Chapter 965: Getting the Certificate

Lin Bai naturally joined the team, one week after he had dinner with his wife and Wang Yan and the others.

There was no doubt this was a wise choice.

Lin Bai had certainly given it deep thought and conducted thorough research; he certainly wasn’t judging by the company alone—after all, if the person wasn’t capable, the company wouldn’t succeed. He had known Zheng Qiudong for a long time, understood Zheng Qiudong’s abilities, and had seen Zheng Qiudong’s low points. But his understanding of Wang Yan was far from sufficient, and Wang Yan was the true leader.

So over the past period, he had been investigating and learning, spending quite a bit of money. He dug deep—from Wang Yan’s school days all the way to his imprisonment, even interviewing those who had been beaten nearly to death. Most importantly, of course, he focused on Wang Yan’s development after release.

He was professional, cautious, and meticulous—truly walking on thin ice. But he should have been; at this point, one couldn’t make such a major decision on a whim.

After his investigation, he clearly understood just how formidable Wang Yan was. Especially over the past month, as he spent every day with Zheng Qiudong, he learned even more—details from prison, as well as company matters. He had heard then that Wang Yan was focusing intensely on the part-time business.

Since meeting Zheng Qiudong in Hangzhou and hearing about his part-time business, he had researched the part-time market. Zheng Qiudong managing to reach 200,000 was already difficult; if it were truly that simple, Zheng Qiudong would have kept doing it—200,000 already represented a huge share.

But he never expected Wang Yan to be so aggressive—within a single month, he turned 200,000 into 500,000. That was a clear demonstration of strength; otherwise, such ease wouldn’t be possible. Understanding and mastering various industries, communicating effectively with clients and personnel, efficiently handling tedious and complex tasks—these were all signs of ability.

Thus, after even more careful consideration, Lin Bai concluded Wang Yan was formidable and made a wise decision.

As Wang Yan had originally said, Lin Bai’s five million yuan investment would still be valued against the company’s total valuation of 62 million yuan, giving Lin Bai 7.46% of Yan Chunqiu’s shares, with Wang Yan and the others diluting accordingly.

But Wang Yan remained the largest shareholder, still the absolute boss, holding 50.01% of the shares himself; no one else would ever join to split equity—at most, he might grant shares or dividends to capable subordinates.

In fact, Wang Yan and the others weren’t stingy—the company’s benefits were already high, and he had always been generous.

As for control of the company, Wang Yan still held final authority. But often, he said nothing—Zheng Qiudong and the others could do as they pleased, as long as they didn’t lose money. Overall, it was democratic centralism: everyone discussed, but he alone made the final call.

“Alright, unanimously approved by our board: base salaries will rise to 20,000 yuan per month, with normal performance bonuses—effective next month on the fifth.”

“Brother Wang, thanks.” Lin Bai nodded to Wang Yan.

Previously, Wang Yan and the others earned only a few thousand yuan—just that the company covered all expenses. But Lin Bai was different; he had a house, a car, and a wife who did virtually nothing but enjoy life. Though Lin Bai had some savings, he couldn’t just live off them. He came for better growth, a better future—he couldn’t end up barely making ends meet.

So Wang Yan raised his salary: 20,000 yuan monthly, 240,000 yuan annually—a level of income that was high anywhere in the country, more than enough to live well, and company reimbursements remained unchanged. The five of them, counting salaries and expenses, had already taken nearly two million yuan in profits—more than enough. After all, Yan Chunqiu was still just a startup, albeit one growing fast.

“It’s not just you getting a raise—everyone’s at 12,000. Really, the four of us are two couples, while you’re alone.” Zheng Qiudong laughed.

Wang Yan smiled and nodded: “That’s true. Lin Bai, your wife’s also capable—if she gets bored at home, come work here too. Playing outside or playing at the company—it’s all the same.”

“No thanks. She lacks persistence—she’ll do something fun for a few days, then get bored and switch to something else. Later, she’ll find the old thing fun again.”

Lin Bai shook his head with a wry smile. “Enough about me. Brother Wang, I’ve signed the contract and joined the company—tell me our next steps. I need clear goals.”

Wang Yan set down his teacup, crossed his legs, and leaned against one arm of the sofa. He smiled: “There’s no real next step—just keep doing what we’re doing steadily. You’ve got clients and connections—keep going. Same for Qiudong: keep securing business, and help out in Nanning too—do exactly as before. The more you do, the better it gets.”

If I must name a next step, it’s our software. You know the initial plan: start with reviews. Restaurants, universities, companies, celebrities, public figures—even consumer products, flowers, grass, everything can be rated. This feature is expected to gain some recognition within six months, covering at least the major cities.

This business should grow quickly—after all, we’ve got celebrities. We’ll hype it, ride the trends, and user growth will be rapid. Once we have users, industries will gradually expand, and all sorts of bizarre ratings will appear. This adds great fun—people love it.

The cost? Just servers. When users reach tens of millions, expenses will rise, and we’ll need to subsidize it heavily. The new company will register under Yan Chunqiu, keeping our current equity structure—it’s simpler.

Of course, for tens of millions of users, the revenue from our current business won’t be enough to sustain us. So we’ll need to expand further—specifically, the part-time business I’m currently focusing on. We’ll operate a platform, just like now, taking a cut. This will reduce our staffing company’s income, but on the other hand, since we’re handling nationwide business, revenue will be far greater.

As for further development, it’s simply expanding into other services—ride-hailing, food delivery, group buying—all centered on local services. Don’t fear bloat—necessary functions must exist.”

“That’ll burn through cash—we can’t afford it.” Lin Bai shook his head vigorously.

