Chapter 369

On February 2, Liu Qiangdong publicly announced a “rest and recuperation” strategy, voluntarily ending the price war with Suning, Gome, and Yixun.com.

The outside world assumed he had “gone straight,” but Zhang Jindong knew clearly: Liangzai Dong was going to the United States for advanced study, taking a three-month MBA course, and simply had no bandwidth.

Zhang Jindong wanted to launch a surprise attack but couldn’t bring himself to spend the money.

After all, every one of Suning’s subsidy campaigns was born only when JD had pushed them into a corner with no retreat left.

Half an hour later, iResearch released its January group-buying market report: KuaiPao ranked first again with a monthly transaction volume of 1.49 billion yuan.

Lashou.com ranked second with 1.02 billion yuan.

Dazhong Dianping ranked third with 730 million yuan.

Meituan, unsurprisingly, remained the industry’s fourth-place player, with only 470 million yuan in transaction volume.

Lashou.com rose to second place for the first time.

Although the “Annan Bride Group Buy” service generated no actual transaction volume, it brought Lashou.com a surge of attention, and with Baidu’s traffic and financial support, surpassing Dazhong Dianping was expected.

Yet when combined, Dazhong Dianping and Meituan’s transaction volumes still fell short of KuaiPao’s—shocking many.

With Meituan now mired in public backlash, it was easy to imagine its February results would again land at the bottom.

Movie ticket group buying accounted for a staggering 27.9% of sales, becoming a key channel for the Spring Festival box office.

“Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons” launched pre-sales, offering an exclusive KuaiPao discount price of 19.9 yuan, driving tens of millions of additional traffic to the group-buying platform.

Soon after, Mobile announced its TD-LTE strategy, preparing to accelerate 4G deployment and build 200,000 base stations by year-end.

China Telecom and China Unicom, having completed commercial testing of their 4G networks, were also scrambling to prepare.

3G service fees were already trending downward, and rumors of 4G’s imminent arrival were spreading like wildfire.

Ma Liyun, holed up in his hometown of Hangcheng, could no longer sit still after learning WeChat users had surpassed 300 million and Apple users had exceeded 200 million.

He hastily summoned Lu Zhaoxi, Zhang Yong, and others for a senior management meeting, declaring social software the core strategy for Ali in 2013.

After a day of discussion, an app named “Laiwang” was placed at the top of the development priority list.

Ali’s HR department rushed to distribute the hiring requirements for the Laiwang app lead across the company website, job platforms, and headhunting firms before the Spring Festival.

Ali’s first foray into social networking began quietly.

…

…

“Brother Xin, we haven’t lost our chance yet—giving up now is premature,” Wang Huiwen ventured cautiously.

After three straight days of setbacks, Wang Xin had lost heart and wanted to surrender.

He didn’t understand!

His own clay doll, held in his hands, remained just clay—but once sold to someone else, it turned into a golden doll.

Like Xiaonai.com: seven years ago, it was sold to Chen Yizhou for two million U.S. dollars; after a slight rebranding, it went public on Nasdaq, hitting a market cap of 7.4 billion U.S. dollars on its first day.

As for group-buying websites, from the start, he understood: serve more users, and the product’s value grows with scale.

The evidence proved his business vision was sound—but the group-buying arena had too many competitors.

Baidu entered first; Senlian Capital followed closely behind.

They knocked Meituan off the industry throne, then kicked it down to fourth place; with no one left behind, another step backward would mean closing shop like WoWoTuan.

“Lao Wang, I’m sorry—I couldn’t lead all of you to a decent life.”

Facing his old classmate and longtime partner, Wang Xin looked ashamed.

In his eyes, only Meituan’s founding team were his own people; middle managers were beasts of burden; frontline staff and delivery riders were mere consumables—he’d never once looked at them properly.

Wang Xin had failed at entrepreneurship so many times he could barely count on both hands; failure didn’t scare him—only the fear of starting over again was shameful.

