Chapter 335: 30 Billion a Day, Crazy Foreign Capital! 3,000 Ofo Bikes Launched!

November 12, 10:00 a. m.

Huang Zheng, representing Pinbei, was the first to announce the Double Eleven promotional sales figures on Weibo and Toutiao.

The staggering performance of 7.03 billion yuan shocked e-commerce professionals.

After all, to most people, Pinbei was merely an e-commerce platform founded less than two years ago—accurately speaking, its operational duration had been exactly one year and two months.

The characters "7.03 billion" on the battle report were designed in a bold, flashy style.

In addition, there was a poster displaying Pinbei's top 50 store sales ranking.

"Midea Flagship Store: 48,000 orders, average customer spend of 2,680 yuan, sales of 1.3 billion!"

"Metersbonwe Flagship Store: 1.291 million orders, average customer spend of 93 yuan, sales of 1.2 billion!"

"Luolai Flagship Store: 178,000 orders, average customer spend of 617 yuan, sales of 970 million!"

"AUX Flagship Store: 62,000 orders, average customer spend of 1,460 yuan, sales of 910 million!"

"…"

Two brands had single-store sales exceeding one billion yuan, seventeen brands had single-store sales over 500 million yuan, and eighty-six brands had single-store sales over 100 million yuan!

The core purpose of the promotional battle report was to attract merchants to join and draw venture capital attention.

In other words, come to Pinbei, and you'll make money!

…

…

"7.03 billion? How much water is really in that number!"

At JD's headquarters building, Liu Qiangdong stared in disbelief.

This promotion, JD's final sales figure on Double Eleven was 2.36 billion yuan.

He had asked Xu Lei to slightly embellish it to 2.97 billion yuan—clearly intending to tell users and investors that JD was about to enter the tier of daily sales of 3 billion yuan.

But he hadn't expected Chen Yansen to boast even more than he did!

In his estimation, Pinbei's actual transaction volume should have been between 4 and 5 billion yuan.

"I asked several merchants—their actual sales figures were nearly identical to those on the poster," Xu Lei said weakly.

"The top brands' sales figures published by Pinbei were likely pre-coordinated; why would merchants tell the truth? Of course, maybe there's no water—but what about the mid-tier and bottom-tier merchants?"

Liu Qiangdong shook his head with a knowing smile, as if he had seen through it all.

Faking sales volume—how hard could that be?

The platform turns a blind eye, the clerks pretend not to notice, and merchants naturally inflate sales like crazy.

For example, create a lucky bag product link with ten pairs of socks, set the price at 9,999 yuan, stock at 1,000 units; after users receive the goods, they apply for a refund of shipping fees and price difference, and get a full refund—simple as that, you can fake 10 million yuan in sales.

Don't think users won't care about a few pairs of socks—these lucky bag products often sell out instantly the moment they go live.

Besides, underwear, pants, thermos cups, men's shoes, women's shoes, trash bags—all are hot items in users' eyes.

Xu Lei nodded and didn't argue further, but asked cautiously: "Boss, should we change the battle report number to start with a 3?"

"3.97 billion? Too fake! Adding a few hundred million is fine, but adding over a billion will get exposed by third-party data agencies."

Liu Qiangdong shook his head firmly, rejecting Xu Lei's suggestion outright.

"I mean, change it to 3.07 billion—the number looks better," Xu Lei quickly explained.

"Hmm, you decide," Liu Qiangdong paused for a few seconds, then waved his hand.

Adding a few hundred million each time wasn't a big problem.

At least it's better than Tmall and Taobao C-stores, which constantly use 10,000-yuan lucky bags to inflate sales like everyone else can't do it!

Before JD released its promotional battle report, Mama Ali followed closely, releasing a striking performance sheet: total sales of 19.7 billion yuan (Tmall 13.9 billion, Taobao 5.8 billion), a 208.2% year-over-year increase.

Suning, which had originally sold 500 million yuan in sales, had planned to use the battle report to promote its own platform—but upon seeing this, it hastily retracted its draft report, erased all specific figures, and replaced them with vague buzzwords.

After reading Suning's report, you couldn't remember any numbers—all you recalled were words like "surge," "spike," "explosion," "counter-trend high growth," "impressive first-hour results," and "record-breaking peaks."

But if you asked what Suning's Double Eleven sales were?

Sorry, no comment!

"19.7 billion yuan?"

Seeing Mama Ali's report, Liu Qiangdong's mood worsened—he had expected Mama Ali's sales to top out around 8 billion yuan, based on last year's growth trend.

"Boss, should we…" Xu Lei began to ask.

