Chapter 237: Only the Ruthless Win in the End! Ele.me

In March, Xucheng was battered by wind and rain, the sky and earth plunged into darkness.

Along the roadsides, rapeseed plants surged upward under the rain, appearing lush and green from afar.

Chen Yansen leaned against the car window, recalling Xu Zhenhui's words: "Boss Chen, I don't care about other cities, but in Xucheng, as soon as you speak, the authorized documents for KuaiPao will be on your desk the same day."

They were truly afraid Orange Tech and Pinbei Mall would leave!

In reality, Chen Yansen had no immediate plan to relocate the company, but he could start preparing ahead.

Xucheng's supporting infrastructure was still lacking.

If not for his enrollment at Xuyuan University, he would have moved out long ago.

Even though after two years Chen Yansen hadn't even memorized all his professors' names, it didn't stop him from becoming Xuyuan's model student, outstanding scholar, distinguished alumnus, president of the Anhui Provincial College Student Entrepreneurship Alliance, and recipient of the national scholarship.

All these messy titles had been forcibly shoved onto him by Tang Qingshan.

He didn't want them—but he couldn't refuse!

"Boss, when will KuaiPao's Series B funding round open? Ali, Tencent, DST, and Jinsha Venture are all highly interested."

Gao Weilin, sitting beside him, asked softly.

"Wait until Pei Yi secures Shanghai's takeout market," Chen Yansen replied, snapping back to attention.

At this point, KuaiPao hadn't even fully absorbed Lucheng's market.

He knew well: a provincial capital with a permanent population of seven to eight million generated at least 800, 00 takeout orders daily.

Although KuaiPao still lacked product categories like supermarkets, vegetables, fruits, and pharmaceuticals, Lucheng's current daily average of 170, 00 orders clearly hadn't reached its ceiling.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in Shanghai, heavy rain poured down just as fiercely.

Under such terrible weather, takeout orders surged—but delivery speeds slowed drastically.

Puddles covered the roads; electric scooters risked slipping with even slight acceleration.

Throughout the streets and alleys, KuaiPao riders in orange uniforms passed by, all instinctively slowing their pace.

To ensure delivery efficiency and rider safety, Pei Yi immediately ordered his tech team to reduce the backend order load.

Riders' nominal hourly wages dropped by thirty percent, but with all subsidies added, their per-delivery pay rose significantly.

First, KuaiPao offered bad-weather subsidies; second, Chen Yansen had specifically instructed that during extreme heat, cold, wind, or rain, the full delivery fee must be paid to the riders.

As a result, Ele. e's online rider count plummeted, while KuaiPao remained unaffected, still keeping delivery times under twenty-nine minutes.

Users ordering on Ele. e suffered: estimated arrival times kept getting pushed back; some waited over two hours, only to call the restaurant and learn no rider had accepted the order.

The restaurants were equally helpless!

After requesting refunds, these users turned to KuaiPao and reordered—only to receive their meals within twenty minutes.

Forcing riders out with high per-order fees during bad weather seemed immoral, but from a business standpoint, it was the wisest move.

Typically, users tolerate delivery delays from a takeout platform no more than two or three times; once they realize Ele. e's delivery speed lags far behind KuaiPao's, they immediately switch apps.

After just a few more such incidents, even the most loyal customers would unhesitatingly uninstall Ele. e.

Nobody wants cold rice!

In March's unpredictable chill, nobody wants to drink a cold bubble tea either!

No. 200 Longcao Road, KuaiPao headquarters.

"Boss Pei, as of 4 p. ., seven riders have fallen and been injured, but thankfully all are minor scrapes," the delivery department head reported, stepping up to Pei Yi's desk.

"I understand. Tell the delivery team the company will cover all medical and lost-wage expenses."

Pei Yi took a deep breath and replied calmly.

Kang Guodong, in Lucheng, upon learning the weather conditions, had advised him: force riders offline or suspend service in areas with heavy rain and poor accessibility.

Pei Yi flatly refused, scoffing at the idea.

He wasn't heartless—he understood human nature deeply.

If he followed Kang Guodong's advice, those offline KuaiPao riders might just register as Ele. e riders and start taking orders there.

Handing the market over to the enemy like that was sheer stupidity!

"Understood, Boss Pei," the delivery head sighed, turning to relay the order.

If Chen Yansen were present, he'd support Pei Yi's decision.

He chose Pei Yi over Kang Guodong not only because their strengths differed, but because Pei Yi was sufficiently rational, calm, and focused on profit.