Seeing Wang Xin like this, Wang Huiwen’s face twisted in pain. “Brother Xin, it’s not over yet.”

“Sell now, and you can still get some cash. Wait until Meituan’s February sales are announced, and you might not even get three hundred million U.S. dollars.”

Wang Xin gave a bitter laugh.

If not forced, he didn’t want to sell the company.

But right now, there were no investors, no traffic, barely any cash left on the books—keep struggling, and WoWoTuan would be Meituan’s fate.

Founders being chased down by venture capital firms!

“Then who do we sell to?” Wang Huiwen asked helplessly, seeing Wang Xin had made up his mind.

“Ali.” Wang Xin gritted his teeth.

Chen Yan and Li Yanhong had driven Meituan into a corner—he’d make things difficult for both of them.

Ali’s strength was no less than Senlian Capital or Baidu; once Ali took over Meituan, with its traffic and funding boost, KuaiPao and Lashou.com’s growth would inevitably stall.

“But Ali invested in KuaiPao—would Ma Liyun really hit his own palm?” Wang Huiwen doubted this move.

“Try it. If it fails, sell to Tencent instead.”

Wang Xin shrugged.

“Alright, I’ll contact Ji Gang at Ali’s investment department first,” Wang Huiwen said, seeing through his friend’s plan, and nodded.

That evening.

Ji Gang received Wang Huiwen’s call; after listening, his expression turned startled.

He hadn’t expected Wang Xin to be so defeated by KuaiPao and Lashou, nor that his first choice wasn’t merging with Dazhong Dianping or selling to Senlian Capital—but to Ali.

“Wang Zong, I need to report this to the company first,” Ji Gang said after a moment’s thought.

Technically, Ma Liyun and Cai Xin had both said they’d temporarily hold off on investing in Meituan.

But the bosses’ wording was precise: only temporary.

If he didn’t report a major development, he might get scolded.

“Thanks, Ji Zong,” Wang Huiwen knew Ji Gang had no authority to decide.

His superior was Cai Xin, and Cai Xin reported to Ma Liyun.

It would take at least two or three days for any result.

So after hanging up, he called Lin Chenfeng at Tencent’s investment department.

He wouldn’t sit around waiting for Ali.

“Wang Zong, sorry, Tencent has no plans to acquire group-buying sites,” Lin Chenfeng replied bluntly.

QQ Group Buy, after merging with GaoPeng and F-Tuan, remained half-dead—buy another group-buying site drowning in negative press?

Are you kidding?

He didn’t want to be publicly scolded by Pony and Martin at the next senior meeting.

Wang Huiwen gave a forced laugh and quietly put his phone away.

Meanwhile, Shen Nanpeng of Sequoia Capital also got word and immediately called Wang Xin, demanding why he hadn’t followed his advice to merge with Dazhong Dianping.

“I want cash, not equity,” Wang Xin replied bluntly.

Selling Meituan was his only source of funding for his next project.

What would he gain by merging with Dazhong Dianping?

Wang Xin didn’t believe Zhang Tao could defeat KuaiPao and Lashou.com.

“Shall I arrange a meeting between you and Chen Yan from Senlian Capital?” Shen Nanpeng suggested.

He’d just participated in the Series A funding of Ofo; in his view, Chen Yan owed him at least some courtesy.

“A few days ago, I had Zhang Zhaoyang deliver a message—Chen Yan has zero interest in acquiring Meituan.”

Wang Xin replied honestly.

“Fine, I understand. If you want to sell, I won’t stop you—but the price must be approved by Sequoia Capital,” Shen Nanpeng said sternly.

He feared Wang Xin would secretly sell low and damage Sequoia’s interests.

“Fine, I have no objection,” Wang Xin replied flatly.

With things said this far, Shen Nanpeng didn’t mention additional investment—clearly, Sequoia had already abandoned Meituan.

Wang Xin sneered and pressed the end call button.

Half an hour later, Wang Huiwen returned with the responses from Ali and Tencent. “If Tencent won’t buy, then go to Baidu,” Wang Xin thought for a moment, then came up with a new idea.