"No need. Keep it at 3.07 billion," Liu Qiangdong resigned himself, speaking weakly.

He couldn't beat Mama Ali, and the gap with Pinbei was growing wider.

If not for OTPP's continued investment enthusiasm, JD's situation would be even more dire.

Could he avoid this exhaustion by abandoning the capital-intensive warehouse and logistics model, and sidestepping Mama Ali and Pinbei's sharp edge?

Liu Qiangdong pondered silently.

But then he thought again and crushed that foolish idea in his mind.

The ruthlessness of commerce rivals the danger of the battlefield!

Would Ma Liyun spare him if JD surrendered?

Even if Ma Liyun stopped chasing JD, Chen Yansen wouldn't show mercy.

In the internet business world, no one matched Chen Yansen in his tendency to settle every score, no matter how small.

The brutal competition in the express delivery industry had shown China's big players Chen Yansen's ruthless side.

SuFeng, YaFeng, SuEr, and AnNeng vanished without a trace; SFTL and QuanFeng were acquired.

Liu Qiangdong knew clearly: if JD didn't advance, it would fall back—it had to push forward despite the odds!

Otherwise, the best outcome would be acquisition; the worst would be becoming another Paipai. com or Yixun. com—either waiting to die, or waiting for some kind soul to come pick up the trash.

Ten minutes later, JD's promotional battle report finally arrived—3.07 billion yuan in sales, cementing its status as the industry's third-place player.

Mama Ali: 19.7 billion Billion Huayuan!

Pinbei: 7.03 billion Billion Huayuan!

Jingdong: 3.07 billion Billion Huayuan!

The three e-commerce giants totaled 29.8 billion Billion Huayuan in one day!

Meanwhile, the China Post Association announced: On November 11, 2012, the total daily volume of business transactions broke one hundred million for the first time!

Suddenly, not only did domestic media explode in outrage, but even across the ocean, the Lamp Nation was stunned.

Three e-commerce websites sold 4.5 billion US dollars in one day?

Too absurd to believe!

At this time, the Lamp Nation was in its Christmas shopping season; from November 1 to November 11, over eleven days, total online spending amounted to only 6 billion US dollars, averaging 500 million US dollars per day.

Yet China's three e-commerce companies achieved 4.5 billion US dollars in transaction volume alone.

Additionally, the daily volume of one hundred million parcels collected shocked their counterparts in Europe and America.

Amazon's CEO Bezos immediately sent a video conference invitation to Amazon's China head; after discussions, the headquarters decided to allocate additional resources and cash to further increase Amazon's market share in China. Under the shock of 30 billion Billion Huayuan in a single day, Bezos had to admit he had underestimated China's e-commerce potential.

On the other side.

Canada's Ontario Teachers' Pension Plan rejoiced wildly; they had invested in Jingdong initially to share in its IPO gains and plug the pension fund shortfall.

Mama Ali, Pinbei, and Jingdong together propelled China's e-commerce industry to a new height.

Investment institutions in North America simultaneously rushed to Asia, seeking equity in the three e-commerce companies—or to facilitate their IPOs and profit from them.

Jingdong Shangcheng's valuation skyrocketed; OTPP immediately resolved to accelerate its second round of financing.

If Jingdong was this strong, Pinbei was even more so.

Gao Weilin sat in his office, fielding calls from morning till night—venture capital firms expressing investment interest, and brokerage firms clamoring to take Pinbei public on Nasdaq.

"I'll value Pinbei at 26 billion US dollars!"

"28 billion!"

"30 billion!"

Citigroup, Merrill Lynch, and Fidelity raced to bid, but Old Gao followed the boss's directive: polite, enthusiastic, but never agree!

He wasn't a fool—he saw clearly these Wall Street top predators all wanted to profit from Pinbei.

How could Chen Yansen let them succeed?

Pinbei accepted Tencent's funding because Little Ma held the two major traffic portals—PC and mobile; bringing in Huake and Huaxin was to raise state-owned capital's equity stake; giving Gao Sheng an opportunity was to prepare for future overseas market expansion.

Therefore, barring unforeseen circumstances, Pinbei would not launch another C-round financing before its IPO.

Overseas capital flooded in!

Ma Liyun originally planned to accelerate the construction of Cainiao Logistics after Double Eleven, but one after another, managers from Nasdaq and the New York Stock Exchange called, proposing cooperation and requesting inspections.

During the Double Eleven promotion, Mama Ali alone captured 20 billion in transaction volume, becoming the darling of capital.

Cai Xin flew back overnight from Hong Kong to Hangcheng's Mama Ali headquarters to finalize plans for the group's IPO.

