Chapter 127: Zhongsha Industrial Park: The Starting Point of the Orange

Wang Zihao drove a Mercedes, circling the Saige Technology Park twice while Zuo Hongyu led the way ahead.

Chen Yansen wasn’t satisfied with any of the three factories he inspected.

First, the area was too small—the smallest was 800 square meters, the largest barely over 2,000; second, the factories were cluttered with outdated production lines, and if they rented, they’d have to buy these useless machines, as if the landlords were trying to swindle them.

Chen Yansen sighed and signaled everyone to get back in the car.

“Boss Chen, Saige Technology Park borders Huaqiangbei. This area used to be full of counterfeit phone factories—over a thousand at its peak—so the factory spaces are fragmented. My idea is to rent several and connect them into one.”

Zuo Hongyu stood outside the car, explaining slowly and offering a solution.

There was no choice—the larger factories in the park were already taken, and their owners produced legitimate smart phones, outside the scope of the Double Strike campaign.

The factories Zuo Hongyu contacted were all abandoned after their owners fled following the Double Strike.

Last year, rent was 1.5 yuan per square meter per day; now it’s dropped to 1.1 yuan, and some are even below 1 yuan, yet very few bosses come to negotiate deals.

When the factory owners saw the group preparing to leave, they quickly lowered prices, offering rent discounts and cheap sales of the equipment.

But Chen Yansen found the area too small and walked away without looking back.

“Let’s look elsewhere. Saige’s location is good, but the factories are too scattered. I already said we need at least 10,000 square meters of floor area.”

Chen Yansen waved his hand, cutting off Zuo Hongyu’s attempt to explain further.

He understood Zuo Hongyu’s thinking—he wanted to lease a dozen small factories under one contract—but each factory had different owners, making rent prices, lease terms, and payment cycles nearly impossible to align.

“Boss Chen, then we can only go to Zhongsha Village. Rent there is at least 50% cheaper than Saige, but the location and transportation are worse.”

Zuo Hongyu nodded and proposed an alternative.

“How far is it from here?” Chen Yansen asked.

“About nine kilometers—fifteen minutes by car,” Zuo Hongyu replied immediately.

“Let’s go see it.”

Chen Yansen didn’t hesitate, instructing Zuo Hongyu.

At this moment, Chen Yansen began to agree with Cao Dahua’s assessment of Zuo Hongyu: honest, quiet, reliable, and methodical.

When Chen Yansen expressed dissatisfaction with Saige’s factories, Zuo Hongyu immediately presented a new plan—he’d clearly prepared in advance.

This morning, to dissuade his old friend from suicide, Zuo Hongyu risked offending his new boss by arriving half an hour late and bringing Zhou Jinling along without permission.

Though he had the face of a villain, in this money-driven era, he still cared about loyalty and righteousness. He might not make a good boss, but he’d be an excellent employee.

Soon after, the two cars sped along Binjiang Avenue, passing Shenzhen Convention and Exhibition Center and Tian’an Digital City, finally arriving at Zhongsha Village Industrial Park.

As Zuo Hongyu had said, the surroundings were desolate; they saw only one truck pass by in half an hour.

Locals in baggy shorts and flip-flops rode electric scooters past them, fishing rods in hand.

Chen Yansen got out of the car, surveyed the surroundings, assessed transportation and infrastructure—inferior to Saige, but superior in quiet, peaceful surroundings.

Not far away, a large cluster of factories stood connected, not fragmented like Saige’s cubicle-like units.

Zuo Hongyu pulled out his phone and made a call.

Soon, a man in his forties wearing a collared polo shirt arrived on an electric scooter.

“Boss Zuo, is Dabolu going to expand production again?”

The man stopped his scooter, looking puzzled, unable to resist asking.

“Boss Huang, I resigned from Dabolu last week. Let me introduce you—this is my new boss, Chen Yansen.”

Zuo Hongyu led Huang Qiming to Chen Yansen and smiled.

“Wow! Boss Chen, you’re a good-looking fella. Let’s go check out the factory first.”

Huang Qiming sized up Chen Yansen, complimented him, then pointed ahead and got straight to the point.

“Nice to meet you, Boss Huang.”

Chen Yansen replied and followed Huang Qiming toward the industrial park.

Cao Dahua, Wang Zihao, and Song Yuncheng followed behind, scanning the surroundings.

“This area is A3, covering 3,400 square meters. Most buildings are three stories, plus a six-story dormitory—total floor area 11,000 square meters. With equipment in place, you can produce five million counterfeit phones a year!”

Huang Qiming pointed to his own factory and boasted grandly.

“Boss Huang, producing counterfeit phones in Shenzhen now is a dead end,” Zuo Hongyu said dryly.

“Haha, then let’s make branded phones!” Huang Qiming laughed awkwardly, trying to brush it off.

He had no choice—after the Double Strike, 80% of the phone factories in Huaqiangbei shut down.

Even Saige’s factories couldn’t be rented out, let alone Zhongsha’s remote industrial park.

With rent at 6,000 to 8,000 yuan per day for such a large facility, sitting empty meant losing money every day.

