficient and experienced, they’d become pillars for future expansion.

At this time, autumn had cooled the Jiangnan region. Zheng Qiudong and others returned from their successful mission to Qu Minjing and Minjing, and Lin Bai stopped by on his way. Te Hui Zhuan Lie was also nearby—not far at all.

Everyone sat in Zheng Qiudong’s large office, smiling.

Wang Yan raised his teacup: “Congratulations on your triumphant return. I toast you with tea.”

Zheng Qiudong and the others laughed heartily and enjoyed the tea, which was excellent—the first pick of this year’s Longjing. When Zheng Qiudong arrived in spring, during the early startup phase, he hadn’t buried himself in work; at Wang Yan’s urging, he’d taken a few walks just as the new tea was being released. Knowing his love for tea, Zheng Qiudong had called to inquire and bought plenty using company funds.

Zheng Qiudong preferred coffee; his tea remained mostly untouched, all saved for Wang Yan.

After sipping tea, Zheng Qiudong said: “Brother Yan, thanks to your earlier reminder to mention my past during conversations—I’d have been screwed. I’ll tell you, Brother Yan, back then, we…”

He recounted how, in the original plot, Qu Minjing saw Zheng Qiudong and Lin Bai appear in the same frame as the person who had risen to power, suspected a connection, and developed a misunderstanding and resentment toward Zheng Qiudong.

Now, Zheng Qiudong had openly revealed his past early, establishing an honest impression. Qu Minjing gave him a chance to explain further.

Originally, Luo Yiren had explained Zheng Qiudong’s past to Qu Minjing, who then watched Zheng Qiudong’s video confessing his past at Mediterranean Bank and vowing to become sincere—only then did Qu Minjing give him another chance.

Because of Wang Yan, Zheng Qiudong avoided that experience; because of Wang Yan, he successfully completed the deal—this was precisely why Wang Yan had spoken up earlier.

Qu Minjing’s recruitment truly benefited the company’s development; otherwise, he wouldn’t have cared whether it succeeded.

After hearing Zheng Qiudong’s story, Wang Yan smiled and nodded: “So I contributed too—I deserve some credit, ha! Well then, Lin Bai, don’t leave. It’s afternoon already. Let’s chat, then celebrate somewhere.”

“Sure, I’ve got nothing else to do—happy to join the fun,” Lin Bai agreed readily, determined to be a good sport.

“Brother Yan, I heard you turned freelance revenue from 200,000 to 500,000 in a month?” Luo Yiren blinked, feigning ignorance.

Wang Yan glanced at her, seeing no hidden meaning—just normal, exaggerated praise.

He smiled at her: “Hangzhou is more developed than Nanning. More freelancers here, bigger market. Adding 300,000 isn’t surprising. Qiudong never boosted this side before, and I’ve been out running the streets for a full month.”

“Brother Yan is too modest—I couldn’t do half as much,” Zheng Qiudong waved his hand.

“Same here. This month was because of me. Next month I’m done—I’ll hand it over. Fifty thousand? Doubtful. Holding at forty thousand is success.”

“Boss Wang, you seem to value freelance business—preparing for future products?”

“Partly. But mostly for profit. Forty to fifty thousand monthly—that’s five to six million yearly. Is this a small business? Our investment? Four fresh graduates. Salary, commissions, social security, food, drinks—all together, no more than 50,000 yuan. Isn’t this a great business?”

Wang Yan raised an eyebrow at Zheng Qiudong: “You’re too high-minded. Headhunting sounds fancy, but it’s still a middleman. How much can you personally recruit in a year? Six million?”

“I was wrong, Brother Yan.”

“You did fine,” Wang Yan shook his head, smiling. “I mean—you need to be more steady.”

“I get it. Boss Wang is telling you: recruiting Qu Minjing isn’t the end. Even bigger figures will come. Stay grounded, stay humble. Am I right, Boss Wang?”

He was doing reading comprehension? Wang Yan chuckled: “I meant it literally. I’ve known Qiudong longer—he’s energetic, but when fired up, he gets restless, unfocused. Yiren, this task was yours originally. Now I’m giving it back to you.”

Luo Yiren covered her mouth, smiling: “Only your good brother’s words make him listen. I can’t get through to him.”

Xiong Qingchun nodded: “They’re the same—big-man syndrome. Both are stubborn, need gentle handling.”

“You manage them, Brother Yan—we’re both donkeys now.”

“Hey hey hey, I’m still here!” Lin Bai groaned, looking disgusted.

Wang Yan asked: “Is your wife in Hangzhou? Invite her tonight—we should meet.”

“She’s here. She wants to meet you too. She even said she’ll hang out with Boss Luo and Boss Xiong.”

“Hey Lin Bai, we’re all close now—why call them Boss Luo and Boss Xiong? So formal. Call her Yiren, call me Qingchun.”

“Exactly, Lin Bai, we’re criticizing you,” Luo Yiren chimed in sweetly.

“Yes yes yes, Qingchun, Yiren, Yiren, Qingchun—familiar enough? Then I’ll call you Brother Yan, like Qiudong?”

“They’re just nicknames—I don’t care. But I have one thing to remind you.”

Wang Yan smiled at Lin Bai: “Counting Nanning and Hangzhou, last month Yan Chunqiu’s profit was 1,174,689.53 yuan—officially broke the million mark. A milestone month. Your successful recruitment of Qu Minjing has surely stirred some industry buzz. Clearly, Yan Chunqiu’s business will improve.

I had nothing better to do, so I recalculated the valuation. Conservatively, I think 62 million is reasonable. You’d better think carefully.”

Lin Bai froze, then opened his mouth to speak…

Wang Yan interrupted: “I’ve said before—Yan Chunqiu’s door is always open. Come anytime. I remember our earlier talk—I’m just updating you, letting you know. No matter what, it won’t hurt our friendship. I deeply respect you.”

Lin Bai smiled bitterly and nodded. What could he say?

The words had no flaw—but everyone present knew Wang Yan was creating pressure. He was certain: if Lin Bai didn’t act this month, next month Wang Yan would mention company performance again, casually dropping a new valuation.

“I fully support Brother Yan’s decision, Lin Bai—Yan Chunqiu’s door is always open,” Zheng Qiudong grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Lin Bai was speechless…