Chapter 132: Lei Jiaozhu: You

After chatting for a while, Chen Yansen stood up to take his leave.

He was a pragmatic man; since Old Ma had no money, he’d go find a wealthy big shot.

Just as he turned to leave, Liu Qiangdong grabbed him to join for drinks.

Chen Yansen thought for a moment and didn’t refuse.

Pretty Boy Dong was clearly still pissed from Old Ma’s earlier remarks; every time the topic of A Li came up, he started sneering.

Chen Yansen got along well with Brother Dong; despite his messy personal life, they were both equally shady—Chen Yansen wasn’t any better himself.

They were perfectly matched, chatting first about business, then women, and finally exchanged a knowing laugh, agreeing to meet again after the conference.

“Tonight I’ll introduce you to Zhang Lei from Gao Ling Capital.”

Pretty Boy Dong patted his chest in assurance.

Chen Yansen nodded, stood up, and went to find Gao Weilin and Song Yuncheng; the three of them walked over to Xiao Mi’s table and greeted Lei Jiaozhu.

“You’re going to make phones?” Lei Yijun asked Chen Yansen with a strange expression.

The last time Chen Yansen visited Xiao Mi’s R&D center, Lei Yijun hadn’t paid much attention, but later he learned headhunters were poaching Xiao Mi’s engineers—he couldn’t sit still anymore.

After some digging, he uncovered the behind-the-scenes client company, then spotted Chen Yansen’s familiar name in the equity network.

Only then did he finally understand!

This kid had used his visit as an excuse to sneak around and steal Xiao Mi’s secrets.

Back then, Lei Yijun had assumed Chen Yansen was just a liberal arts student studying journalism, working in e-commerce retail, so he hadn’t been wary.

But what Li Wanqiang had told him were mostly industry basics; only a few electronic component pricing details were slightly sensitive.

Yet every company’s procurement volume differed, so prices varied.

Chen Yansen could easily find out this information by hiring a supply chain procurement director—it wasn’t corporate secrets.

Lei Yijun was annoyed, but didn’t break ties with Chen Yansen.

“Uh, sort of. From now on, I’ll be in the same industry as Brother Lei.”

Chen Yansen hadn’t wanted to admit it, but seeing the other man’s confident gaze, he smiled and replied.

“Looks like competition in the smartphone industry is going to get fiercer.”

Lei Yijun laughed heartily, acting unconcerned.

From what he knew, Apple, Huawei, Samsung, LG, and OPPO all had new phone launch plans for the second half of the year; one more Chen Yansen didn’t matter.

He was confident Xiao Mi was different from these companies—he planned to abandon hardware profits and focus entirely on software revenue.

Since Xiao Mi’s founding, he’d been working on supply chain integration, even visiting some suppliers personally—he didn’t believe this kid could truly understand the phone business.

Young people don’t learn pain until they fall flat on their faces!

“Brother Lei, I don’t really understand supply chains—you’re the veteran, care to explain?”

Now that he’d been caught, Chen Yansen stopped hiding and pulled Lei Yijun aside to humbly seek advice.

Later, some said Lei Jiaozhu’s success was all due to marketing, but Chen Yansen was a businessman—he didn’t believe that nonsense.

Xiao Mi’s success was clearly built on the art of extreme supply chain management.

No way, bro—you actually dare to ask that?

Lei Yijun glanced at Lin Bing, then at Li Wanqiang—was this kid pretending to be clueless? They were competitors; you come to me asking about supply chain management?

That’s ridiculous!

“Actually, the core component supply chains are mostly controlled by industry leaders. My approach is to take my team and visit each supplier one by one…”

Lei Yijun paused, looked at Chen Yansen, and finally explained his management philosophy.

Chen Yansen wasn’t afraid of being fooled; with his current skills, he could easily detect lies from subtle emotional shifts.

They talked until the lunch ended; Chen Yansen felt he’d gathered enough, then stood up to thank him.

“Brother Lei, you actually told him all that?” Li Wanqiang asked, puzzled.

“These are just methodologies. The same task executed by different people leads to two different outcomes. This kid keeps calling me ‘Brother Lei’ and ‘senior’—could I really lie to him?”

Lei Yijun spread his hands helplessly.

Too bad the movie “Let’s Shoot the Bullet,” worthy of UNESCO heritage, hadn’t been released yet—if it had, Jun’er would’ve shouted: “This isn’t bullying the honest guy!”

Exactly!

Chen Yansen loved bullying honest people; honesty meant easy to deal with—so he’d bully them harder.

It’s like the guy who prides himself on enduring hardship—once you’re willing to suffer, you’ll never run out of suffering.

After a short break, the afternoon session began.

“Boss Chen, the SoftBank investment manager is interested in FoxTao, but they want FoxTao merged into A Li, using a mix of equity and cash payment…”

Gao Weilin, sitting beside him, whispered.

“I only accept cash payment,” Chen Yansen waved him off.

“Then only Tiger Fund remains, but they don’t want full acquisition—only about 10% equity, saying they have more confidence in your operational ability.”

Gao Weilin paused, then mentioned another venture capital firm.

“I heard Rakuten lost the Ebates funding battle to Augusta. In terms of growth potential, we’re no worse than Ebates—maybe even stronger. Find the right moment to leak this to Rakuten.”

Chen Yansen said thoughtfully.

“Sell to the Japanese?” Gao Weilin blinked.