Kang Guodong's thinking wasn't wrong—it just came at the worst possible moment in the market battle.

Once KuaiPao established monopoly dominance in takeout and had ample delivery resources, Kang Guodong's strategy would outperform Pei Yi's.

But right now, Kang Guodong's plan was tantamount to suicide.

Someone with the same mindset was Baidu Takeout's CEO four years later, who announced just before Spring Festival: all riders get paid leave with travel subsidies.

After the holiday, not only did all riders flee to Meituan and Ele. e, but one-fifth of users also vanished.

During Spring Festival, if you wanted takeout, you had no choice but Meituan or Ele. e.

The real logic behind Baidu Takeout's CEO's decision was this: in first- and second-tier cities, population mobility was high, and Spring Festival orders dropped to the year's lowest point; rider income collapsed, so retaining them would require triple or quadruple overtime pay.

Weighing costs and benefits, he made a decision that seemed reasonable—but was utterly foolish.

He aimed to cut labor costs, but ended up losing market share and trapping Baidu Takeout in a long-term delivery capacity crisis.

On the other side.

Zhang Xuhao stood in his office at No. 335 Guoding Road, staring out at the rain, unable to see the road conditions ten meters away.

He turned to Kang Jia: "What's our current order delay rate?"

"Thirty-one percent," Kang Jia replied with difficulty.

There were too few riders online; orders piled up, impossible to deliver.

"I don't understand."

Zhang Xuhao muttered to himself.

To compete with KuaiPao, he'd paid Ele. e riders' social insurance, purchased accident insurance, and given them a monthly base salary of 1, 00 yuan—yet during the platform's toughest moment, one-third of them went offline.

As a result, complaints from users and merchants surged over tenfold!

"Some riders feel Ele. e offers no quarterly bonuses or bad-weather subsidies for heat, cold, or rain."

Kang Jia chuckled bitterly.

Before KuaiPao entered Shanghai, these riders had no five insurances or housing fund, nor a base salary—and still worked hard.

But now that they had a comparison, Ele. e riders' attitudes changed.

"Some? Probably most," Zhang Xuhao sneered. He admitted he'd underestimated human nature.

Kang Jia stayed silent.

He knew—and Zhang Xuhao knew—that Ele. e also lagged far behind KuaiPao in route planning and order dispatching.

In the same time, KuaiPao riders completed more orders, faster and better; Ele. e riders could not.

"Issue a notice: riders who log in for six hours today get 100 yuan; those who log in for ten hours get 200 yuan."

Zhang Xuhao thought for a moment and ordered Kang Jia.

The fundamental logic of successful business must be emotionless—money is the most effective motivator.

Kang Jia grunted and went to act.

As KuaiPao expanded across the entire HK district, the atmosphere in Ele. e's office grew increasingly gloomy.

Sometimes Kang Jia even spotted KuaiPao riders near the company.

This meant KuaiPao had already set up stations in the YP district.

When Ele. e's field BD teams occasionally met KuaiPao's business reps on the street, they merely glared at each other, all keeping restraint.

After all, no one dared ignore a police inspector's summons!

At 9: 0 p. ., Shanghai's rain gradually eased, leaving puddles of varying depths in the alleys.

After working over ten hours straight, orders slowly dwindled, and KuaiPao riders finally got a chance to rest.

Gathering in small groups on open spaces in commercial zones, they ate dinner while loudly discussing their earnings.

"Longlin Ma! Today I was almost worn out! The company's a piece of shit—rain was so heavy we couldn't even open our eyes, and they still wouldn't let us go offline!"

"Boss Zhou, stop complaining! When you checked your estimated income earlier, your grin stretched ear to ear—how much did you make? Why are you so happy?"

"Shut up! Don't pry," Li Zhou opened a bottle of iced black tea and gulped it down.

"Probably 1, 00! I only did 70 orders, and with subsidies I'm nearly at 1, 00—Boss Zhou must've made more. It's tiring, but damn, the money's easy!" said a short-haired, round-faced chubby rider, grinning.

"Who cares how much I made? I'm risking my life!"

Li Zhou rolled his eyes and snapped.

Hearing this, many riders fell silent.

Yeah, today had been terrifying.

They'd earned four or five days' pay in one day—but their hands and feet still trembled.

"Boss Zhou, I heard the company's planning to install takeout lockers at Riyueguang—is that why we won't have to climb stairs anymore?"