Pinbei, Mama Ali, and Jingdong were reaping the fruits of Double Eleven, while the express delivery industry was mired in chaos.

Tian Tian Express's Jiangcheng distribution center, under 10,000 square meters, had previously handled a maximum of 300,000 parcels per day; faced with millions of sudden parcels, sorting efficiency plummeted, and for three straight days, it hadn't processed even 10% of its volume.

Express companies like Guotong, Baishi, and Guofeng faced similar situations.

From November 12 to November 13, major platforms synchronously launched "Promotion Comeback" events; in just two days, parcel volume surged another 60 million.

Lost and misdelivered packages occurred frequently; users flooded the market supervision and China Post Association hotlines.

At this point, online shoppers across the country realized that Yunsu Express's turnover, though slowed, remained within acceptable limits.

Moreover, Yunsu Express had deployed 41,000 Yunsu Parcel Lockers across over 30,000 communities nationwide, achieving extremely high last-mile delivery efficiency in intelligent terminal delivery.

Employees of Baishi and Tian Tian could handle at most 100 parcels per day, but Yunsu couriers, using parcel lockers, could easily complete over 500 deliveries daily.

Efficiency was incomparable!

Logistics companies not yet part of the Yunsu Express alliance felt regret, helplessly watching Yunsu and SF Express, alliance members, deposit parcels into the lockers.

Liao Wei's phone never stopped ringing—all calls from CEOs of major express companies—but he was busy coordinating delivery resources and had no time to deal with them, handing them all over to his assistant Zhai An.

Only on November 15 did Yunsu Express's parcel collection return to normal.

Meanwhile, Baishi, Tian Tian, Guotong, and others still faced massive warehouse overflow pressure.

Completely unable to collect parcels!

Yunsu Express's volume rose steadily!

In just three days, it surged from 10 to 12 million pre-promotion daily orders to a staggering 15 million.

Seeing this, Liao Wei immediately hired more staff!

After all, many small express companies were losing large numbers of employees daily.

Yunsu, with its superior compensation, effortlessly recruited over 5,000 new employees.

"That bastard Liao Wei—he steals business and now even steals my staff!"

Xi Chunyang, chairman of Tian Tian Express, raged.

But he had no way to stop Liao Wei!

In fact, Liao Wei hadn't lifted a finger—it was customers who came on their own.

Tian Tian Express had exploded; its transfer hubs and sorting centers were piled high with parcels—no one knew when they'd be cleared.

Senders couldn't wait; Yunsu, the first to resume collection, became customers' top choice.

Even SF Express lost a small portion of its business to Yunsu.

Wang Wei only realized later: when he had visited Yunsu's sorting center, he had secretly mocked Liao Wei for wasting billions on automated sorting equipment.

Now he regretted it!

Although SF Express had begun using basic automated sorting equipment—conveyor belts, cross-belt sorters—the sorting process still relied heavily on manual labor, with low automation levels.

In the entire business process, if even one link is a weak point, it will drag down the speed of the overall express delivery circulation.

"Good things must be copied!"

Wang Wei narrowed his eyes and immediately made the decision.

Unknowingly, Yunsu, an eighteen-line express company from two years ago, had suddenly leaped to the top of the private express delivery companies, becoming the object that SF, Baishi, and other express companies competed to imitate in terms of technology and business ecosystem.

On November 18, after forty-plus days of preparation, the ofo bicycle finally made its appearance at the subway station entrances in Hangcheng.

The first batch deployed 3,000 units!

Painted entirely in a striking orange, featuring an aluminum alloy frame, thickened explosion-proof tires, and an alloy-plated chain, paired with a smart lock and a solar power panel, the bicycle body exuded a strong sense of technology.

If you put the ofo bicycle next to the first-generation Didi bicycle, you could see the latter's overwhelming inferior quality.

You get what you pay for; the manufacturing cost is right there.

The unlocking process was also extremely simple: when a user scanned the QR code on the bicycle with their mobile phone app, the phone would send the unique identification information of that vehicle to the backend.

After confirming the unlock command, the backend server would send an unlock SMS to the SIM card on that bicycle via the cloud.

Immediately after, the bicycle received the SMS, the motor inside the lock would turn accordingly, and the lock would open with a click.

It looked complicated, but in operation, it was far simpler than a mechanical lock, and there was no absurdity of users remembering a specific password to ride for free forever.

The ofo bicycle and the Didi bicycle, one in the south and one in the north, officially ignited the great war in the shared bicycle sector.

At the same time, a company named Kelo, quietly established in Yanjing.

(End of this chapter)