Chapter 110: Riding Xiao Mi Across the River!

FoxTao’s valuation is one thing, but the 560 million in funding has specific uses—it’s company money, not his personal cash.

Unless he sells FoxTao!

“Are you going back to Xucheng this afternoon? I’ll book the tickets.” Song Yuncheng nudged him when she saw him staring, asking softly.

“Wait a couple days—I’ll stay in Yancheng for a couple days first.” Chen Yansen snapped out of it and shook his head.

“But I still have over a dozen B2C platforms waiting to join, and a pile of integration procedures ahead.”

Song Yuncheng quickly explained—she wanted to go back and earn money.

“Just have tech handle it, forward the contracts to Legal for review—they’re all standard templates, no room for errors.”

Chen Yansen took her hand and began gently squeezing it.

That familiar motion made Song Yuncheng’s face flush instantly; last night’s scenes involuntarily surfaced in her mind.

“Master, skip the hotel—let’s go to Wangfujing.”

Chen Yansen told the driver.

“Got it, no problem!” The driver grinned, glanced in the rearview mirror, knew these two weren’t short on cash, and parked right at the mall entrance.

“Why are we here?” Song Yuncheng stepped out, looked around curiously.

“To buy you work uniforms.”

Chen Yansen wrapped an arm around her shoulders and smiled lightly.

The white blazer she wore had been through Penguin HQ, the Series A funding gala, and Xiaomi HQ—not because it was bad, but because Chen Yansen was tired of seeing it.

“Oh.” Song Yuncheng hummed, obediently followed.

She knew Chen Yansen was domineering—he never gave anyone room to refuse. She thought: I’ll pay for it myself.

Song Yuncheng wasn’t poor.

After earning money, she felt more confident.

Chen Yansen pulled her into the elevator and went straight to the fourth floor, where women’s wear was located. After a casual glance, he walked into a mid-to-high-end women’s boutique.

A shirt here cost 800–1500 yuan, a dress 1500–3000 yuan—Song Yuncheng winced inwardly; any single item equaled her monthly part-time income before.

Even though she could afford it now, seeing the prices still hurt.

She wanted to buy a set of business-appropriate clothes—dark colors, cheap price, ideally under 3000 yuan.

“Get me one set in black, one in beige, size M, and also take that dress…”

Chen Yansen instructed the salesgirl.

He had little patience for shopping with women—pointed to a few well-designed pieces and told her to fetch new stock.

“Too many—I can’t wear all this!” Song Yuncheng grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Back at the hotel, you can wear them one by one and show me.”

Chen Yansen leaned close to her ear, voice suggestive.

Song Yuncheng’s ears turned red; she stepped back, lips parting but no words coming out.

Drawing on his past experience evaluating female streamers, plus his 4.11 physique and 3.49 mental stats, Chen Yansen had picked outfits that fit her perfectly.

Among them were playful, vibrant casual outfits and formal ensembles suitable for professional settings.

“Sir, the total is 43,700 yuan. We’ve applied a 5% discount for you. Here’s your VIP card—valid for 5% off at all 126 of our stores nationwide.”

The salesgirl folded the clothes neatly into bags and warmly handed over the card.

Chen Yansen took the card, tossed it casually into the bag, then reached for his wallet.

“I’ll pay myself,” Song Yuncheng said, forcing the words out.

“Fine,” Chen Yansen said, hands in pockets, not pressing.

As her boss, he knew her income well—she had at least a hundred thousand in her account.

Song Yuncheng froze—she hadn’t expected Chen Yansen to actually let her pay.

Bastard!

You said you were buying me work uniforms!

Song Yuncheng reluctantly handed over her bank card; her balance dropped sharply, her heart ached so badly she nearly gasped—worse than last night.

Carrying the bags, Song Yuncheng trudged out of the store, miserable.

“You spent forty thousand—surely you won’t mind treating me to a Cantonese innovation dish costing a thousand yuan per person?”

Chen Yansen pointed to a restaurant upstairs; just by its sign and entrance decor, it was clearly high-end.

“Not at all! Not even a little!” Song Yuncheng nearly cried.

“Director Song, that’s quite generous.”

Chen Yansen smiled faintly and gave a thumbs-up.

As for the clothes—they were all in Song Yuncheng’s hands. Chen Yansen had no habit of carrying bags for others.

“Boss, I want to go back and earn money,” Song Yuncheng tugged his sleeve, serious.

With her savings slashed, her desire to earn money had never been stronger.

“What’s the point of earning if you never spend? I asked about your brother’s condition—it’s been too long. All we can do now is behavioral intervention to prevent further deterioration.”

Chen Yansen stopped walking and spoke slowly.

“I know, that’s why I want to save more—to hire someone to care for him later. I don’t plan to marry either; no one would want someone like me.”

Song Yuncheng forced a faint smile and spoke quietly.

She never expected anyone to pull her out of the mud. Chen Yansen gave her a job and taught her negotiation and market expansion—she was already grateful.

