Chapter 363: Internet

What Chen Yansen hadn’t expected was that as soon as he arrived at the hotel, Zhou Hongyi called him.

“Chen Zong, it’s old Zhou. Heard you’re in Yancheng? Tonight, Jingzhao Yin, I’m treating you to a welcome dinner.”

Zhou Hongyi spoke with familiar ease, arranging it all with great enthusiasm.

As if he’d already forgotten how arrogant he’d been the first time they met.

“How about tomorrow night? Zhang Zong from Sohu invited me to a bar.” Chen Yansen sat on the sofa, a pair of small hands resting gently on his shoulders and neck, massaging softly.

“Old Zhang? I know him well—come along?” Zhou Hongyi chuckled.

“And Leiyi Army too,” Chen Yansen added.

“Then forget it. Jingzhao Yin at seven tomorrow night.” Zhou Hongyi’s laughter cut off instantly, and he ended the call.

“I still remember, two years ago when I came to Yancheng on business with you, this Zhou Zong kept calling Lei Zong ‘Big Brother.’”

Song Yuncheng smiled faintly, unable to help but sigh.

“Get used to it—there are no friends in business. When Zhou Hongyi stops making phones, or Lei Zong stops making phones, and their interests no longer clash, they’ll be good friends again.”

Chen Yansen leaned back, signaling Song Yuncheng to keep going.

The girl’s soft hands had little strength, but they felt wonderful to Chen Zong.

As she massaged, Song Yuncheng asked: “Is Zhang Zhaoyang your friend then?”

“For now, maybe. Who knows what the future holds?” Chen Yansen shrugged, unconcerned.

Through the glass curtain wall over three meters tall, they overlooked the entire Chaoyang District; outside, a white expanse stretched out, snow still clinging to the rooftops from days ago.

“We’ve scheduled the Dialogue program for tomorrow at 9:30 a.m. The drive from the hotel to the TV station takes fifteen minutes—we’ll leave at nine.”

Song Yuncheng whispered a reminder.

“With your abilities, being Head of Big Clients at Pinbei is a waste. How about becoming my secretary?”

Chen Yansen closed his eyes, releasing his spiritual sense to scan the surroundings; once he confirmed no anomalies, he transformed it into a black hole form.

“Being a secretary won’t help you make money,” Song Yuncheng smiled.

“You’re the one who wants to make money,” Chen Yansen retorted.

He knew Song Yuncheng was a little money addict—she’d saved over five million in the past two years, but aside from buying medicine for her brother, her biggest expense was buying Chen Zong a Patek Philippe watch worth over three hundred thousand, while she herself wouldn’t spend a single extra cent.

“Hehe,” Song Yuncheng squinted, her eyes curving into crescents, her smile warm as spring, even spilling beyond the curve of her lips.

“Xiaohongshu needs a Head of Commercialization. If you’re interested, I’ll save the position for you.”

Chen Yansen said casually.

“To Shanghai?” Song Yuncheng asked.

“Mm.” Chen Yansen replied.

“Then I won’t go,” Song Yuncheng shook her head.

“Why? Don’t you want to make money?” Chen Yansen countered.

“I want money, but I want you too,” Song Yuncheng leaned down, pressing close to Chen Zong’s ear.

“That’s my line to say,” Chen Yansen frowned slightly, displeased.

Song Yuncheng was becoming more and more like him—decisive, swift in action, managing over forty people, including sales staff from 3A ad agencies and channel operators from Ali, JD, or SA-tier brands—all of them obedient under her command.

In ability and tactics, she was no less than the business directors of top-tier internet giants.

After all, she was trained by Chen Zong himself—her ceiling was unknown, but her floor was guaranteed.

“Then what do we do? I’ve said everything,” Song Yuncheng asked with a smile.

“Stand in front,” Chen Yansen ordered.

Song Yuncheng knew what he wanted; her cheeks flushed pink, and she obediently bent over.

“Smack!”

Chen Yansen’s slap rang out crisp and loud.

He stared at Song Yuncheng, thinking inwardly: Meng Jie is too young, Ye Master is too flirtatious, but Little Orange here is just right—diligent and hardworking.

“What are we eating tonight?” Song Yuncheng, having taken the slap, turned and asked.

“Back to that snack street we went to last time—I saw how much you liked it.” Chen Yansen pulled Song Yuncheng’s hand backward, and she tumbled into his arms.

“Great,” Song Yuncheng felt warmth in her chest—she hadn’t expected Chen Yansen to remember so clearly.

Meanwhile.

The CEOs of local internet companies in Yancheng gradually received word that Chen Yansen had arrived.

Compared to last year, Chen Yansen’s momentum this year was even greater.

