Chapter 344: The Three Titans

On the morning of December 1st, Xiaomi released the Xiao Ai Tongxue software package, allowing users to download it directly from the Xiaomi App Store.

Within just one hour, downloads exceeded 30,000!

Users who had wanted to buy the Mos Smart Speaker but were deterred by its price immediately installed the Xiao Ai Tongxue app.

Despite being limited to one-third of its features due to device and performance constraints, netizens still had a blast using it.

Thus, domestic users didn’t dislike voice assistants—they simply found the Orange C3 and Mos Smart Speaker too expensive to justify spending.

Chen Yansen was certain that once material costs dropped, Orange Tech could launch a 99-yuan smart speaker and easily sell 20 million units in a year.

There’s no product that won’t sell—only a price that won’t work.

Although Xiao Ai Tongxue’s launch impacted Mos Smart Speaker sales, Xiaomi had to pay Orange Tech a patent royalty for every download or installation.

Lei Yi might make money, but Chen Yansen would never lose.

Half an hour later, SF Express announced it would launch “SF Select” on December 3rd, officially entering the e-commerce industry.

Meanwhile, iGuan Data released its November group-buying market report, showing KuaiPao topping the industry with 1.37 billion yuan in monthly transaction volume.

Dazhong Dianping ranked second with 1.12 billion yuan.

To everyone’s shock, Meituan posted only 790 million yuan, slipping to fourth place.

Under Li Yanhong’s direct oversight, Lashou.com leveraged Baidu Maps, search engine, and Tieba traffic to lift its transaction volume from 650 million to 860 million yuan.

Six months later, Lashou.com reclaimed its place among the top three in the market.

KuaiPao’s momentum grew stronger, while Meituan declined—its food delivery business failed to take off, and its group-buying business couldn’t hold its ground.

Zhang Tao of Dazhong Dianping, upon reading the report, wanted to immediately tweet @Wang Xin and mock him mercilessly.

With Meituan’s current state, who does it think it is, trying to be the boss?

Go look in the mirror first!

But he wasn’t happy for five minutes—his expression darkened. KuaiPao’s growth was astonishing; how had it reached number one in just a few months?

In funding, manpower, technology, and product quality, Dazhong Dianping was inferior to KuaiPao.

Meituan was failing, but Dazhong Dianping couldn’t beat KuaiPao either!

Lashou.com was right behind, closing in fast!

Next month, Dazhong Dianping might lose even its second-place ranking.

On the other side, Wang Xin, upon learning Aili had entered the food delivery sector and facing the blow to group-buying, sank into despair.

November was peak e-commerce season, so group-buying output naturally fluctuated—he assumed 790 million yuan would still place Meituan first or second, but he never expected this.

Meituan was the only one with negative growth; KuaiPao and Lashou.com had both surged ahead.

That afternoon, news broke that Jia Nai Liang and Li Xiaolu had married, and LeTV even hosted a live stream for it.

After all, Jia Nai Liang was a shareholder of LeTV Pictures—the more users and revenue LeTV had, the more he earned.

Chen Yansen sat in his office, glancing at the news, and smiled faintly as he shook his head.

In 2012, “Wo Long Feng Chui” and “zuo toufa” were ordinary phrases—but over a decade later, they became unbearable to hear.

“Ding ling ling—!”

Suddenly, the desk phone rang.

Chen Yansen picked up the receiver, and the speaker emitted Tian Tian’s voice from the first-floor front desk: “Boss, Yu Zong from Huawei has arrived.”

“Have Zhou Shouzhi receive him. I’ll come down in a bit.”

Chen Yansen replied.

Yu Chendong’s visit to Xu City was solely to secure patent licensing for the Yuxi development tools—Zhou Shouzhi could handle it.

“Got it, boss,” Tian Tian responded immediately.

Chen Yansen placed the receiver back, not giving Yu Chendong’s arrival much thought.

He wasn’t Ren Zhongfei—he didn’t need to rush downstairs to greet him.

As Zhou Shouzhi negotiated patent licensing with Yu Chendong, Wang Xin countered on Weibo: “iGuan Data’s industry report contains massive data discrepancies.”

Implicitly, he claimed Meituan’s actual transaction volume far exceeded 790 million yuan.

Three minutes later, Dazhong Dianping’s CEO Zhang Tao posted on his personal account in support of iGuan Data: “I don’t know about other sites, but Dazhong Dianping’s data is accurate.”

Instantly, Meituan and Wang Xin were thrust into the spotlight.

Pei Yi, seeing this, smirked and immediately chimed in: “Thanks to iGuan Data for supporting the group-buying industry.”

Though unstated, he acknowledged iGuan Data’s authority.