As for being with Chen Yansen—she’d thought about it, but knew it was utterly unrealistic.

“People must rely on themselves,” Chen Yansen mused.

He wouldn’t say stupid things like “I’ll take care of you and your brother”—he knew his own nature; his interest in women lasted at most a year or two.

Whether with Meng Jie or Song Yuncheng, his attitude was the same: just date, no need to get serious.

What in this world was even worth giving your heart to?

Song Yuncheng thought Chen Yansen was reminding her to work hard and earn more—she nodded firmly, adjusted her mood, and kept walking upstairs.

Lunch cost over two thousand more.

Song Yuncheng couldn’t smile—but strangely, the old pressure in her chest was gone.

It felt as if the heavy stone on her heart had vanished after spending those tens of thousands.

For the next three days, Chen Yansen took her to visit several landmarks in Yancheng—the CBD, the 798 Art District.

Back at the hotel each night, no one huddled on the sofa anymore.

For three straight days, Chen Yansen felt no fatigue—he couldn’t help but marvel: Youth is fucking great!

Only when Wang Zihao called to urge him—telling him the telecom partnership’s exclusive phone sale was about to launch—did Chen Yansen finally tell Song Yuncheng to book tickets for the return trip.

On the way, Wang Zihao explained: after Zhao Maolin relayed FoxTao’s refusal to cooperate to the online mall contact, the other side panicked—the commission rate jumped from 30% to 45%.

According to SuperReturn’s commission rules, the final price was 120–180 yuan cheaper than market price.

Even if the listed price was inflated, it didn’t hurt user experience.

After a quick discussion among several categories, they agreed to cooperate and sent the email to Chen Yansen’s inbox—but he hadn’t replied in two days.

“Fine, I’ve seen the pricing—have the promotions team create a secondary landing page and start preheating.”

Chen Yansen sat on the train and sent Wang Zihao a message.

For a shopping guide website, access to comprehensive product categories across all sectors is critical—it enhances product prestige, increases average order value, and attracts more premium brands to join.

If the site only sold cheap white-label goods, even if big brands came knocking, users would suspect fakes.

It’s like selling cosmetics in a vegetable market—who’d trust it?

Digital 3C and major appliances have extremely high user value—he’d even pay out of pocket and invest resources to cultivate even 10%, or 5%, of internal users.

They returned to Xucheng Academy by four-thirty in the afternoon.

Chen Yansen rested his hand on the steering wheel and asked Song Yuncheng: “Drop you off at your dorm first, or come to mine?”

“I’ll go back to my dorm,” Song Yuncheng answered quickly—these past days, Chen Yansen had taken every advantage of her; if she went to Room 0418 with him, he’d probably do something reckless again.

“Alright, dinner together tonight?” Chen Yansen asked again.

“You should go spend time with your other girlfriend first,” Song Yuncheng opened the door, stepped out, waved goodbye with her suitcase.

“Hey! If you say that, you’re admitting you’re one of my girlfriends, right?” Chen Yansen leaned out the window, teasing.

“Go die, jerk!” Song Yuncheng grabbed a mineral water bottle and hurled it at him without hesitation.

Chen Yansen’s reflexes, though not fast enough to catch bullets, could easily handle a badminton smash at 300 km/h.

He caught the bottle neatly and drove toward the faculty apartment complex.

Song Yuncheng turned, glanced at him from afar, and suddenly smiled—light and easy, she strolled toward her dorm.

Chen Yansen got out of the car, stood under the building, and called Xu Dan, listing a pile of hiring requirements in one breath.

“Sen-ge, we’re a shopping guide e-commerce company—why do we need to hire a systems architect and Android developers?” Xu Dan asked, puzzled.

“We’re developing an app—FoxTao’s moving toward mobile,” Chen Yansen lied.

In truth, he was hiring them to improve UI design, optimize functions, and enhance user experience on top of Android—to build a superior operating system.

Whether it’s a skin-deep change doesn’t matter—what counts is usability!

Xu Dan didn’t press further, hung up, and had recruiters draft job descriptions and post them on major job platforms.

With insufficient funds and no intention to sell equity or the company, Chen Yansen could only borrow chickens to lay eggs—build the system first.

But choosing a procurement director and tech director left him stumped—he’d never worked in the phone industry in his past life, only heard names like Yu Dazui and Lei Bus.

Even if he offered cash or equity, he couldn’t lure them!

‘Forget it—I’ll just take it one step at a time.’

Chen Yansen shook his head, suppressing these thoughts; as for the Leiyi Army, he could only say sorry.

How could the number of positions offered by guide e-commerce possibly compare to that of the mobile phone manufacturing industry?

Moreover, he planned to skip the contract manufacturer entirely and do everything himself!

Just the R&D team alone could reach two hundred people—first hire system development engineers, then, once resources allowed, hire hardware and industrial design engineers.

Xiaomi feels its way across the river; I’ll ride on Xiaomi to cross it!

(End of chapter)