Chapter 311: Aren

The second day back in Xucheng happened to be Saturday; the tech park was eerily quiet, with fewer than a third of employees working overtime.

Chen Yansen parked his car, took the elevator to the top floor, then pushed open the office door.

On the desk sat a money tree, thriving toward the sunlight, lush and green.

He turned on the computer and logged into the data backend.

Chen Yansen first reviewed Pianbei’s core metrics; thanks to QQ and WeChat as primary traffic entry points, along with traffic diversion from the Orange App Store, Lingxi Browser, and Toutiao, daily active users and daily sales were steadily increasing, with last week’s average daily transaction volume reaching 900 million yuan.

Nearly double that of JD.com!

Food, home goods, women’s apparel, and cosmetics formed the first-tier categories; digital appliances, outdoor sports, maternal and infant products, and underwear made up the second tier; men’s clothing, footwear, entertainment and automotive products, and luggage accounted for the smallest share.

From this category structure, it was clear Pianbei’s user base was predominantly female.

Domestically, Orange phones had surpassed Shanxing in shipment volume; according to iResearch estimates, if Shanxing failed to boost sales in Q4, it would lose its top spot on the smartphone sales leaderboard.

The Orange F1, priced at $99, and the Orange F3, priced at $399, were wildly popular in Nigeria and Abyssinia—the former targeting the low-end market, the latter the high-end, directly competing for customers of Shanxing’s Galaxy series, Apple 4S, and Apple 5.

Combined with Orange F2 and Lemon D1 sales, weekly volume reached 150,000 to 160,000 units.

Thus, Cao Dahua had to expand training for after-sales technicians, dispatching them not only to East Africa but also preparing for Eastern European and domestic offline retail stores.

Alexa smart speakers saw steady sales in Europe and America, hovering around 20,000 units daily—seemingly modest, but Mos smart speakers sold only 6,000 units nationwide per day in China.

The marketing department’s annual sales forecast: 8 million Alexa units, 2.4 million Mos units, totaling just over 10 million.

Chen Yansen knew internally that the smart speaker market’s ceiling would rise steadily over the next few years, peaking at 200 million units annually before gradually declining.

Yet, limited by network infrastructure, economic conditions, app ecosystems, and sales channels, selling 10 million units in 2012 was already an outstanding achievement.

Ten minutes later, Chen Yansen shut down the data backend and opened his email.

The first email was an industry report from Forrest Research, detailing pricing structures of major U.S. carriers and the development of the short-video sector.

Chen Yansen glanced at it, slightly startled—the U.S. telecom operators were just as aggressive as China Mobile, China Unicom, and China Telecom in setting mobile data pricing.

They implemented both tiered pricing and unlimited plans; pricing varied significantly between carriers depending on network coverage.

Data costs ranged from $7.5 to $20 per GB—the higher the price, the faster the speed; the lower, the slower.

As a result, most U.S. mobile users opted for unlimited data plans, paying more upfront to avoid massive overage bills.

For example, T-Mobile’s Unlimited 4G plan cost at least $70 per month, including unlimited voice, SMS, and data.

Its advantage was affordability; its drawback was slower speeds and narrower coverage.

Sprint’s Everything Data plan cost $109.90 monthly, also offering unlimited voice, SMS, and data, but secretly throttled speeds for heavy users.

MetroPCS’s 4G LTE for All plan offered unlimited voice, SMS, and 4G data for just $55 monthly, but currently covered only 14 cities.

Overall, U.S. mobile speeds were in transition from 3G to 4G LTE; 4G was still emerging, while 3G retained over 70% market share, with average download speeds of 5 to 20 Mbps.

“At least short-video apps had some breathing room.”

Chen Yansen silently assessed.

In fact, his judgment was correct: U.S. smartphone penetration was around 50%, and 4G was rapidly expanding, providing the hardware foundation for short-video creation and distribution.

As early as January, Vine, the pioneer of short video, had already launched.

Although Instagram hadn’t yet integrated video-sharing features, Forrest Research’s analysis indicated it had definitely begun R&D on short-video functionality.

Clearly, U.S. internet professionals had already set their sights on the short-video sector, though they had not yet clarified recommendation algorithms or monetization models.

Chen Yansen leaned back, mentally mapping out his strategy for the North American market.

There was no choice: launching a short-video app domestically would require at least two more years of waiting; better to start overseas, leveraging European and American user data to optimize recommendation engines and accumulate user resources early.