"Dream on! The lockers aren't even confirmed yet—it's years away! But the guys near Riyueguang are lucky—they're the pilot zone; soon they'll just drop orders into the locker and be done!"

Li Zhou smiled, a hint of envy in his eyes.

Of course, the strong demand for takeout lockers was limited to commercial office districts, where multiple companies and complex personnel often had access controls, forcing deliveries to stop at the ground floor.

For users, lockers eliminated risks of lost or wrong orders and increased pickup flexibility.

But for residential areas, lockers were a pseudo-need—this was why Pei Yi only promoted them in commercial zones.

One week later.

KuaiPao established seventeen stations in the YP district; Kou Zhen led his field sales team, street by street, migrating Ele. e merchants onto KuaiPao.

The order share ratio quickly shifted from 1: to 8: .

At this point, Kuai Pao and Eleme's service areas overlapped heavily, with fierce competition daily across the four major districts of XuHui, Hongkou, Yangpu, and Jing'an.

Eleme even raised its new-user subsidies to a flat 20 yuan off, and for returning users, offered daily cash vouchers of 5 to 12 yuan.

By this stage, all marketing tactics had lost their effect—it came down to who was cheaper and who delivered faster.

But as Kuai Pao increased the number of delivery lockers in the Riyueguang, Zhongyin, and Taifu Plaza areas, Eleme's pressure grew ever greater.

With funds on the verge of exhaustion, Zhang Xuhao had to face reality: after three years running his food delivery business, he had lost to a latecomer who simply copied him.

After reaching consensus with Wang Yuan, Kang Jia, and Deng Ye, he dialed Gao Weilin's number.

"You want to sell your company to Kuai Pao?" Gao Weilin felt stunned upon understanding the caller's intent.

"Boss Zhang, didn't I hear Ali is planning to fully acquire Eleme?" Gao Weilin recovered and smiled in reply.

The implication: go talk to Ali.

Eleme has little residual value—buying it now is pure waste of money.

After being rejected, Zhang Xuhao hung up, dazed and defeated, then sought out Ali's Ji Gang.

To his surprise, Ji Gang didn't wait for him to speak: "Boss Zhang, you missed the best opportunity, do you understand?"

Zhang Xuhao opened his mouth, let out a long sigh, then muttered weakly, "Thank you," before putting down his phone.

"Deng Ye, how much money is left in the account?" After locking himself in his office and sitting in silence for half a day, Zhang Xuhao walked over to Deng Ye's desk and asked.

"Just over two million," Deng Ye bit his lip, sensing Zhang Xuhao's thoughts.

"Tell everyone I'm sorry—and distribute this money to them," Zhang Xuhao gave a bitter laugh. He'd planned to offer N+1 severance to current staff, preserving a final shred of dignity—but reality slapped him hard.

On March 16, Eleme announced a temporary suspension of service.

Eleme's riders quit en masse and joined Kuai Pao 's delivery team.

Kuai Pao 's HR became so brazen they set up a temporary interview booth right outside Gate 335 Guoding Road, fully absorbing Eleme's software engineers, database administrators, operations staff, field marketers—even their customer service personnel.

In Pei Yi's own words: many of them were graduates from Jiaotong and Tongji Universities—they just picked the wrong company, not because they lacked ability.

The first food delivery war of 2012 ended in under two months, with Eleme stepping down early.

Shanghai's food delivery market opened wide to Kuai Pao; with no competitors left to restrain it, Kuai Pao began rapid expansion, preparing to extend its operations across the entire Shanghai region.

The next day, Wang Yuan, Kang Jia, and Deng Ye—who were still wrapping up final tasks—each received a call from Kuai Pao 's HR, leaving them utterly bewildered.

When Zhang Xuhao heard, he exploded in rage: "Little bastards—they're taking everything, even the leftovers!"

What hurt him most was that all three of his brothers got calls—no one called him.

Wasn't this a slap in the face?

"Boss Zhang, I'm sorry—you must understand how hard it is to switch industries," Kang Jia, who had overseen Eleme's field promotion and delivery teams, said after a moment's thought, his expression apologetic.

"It's fine. I wish you all great success, boundless prospects."

Zhang Xuhao forced a smile and patted Kang Jia on the shoulder.

He had run his project into the ground—he had no right to judge others' choices, even if they went to Kuai Pao.

Wang Yuan and Deng Ye exchanged glances, a flicker of interest in their eyes.

…

…

On March 18, Kuai Taxi entered Jin Ling!

(End of Chapter)