First, it could make KuaiPao and Lashou fight each other; second, with Baidu in the mix, he could raise his own asking price with Ali.

Otherwise, if Ali was the only buyer, they’d crush the price.

Wang Huiwen was sharp—he understood at once. He didn’t ask further, pulled over a chair, and started making calls right in the office.

Wang Xin, like a dying hyena, glared fiercely at KuaiPao and Lashou, ready to bite anyone.

Wang Xin, like a hyena on its deathbed, glared fiercely at Kuai Pao and La Shou, ready to bite anyone.

At Ali’s headquarters in Hangcheng, Taohuadao office.

Ma Liyun’s gaze swept over Tang Yongbo, Zhang Yong, and Lu Zhaoxi, then asked: “What do you think?”

“Acquiring Meituan would fill Ali’s last major gap in local services, letting us walk on two legs,” Lu Zhaoxi said casually.

“Engaging KuaiPao and Lashou.com head-on now would drain our resources and capital, possibly affecting our upcoming IPO,” Zhang Yong shook his head, clearly opposed.

Chen Yan was infamous for holding grudges; after KuaiPao took the group-buying crown, Wang Xin merely bared his teeth once—and got crushed into retreat.

If Ali buys Meituan and provokes KuaiPao’s retaliation, will we fight a price war?

Fight it, and we burn cash and hurt our cash flow; don’t fight it, then why buy Meituan at all?

“Combine Taobao Waimai with Meituan—use high-frequency traffic to drive low-frequency services, creating a complete business ecosystem. I support the acquisition,”

“By integrating Taobao Takeout with Meituan, using high-frequency traffic to drive low-frequency usage, we can build a complete business ecosystem—I support the acquisition.”

Acquiring Meituan and merging it with Waimai would give him greater power, more resources, and more influence.

Since it benefited him, he naturally didn’t oppose.

If it benefited him, he naturally wouldn't object.

Ma Liyun frowned; two votes in favor, one against—he didn’t really want to buy either.

But then he reconsidered: Taobao had already entered the food delivery industry, and local life services were part of Ali’s strategy anyway—they’d eventually clash with Kuai Pao.

Since the day he decided to dip into food delivery, the cooperation between Ali and Senlian Capital had developed cracks.

After a long pause, Ma Liyun decided: “Tell Ji Gang to initiate the Meituan acquisition process.”

Rather than hiding it, better to openly acknowledge Ali’s determination to enter local life services.

“Understood, Ma Zong,” Tang Yongbo nodded slightly.

…

…

“You mean Wang Xin is preparing to sell Meituan?”

At Baidu’s headquarters building, Li Yanhong asked Gong Zhenbing.

“Wang Huiwen said it herself—it’s probably true. Meituan’s monthly transaction volume in January was only 470 million, a drop of nearly 60% compared to three months ago; once February’s numbers come out, it’ll likely fall below 400 million.”

Gong Zhenbing smiled.

Although he was scolded last month and publicly criticized by the Inspection Association, Lashou.com’s monthly transaction volume hit 1 billion for the first time, surging to second place in the industry, just behind Kuai Pao.

Li Yanhong became warm and friendly toward him again!

In a giant company like Baidu, if you want to thrive, timing matters—you must reach the expected performance level before your boss runs out of time and patience.

Otherwise, the project gets shut down, and the lead gets fired too.

“What’s Wang Huiwen’s asking price?” Li Yanhong asked, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“370 million U.S. dollars,” Gong Zhenbing replied.

Li Yanhong recalled: when Baidu acquired Lashou.com, the price was 420 million U.S. dollars, and Lashou’s monthly transaction volume was around 600 million back then. Compared to that, 370 million wasn’t high.

“Push the price down, keep it around 300 million—I’ll have the investment department assist you,” Li Yanhong said.

If we acquire Meituan and merge it with Lashou.com, Baidu.com will rise to number one in the group-buying sector.