“Rakuten has invested heavily in the internet these past two years; last year they partnered with Baidu to launch Rakuten Cloud, an e-commerce platform—they’re clearly interested in China’s e-commerce market.”

Chen Yansen spoke calmly.

He knew that, based on FoxTao’s growth trend, it would peak in 2012–2013, then plummet sharply in 2014.

Maybe due to pressure from A Li and JD, or maybe due to worsening industry conditions.

He could suppress Mopai, Meilishuo, and What’s Worth Buying, but he could only maintain an advantage for a year or two at most.

This guide industry, lacking any technological barrier, would eventually be shredded.

Chen Yansen didn’t want to cling to a dead-end product while watching its valuation slowly collapse.

Later, the best-performing listed guide platforms—What’s Worth Buying—had a market cap of only 6 billion yuan, less than his Feiyu Tech; another was even worse, barely 2 billion.

So selling FoxTao was the best choice.

If he remembered right, Rakuten spent $1 billion to acquire Ebates in 2014—on paper, they lost $700 million to $800 million on that deal.

These Americans had screwed the Japanese black and blue.

Chen Yansen’s logic was simple: Ebates’ monthly sales were only $500 million—less than half of FoxTao’s.

Rather than let the Americans swindle Rakuten $1 billion two years from now, he’d do the swindling himself.

FoxTao’s business model and profitability were far superior to Ebates’—asking for $2 or $3 billion wasn’t unreasonable, was it?

Of course, first the Japanese had to bite.

“I’ll give it a try,” Gao Weilin said without hesitation—he had the connections.

During the afternoon conference, Chen Yansen didn’t pay attention—he spent the whole time watching movies to kill time.

At dinner, he took Song Yuncheng around to chat with every group buying boss.

These guys had all spent heavily advertising on FoxTao.

Song Yuncheng had dealt with many group buying channel managers, but this was her first time meeting the bosses themselves.

They discussed the output of April–May campaigns and the second-half group buying schedule.

Several bosses who’d just secured funding didn’t hold back on pricing.

The WoWoTuan boss casually dropped the number “40 million,” leaving everyone stunned—internally cursing the bastard for being insane.

He’d just raised $200 million from Dinghui and Tianyou Capital, and already he was spending like this?

Chen Yansen smiled and praised: “Boss Wang has vision.”

Then he turned and muttered “Idiot,” telling Gao Weilin: “Next time you meet a founder like this, run as far as you can.”

“Yes, Boss,” Gao Weilin quickly replied.

He just thought mainland bosses were too extravagant—two online sales events and they’d spend 40 million?

Right after finishing the deal, Liu Qiangdong came over, pulled him aside to meet Zhang Lei from Gao Ling , and they got in a car headed straight for the largest private club nearby.

Gao Weilin followed automatically; Chen Yansen told Song Yuncheng to return to the hotel first.

The rest of the evening wasn’t suitable for her.

As expected, as soon as they entered the private room, they saw two girls in sheer ancient-style dresses, barefoot dancing on a small stage.

Their figures were graceful—clearly professionals.

Besides Zhang Lei from Gao Ling and Liu Qiangdong, the room also held the general manager of Blue Moon’s online business.

The four didn’t drink alcohol; instead, they gathered to discuss collaboration.

Blue Moon’s distributors had partnered with FoxTao twice; the second time, the brand caught on and triggered price-control rules, issuing a warning.

The distributor had no choice but to pay FoxTao compensation, and the brand’s group-buying campaign was pulled abruptly, damaging user experience.

Chen Yansen found it too troublesome, so he instructed his team to only partner with brands like Tide, Ariel, and Liby, removing Blue Moon from the list.

In the following months, these three brands alternated between FoxTao and JuHuaSuan, crushing Blue Moon’s online sales.

Now, thanks to Pretty Boy Dong and Zhang Lei’s connections, Blue Moon had come knocking themselves, proposing a dedicated campaign worth 10 million.

Chen Yansen smiled, raised his tea cup as if it were wine, and clinked it with theirs.

He wasn’t the type to sacrifice profit just to vent anger—besides, there wasn’t even a minor friction with Blue Moon.

Liu Qiangdong was the same—he directly proposed a 30 million ad budget, aiming to deliver a jaw-dropping performance for 618 to satisfy investors.

After all, JD was asset-heavy—tens of thousands of delivery staff alone, plus mandatory social insurance and housing fund payments—profit was nowhere in sight; they could only use sales figures to appease investors.

Chen Yansen naturally agreed to all, smiling and promising to prioritize JD for traffic resources.

Liu Qiangdong nodded in satisfaction, thinking this younger brother from Hui’an was a good guy, loyal and righteous.

Ignoring Zhang Lei’s attempts to stop him, he forcibly opened a bottle of Maotai, and the group resumed drinking.

As for boosting traffic to Jingdong, it was just drunken talk from before—nothing to take seriously.

Whatever money Qingzai Dong gave, Chen Yansen would do exactly that much.

He knew full well that once Liu Qiangdong made Jingdong big, he’d surely turn around and stab him in the back.

After three rounds of drinks, everyone dispersed.

Chen Yansen and Gao Weilin were driven back to the hotel by Liu Qiangdong’s driver.

Immediately after, the two returned to their respective rooms.

Gao Weilin first called his old classmate working at LeTian Investment; after finishing the call, he intended to report to Chen Yansen, but knocked on his door for a long time with no response.

He stood in the hotel corridor, glancing at Song Yuncheng’s room, lost in thought, then finally turned and returned to his own room.

(End of Chapter)