“You’re thinking of bringing in capital, aren’t you? Capital is a catalyst—and a destroyer. Bringing in capital is what burns cash; without it, we can’t even burn money—we grow slowly. Last year, I told Qiudong: if you don’t want to get rich overnight, if you maintain service quality and truly stand with users, China is vast—there’s always a place for us. Capital isn’t that powerful.”

Wang Yan chuckled lightly, dismissive.

“That’s bold.”

Lin Bai raised his thumb and grinned: “From my years interacting with capital circles, it’s mixed. If we have no profit pressure, no need to keep losing money, then it’s better to run it ourselves—avoid a mountain of future headaches. Running it alone is tough—want me to help? Or should we hire a CEO?”

“If you’re interested, manage it once the product launches. If not, I can handle it myself—promote from within later. People we train ourselves? We can trust them completely.”

“Then I’ll start as a headhunter. When you’re overwhelmed and need me, I’ll come over.”

“Fine.” Wang Yan smiled and nodded, stood up, stretched lazily, and said, “Alright, let’s get to work, everyone—grow big, grow strong, create new glory.”

The five dispersed, each starting their work.

They often seemed idle on the surface, but that was just TV drama—too glamorous. At this small startup, even Lin Bai, a top-tier headhunter, was buried in work.

As he said, Zheng Qiudong and Lin Bai handled real headhunting; Luo Yiren and Xiong Qingchun managed company affairs. But the company had few real problems—only five people, after all. The two women mostly joined others in interviewing and screening candidates for mid- and low-level positions.

Wang Yan’s duties were varied: finance, headhunting, part-time business—he handled all three. But actual workload wasn’t heavy—everyone had subordinates. He only stepped in occasionally to deal with difficult people Zheng Qiudong or Lin Bai couldn’t handle—he was the final safeguard. If he couldn’t persuade them, the person truly didn’t want to change jobs.

Still, this was rare—Zheng Qiudong and Lin Bai were both capable and performed well. They also conducted training. A healthy company requires a solid training system—both internal and external—first to align with company values, second to enhance personnel skills.

Our company didn’t care about ideological alignment—Wang Yan didn’t care. He always paid by results; as long as someone had good character and worked properly, anything went. Their focus was on skill enhancement.

The company was growing rapidly, constantly hiring. Some were experienced hires bringing resources—they were dissatisfied with their old companies, lacked the courage to start their own, but saw our high commissions and rising reputation, making new business easier to secure.

Others were newcomers: cross-industry, low-experience peers, those with only basic knowledge, college interns—various types. For every experienced hire, they brought in two newcomers.

With large numbers and uneven quality, training was essential—so Yan Chunqiu established a training system.

Onboarding training was handled by Xiong Qingchun, Luo Yiren, and other experienced staff. They covered company policies, future plans, industry overviews, and basic work methods—all essential knowledge.

Further training was conducted by Zheng Qiudong, Lin Bai, and more senior, skilled individuals—career advancement training, sharing work experience and insights.

The next level was Wang Yan himself. His lessons were deeper, advanced courses—anyone who learned even a little benefited in life. He was also an excellent lecturer, being a professional. He also handled onboarding training for experienced hires joining later—partly to assert authority and ensure obedience, partly to further enhance their skills.

As for Nanning, he flew there occasionally to handle local affairs and resolve issues. Advanced training could also be done there—they had experienced staff who performed well.

Wang Yan’s main focus, of course, remained the part-time business—it was the next key for his internet product.

Currently, he was simultaneously expanding into Shanghai, Suzhou, Nanning, and Beijing. It sounded ambitious, but it was just two people sent to each location, registering branch offices. Finance still required staff from Hangzhou to travel and assist.

These people were transferred from Nanning and Hangzhou, already trained for a considerable time and capable of running business. Wang Yan wasn’t idle either—he continued mentoring new hires, just in other cities.

With insufficient manpower and part-time veterans uninterested, Wang Yan had to train them himself, traveling outside. But this wouldn’t last long—once these cities were established, more people would be trained, and growth would accelerate rapidly.

Thus, time passed, and another year began.

On a workday, at a district civil affairs bureau in Nanning, Wang Yan and Xiong Qingchun got out of the car.

Watching the bustling scene—some joyful, some expressionless, others arguing—Xiong Qingchun turned to Wang Yan: “You don’t regret this, do you?”

“What nonsense. I’m thrilled—I’ve finally won my beauty.”

“Before we go in, I need to confess something.”

“Go ahead.”

Xiong Qingchun said: “Actually… back in Hangzhou, I met my ex-boyfriend. His mother fell and no one could care for her. Knowing I was developing in Hangzhou, they wanted me to visit. Later, he worried and flew back from abroad—that’s when we met. But don’t worry—I promise nothing else happened.”

“Did he regret it? Now that he sees how far you’ve come, and his mother regrets it too?”

“Something like that… You’re not angry, right?”

“Am I that petty?” Wang Yan raised an eyebrow. “How bad would I be if you still thought about your ex? Your ex is truly awful—no other relatives? You had to go check on her? Don’t forget—he owed you twenty thousand yuan. That’s a lot.”

Wang Yan knew well—he’d seen the drama. Though he didn’t know exactly when, he sensed something off—they slept in the same bed every night. In the original plot, she broke up with Zheng Qiudong around this time.

Wang Yan had checked Xiong Qingchun’s pulse—she was healthy, not terminally ill. Probably because of Luo Yiren—she felt she couldn’t hold Zheng Qiudong’s heart, and marriage wouldn’t be happy, so better to let go. Then her ex returned, and the old connection rekindled.

“You won’t believe it—I actually told him. You should’ve seen his expression—it was priceless.”

“I can imagine. Enough about your ex—it’s bad luck talking about him now. We’re at the civil affairs bureau. Let’s go.”

Wang Yan stepped forward first. Xiong Qingchun smiled, hurried after him, and linked arms with him, swinging happily…