Chapter 214: Zhou Hongyi: Where Did 360

No. 335 Guoding Road, Ele. e Headquarters.

"By 7: 0 PM, the delivery order volume in Xuhui District was 713, and only 29 riders remain online—just 30% of the region's total."

Wang Yuan, in charge of marketing, frowned and reported one by one.

Compared to yesterday's order data, Ele. e's market share in Xuhui District plummeted by 90%, and even 70% of the delivery riders had left.

For a moment, the meeting room was suffocatingly tense.

Zhang Xuhao removed his black-rimmed glasses, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag; the smoke churned in his chest, slightly easing his taut nerves.

He turned to Kang Jia beside him and asked, "You're in charge of logistics—now that nearly all the riders in Xuhui have defected to KuaiPao, what do you suggest we do?"

As one of Ele. e's founders, Kang Jia primarily handled merchant partnerships, ground promotion, and delivery operations.

In the project's early days, he delivered meals during the day and coded with Zhang Xuhao at night; many of the riders who had fled Xuhui were old comrades who had worked with him for three or four years.

Yet when faced with KuaiPao's generous terms—1, 00 yuan monthly base salary, five insurances and one housing fund, accident insurance, quarterly bonuses, and bad-weather subsidies—these men instantly wavered.

In just one afternoon, over sixty left; the remaining twenty-odd were merely waiting to see Ele. e's headquarters' response.

"Only a pay raise can save us—otherwise, the market we've painstakingly built in Yangpu, Hongkou, Jing'an, and Xuhui will be seized by KuaiPao in less than two weeks."

Kang Jia spread his hands helplessly.

Deng Ye, overseeing administration and finance, spoke up: "At Ele. e's current order volume, matching KuaiPao's rider pay would increase logistics labor costs by 30% monthly."

"If KuaiPao has it, Ele. e must have it too! Kang Jia, notify all rider station managers: starting in February, all Ele. e delivery personnel will be enrolled in five insurances and one housing fund, plus accident insurance."

After a long pause, Zhang Xuhao suddenly stood up and ordered Kang Jia.

He knew that if they didn't act fast, within a week, every Ele. e rider would defect to KuaiPao.

"I'll draft a new labor contract as soon as possible."

Deng Ye nodded; seeing Zhang Xuhao's resolve, he responded immediately.

"No problem—I'll call right away and stabilize the riders' morale first."

Kang Jia nodded slightly.

The first clash between KuaiPao and Ele. e ended in Ele. e's total defeat.

Meanwhile.

News of the two food delivery platforms competing for customers, reported and reposted by self-media bloggers, quickly surged into the top 20 trending topics.

"Envy the Shanghai netizens—have a free milk tea on Ele. e in the morning, a free fried chicken cutlet on KuaiPao in the afternoon—what a cozy life!"

"@KuaiPaoDelivery @ChenYan Jinling, when will KuaiPao Delivery launch? I can't wait!"

"Although Ele. e is a Shanghai-native company, I'll say it plainly—KuaiPao's service quality is better."

"KuaiPao's CEO is also from Shanghai—besides, when I order food, do I care about the boss's hukou?"

"First time ordering KuaiPao—my rider called to say my food was stolen, but the platform gave me a 12-yuan no-minimum coupon instead."

Netizens chattered in the comments section.

Especially among Shanghai locals, feedback was scattered, but most users who had tried KuaiPao shared a unified impression: timely delivery, neat uniforms, smiling faces, and polite speech.

This prompted Shanghai residents who needed food delivery but had never downloaded KuaiPao to search for "KuaiPao" on the Orange App Store, Wandoujia, and App Treasure, then install and try it.

An hour later, more Shanghai netizens posted comments on Weibo.

"Ele. e's delivery speed is terrible—I only dare order milk tea and snacks, never hot meals, because they always arrive cold. KuaiPao is completely different—it arrives in under half an hour."

"The app homepage promises delivery within 29 minutes after the merchant prepares the meal. Ele. e should learn from KuaiPao on delivery speed."

"Learn? How? I talked to a KuaiPao rider today—he gets a base salary, five insurances and one housing fund, quarterly bonuses, and the company provides his e-bike, uniform, helmet, and delivery box for free—minimum monthly pay is 7, 00 to 8, 00 yuan."