But Li Yanhong overlooked one thing: merging businesses is an extremely complex task. From a macro view, it seems simple—like “1+1=2.”

But from a micro perspective, factors like executive handovers, operational alignment, and staff turnover will all affect the merged team’s combat effectiveness.

If executed well, 1+1>2; if executed poorly, 1+1<2.

The next morning, Ma Wenteng, attending an internet entrepreneur exchange meeting, was asked by a reporter: “Ma Zong, hello. What’s your view on Baidu.com entering the ride-hailing and group-buying businesses?”

If this were ten years later, Xiao Ma would’ve brushed it off: “Baidu has excellent technical accumulation—I believe Robin will achieve some success in this new field.”

But Gao Peng and QQ Group Buying had humiliated him in the group-buying industry, so Ma Wenteng spoke bluntly: “Generally speaking, a company can’t excel in two entirely different businesses unless you’re Chen Yan.”

The reporter paused, then instinctively pressed: “So is that why Tencent keeps failing in e-commerce?”

Xiao Ma’s face darkened; he narrowed his eyes: “Which media outlet are you from?”

Damn it, you’re aiming straight for the face, aren’t you?

The reporter startled, laughed awkwardly, subtly covered the mic’s logo, then bolted away.

But neither Ma Liyun nor Li Yanhong expected Wang Xin to change his mind the next day.

Because Atlantic Capital’s Hong Jing approached him directly, offering to invest 100 million U.S. dollars in Meituan.

To foreign investors, Meituan’s market share wasn’t high, but it still held fourth place in the industry.

Though Wang Xin didn’t understand why, he didn’t refuse—he readily agreed.

He exchanged 20% equity for 100 million U.S. dollars in funding.

Ma Liyun was dragged around by Wang Xin and flew into a rage.

Li Yanhong was stunned—his and Lao Ma’s actions had inadvertently helped Wang Xin raise the price.

But he could do nothing but mutter a few curses.

…

…

“It seems Meituan’s 4% equity stake barely satisfies Ma Liyun’s appetite.”

After learning Wang Xin had tricked Li Yanhong and Ma Liyun, Chen Yan didn’t gloat.

Ma Liyun wanted to buy Meituan?

What the hell is this old man up to?

Food delivery isn’t enough—he wants to enter group buying too?

Atlantic Capital’s 100 million injection had pulled Meituan back from the brink of death.

But he didn’t care much—it would only buy Meituan a few more months.

Outside the window, snow lay thick, the wind biting cold; only three days remained until the Spring Festival holiday.

5,700 users had collected all five lucky charms; compared to previous days, the daily increase in users who completed the set had risen by over a hundred, and the average payout shown on the activity page kept shrinking.

Users felt conflicted: before collecting all five, they wished OrangePay would issue 10,000 Dedication Charms per day; after collecting them, they hoped OrangePay would issue just one per day.

Regardless, OrangePay’s marketing campaign had successfully captured the attention and high participation of hundreds of millions of users.

At the same time.

In the United States, Stanford University beside Silicon Valley.

“Jerry, look what I found! A brand-new mobile operating system—wow, they even have their own open-source community.”

A computer science student excitedly shared with his friend.

“AuroraFutureOS? How’s its architecture designed?” Jerry turned, glancing at the screen.

“I’m still studying it—the underlying tech is advanced, the layered architecture is clear, memory management and multitasking scheduling are optimized, and the message-passing mechanism is stronger than iOS,”

Bu Nian replied.

“Send me the link to the open-source BBS,” Jerry said, suddenly interested.

With promotion through Mimo, Wired magazine, and other channels, AuroraFutureOS gradually gained minor fame among developer enthusiasts.

Combined with a total of 30 million U.S. dollars in AuroraFutureOS vulnerability rewards, it drew countless developers to study the Aurora Future System.

Meanwhile, Apple, having obtained the OrangeZ1 instruction set architecture license, was using the new CPU architecture to design the A7 chip.

(End of Chapter)