Chapter 136: Patent Licensing and New Semester Arrangements (Requesting Monthly Votes)

“Chen Zong, I’m truly sorry—I was on a business trip in Pengcheng and thought it was close to Xucheng, so I didn’t call ahead and just showed up unannounced.”

Li Wanqiang caught sight of Chen Yansen out of the corner of his eye, quickly apologized to Song Yuncheng, then turned and smiled as he walked over.

“Chen Zong, don’t do that next time—call ahead so I can meet you at the gate. Otherwise, I’ll get mad.”

Chen Yansen gripped Li Wanqiang’s hand and feigned a stern expression as he teased.

As for the excuse about being on a business trip, he didn’t believe it for a second.

With less than two months left until the Xiaomi phone’s release, even as head of marketing, Li Wanqiang should have been in Yancheng right now.

“Chen Zong, you’re too kind,” Li Wanqiang replied verbally, but his eyes darted nervously, as if waiting for the right moment.

Let's go upstairs to chat—this is FoxTao's office area; the conditions are a bit basic.

Chen Yansen led Li Wanqiang upstairs and instructed Song Yuncheng: “Tell Xu Xingxing to go to Lao Cao’s office, first shelf on the left cabinet, grab a can of tea, and brew two cups.”

Song Yuncheng nodded and passed the message to Xu Xingxing.

Is this all of FoxTao's staff? Li Wanqiang glanced around the second floor and asked in surprise.

“Yeah, about 90%… no, actually 60% are Xucheng University students; the rest are hired staff.”

Chen Yansen smiled.

People like Zhang Wenbo and Hu Li had already graduated, so they could no longer be counted as students.

They’d all moved out of the dorms—some rented rooms in faculty apartments, others rented houses in the village across from Xucheng University.

Seamless integration of study and work!

Many in the project team joked that by graduation, especially those in customer service and editing, everyone had two or three years of work experience.

“Impressive! I should’ve brought Lei Zong along to tour.”

Li Wanqiang looked around, then followed Chen Yansen into the conference room and sat down.

“You didn’t come all this way just to say that, did you?”

Chen Yansen smiled at Li Wanqiang, his gaze teasing.

With his current observational skills, not a single micro-expression or subtle movement on Li Wanqiang’s face escaped him.

“I knew I couldn’t fool Chen Zong,” Li Wanqiang said after a long pause, relieved now that he’d been caught. “Xiaomi wants to license the generational garbage collection algorithm from AuroraOS.”

“No problem.”

Chen Yansen agreed without hesitation.

To him, the generational garbage collection algorithm wasn’t anything special—just an optimization idea he’d come up with in three hours.

“Chen Zong, the price is negotiable—you can’t refuse without even hearing our offer!”

Li Wanqiang, startled by how quickly he agreed, assumed it was a refusal and chuckled bitterly.

“Li Zong, I meant I’ll license the algorithm patent to Xiaomi for use.”

Chen Yansen raised his voice and emphasized again.

Li Wanqiang couldn’t believe it—Chen Yansen had just agreed?

Then what was all the negotiation strategy and carefully rehearsed phrasing he’d prepared before leaving?

Regaining his composure, Li Wanqiang cautiously asked: “Chen Zong, what about the price?”

Internally, he wondered: Is Chen Yansen going to name an outrageous price to scare me off?

“Before you came, Lei Zong must have briefed you—I’d like to hear Xiaomi’s offer first.”

Chen Yansen leaned back, arms crossed, speaking softly.

In negotiations, he preferred to see the opponent’s hand before making a move.

“Lei Zong proposed two options: one, a one-time licensing fee of ten million yuan for three years; two, five yuan per Xiaomi phone sold as a patent royalty.”

Li Wanqiang had intended to present Option A first, to test Chen Yansen’s bottom line.

But the moment his eyes met Chen Yansen’s, he felt exposed, his mind went blank, and he blurted out the full offer.

“Go with the sales-based fee.”

Chen Yansen rejected the first cooperation model.

Lei Yijun’s choice to pursue patent licensing indicated that over the past twenty days, Xiaomi’s R&D center had failed to reverse-engineer AuroraOS’s memory cleanup algorithm.

They also believed it would be difficult to surpass OrangeTech in algorithmic innovation within three years—hence the two negotiation options given to Li Wanqiang.

Li Wanqiang hadn’t expected Chen Yansen to be so straightforward—both in agreeing instantly and in refusing to haggle.

This deal became the easiest of his career.

In that instant, he thought he might not have needed to come at all—this could’ve been settled over the phone.

After signing the contract, Chen Yansen called Wang Zihao and drove into the city to entertain Li Wanqiang at the Sky Garden.

After all, Li Wanqiang represented Lei Yijun, and during his last visit to Yancheng, Lei Buss had gone out of his way to host him.

After a full meal, Chen Yansen planned another outing—to Galaxy Star—but Li Wanqiang kept declining, saying he had to catch a night flight.

“Does your wife keep a tight leash?”

Chen Yansen teased with a smile.

“You know damn well,” Li Wanqiang pointed a finger at Chen Yansen, helpless but smiling.

“Don’t worry—I won’t tell your wife.”

Chen Yansen spoke with perfect seriousness.

Li Wanqiang laughed and groaned, then left with his assistant that very night for Guanyin Airport in Pengcheng.

The next morning, he reported his results directly to Lei Yijun’s office.

“This kid agreed so easily?” Lei Yijun frowned, skeptical.

Honestly, if he were in Chen Yansen’s place, even if Chen had asked for ten or fifteen yuan per phone, he still wouldn’t have granted the license.

