Chapter 46: I

The next evening, Chen Yansen saw Meng Jie off on the bus.

“Stay good at school, I’ll bring you beef soup, Da Jiu Jia, and thousand-layer sheets wrapped in fried dough sticks when I get back…”

Meng Jie sat in her seat, eyes lowered, a hint of reluctance in her expression, chattering on.

“Maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?”

Chen Yansen smiled faintly, gently cupping her head as he whispered.

“No way! My mom misses me already. It’s only five days—I’ll come back early.”

Meng Jie nuzzled against him, speaking softly.

Her short hair had grown to her shoulders, more refined and beautiful than two months ago.

Chen Yansen silently cursed—he’d planned to push Meng Jie to third base, maybe even home plate during the National Day holiday, but her mother’s longing for her had ruined everything.

When he returned to campus, night had fallen.

As he stepped onto the second floor of the Entrepreneurship Park, he froze at the sight of a dense crowd, then pushed his way in without hesitation.

“Principal, that’s Chen Yansen!”

Guo Dongchen, standing beside the crowd, pointed at Chen Yansen and introduced him.

Principal?

Chen Yansen reacted instantly, flashing a warm, enthusiastic smile as he stepped forward and spoke with calm poise:

“Principal Tang, welcome to Entrepreneurship Park 206. Without your strong support, our project wouldn’t have progressed so smoothly…”

Tang Qingshan, in his fifties, sported a three-seven part hairstyle, medium build, and bore a slight resemblance to actor Tang Guoqiang.

Seeing Chen Yansen’s polished words and social grace, he clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Chen, I heard your startup is doing well. Share some insights with the teachers here.”

Chen Yansen swiftly scanned the crowd—those beside Tang Qingshan radiated an air far beyond ordinary professors; they were likely deans of the Business School, Literature School, and Information Engineering College.

He wouldn’t be foolish enough to boast; instead, he humbly replied, “Principal, I’m only a freshman—what experience do I have? Any small success we’ve had comes entirely from Director Cao’s meticulous guidance, the deans’ focused cultivation, and the outstanding seniors from all departments…”

Any other young person saying this would sound forced; Chen Yansen delivered it with effortless fluency.

Tang Qingshan paused, a mix of amusement and exasperation crossing his face.

No wonder this kid, after only a month on campus, already had upperclassmen working for him—paying them was one thing, but knowing how to handle people was another.

Just this flawless rhetoric would take most people three to five years to master.

In the corner, Cao Dahua, hearing his name mentioned, straightened his back unconsciously, thinking: This kid’s got sense—didn’t waste the desk and water dispenser I gave him.

“Tell us about your project.”

Tang Qingshan waved a hand, cutting off Chen Yansen’s praise—he knew his own help amounted to nothing more than a word to Cao Dahua.

The website’s success was entirely due to the kid’s own ability!

“Yes, Principal!” Chen Yansen nodded, his expression turning serious. He led everyone into Room 206, where a 60-inch screen stood by the window.

On it, a single number scrolled continuously: 57483!

“Principal, our project is a new e-commerce model, thriving on major B2C platforms. Users click our links to redirect to Taobao, JD, or Guomei…”

“In principle, we’re an ad platform—we sell traffic to e-commerce sites and share part of the revenue with users, creating a win-win. In modern marketing, this is called CPS…”

Chen Yansen spoke fluently, explaining with confidence, showing no trace of nervousness.

“What’s this number?”

Tang Qingshan pointed at the screen, curious.

“That’s our actual registered user count. In three days, it’ll likely double again. According to our planned promotion, I aim to hit 100,000 DAU by year-end and monthly revenue over 10 million.”

Chen Yansen answered calmly, as if describing something trivial.

Whether Tang Qingshan believed him didn’t matter—entrepreneurs must dare to paint grand pictures, whether to employees or investors.

The effect was immediate!

Even Zhang Wenbo and Xiang Pengfei exchanged glances, reassessing the importance of Senhai in their own career plans.

If Senhai took off, they’d just need to ride its growth to become managers or supervisors.

100,000 DAU!

10 million monthly revenue!

Tang Qingshan’s brow furrowed slightly—Chen Yansen’s vision was undeniably compelling.

If he could deliver, it would mean a major achievement for Xucheng College’s student entrepreneurship program, giving him strong leverage in reports to higher-ups.

“Chen, your project is incubated by the Entrepreneurship Park. As your mentor, we naturally offer necessary support. What do you need most right now?”

Tang Qingshan smiled warmly.

Of course, money!