Pinbei surpassed JD’s annual sales, ranking second in e-commerce with a staggering 317.4 billion yuan.

Orange Phone’s global shipments reached 50.1 million units, placing sixth, crushing Huawei, TCL, and BlackBerry, while also leading domestically in smartphone shipments.

Orange Pay had over 30 million daily active users and owned the nation’s first currency fund exceeding 100 billion yuan.

Products like Kuai Dache, Kuai Pao, Gaode Map, and Toutiao were all leaders in their respective fields.

Since the Yancheng Internet Conference ended, media had changed “BAT” to “BATs”—clearly, to most people, Chen Yansen’s wealth and industry influence were no less than Li Yan’s, Ma Wenteng’s, and Ma Liyun’s.

Many called Zhang Zhaoyang, asking him to act as a go-between, organize a dinner, and establish contact with Chen Yansen for deeper cooperation.

Even Wang Xin was tempted—in his view, merging with Dazhong Dianping was worse than merging with Kuai Pao.

Strength always joins strength; who ever teams up with the weak to fight the strong?

“Xin Ge, you want to sell your company?” Wang Huiwen asked.

“Sell? Not quite. I’d rather use Meituan as leverage to join Senlian Capital.”

Wang Xin gave a bitter smile, speaking lightly.

In the past six months of direct competition with Kuai Pao, Meituan had suffered repeated blows—he’d been utterly crushed by Pei Yi.

Afterward, he’d reflected repeatedly and concluded his own abilities weren’t the issue—it was resources and capital he lacked.

Kuai Pao had no shortage of money, traffic, or talent.

All they needed was to focus on growth!

The exposure and traffic he craved, Pei Yi could get effortlessly—Orange App Store, Pinbei, Gaode—all channeled traffic to Kuai Pao nonstop.

What could Meituan use to compete? What could it fight with?

Damn it, the opponent was cheating!

“I don’t oppose it, but I worry Chen Yansen might not be interested in Meituan,” Wang Huiwen warned.

Kuai Pao’s core businesses are food delivery and group buying—the former holds 80% market share, the latter, built on Nuomi’s foundation, has firmly secured first place in the industry within half a year.

Why would Senlian Capital acquire Meituan?

Just to eliminate a competitor?

The difficulty would be extremely high!

“Let’s try. Maybe Chen Yansen thinks differently from ordinary people,” Wang Xin joked, a flicker of worry in his eyes.

Wang Huiwen understood this—he knew it too.

But Kuai Pao and Lashou had crushed Meituan with unbearable pressure; two and a half years of losses had exhausted investor patience. Sequoia’s Shen Nanpeng had clearly told him: if he wanted funding, he must merge with Dazhong Dianping—otherwise, forget it.

Ali’s stance was ambiguous, clearly leaning toward Kuai Pao.

Though Alibaba held only 4% of Kuai Pao’s equity, its value far exceeded Alibaba’s stake in Meituan.

Ask Ma Liyun to fund his own competitor?

Impossible!

Unless Alibaba immediately went public and, with ample resources, Ma Liyun—holding a “cultivate the strongest” mindset—might invest more in Meituan. But right now, Ma Liyun had just launched Cainiao Logistics and spent over two billion yuan—where would he find spare cash to waste on Wang Xin?

“I’ll call Zhang Zong,” Wang Huiwen said, trying her luck, pulling out her phone and scrolling through contacts until she dialed Zhang Zhaoyang.

“Dial… dial… dial…”

Wang Huiwen turned on speaker.

“Hello, who is this?” Zhang Zhaoyang frowned, barely suppressing the urge to curse—he’d fielded dozens of calls this afternoon, all circling around to ask about Chen Yansen, driving him mad.

“Mr. Zhang, this is Wang Huiwen from Meituan. I’d like to ask a favor…” Wang Huiwen introduced herself.

But before he finished speaking, Zhang Zhaoyang cut in: “Sorry, Wang Zong, if you want to meet Chen Yansen, contact him directly—I won’t be a middleman.”

Wang Huiwen opened his mouth, frozen in place.

“Mr. Zhang, this is Wang Xin from Meituan. I want to sell my company to Chen Yansen—I hope you can pass along a message.”

Wang Xin interjected.

With his connections, he could get Pei Yi’s number—but not Chen Yansen’s personal phone.

Meituan might sound famous, but its annual GMV was only 10.3 billion yuan—nowhere near Kuai Pao, let alone Senlian Capital.

Sell the company to Chen Yansen?

Zhang Zhaoyang paused, startled. He knew Meituan and Kuai Pao were rivals, but he hadn’t expected Wang Xin to be so broken by Chen Yansen’s pressure that he’d immediately offer to sell.