After all, the current custom ROM craze was entirely due to AuroraOS—MIUI had never drawn this kind of attention when it first launched.

“Besides Chen Zong’s generous nature, there might be another reason—last time at the Internet Open Conference, you generously shared your supply chain management experience with him, so he’s returning the favor.”

Li Wanqiang speculated.

“This kid’s interesting—he actually has some sense of loyalty,” Lei Yijun smiled faintly, warmth spreading in his chest.

He recalled how, when Chen Yansen had once asked him for advice, he’d held back a little—now he felt a pang of guilt. He thought: Lei Yijun, you’re getting old—how can you be less straightforward than a young man?

Unfortunately, Lei the Pope’s guilt lasted only three days.

Three days later, Meizu released a new Android-based customized OS with cache and fragmented garbage cleanup performance nearly identical to AuroraOS.

Even if Lei Yijun had been slow-witted, he now understood.

The patent license he’d thought would be so hard to secure? Chen Yansen hadn’t taken it seriously at all—anyone who paid could get it.

Meizu wouldn’t promote a competitor’s tech—they planned to embed the algorithm into their upcoming FlymeOS and launch it alongside their autumn product release.

Lei Yijun no longer waited—he updated MIUI overnight and announced publicly that Xiaomi had optimized its memory management.

He gave no details on how or what technology was used.

Only years later, when netizens dug up financial reports from several phone manufacturers, did they realize each company paid OrangeTech a patent royalty—tens of millions, even hundreds of millions, annually.

Only then did everyone understand: behind every Android customization in those years, OrangeTech had been lurking.

Meanwhile.

Wang Teng learned Chen Yansen had licensed the generational garbage collection algorithm to Xiaomi and Meizu, and immediately slapped his thigh, leaning over Chen Yansen’s desk: “Boss, that’s our killer app!”

I’ve come up with a better garbage collection algorithm—I sent it to your email. Evaluate the R&D timeline and get it deployed as soon as possible.

Chen Yansen didn’t even look up, speaking casually.

A new algorithm?

Wang Teng paused, then grinned—he knew his boss wasn’t that foolish.

Use version 1.0 to make money, version 2.0 to capture the market.

“Anything else?”

Chen Yansen looked up and saw Wang Teng still standing there grinning.

“Nope! I’m off!” Wang Teng snapped back to reality, grinned, and dashed to his office to open his email and study Chen Yansen’s algorithm logic.

“This is way superior to version 1.0—no wonder Chen Zong licensed it to two companies at once. Compared to this, version 1.0’s efficiency is way behind.”

After reading it, Wang Teng’s eyes lit up—he immediately gathered several algorithm engineers and plunged into the conference room.

Boss provides the plan; they execute it.

…

June slipped away in the blink of an eye.

With graduation approaching, campus buzzed with restless energy; many students returning from internships.

Everywhere—Pearl Lake, the gym, the library—people were taking graduation photos.

Graduation season was also breakup season.

Every night, someone downstairs cried bitterly—either dumped or betrayed by their girlfriend.

Song Yang, however, was the happiest—every day, people flooded the startup park to send packages, mostly large ones of clothes, earning him over ten yuan commission per order.

He now understood Chen Yansen’s words: summer break and the days before graduation really could make you count money until your hands cramped.

Six months without a sale, then one sale earns you three years’ income.

In just one week of graduation season, Song Yang earned twenty to thirty thousand yuan in courier commissions alone.

The day before vacation, Chen Yansen called Tang Zhenzhe and Song Yang to the second floor of the startup park and gave them brief instructions.

“Brother Sen, you want us to be campus general agents? No way!” Song Yang shook his head immediately.

When Chen Yansen had once advised him to become a courier agent, he’d earned seventy to eighty thousand yuan a year—he couldn’t possibly take on the flashlight campus card general agent role now.

Tang Zhenzhe was tempted, but since Song Yang refused, he didn’t dare speak up—only shook his head earnestly: “Brother Sen, if you’re swamped, Song Yang and I can help out—but the campus general agent role? Let’s skip it.”

"For each Level 2 agent card, the commission is fifty yuan—I’ll give you two eighty yuan, but I’m not letting go of everything; the recharge rebates are mine."

Seeing they didn’t agree, Chen Yansen smiled and explained.

Based on last September’s card sales, Tang Zhenzhe and Song Yang could each have earned forty to fifty thousand, but the bulk of the recharge rebates still rested in Chen Yansen’s hands.

"How about this—I’ll take ten yuan per card. I don’t even have to sell them myself; I just manage the Level 2 agents and coordinate with the telecom outlets. Getting thirty yuan per card feels too hot to handle."

After thinking it over, Song Yang was willing to accept only ten yuan per card.

"Same here," said Tang Zhenzhe. He felt the money came too easily and made him uneasy.

At ten yuan per card, he and Song Yang could each earn over ten thousand—still not insignificant, but far more reassuring than forty or fifty thousand.

"Alright, I’ll have Zihao assign you agents later. You two recruit more Level 2 agents within your departments. Whether you make money or not depends on the first two days after school starts."

Chen Yansen smiled helplessly; he gave them a chance to earn, yet they kept refusing.

College students are just too shy. If it were him, he’d want not just the card commissions but the recharge rebates too.

With that, Chen Yansen stood up and walked toward Room 206.

Song Yang pulled Tang Zhenzhe toward the first floor, planning to work out a campus card sales strategy for after the semester began.

Although Chen Yansen looked down on the slim profits from campus cards, he still wanted those dozens of threads of human vitality.

Little streams form rivers; tiny grains build towers—even the legs of a mosquito are meat!

(End of Chapter)