Chapter 293: Wang Xin: Everyone Pays Half a Month

"Hey, what do I need that for? Base salary, social insurance, high per-order pay—just get to work!" the Meituan rider scratched his head and smiled.

"Bro, take a look at the main road—cars rushing by nonstop—can you guarantee you'll never have an accident in your life?"

The KuaiPao rider sneered dismissively.

"Are you still hiring?" the Meituan rider glanced at the roadside, swallowed hard, and turned to ask.

"Of course we are! Listen to me—take off your uniform, come to the station to sign up. Beijing just launched, we still need at least ten thousand more riders. Join KuaiPao early, complete three months, and you get stock options as a bonus."

The KuaiPao rider urged enthusiastically.

Inviting a Meituan rider to join KuaiPao earned a 150-yuan cash reward—that was his main reason for approaching him.

"Alright, I've heard KuaiPao pays well and offers great benefits, but I didn't expect even insurance to be this comprehensive. Brother, you're right—who can guarantee they'll never get into a traffic accident? What if I hit a luxury car? I'd sell every pot and pan and still couldn't pay up."

The Meituan rider agreed wholeheartedly.

"Come on, I'll take you to the station!" the KuaiPao rider grinned, already imagining the 150 yuan hitting his account.

As they left, he called out to the remaining Meituan riders: "If any of you guys are thinking about it, come with me!"

The others exchanged glances, unsure how to respond—was it really possible to quit on the first day?

To be fair, Meituan offered base salary, social insurance, and order-boosting bonuses—even if it lacked other insurances, in Beijing in 2012, it was still a decent job.

In the end, only one person switched on the spot.

On its first day launching food delivery, Meituan hit over 1, 00 orders thanks to its "New Users Get 15 Yuan Off" promotion.

Though the pilot succeeded, Meituan's dispatch system, route planning, and order modules were riddled with bugs, making riders curse nonstop.

After all, it was rushed out to seize market share.

It worked—but it was terrible to use.

Meituan's entry into food delivery didn't just catch Pei Yi's attention; Li Yanhong, who had just acquired Lashou. om, was watching closely too.

He wanted to emulate Gaode Maps, embedding travel, food delivery, and group-buying services into navigation to complete Baidu's local life services strategy and create a positive feedback loop of traffic and monetization.

"Dan Jiawei betrayed Ali first, then Meituan—I can't trust someone like that. After board discussion, we've decided to entrust Lashou. om to you two."

"Zhenbing, handle group-buying; Zhongpu, expand the food delivery market. Any problems?"

In the office, Li Yanhong instructed his two subordinates.

From an employee's perspective, Dan Jiawei's actions were perfectly reasonable—if a better company with better pay comes along, isn't switching jobs natural?

Everyone calls Lü Bu a traitor who served three masters, yet Liu Bei switched jobs dozens of times and faced no criticism—wasn't it just because Liu Bei was the boss and Lü Bu was the employee?

If everyone emulated Lü Bu, who would still work loyally for their boss?

"Understood, no issues," Gong Zhenbing replied with a smile and nodded.

He had joined Baidu in 2003 and was unquestionably one of Li Yanhong's "people"—experienced, skilled in internet sales operations and channel development.

In Li Yanhong's eyes, he was the undisputed top choice for Lashou's CEO.

Wang Zhongpu was smart, pragmatic, grounded in management, and possessed a strong strategic sense for business pacing.

"Thank you, Boss, for your trust," Wang Zhongpu, sitting beside him and called out by Li Yanhong, quickly responded.

Leading a new project alone was a golden opportunity for promotion and pay raise, a path into Baidu's core decision-making circle—but it also carried enormous risk.

If successful, everything would be fine; if it failed, he might keep his job, but his career at Baidu would likely be over.

A boss's trust was extremely precious—and usually came only once.

"Go do it. I want to see the product online as soon as possible," Li Yanhong waved his hand.

With Meituan's Wang Xin already reaching into food delivery, Baidu had to move faster.

Gong Zhenbing and Wang Zhongpu exchanged smiles, satisfied, and left the office to separately oversee their projects.

But Dan Jiawei's situation was far from pleasant—labeled a "traitor who served three masters," he was clearly unwelcome at Baidu.

Since Lashou was sold to Baidu, Li Yanhong had met him only once; every regional report from East, North, South, and Central China skipped him entirely and went straight to Li Yanhong.

