Chapter 241: Kuai Run Rider: Can I Even Buy a House in Shanghai?

Shanghai, Yi Garden Office Building, 200 Longcao Road.

At 4 p. ., during Kuaipao 's tea break, the local female administrative staff distribute pre-portioned fruit platters and milk tea to each employee's desk.

At this moment, employees from the Operations Department gather in small groups, eating fruit and whispering: "I heard the company is launching its B-round financing; Tencent, Alibaba, Hillhouse Capital, and Jinsha Ventures are participating."

"What's that got to do with us?"

"You don't get it! Boss Kou from Business Development said everyone gets stock options; given the boss's generous nature, even customer service might get a few thousand shares."

"Bro Li, explain to us how these stock options are calculated?"

A young man in the crowd asked Li Quan across from him.

"Simply put, it's like giving us a withdrawal slip—when the company goes public or launches its option repurchase plan, the money's ours!"

Li Quan held his fruit platter, skewered a piece of pineapple, popped it in his mouth, and grinned as he explained.

Whether the options could be successfully cashed out depended on exercise conditions, exercise price, and IPO plans—far from as simple as Li Quan made it sound.

But from what he knew, the boss's first company, though never listed, still saw him personally buy back frozen options in cash after selling to Alibaba.

Combined with the fact that all subsidiaries under Senlian Capital had a uniform exercise price of $0. 1 per share, Li Quan's claim wasn't wrong.

After the company goes public, the employee's option gain equals the stock price minus the exercise price, minus applicable taxes.

The lower the exercise price, the larger the spread!

So a $0. 1 exercise price is practically free!

On the other side.

Wang Yuan, Kang Jia, and Deng Ye sat under the shade canopy on the rooftop garden, their faces glowing with joy since joining Kuaipao.

"I confirmed with Boss Pei—the financing is real, and the stock option incentive for everyone is real," Wang Yuan said excitedly.

Currently, Kuaipao operates only in Lucheng and Shanghai, yet its valuation has already reached $1 billion.

Even if each person gets only tens of thousands of shares, their future value won't be less than several million U. . dollars.

Remember, many outer-ring housing units in Shanghai cost less than 20, 00 yuan per square meter—this equity, if successfully cashed out, could easily buy a large apartment or even a standalone villa.

"What about delivery riders?" Kang Jia couldn't help asking.

"Of course—they sign the same labor contracts as us, with Kuaipao Technology Company," Deng Ye chuckled, shrugging.

"It's no surprise Eleme lost to Kuaipao; our salaries and benefits alone make us unbeatable."

Kang Jia sighed, unable to hide his admiration.

"Old Kang, Eleme is history—stop saying 'we' and 'us.' If Boss Pei or Boss Kou hear you, they'll think we're corporate spies," Deng Ye raised a thumb, signaling silence.

Kang Jia froze, then quickly recovered, grinning apologetically: "Damn! Slip of the tongue!"

"How's Hao Ge doing at Nuomi?" Wang Yuan murmured.

"Nuomi gave him a decent position and pay—Regional Operations Director for North China. But who'll win this group-buy war?" Deng Ye said calmly.

He was now Finance Director of Kuaipao 's Shanghai branch; he'd long lost any reverence for Zhang Xuhao, the food delivery pioneer.

"Who cares! I only care how many shares I'll get from this option plan," Wang Yuan waved dismissively.

In truth, including Kang Jia and Deng Ye, they all harbored resentment toward Zhang Xuhao.

If Zhang Xuhao had accepted Gao Weilin's financing—or even acquisition offer— Kuaipao and Eleme ' fates might have reversed; now, the general manager seats would be theirs.

Project failure was everyone's responsibility, but the greatest blame lay squarely with Zhang Xuhao.

He used Senlian Capital's offer to pressure other VCs into inflating his valuation, alienating Chen Yansen, missing the optimal financing window, and inviting a powerful rival.

Kang Jia and Deng Ye exchanged a knowing smile, full of anticipation.

Meanwhile.

In the banquet hall on the top floor of the Park Hyatt, representatives from Tencent, Alibaba, Jinsha Ventures, Hillhouse Capital, and Kuaipao gathered in one room.

Chen Yansen sat with Liu Zhiping, Zhang Lei, Zhu Xiaohu, and others at a wine table, chatting casually.

Negotiations were left to Gao Weilin and Pei Yi.

"You're different from other entrepreneurs your age—young people prefer asset-light models, but you do the opposite: you invest in whatever's hardest to make money from."

Liu Zhiping teased.

Chen Yansen smiled: "But Tencent invested too—great minds think alike."

Zhu Xiaohu and Zhang Lei chuckled but said nothing.

Food delivery seems low-margin, but volume makes up for it; according to projections, once Kuaipao fully unlocks the potential of Lucheng and Shanghai, daily orders will hit two million.

If this model expands nationwide, daily orders could surpass 100 million!

At that point, daily active users won't be less than 100 million either.

Remember, this is a consumer app with 100 million daily actives—its daily revenue would be astronomical.

It could also leverage this massive traffic to expand into hotels, movies, entertainment, ticketing, and more, widening its moat.

Zhu Xiaohu and Zhang Lei had considered backing a new platform themselves.

But first: could any new team match Chen Yansen's operational prowess?

Second: Kuaipao already had Gaode Maps' navigation advantage and led far ahead in intelligent delivery scheduling.

Even Eleme, with over three years of Chendian, couldn't match Kuaipao in order matching or route planning.

They didn't believe a brand-new food delivery startup could surpass Kuaipao in these two areas or break its technological barrier.

Only if BAT entered the game would there be any real chance.

But Tencent lacked e-commerce DNA, Alibaba was busy preparing for its IPO, and Baidu was focused on cloud computing and storage.