Desperate, Huang Qiming was just making empty claims.

To seal the deal, he spent half a day showing them around A3, detailing everything—the power room, air compressor room, refrigeration station, and more.

Chen Yansen said nothing, leaving all negotiations to Zuo Hongyu and Cao Dahua.

Huang Qiming’s factory was indeed well-equipped—complete with dormitories, parking, waste stations, and a sensible layout, clearly designed by professionals.

Zuo Hongyu glanced at Chen Yansen, saw his boss give a slight nod, understood, and began negotiating rent, lease term, and payment cycles with Huang Qiming.

“0.65 yuan per square meter per day, settled every three months, minimum two-year lease, contract renewed every two years.”

Seeing Zuo Hongyu’s interest, Huang Qiming quickly quoted his price.

“Boss Huang, you might fool amateurs, but we’ve been in Shenzhen for over a decade—we know prices well. If you think Boss Chen is an outsider you can cheat, we’ll just go elsewhere.”

Zuo Hongyu shook his head, his expression darkening with displeasure.

“Rent settled annually, contract signed for eight years—but the price needs to drop further. How about 0.5 yuan?”

Cao Dahua, belly protruding, smiled pleasantly.

Watching them haggle, Chen Yansen lost interest and left Wang Zihao to observe while he and Song Yuncheng wandered the park.

“You sold 5% of FoxTao’s equity just to make phones?”

Song Yuncheng asked softly.

“That’s part of the reason,” Chen Yansen replied, gazing at the setting sunset.

“Online, everyone says you’re planning to sell FoxTao as a package,” Song Yuncheng hesitated, then asked again.

“Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”

Chen Yansen turned, teasing with a smile.

Song Yuncheng, Zhang Wenbo, Xiang Pengfei, and others each held 100,000 stock options—valued at over three million yuan based on the 16-billion-yuan valuation.

At the time, housing prices in Yanhu, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen ranged from 10,000 to 20,000 yuan per square meter; even remote suburbs were around 8,000 yuan. If Chen Yansen sold the company, they’d all become rich overnight.

“We all want to make FoxTao stronger and bigger.”

Song Yuncheng shook his head seriously—this sentiment echoed among many at FoxTao.

Though Chen Yansen still held nearly 70% of equity after selling 5%, most startup founders don’t dilute equity during a company’s growth phase.

Chen Yansen’s move clearly signaled to outsiders: he wants to cash out early.

“Don’t worry—I don’t plan to sell FoxTao.”

Chen Yansen smiled, silently adding in his mind: not yet.

FoxTao’s performance wasn’t stable enough. Augusta Capital’s 16-billion-yuan valuation was inflated—finding a domestic buyer would be difficult.

If Aili could go public next year, Ma Liyun might be interested—but right now, Yahoo had detected Aili’s transfer of ownership of Zhifu Bao.

The two companies were publicly feuding, and Ma would need at least five billion U.S. dollars to resolve the issue and repurchase Yahoo’s shares.

He had no capacity to take over!

So when Chen Yansen said he wouldn’t sell, it simply meant no suitable buyer had appeared yet.

Hearing Chen Yansen’s words, Song Yuncheng felt reassured but whispered a reminder: “Many on the team are gossiping. I think you should hold an all-hands meeting to explain.”

“Alright, have Xu Dan arrange it.”

Chen Yansen raised his hand and ruffled Song Yuncheng’s hair.

“Boss Chen…” Wang Zihao walked over after the price negotiation, about to call out—then saw Chen Yansen touching Song Yuncheng’s head and fell silent.

Hearing the movement behind him, Chen Yansen patted Song Yuncheng’s shoulder and walked back casually, as if nothing happened.

Wang Zihao opened his mouth, hesitated, then said nothing.

Back in the office, Zuo Hongyu and Cao Dahua were waiting.

Chen Yansen picked up the draft contract: lease term five years, rent renegotiated every three years, settled every six months, at 0.5 yuan per square meter per day.

It was 20% lower than Huang Qiming’s original quote—and half the rent of Saige Technology Park.

Chen Yansen did a quick calculation: nearly two million yuan in annual rent.

Looking at Huang Qiming’s attire, he clearly didn’t look like a billionaire.

Chen Yansen nodded and handed the follow-up to Zuo Hongyu.

Cao Dahua decided to stay in Shenzhen to help source equipment and assemble the production line—testing instruments, injection molding machines, and CNC lathes were all available in Huaqiangbei.

But for SMT pick-and-place machines, they felt buying new was wasteful; luckily, a major electronics auction was happening in Shenzhen this month, offering a chance to acquire a batch at low prices.

Chen Yansen wouldn’t let Cao Dahua help for free—he gave him a separate salary.

In Chen Yansen’s eyes, though Cao Dahua had failed in business, he was still capable of running errands and sourcing equipment.

Of course, according to Cao Dahua himself, he was merely mentoring university students’ startups—his real job was still as a university professor, so earning two salaries was perfectly fine.

Four came, three returned.

(End of Chapter)