Chen Yansen thought it, but knew he couldn’t ask outright. He’d answer casually, and extract real benefits.

“Principal, our project just launched—we’re swamped with work, and can’t spare time for some electives…”

Chen Yansen paused, hesitating slightly.

His meaning was clear: Principal, I need a special privilege—permission to skip class with a pass.

“Teacher Guo, tell the Literature School professors to loosen Chen’s attendance requirements. His entrepreneurship counts as learning too.”

Tang Qingshan, seeing it was a minor request, agreed immediately.

“Thank you, Principal!” Chen Yansen smiled, then had Zhang Wenbo and Xiang Pengfei briefly outline the development process, subtly letting them make a good impression on the dean of Information Engineering.

As they left, Tang Qingshan told Cao Dahua, “Teacher Cao, submit a research report to me after the holiday.”

Clearly, he intended to make Senhai a flagship student startup for Xucheng College—something to boast about at provincial university meetings.

After seeing off these big shots, Chen Yansen exhaled deeply and pulled out a chair to sit down.

“Sen-ge, can we really hit 10 million in revenue by year-end?” Zhang Wenbo, ever the honest one, couldn’t resist asking.

“Ten million? Pfft! I’d dare to dream of one billion!”

Chen Yansen grinned, then turned to Song Yuncheng. “Get me an ice cream. Now.”

Seeing her motionless, he smirked and threatened, "Keep glaring at me, and I'll dock your pay."

This trick always worked on Song Yuncheng, the money-grubber.

“Yes, yes, Boss Chen!” Song Yuncheng shrank her shoulders, sighed, and obediently walked to the fridge.

The others chuckled, assuming Chen Yansen was just blowing smoke—10 million was already astronomical to them, let alone one billion.

Since tomorrow was National Day, Chen Yansen discussed with Zhang Wenbo and Xiang Pengfei, arranging for one person from each team to stay behind for emergencies.

At 7 PM, Chen Yansen checked his watch. Seeing them still seated, eyes glued to the screen, he said, “Go home! The voting ends in two days—staring won’t help.”

“Sen-ge, we just want to see if today’s orders break a thousand!” Zhuang Rui replied with a grin.

“How many short?” Chen Yansen sat beside Zhuang Rui, glancing at his screen—the backend showed 837 orders today, total sales of 26,365.5 yuan, average order value barely over 30 yuan.

The best-selling item: a 9.9-yuan men’s short-sleeve T-shirt, selling 183 pieces in one day thanks to free shipping in coastal areas.

“Estimated gross profit: 6,318 yuan. Not bad.” Chen Yansen smiled casually.

“Sen-ge, but our prize pool is already 220,000 yuan,” Zhang Wenbo ventured weakly.

“Wenbo, you can’t calculate it that way. That 220,000 brought us over 60,000 new users. And 99% of winners won’t meet the withdrawal threshold—they’ll either quit or place another order.” Chen Yansen explained slowly.

“Exactly, Wenbo! Me and Sen-ge calculated it—based on current gross margins, our actual payout will likely be under 30,000 yuan,” Zhuang Rui added.

“Awesome!” Zhang Wenbo gave a thumbs-up.

“Keep working. I’m going back to sleep.” Chen Yansen yawned, standing to leave.

The voting campaign had far exceeded his expectations—last night, he’d stayed up, selecting over a thousand products across categories and pushing them live in one click.

Rewriting titles and swapping images was a massive task—he’d worked until dawn before finally dozing off.

He’d need to hire a few editors right after the holiday.

Girls from the Literature School would do fine—pick a few with good looks and figures; Zhang Wenbo’s tech crew would work harder for them.

Chen Yansen returned to Room 0418 and slept until 9:30 PM, stomach growling, before reluctantly heading downstairs for food.

The campus was empty—few students around, only one pancake stall still open in the cafeteria.

Chen Yansen had no choice and didn’t care—he ate the mixed-grain pancake while wandering aimlessly around campus.

Passing the Entrepreneurship Park, he noticed lights on the second floor.

“Probably Wenbo and Pengfei.”

Chen Yansen didn’t think twice, climbing the stairs—only Room 206 was lit; Room 208 was dark.

“Huh? Still here? Trying to scam me for overtime pay?”

Chen Yansen crept closer, whispering teasingly.

Gentlemen, 6,000 characters delivered—please follow for more~ Help me break into the Top 50 of the New Book Rankings~

Masters, here are 6,000 characters—please follow and support me to break into the top 50 of the new book rankings~

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(End of Chapter)