Once the timing was right, he’d enter the domestic short-video arena.

Who should handle the overseas market?

Liang Bo?

Could he do it?

Chen Yansen muttered under his breath.

Liang Bo had solid technical skills, but in business expansion, he was merely average—no major mistakes, but no standout strategies either.

As for Zhou Shouzhi, he still needed to expand smartphone markets in Europe and the Americas.

For a moment, Chen Yansen hesitated—should he assign Zhou Shouzhi dual duties or find someone new?

Given his management style, hiring another person was clearly preferable.

Thinking this, Chen Yansen picked up the phone and dialed Liang Bo’s number: “Come to my office.”

“Yes, boss,” Liang Bo replied.

Soon after, Liang Bo arrived, sat down, and Chen Yansen said calmly: “I sent you an industry report. Read it first, then we’ll talk.”

After speaking, Chen Yansen got up to fetch tea leaves and slowly brewed a pot.

Standing by the window, he looked down: the outdoor parking lot was packed with luxury cars—mainly Mercedes, BMW, and Audi, with Porsche, Maserati, and Ferrari also present—mostly the vehicles of managers, directors, and general managers of Pianbei and Orange Tech.

After a long while, Liang Bo finally spoke: “Boss, I’ve finished reading.”

The report, excluding images, contained over 20,000 words of English text.

Liang Bo had read it meticulously, fearing misinterpretation.

“What if we combine the recommendation engine algorithm with short video and build a standalone product?”

Chen Yansen asked casually, sipping his tea.

“Targeting Europe and America?” Liang Bo ventured.

He hadn’t even considered the domestic market—hardware and network conditions there were too poor; short video there was a dead end.

Take Toutiao: it had a video module, but less than 1% of users loaded videos via mobile data; the rest used Wi-Fi.

The core reason: mobile data was too expensive!

“You’re in charge of R&D—I’ll send you a product development document,” Chen Yansen replied, not answering directly but assigning the task outright.

Liang Bo didn’t hesitate and immediately agreed.

After receiving the new task, Liang Bo asked a few more questions; only after clarifying Chen Yansen’s product requirements did he rise to leave.

Chen Yansen paused, created a new file on his computer, listed the required skills for the short-video lead, then sent it to HR.

If he could find a satisfactory candidate, great; if not, Zhou Shouzhi would temporarily take over.

The morning passed quickly; Chen Yansen ate lunch in the cafeteria, then drove toward Xuyuan.

Meanwhile, Yunsu Express, after integrating Shentong and Yuantong Express resources, began opening Yunsu Service Stations across rural townships and centers in East China.

Its core services were two: package pickup and parcel pickup-on-behalf.

Because delivery costs in rural markets were too high, buyers previously on Taobao, JD, and Pianbei received goods only up to county-level courier points; retrieving packages required traveling dozens, even hundreds of kilometers.

With Yunsu Service Stations, online shoppers in townships, villages, and rural areas were now included in the service scope.

Liao Wei ensured profitability: every Yunsu Service Station underwent strict market research, evaluating local population, transportation, and market potential; only those meeting minimum revenue projections were approved.

Though conditions were strict, the rural market was enormous—over 600 townships were initially screened, and 200 were selected as pilot sites.

…

…

Chunshen, Shao Bei Town.

Opposite Shao Bei Middle School, to the left of Nongmu Bank, a new Yunsu Express Service Station had opened.

Perhaps in ten or more years, every township of similar size would have at least a dozen such stations.

But in 2012, Yunsu was the first courier company to extend operations into rural markets.

E-commerce parcels from two nearby communities and twelve administrative villages, upon arrival in Shao Bei Town, all ended up at this Yunsu Service Station.

In other words, the mailing needs of over 60,000 residents in Shao Bei were also within the station’s operational scope.

Wu Lei was the station manager, a local resident; besides him, there was one other staff member—that was the standard staffing for a service station.

“Boss Wu, the company’s bet on opening stations in townships might be wrong—I just stood by the door and watched. Out of ten passersby, only one had a smartphone,” said Hu Peng, another employee, pulling up a chair and sighing.

“What’s there to fear? We’ve base salary!” Wu Lei pulled out a stack of posters from the warehouse and told Hu Peng: “Help me stick these up.”

“Base salary’s only 3,000 yuan—won’t starve, but won’t get fat either. Ah, why did I end up here? I used to work for Yuantong Express.”