Domestically, Kuaipao had almost no rivals.

"By the way, I heard Kuaide Taxi is hiring full-time chauffeurs in Nanjing and Hangzhou, offering them five insurances and one fund, plus a base salary?"

Liu Zhiping couldn't resist asking.

Zhu Xiaohu immediately perked up, fixing his gaze on Chen Yansen, waiting for his explanation.

If Chen Yansen started recklessly spending the funding, Jinsha Ventures would immediately abandon Kuaide's B-round and sell its shares.

"Yes, it's true—but the benefits apply only to a small number of full-time drivers; so far, only dozens have joined."

Chen Yansen naturally didn't tell the truth, making up an excuse.

Under his explanation, the move became a key strategy for Kuaide Taxi to improve service quality and increase scheduling flexibility.

First, it rapidly expanded the driver pool and eased the pain of hard-to-hail cabs during peak hours; second, adding full-time drivers and private vehicles improved response times in remote areas by 40%, cutting average passenger wait time to three minutes.

"Compliance is a big issue, but you can just go ahead," Liu Zhiping nodded dismissively.

Who said you couldn't act without paperwork or authorization?

After all, no successful entrepreneur was a rule-following simpleton.

Zhu Xiaohu and Zhang Lei strongly agreed: if the scale was big enough, non-compliance could become compliance.

Only when the evening light faded did Lin Chenfeng from Tencent, Ji Gang from Alibaba, and the investment managers from Jinsha Ventures and Hillhouse Capital reach an agreement: Kuaipao 's B-round valuation was set at $1. billion.

In his previous life, Eleme accepted its D-round when daily orders were around 100, 00, valued at $400 million; its F-round, with daily orders near one million, was valued at $1 billion.

Overall, Kuaipao 's $1. billion valuation had some inflation, but Tencent and Alibaba raised no objections.

Zhu Xiaohu and Zhang Lei stayed silent—effectively accepting the price.

Everyone knew that if they participated in this round, they'd need to pay over three times as much to secure the same equity in the next round.

When Pei Yi heard the $1. billion price, he felt like he was walking on clouds, unsteady and dreamlike.

Half a year ago, he was a graduate student at Lucheng University of Technology; half a year later, he was the CEO of a unicorn company worth over a hundred million.

Kuaipao exchanged 15% equity for $180 million in funding.

Pei Yi needed to use this money to quickly open the Hangzhou and Nanjing food delivery markets, then expand from provincial capitals to surrounding cities, aiming to reach over one million daily orders as soon as possible.

Though Shanghai wasn't Chen Yansen's home turf, he still guided Liu Zhiping, Zhang Lei, and Zhu Xiaohu effortlessly to a second venue after dinner.

At 11: 0 p. ., he left a private club.

Half an hour later, driver Xiao Li pulled up in front of Yunjin Villa, No. 116.

Chen Yansen stepped out and walked straight into the bright, clean living room.

On TV, "The Legend of Zhen Huan" played; Song Yuncheng was curled on the sofa, eyes half-closed, fast asleep.

"This guy's sleep quality is really good."

Chen Yansen smiled faintly, turned off the TV, picked up Song Yuncheng, and carried him upstairs to the bedroom.

…

…

The next morning.

HR staff from Kuaipao 's Lucheng and Shanghai branches carried thick stacks of documents to begin one-on-one meetings with employees, first explaining the stock option policy, then informing them that 25% of the options would vest annually over four years.

If an employee left mid-way, they could only take the vested portion.

Everyone—from customer service and riders to operations, finance, and marketing staff at headquarters—received options, differing only in quantity.

Executives like Kou Zhen, who previously had no options, smiled broadly upon seeing the numbers on their agreements, feeling a stronger sense of belonging to Kuaipao.

Wang Yuan, Kang Jia, Deng Ye, and over two hundred new employees who had left Eleme all received generous option grants.

Outside the Kaixuan Business Building on Yishan Road, Li Zhou discussed the option policy with several colleagues.

"State, how many shares did you get?" a colleague asked curiously.

"Six thousand shares—$1. 0 per share, so I'll earn about ten thousand yuan extra per year. I'm saving it for my son's college tuition," Li Zhou chuckled.

"When our valuation hits $10 billion, you won't just afford tuition—you could buy several houses," another colleague laughed.

To the riders, Kuaipao was their own company.

The remaining riders also received between 4, 00 and 6, 00 shares each, imagining how much cash they'd get if the company's valuation soared to $10 billion.

After calculating for a long time, they still couldn't figure it out, and finally gave up.

He remembered only one thing: "As long as I can buy a house in Shanghai."

Could people like them—calloused laborers who braved wind and rain—ever settle down in Shanghai?

Li Zhou and the others didn't dare hope for much, but when delivering meals, their smiles grew brighter and their service quality improved steadily.

After securing Chen Yansen's Series B funding for KuaiPao, he didn't rush back to Xu City; instead, he took Song Yuncheng to meet with brand owners from Shanghai's apparel industry.

Led by Zhou Jiancheng of Metersbonwe, they invited over a dozen brands—including Semir, La Chapelle, Esprit, and Peilongmeng—to host Chen Yansen in a private room at the Peace Hotel.

After all, PinBei's influence in e-commerce had quietly surpassed Jingdong; more and more merchants in the industry now regarded PinBei as their second most important online sales channel.

Chen Yansen handled these seasoned business veterans with ease; after a few drinks, he secured each company's marketing budget for the second half of the year.

Sated and full, Chen Yansen politely declined Zhou Jiancheng's next arrangement and left the restaurant with Song Yuncheng, strolling along Nanjing East Road.

Xiao Li drove in circles nearby, waiting for his boss's call.

(End of Chapter)