As a seasoned office veteran, he knew clearly: Li Yanhong likely intended to replace him as Lashou's CEO with a Baidu "old guard."

Once he realized this, Dan Jiawei started slacking off, spending all day on personal matters.

He couldn't go back to Ali, and Meituan was out of the question.

So he turned his attention to Tencent, Sequoia Capital, JD. om, and Suning.

Tencent was preparing to bundle Qzone Group-Buying, Paipai, and Yixun for sale—there was no role for Dan Jiawei, so they outright rejected him.

Suning's Zhang Jindong thought much like Li Yanhong—he placed extreme importance on employee stability. For someone like Dan Jiawei, who switched jobs three times in two years, Zhang might reluctantly accept him for a mid-level management role.

But for senior management? Forget it!

Those positions were reserved for internal people!

Only JD's Liu Qiangdong expressed interest in accepting him.

But JD's salary and stock incentives were only average among internet giants.

Dan Jiawei thought the pay was too low!

Helpless, he obtained Chen Yan's phone number from Zhu Xiaohu of Jinsha Capital.

After much hesitation, Dan Jiawei finally dialed.

On the other end.

Chen Yan had just finished a meeting with Pei Yi and Kang Guodong when his desk phone rang—he glanced at the screen: an unknown Beijing number.

He thought for a moment, then pressed answer.

"Mr. Chen, sorry to disturb you so abruptly—I'm Dan Jiawei, CEO of Lashou. om."

Dan Jiawei introduced himself cautiously, afraid his bold move might offend the other party.

Dan Jiawei?

What does he want with me?

Chen Yan frowned slightly and asked casually: "What can I do for you, Mr. Dan?"

"Mr. Chen, I'd like to ask—does your company's KuaiPao business still need staff?" Dan Jiawei took a deep breath and got straight to the point.

He dared not beat around the bush—though young, Chen Yan was a genuine internet tycoon.

And tycoons generally had little patience.

If they seemed patient, it was an act—he'd worked at Ali, Meituan, and Baidu, and knew exactly what these people were really like behind closed doors.

"Are you unhappy at Baidu?" Chen Yan countered.

"Mr. Li has his own strategic plan, but I'm not part of it," Dan Jiawei's embarrassment flashed across his face as he replied diplomatically.

"The KuaiPao group-buying division needs a head for its business development team—general manager level, pay roughly equivalent to what you earned at Meituan," Chen Yan replied without hesitation.

Currently, both KuaiPao's group-buying and food delivery business development teams were managed by Kou Zhen.

Fine for now, but long-term, problems would arise.

"Thank you, Mr. Chen, for your recognition—I'll work hard," Dan Jiawei's heart raced with gratitude.

"You're a veteran from Ali, understand Meituan and Lashou's operations, and have mature experience in group-buying—I should be thanking you. Welcome aboard, Mr. Dan."

Chen Yan said calmly.

He'd heard the rumors about Dan Jiawei being a "traitor who served three masters," but he dismissed them outright.

It's just a job—he didn't sign a contract of servitude.

99. % of companies don't survive three years, yet they demand employees never switch jobs—isn't that just bullying?

Dan Jiawei excelled at business development; only after he joined Meituan did it climb from seventh or eighth in the market to become the top group-buying company.

After switching to Lashou, he boosted its monthly transaction volume by over 30%, raising its acquisition price from $320 million to $420 million—clear proof of his ability.

No need to condemn a man outright!

In fact, Liu Qiangdong thought similarly—except JD's profitability was weaker, and its offer didn't meet Dan Jiawei's expectations.

"Understood, Mr. Chen," Dan Jiawei replied promptly, not asking for fine details on pay.

Reputation speaks louder than words.

Sequoia Capital's subsidiaries were famous for generous pay—even internet companies that paid overtime at triple the rate wouldn't shortchange him.

Asking too many questions would make him seem petty, lacking vision.

"I'll have Pei Yi discuss the compensation structure with you personally," Chen Yan said—others might not ask, but he had to offer.

Pay well, and people will work hard.

After a brief exchange, Chen Yan hung up, shook his head with a smile, thinking: Li Yanhong really is an idiot—such a good subordinate, and he throws him at me.

But he understood Li Yanhong's thinking—people are divided by closeness; of course, using your own people feels safer.