"What? 7, 00 to 8, 00? Bro, can you delete your comment? My brother saw it and felt terrible."

In 2012 Shanghai, many college and vocational graduates earned less than 4, 00 yuan as their first job's starting salary.

Just as online debate raged.

Pei Yi, Kou Zhen, and others were also watching real-time data in their offices.

"21, 00 orders! Sales of 679, 00 yuan! No wonder Shanghai—average order value is way higher than Luzhou."

Kou Zhen laughed.

"The first step went smoother than I expected. Thank goodness YunSu's team backed us—otherwise, order bottlenecks and surges would've lost us merchants and users."

Pei Yi leaned against the desk and replied.

"Over sixty Ele. e riders in Xuhui have joined KuaiPao—tomorrow's delivery pressure will ease significantly."

Kou Zhen chuckled.

He hadn't expected KuaiPao to dismantle Ele. e's rider team before even launching its merchant and user campaigns.

In short, even if Ele. e gets orders in Xuhui tomorrow, there won't be enough riders to deliver them.

"It won't be easy to crush Ele. e—Zhang Xuhao is a Shanghai Jiao Tong grad. His scale was small before simply due to lack of funding; now he's secured 50 million from Ali, so tomorrow he'll likely make major adjustments to rider benefits."

Pei Yi shook his head—he wasn't as optimistic as Kou Zhen.

"Boss Pei, you mean Ele. e will also offer base salaries and five insurances and one housing fund?"

Kou Zhen's smile faded as he asked instinctively.

"If he's not an idiot, he absolutely will! So, whether we win this battle depends on real strength."

Pei Yi analyzed calmly.

Efficient delivery algorithms, stable order systems, vast merchant resources, and strong execution—these are KuaiPao's core strengths.

From the user's perspective, first, it must be cheap; second, delivery must be fast. Nail these two points, and KuaiPao can hardly lose.

As for traffic, Pei Yi didn't worry at all.

First, he had Pinbei and Orange App Store; second, he had Tencent.

On the other side.

Chen Yan opened 360 Mall, searched for Haier W910, then entered the product page.

Pre-sale inventory was 10, 00 units, but from morning until 8 PM, only 926 had sold.

"As I suspected—Zhou Hongyi really thinks users are fools. If he'd partnered with Huawei or ZTE, there might've been a chance—but he picked Haier."

Chen Yan sneered, unable to resist mocking.

What's the difference between 360 co-branding with Haier and Gree making phones?

In fact, Lei Zong was also monitoring Haier W910 sales; upon learning the daily sales hadn't broken 1, 00, he exhaled in relief, a cold smile appearing on his face.

Faced with such dismal sales, Haier was stunned, and Zhou Hongyi was stunned too.

Where did 360's 400 million users go?

Zhou Hongyi couldn't understand this question. He opened Weibo, found the promotional post for Haier W910, and opened the comments.

"Real-time sales: 926 units? Seriously, are there really idiots buying this?"

"Qualcomm 8260A dual-core 1. GHz processor, 4. -inch HD Retina screen, 1080p video recording, 1GB RAM, 8GB ROM—sold for 1, 88 yuan? Feels like a steal!"

"Haier phone? Just the name sounds sketchy. If it were Huawei, ZTE, OPPO, or Orange, I might consider it."

"I wouldn't buy it—what if they install 500MB of ad software you can't uninstall?"

Zhou Hongyi skimmed a few comments and immediately flew into a rage.

What's wrong with Haier phones?

Aren't they better than Xiaomi and Orange phones?

All of you are fools!

Zhou Hongyi's liver ached with anger—he believed Xiaomi and Orange phones, at launch, had neither brand recognition nor a complete offline after-sales network.

Haier's main business was home appliances, but in brand influence, wasn't it superior to Xiaomi and Orange?

Zhou Hongyi was deeply resentful—then his eyes caught two more comments: "Xiaomi phones sell for 1, 99 yuan, claiming only 5% profit margin. Haier W910 sells for 1, 88 yuan with similar specs—is it cutting corners?"