Gong Zhenbing of Lashou.com followed, sarcastically remarking: “When Meituan was number one, the data was accurate; now that it’s fourth, suddenly it’s not!”

Lately, Lashou and Meituan’s ground staff had frequently clashed and even fought—Gong Zhenbing despised Wang Xin and wouldn’t miss a chance to strike while the iron was hot.

Netizens weren’t fools; once pointed out, they instantly understood Wang Xin’s hidden motive—he simply refused to admit defeat.

For users, KuaiPao offered the best experience in group-buying apps; Meituan, Lashou, and Dazhong Dianping constantly delivered bizarre issues.

Either, upon arriving at the store, the owner claimed the group-buying deal was canceled;

Or the location was fake—customers arrived to find the shop didn’t exist at all.

Users had little patience; most would uninstall the app after just one bad experience.

In product quality, service, and after-sales, Meituan, Lashou, and Dazhong Dianping were no match.

KuaiPao’s mid- and upper-level managers didn’t just oversee delivery—they also took shifts in customer service, thoroughly understanding user problems and how to solve them.

Wang Xin, Zhang Tao, and others still treated customer service emails superficially.

They tightly managed merchants but remained clueless about user-side realities.

In short—they weren’t grounded enough.

Only when deep night fell and cold moonlight reflected on the glass windows did Chen Yansen shut his computer and step out.

Zhou Shouzhi, Ye Qiuping, and Yu Chendong were still waiting downstairs—he had to show up for the evening banquet.

“Ding!”

The elevator doors slowly opened.

As Chen Yansen stepped into the first-floor lobby, he saw Zhou Shouzhi and Yu Chendong exiting a meeting room beside the lounge.

“Chen Zong, long time no see—you’ve grown even taller, handsomer than last time,” Yu Chendong stepped forward with a beaming smile.

Chen Yansen grimaced inwardly: Yu Damouth’s flattery was stiff, awkward, and utterly tasteless.

“Yu Zong loves to joke—what’s the perfect score?” Chen Yansen shook Yu Chendong’s hand, teasing.

“Must be out of ten.”

Yu Chendong replied, squinting.

Huawei could certainly develop its own intelligent interaction engine system—but its performance and market appeal would be questionable.

Each profession has its expertise!

Huawei’s strength in telecommunications didn’t mean it could produce a superior voice recognition product.

In fact, over a decade later, Huawei released an intelligent voice assistant called “Xiao Yi (Xiao e),” but it received little attention—even less than 360’s voice assistant.

“Yu Zong rarely visits Xu City—tonight’s the first banquet, and there’s a second one tomorrow,” Chen Yansen warmly invited.

“Work comes first—let’s sign the contract first,” Yu Chendong grinned.

He smiled outwardly but remained inwardly calm.

He saw clearly: Chen Yansen’s warmth was superficial, not genuine.

“Boss, Yu Zong, please,” their driver pulled up to the entrance, and Zhou Shouzhi gestured.

Ye Qiuping, having received word, hurried over as well.

The group split into four cars and slowly drove out of the tech park, heading toward the Sky Garden.

Inside the car, Yu Chendong’s smile faded, replaced by a cold glint in his eyes.

His earlier doubts dissolved instantly after speaking with Zhou Shouzhi.

Orange Tech’s licensing fee for Yuxi development tools: a one-time patent fee of 20 million yuan, plus an additional 2 yuan per download or installation.

Honestly, the royalty rate wasn’t high.

But the entry fee was 20 million yuan!

Whether Huawei could independently develop a semantic core or not, it still had to pay 20 million yuan.

Yu Chendong spent the entire ride pondering the strategic importance of an intelligent voice assistant for Huawei phones.

Finally, he thought: Could Huawei really afford to be the only major brand without one, when 360, NetEase, and Aili Cloud phones already had them?

An intelligent voice assistant might not boost Huawei’s performance—but lacking one while competitors had it would become a disadvantage.

Yu Chendong reasoned: Huawei was already behind Xiaomi—it couldn’t fall even further behind Coolpad, Lenovo, or ZTE.

At the banquet, glasses clinked, and everyone quickly grew flushed from alcohol.

After careful thought, Yu Chendong decided at the table to sign the licensing agreement at Orange Tech’s headquarters the next day.

As for the 20 million yuan—it was pocket change to Huawei.

Chen Yansen leaned back in his chair, a faint smile on his face, letting Zhou Shouzhi and Yu Chendong negotiate the details.

Ye Qiuping sat beside him, her soft hand constantly gliding along the edge of Chen Zong’s thigh.

“Behave,” Chen Yansen slapped her lightly, whispering a warning.