Hu Peng grumbled as he worked.

Implicitly: the service station had no profit potential; Yunsu’s veteran staff wouldn’t take the job, so they’d assigned him, a newly absorbed employee.

“Little Hu, listen to me—stick with the company, you won’t regret it! This project was planned by the boss himself—do you think he’d lose money?” Wu Lei stopped working, his expression serious.

“Chen Yansen, Chen Zong?” Hu Peng asked eagerly, then shook his head doubtfully: “How could you possibly know him?”

“Damn it! Who are you looking down on? I’ve worked at Yunsu for two and a half years—I’m a veteran! Last year, I even had dinner with the boss at a five-star hotel in Shanghai.”

Wu Lei scowled.

“I thought you were just a loser from Shentong Express,” Hu Peng chuckled, unconcerned.

In his view, Wu Lei was probably bragging—why leave Shanghai’s courier business to come back home? That was idiotic.

Seeing Hu Peng didn’t believe him, Wu Lei stopped explaining and focused on his work.

Hu Peng talked a lot but worked quickly; soon they’d stuck all the promotional posters on the glass door.

“Orange D1 phone: 512MB + 1GB RAM, 799 yuan!”

“Qingcheng D1S phone: 1GB + 8GB RAM, 999 yuan!”

“Yunsu Express pickup: starting at just 6 yuan!”

“Don’t worry about delivery—use Yunsu Service Station as your shipping address, free pickup!”

“Pianbei Mall: new users get 6 free eggs!”

In Liao Wei’s vision, Yunsu Service Stations could not only collect parcels from Baishi, SF Express, TianTian, Guotong, and others, earning “delivery fees,” but also boost profits through pickup services.

They’d also sell Orange Tech smartphones and promote Pianbei Mall.

At that moment, an elderly man coming to the market stopped dead upon seeing the “free eggs” poster and asked Wu Lei: “Young man, where do I get the eggs?”

“Sir, do you have a smartphone? First download the Pinbei app—new users can get free eggs, plus free tissue, apples, and oranges.” Wu Lei grinned at the opportunity and warmly stepped forward.

“Smartphone? Will this one do?” The old man pulled out his Nokia C102.

“This won’t work,” Wu Lei waved his hand.

“Do you have a smartphone? Can you help me install it?” The old man took the initiative.

Hu Peng stood behind him and couldn’t help laughing. He explained, “Sir, you need to buy a 799-yuan smartphone first.”

“Tch! So you’re two frauds.” The old man frowned, looked disgusted, and walked away.

“Hahahaha…” After the old man left, Hu Peng burst into laughter.

Wu Lei’s face darkened as he sighed.

“Qingcheng D1S phone? Is this genuine?”

Soon after, another customer walked in—a young man in his early twenties.

Wu Lei smiled inwardly and stepped forward again. “Yunsu Express and Orange Tech have the same boss—we’re just authorized resellers. The products are 100% genuine, with official after-sales service. You can check online.”

“No need. Give me one.” The young man fell silent for over ten seconds, then suddenly spoke.

He’d long wanted to buy a Qingcheng D1S phone, but previously, express delivery only reached Chunshen—he’d have to drive over an hour to the county town, so he’d put it off.

As for whether it was real or fake, he wasn’t worried.

If they dared sell fakes, he could easily gather a few relatives and beat Wu Lei and Hu Peng into begging for mercy.

Hu Peng blinked in surprise, then quickly reacted, rushing behind the counter to fetch a brand-new Qingcheng D1S phone.

“Want to download Pinbei? You can get free eggs too,” Wu Lei pushed the offer.

“My phone plan only gives me 100MB of data per month—I’ve used it all up,” the young man declined.

“You don’t know how to connect to our store’s Wi-Fi? I’ll teach you.” Getting one new Pinbei user earned the company an 8-yuan reward; Wu Lei offered with natural, enthusiastic sincerity.

Ten minutes later, Wu Lei helped the young man complete his first online purchase. As the young man left, Wu Lei added, “If you have any questions, come find me anytime.”

In the end, on the first day of opening, they didn’t pick up a single parcel—but sold thirteen Orange D1 phones and eleven Qingcheng D1S phones.

“Lei Ge, aren’t we a courier station? How’d we turn into a phone specialty shop?” Hu Peng asked, baffled.

(End of Chapter)