Chen Yan sometimes did the same—Yuan Wei, Ye Qiuping, and Gao Weilin were his "people" from his past life; Zhang Wenbo, Xiang Pengfei, Zhuang Rui, and Hu Yun were his "people" in this life.

But unlike Li Yanhong, when his "people" failed to meet his standards, he had no hesitation in replacing them with outsiders.

Chen Yan immediately called Pei Yi and briefed him on Dan Jiawei.

"Boss, this guy has a bad reputation," Pei Yi whispered a warning.

"Old Pei, why are you sounding like those fools outside? Who stays at one job forever? Dan Jiawei has top-tier execution—once he joins KuaiPao, he'll bring you entirely new management ideas for ground promotion and organizational structure…"

Chen Yan scolded impatiently.

For example, JD had an invisible "3-5 Rule" in hiring: candidates must have worked for no more than three companies in the past five years, with each tenure averaging over two years—or at least one tenure over three years.

But in practice, if a candidate was strong enough, the "3-5 Rule" could be broken anytime.

Plainly put: rules are tools to constrain the weak, not to limit the strong.

Chen Yan was the boss—he made the rules.

"Boss, could I recommend Zhang Xuhao as head of the group-buying division?" Pei Yi, heart leaping, dared to ask.

He deliberately mentioned Dan Jiawei to test Chen Yan—now that he saw his boss didn't mind frequent job-hopping, he brought up the real matter.

"Did Zhang Xuhao bribe you?" Chen Yan's eyes narrowed slightly as he teased lightly.

After speaking with Zhang Xuhao, I think his management skills aren't bad—he lost to KuaiRun simply because he suffered major disadvantages in funding and traffic.

Pei Yi answered carefully, choosing his words.

Let him start as a regional manager first; we'll know in a year or so whether he has the ability.

Chen Yansen declined Pei Yi's suggestion.

Both Zhang Xuhao and Pei Yi are from Hu Cheng; he needs to balance the internal power factions within the company.

Besides, Zhang Xuhao lost to KuaiRun—that's a fact. Giving him a department head position out of nowhere, how would the staff feel? How could they possibly accept it?

Shan Jiawei got his position as head of the Business Development Department because he built a reputation in the industry; Meituan's ground-pushing army is famous.

But even Shan Jiawei never landed the position of head of group-buying operations. Zhang Xuhao comes in and expects to be dropped straight into a high position? Dream on!

First show us results!

"Understood, boss." Pei Yi's heart skipped—a sudden realization hit him: his recommendation of Zhang Xuhao had overstepped.

After a moment's thought, Pei Yi offered no further explanation.

Some things only get worse the more you try to justify them.

After giving his instructions, Chen Yansen tossed his phone aside and resumed coding the underlying architecture of AuroraFutureOS, planning to adopt a hybrid microkernel design combining the strengths of QNX and L4 microkernels.

The Orange Phone's shipment volume in China rivals ShanXing's; the time is ripe for a proprietary system.

Although the open-source parts of Android can be used free of charge, control rests with Google—who can guarantee Google won't restrict, alter, or change Android's usage rules, licensing terms, or pricing policies for any reason?

Chen Yansen didn't want to build Google's empire for them, and the 2012 timeline was perfect.

Smartphones were still emerging, with shipment volumes far from their peak; entering now, leveraging Orange Tech's market influence, could potentially reverse the mobile OS landscape.

Otherwise, if we wait a few more years after Android and iOS dominate the app ecosystem, changing user habits will become much harder.

The difficulty is like forcing someone who's eaten nothing but vegetarian food their whole life to suddenly switch to meat.

Habits are a powerful force.

Meanwhile.

Outside Meituan's headquarters building, over thirty riders gathered, blocked by security.

"Damn Wang Xin! Come out if you've got guts—I'll smash your head in!"

"You cancel contracts on a whim! Base salary and social insurance gone—still think you can compete with KuaiRun? Pfft!"

"This is disgusting! Brothers, let's go to KuaiRun—they're short-staffed anyway."

The riders, dressed in Meituan delivery uniforms, cursed loudly and chaotically.

The reason was simple: Meituan changed its policies overnight, abolishing the full-time rider system and switching to outsourcing.

All benefits were cut; regular employees became temporary workers—who could accept that?

Wang Xin stood by the window, glanced down, and told Wang Huiwen: "Pay each of them half a month's base salary and send them away."

(End of chapter)