Ye Qiuping winced, pouted, and instinctively rubbed her rear.

Outside, the night was deep, lights glittering—just like Ye Qiuping’s sparkling eyes.

…

…

At 8:30 p.m. that evening, a Hunan TV interview program, upon airing, immediately surged to trending top.

“Ten bald men, nine millionaires! Why do all the big shots shave their heads?”

“Ali Baba’s CEO Ma Liyun made his first public appearance with a shaved head.”

“Ma Liyun shaved his head because he has seen through the illusions of the world and plans to become a monk!”

When netizens saw Ma Liyun’s bald photo, they immediately lost it.

A few clever commenters made up nonsense: “Ma Liyun shaved his head because he lost a bet with Chen Yan. Supposedly, when Chen Yan invested in KuaiPao, he claimed KuaiPao could become the industry leader, but Ma Liyun didn’t believe him! So they wagered their hair—loser shaves his head.”

In reality, KuaiPao hadn’t even entered the group-buying industry when it received Ali’s funding—this story was utterly baseless, yet most netizens believed it.

After all, the guy told it with such vivid detail and dragged in business collaboration.

“If Chen Yan had lost, I can’t even imagine what he’d look like bald.”

“He’d definitely look better than Ma Liyun!”

“Obviously! Ma Liyun never walked the looks route—he won purely with money.”

“Guys, here’s the pic! I Photoshopped a bald version of Chen Zong—@Chen Yan, hope you don’t mind?”

“Saved it! Delete it fast! Watch out for Senlian Capital’s lawyer letter!”

Shortly after, a curious netizen combined bald photos of Ma Liyun and Chen Yan—the popularity exploded instantly.

While Chen Yan was still at a business dinner, Weibo’s servers crashed.

The culprit? A single Photoshopped photo!

Chen Yan and Ma Liyun stared directly at each other, both sporting bald heads—hilarious to behold.

“This thing actually crashed Weibo’s servers?”

Liu Qiangdong looked utterly speechless.

But he was dying to join in—though the two had been mocked, as founders of Ali and Pinbei, this trending topic brought massive traffic to their products.

Should Liu Qiangdong follow the trend and shave his head too?

Before he could decide, netizens made the choice for him—they took one of his photos, Photoshopped it bald, and placed it alongside Ma Liyun’s and Chen Yan’s.

When Weibo’s traffic returned to normal, Liu Qiangdong was stunned to find himself and JD trending too.

The good news? He finally got his share of the traffic.

The bad news? Someone boldly lied, claiming Liu Qiangdong’s bald photo was the ugliest.

Furious, Liu Qiangdong cursed: “What the hell, am I not even second?”

…

…

In Xucheng, outside the Sky Garden Hotel.

Chen Yan waved goodbye to Yu Chendong, then slid into the back seat of the Ghost.

“Boss, you’re trending,” Ye Qiuping bit her lip, barely holding back a mischievous grin.

“Trending? I didn’t post anything on Weibo today.”

As he spoke, Chen Yan pulled out his phone.

Opening Weibo, the top search term was “Top Three E-commerce Giants’ Bald Photos.”

Chen Yan raised an eyebrow, glanced at Ye Qiuping, then clicked in.

There he was, sitting side by side with Ma Liyun and Liu Qiangdong—bodies normal, but where the hell was his hair?

Chen Yan’s face turned dark, torn between laughter and frustration.

“Boss, should Brand and Legal Departments step in?” Ye Qiuping covered her mouth, smiling faintly as she probed.

“Nah, I’m not losing anything. This kind of joke—I can take it.”

Chen Yan firmly rejected Ye Qiuping’s suggestion.

Ma Liyun and Liu Qiangdong felt the same—Old Ma shaved his head to celebrate successfully completing the equity buyback, to start fresh, symbolizing Ali Baba’s rebirth.

But free traffic? Why not take it?

So when the three bald photos spread across every corner of the internet, no lawyer letters ever came from Pinbei, Ali, or JD.

In the following days, heads of NetEase’s Ding Lei, OPPO’s Chen Yongming, Meizu’s Huang Zhang, Coolpad, ZTE, and other phone manufacturers either reached out online or visited in person—all with the same goal: to license the Yuxi development tool patents.

On December 3, a black Maybach with Beijing plates, flanked by two Audis, drove into Zhuxianzhuang Tech Park.

Is this where Pinbei is?

Liu Qiangdong rolled down his window, gazing at the surroundings, and gave a bitter smile—he’d lost too badly.

In terms of tech and talent reserves, how could Xucheng possibly compare to Yancheng?

As the car turned at the intersection, he saw Chen Yan ahead, smiling at him.

(End of Chapter)