“Alright, I understand,” Zhang Zhaoyang didn’t flatly refuse—just passing a message was simple enough.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhang. I’ll treat you to drinks later,” Wang Xin bowed politely.

“We’ll see,” Zhang Zhaoyang replied vaguely, then hung up.

He liked drinking, yes—but only with the right people. Not everyone deserved a seat at his table.

On the other side.

Ding Lei, Liu Qiangdong, and Lei Zong stared at each other.

“What are you all standing around for?” Zhang Zhaoyang put down his phone, glancing at the three dazed men, instinctively urging them.

“So many people want to meet Chen Yansen,” Ding Lei muttered, realizing for the first time Chen Yansen’s stature in the industry.

“I heard Apple’s Asia Regional General Manager, Ge Yue, visited Xucheng a few days ago,” Lei Zong said softly, voice tinged with envy, his eyes nearly overflowing with admiration.

I understand this—Apple plans to join Pinbei and has purchased the architecture license for Orange Z1.

Ding Lei volunteered the information.

Join Pinbei?

Jingdong is the exclusive platform for digital electronics and home appliances!

What does Ge Yue mean by skipping Jingdong?

Liu Qiangdong’s face flushed alternately pale and red, his displeasure plainly written on it.

“How do you know this?” Lei Yi Army asked curiously.

“Orange Tech developed a brand-new mobile OS called AuroraFutureOS. Chen Yan wants me to help develop NetEase’s AFOS version—he sent me the open-source code and development tools for the Aurora Future System, so I’ve had a few extra chats with him these past days. Hey, MiChat has a big user base too—didn’t he approach you?”

As Ding Lei spoke, he gave Lei Yi Army a suspicious look.

“Oh, you mean that? Xiaomi is developing a MiChat AFOS version—just supporting a domestic mobile OS.”

Lei Yi Army pretended to suddenly understand, smiling lightly.

“Same as my thinking,” Ding Lei nodded in agreement.

Zhang Chaoyang silently sneered, thinking: If Orange Tech weren’t willing to provide manufacturing and supply chain services for NetEase and Xiaomi phones, would you two be so cooperative?

Precisely because he saw through it all, Old Zhang was deeply annoyed.

The four of them ate dinner slowly, until.

After getting in the car, Zhang Chaoyang thought for a moment and called his younger brother: “Xiao Chuan, Yunku Bar at 7:30—I’ll introduce you to a new friend.”

“Bro, I’ve got two product meetings tonight,” Wang XiaoChuan declined politely.

Since joining Sohu in 2003, he had served Zhang Chaoyang for ten years.

At first, they couldn’t stand each other, but after he raised Sogou Search’s market share to 5%, Zhang Chaoyang granted him full autonomy, spun off Sogou as an independent entity, and gave Wang XiaoChuan 10% equity.

Even after several funding rounds, he still held 6.8%—a clear sign of Zhang Chaoyang’s generosity.

Generally speaking, for a boss to give a subordinate 1% equity was rare enough; Zhang Chaoyang gave Wang XiaoChuan 10%.

During this time, Zhou Hongyi had privately tried to poach Wang XiaoChuan, and Ma Wenteng had also made moves—but Wang XiaoChuan turned them all down.

“I’ve also invited Chen Yan,” Zhang Chaoyang added.

“Bro, I’m on my way now,” Wang XiaoChuan replied immediately.

“So I can’t even command you anymore?” Zhang Chaoyang laughed and scolded.

“Bro, don’t misunderstand—I’m not that kind of person,” Wang XiaoChuan said seriously.

“Alright, alright, I won’t joke with you—gotta go.” Zhang Chaoyang said irritably.

Chen Yan had become a hot commodity—everyone wanted to meet him.

Zhang Chaoyang couldn’t help recalling over a decade ago, when Sohu had just gone public and his status in Beijing’s internet circle was exactly like Chen Yan’s now.

Wherever he went, crowds flocked to him; people lined up from Beijing to Hong Kong just to invite him to dinner and drinks.

“To be young again—how hard it is. Youth truly is damn wonderful.”

A look of nostalgia surfaced in Zhang Chaoyang’s eyes.

At the same moment.

Jia Yaoting, who had just sold fifty thousand LeTV boxes, was eager to enter the smart TV market; upon learning Chen Yan was in Beijing for an event, he immediately decided to make contact.

Leaving other things aside, just Pinbei Mall alone was worth his attention.

Building ties early meant one more vital online sales channel when LeTV TVs launched.

After thinking long and hard, he couldn’t think of anyone to introduce him, so he finally called Zhou Hongyi—after all, Old Zhou had boasted on Weibo: “Chen Zong is my closest friend.”

Since Chen Yan didn’t deny it, the claim wasn’t exaggerated.

(End of Chapter)