"Just came from Lei Zong's comment section—Haier W910 downgraded its battery, camera, and screen, especially the display supplier, which also supplied last year's Banana phones with extremely high black-screen rates."

Lei Zong?

Lei Yi?

Zhou Hongyi had a fiery temper—he didn't even respect Ma Huateng of Shenzhen, let alone Lei Yi, whose net worth was lower than his own.

Thinking of this, he opened Lei Yi's Weibo homepage and quickly found a comment beneath the first post that exposed his past.

It appeared objective, but appearing in Lei Yi's comment section made Zhou Hongyi narrow his eyes and overthink.

Perhaps Haier W910 underperformed, or perhaps he suspected Lei Yi had hired someone to smear him.

Zhou Hongyi snorted and posted a sarcastic Weibo.

The gist: Don't treat users like fools—a certain brand's phone has poor performance, overheats badly, and lags severely, yet sells for more than Haier W910.

Though he didn't name names, netizens often joked about Xiaomi phones: "You can fry eggs on a Xiaomi," "Looking forward to winter warmth," "Born to overheat? Your phone's about to burn out."

Clearly, he was insulting Xiaomi.

Upon seeing Zhou Hongyi's post, netizens immediately jumped at the spectacle, frantically @ing Lei Yi, all eager to fan the flames.

Lei Yi, alerted by Li Wanqiang, logged into Weibo, read Zhou Hongyi's latest post, and immediately frowned, his anger rising.

You bastard, Zhou Hongyi!

You've been calling me "big brother," treating me to meals, extracting countless phone manufacturing insights and plans from me, then turning around to launch a special edition!

Now that Haier W910 isn't selling, you're trying to ride the trend and deliberately smear Xiaomi's product quality.

Since you've turned hostile, Lei Yi wouldn't spare him any face.

He directly named and mocked: "Can your phone's quality even compare to Xiaomi's? Look at what screen you're using!"

"I'm using a domestic screen—so what? Are you proud to use Japanese parts? Are domestic screens garbage? Don't forget, Orange phones use domestic screens too."

Zhou Hongyi replied online, firing back passionately.

Last year, they were still close friends, calling each other brothers; now, they didn't care, openly exposing each other's product flaws.

Zhou Hongyi's reply was actually meant to muddy the waters—the Orange C2 used a 260-yuan AMOLED screen, a high-end configuration by global standards.

Everyone was using domestic screens, but the gap between domestic screens was enormous.

Leiyi Army grew furious: first, it disclosed Xiaomi's procurement plan, confirming it had indeed purchased domestic screens from Jingdongfang, then it highlighted the quality differences among different suppliers.

The Big Pineapple phone, which used the same screen as the Haier W910, was dragged out by netizens and repeatedly lambasted.

Many users who had bought the Big Pineapple phone declared: "Whoever buys it will regret it—time will prove everything."

"I bought one for my wife; the screen went black after thirteen days. The after-sales service sent me a replacement, and it went black again after three days."

Zhou Hongyi and Leiyi Army argued until ten p. . When the shouting finally stopped, he checked the sales page again: the original figure of 926 units had dropped to 901—twenty-five users had already requested refunds!

After learning the Haier W910's screen had issues, who would still dare to place an order?

After all, 1, 88 yuan wasn't cheap—you either gritted your teeth and went for the Orange C2, or chose a Xiaomi phone.

After months of back-and-forth, it couldn't even sell a thousand units on launch day—after this, which phone manufacturer would dare to collaborate with 360 on a special edition?

Lao Zhou was stunned, and he directly blamed Leiyi Army for this loss.

He then unleashed a full-scale assault, exposing every fatal flaw of Xiaomi phones.

This scene left insiders speechless—they thought: there's no such thing as a wrong nickname, only a wrongly chosen name—no wonder he was called the Red Cannon.

At eleven p. ., Chen Nian from Fanke arrived and raged on Weibo that the Haier W910 was garbage.

"Chen Zong, last year Fanke aimed for ten billion yuan in sales—so tell me, can you hit half that next year?"

Zhou Hongyi struck right at Chen Nian's weak point, enraging him thoroughly.

February 1st was an absolute spectacle for netizens—they spent the entire day feasting on gossip.

(End of Chapter)