Chapter 375: Shared Cars

In Beijing, Cheng Wei, upon learning of ofo’s expansion moves, immediately deployed another fifty thousand shared bikes in North China and dispatched a team from headquarters to establish a branch office in East China.

The battle with ofo is now unavoidable!

If they continue northward, whether to Northeast or Northwest China, most areas—aside from a few cities—are unsuitable for shared bike operations.

If Didi bikes want to increase market share and profitability, the only path is southward.

After months of struggling against Cheng Wei, Xiao Huang’s Chang Wei realized no progress was being made and began considering a move south himself.

Both sides showed quiet mutual understanding, choosing Shanghai as their strategic outpost.

On February 20, Tugo shared cars launched, with one hundred Mercedes-Benz smart fortwo vehicles appearing on Beijing’s streets.

Ahead lay shared bikes; behind came shared cars.

It truly opened the eyes of Beijing locals—it was beyond impressive!

New users receive a 999-yuan welcome package upon registration, with a 1,500-yuan deposit, and payment options include Orange Pay, ZhiFuBao, or online banking.

The base fare is 15 yuan (including 30 minutes of usage), with a distance fee of 1.88 yuan per kilometer and a time fee calculated per minute: 0.28 yuan per minute during daytime (7:00–21:00), and 0.02 yuan per minute at night (21:00–7:00).

The pricing model is “base + distance + time”!

In simple terms, if someone rents a Mercedes-Benz smart during the day and drives for 40 minutes over 30 kilometers, the cost is 15 + 1.88 × 30 + 0.28 × (40 - 30) = 74.2 yuan.

That’s less than 2.5 yuan per kilometer, and with the new-user discount, it’s nearly half-price—thirty yuan gets you a Mercedes.

Although the deposit is high, users eager to try it still came in droves.

Internet media outlets competed to report on it!

“Shared cars have arrived—you don’t need to buy one to drive a Mercedes!”

“The new darling of capital: Tugo shared cars secured 30 million yuan in Series A funding!”

“One hundred Mercedes-Benz smart cars appear on Beijing’s streets—would you give it a try?”

After seeing the news, Chen Yansen couldn’t help but smile; tinkering with shared cars in 2013 was like lighting a lamp in the toilet—pure suicide.

Problems like deposits, parking, and vehicle maintenance alone would crush any shared car company.

A half-step ahead is genius; a full step ahead is madness.

In his view, the business model of shared cars wasn’t flawed—but perhaps it would take thirty or fifty years before the timing was right.

He had no interest in shared cars, but he saw tremendous potential in the shared e-bike market.

Compared to the high cost and complex parking challenges of cars, e-bikes better suit short-distance travel needs and hold enormous potential.

Once shared bikes become widespread and user habits are cultivated, shared e-bikes can follow into the market—just optimize range and safety standards, and you’ll seize first-mover advantage in this blue ocean.

Especially in cities like Chongqing, constrained by terrain (steep roads), shared bikes simply can’t operate—shared e-bikes would fill that market gap.

Earlier this year, Pei Yi had discussed with him the idea of acquiring an electric bike manufacturing plant in Xicheng.

First, to meet the needs of KuaiPao riders;

Second, to become a supplier of e-bikes for ofo, adding another revenue stream.

For this reason, Chen Yansen informed Ma Liyun, Ma Wenteng, Zhu Xiaohu, and Zhang Lei—after all, this was a major investment decision; if he just went ahead without saying anything, would he become like Ma Liyun?

Chen Yansen considered himself, at best, a halfway decent person.

Small private maneuvers were acceptable, but not to excess.

Xiao Ma and Zhang Lei readily agreed; Zhu Xiaohu, though displeased, ultimately didn’t object; only Ma Liyun strongly opposed it—but since all other investors approved, Old Ma had no choice.

“Ding ding ding—!”

Chen Yansen picked up his phone—it was Zhou Shouzhi calling.

“Boss, Mr. Xu is downstairs,” Zhou Shouzhi said.

What does he want?

Chen Yansen wondered.

But Xu Zhenhui was head of the Central Bureau; over the past few years, Pinbei Mall and Orange Tech had thrived in Xucheng under his guidance.

Since the man had come in person, Chen Yansen couldn’t afford to be rude.

Thinking this, he stepped out, took the elevator to the first floor, and found Zhou Shouzhi sitting with Xu Zhenhui in the lounge, sipping tea and chatting. Two secretaries in business attire sat nearby.

Outside, a black, old-model Audi was parked.

Xu Zhenhui looked up and spotted Chen Yansen; he started to rise, but Chen Yansen quickly stepped forward and pressed him back into his seat.

Chen Yansen smiled and said, “Mr. Xu, my apologies for keeping you waiting.”

“Mr. Chen, please sit,” Xu Zhenhui gestured.

Chen Yansen didn’t refuse; he pulled over a chair and sat to the left of Xu Zhenhui.

“Mr. Xu, are you here in Xucheng for the university anniversary?” Chen Yansen asked.

“Yes, I heard from Tang Qingshan that you plan to build a large data center in Luzhou?”

Xu Zhenhui cut straight to the point.

“We do have related plans; we’re still in the site-selection phase,” Chen Yansen replied honestly, without hiding anything.

“Mr. Chen, could you consider keeping this project in Xucheng?” Xu Zhenhui requested directly.

He knew Orange Tech had purchased a 460,000-square-meter industrial plot in Luzhou to build its headquarters, where Pinbei, Today Tech, and Orange Pay would all relocate—leaving Xucheng’s internet development level back to what it was before 2010.

But he was powerless; compared to Meng Yuanzhi, his resources and policy leverage were far inferior.

Senlian Capital would eventually move out.

“The most critical requirements for a data center are stable power supply and abundant bandwidth—Xucheng isn’t the optimal choice,” Chen Yansen shook his head.

Friendship is friendship; business is business.

He wouldn’t alter the company’s strategic plan just because of Xu Zhenhui’s past favors.

This data center was vital to Orange Tech—no room for even the slightest mistake.

“I can secure the power supply and bandwidth for you. Also, Luzhou lies on a seismic zone—better safe than sorry; placing the data center there isn’t safe.”

Xu Zhenhui had already prepared his argument, striking straight at the core.

In fact, he wasn’t wrong.

Chen Yansen had delayed finalizing this decision mainly because he was waiting for the Anhui Geological Association’s survey report—he feared natural disasters like earthquakes and floods.

“I can also handle the renovation, fire safety, and low-interest loans. You’re a young entrepreneur trained by Xucheng University—you’re practically half a Xucheng native. Can’t you leave something behind?”

Xu Zhenhui pleaded pitifully.

That old man Tang Qingshan had a loose mouth—always causing him trouble.

The problem was, he’d already promised Meng Yuanzhi—he couldn’t back out now.

Chen Yansen suddenly realized: Tang Qingshan had probably done this on purpose.

He furrowed his brow, thought for a few seconds, then smiled faintly and made an outrageous demand: “Mr. Xu, to be honest, I’ve already promised Mr. Meng.”

Xu Zhenhui’s face darkened; since Chen Yansen had invoked Meng Yuanzhi, he couldn’t press further.

“So, if Xucheng can provide a 1-billion-yuan interest-free loan, I’ll consider building an equally sized data center in Xucheng,” Chen Yansen added.

A sudden turn!

Before Xu Zhenhui could rejoice, he heard “1 billion” and “interest-free loan”—and instantly felt overwhelmed.

It violated regulations!

But he understood: if he refused, Chen Yansen would have his excuse to say no.

(End of Chapter)