Chapter 70: Walk Others

Near noon, FoxTao members gradually came downstairs and headed to the cafeteria.

After reviewing the product selection list sent by Zhang Yifeng, Chen Yansen looked up and realized only three customer service staff remained on the second floor; he patted his belly and strolled out leisurely.

It was peak lunchtime, and the streets of Xuelin Road and Xuehai Road were packed with energetic college students, but autumn was ending, and fewer and fewer girls were wearing short skirts and silk stockings.

“Someone fainted! Someone help!”

A girl’s scream suddenly rang out ahead, and the surrounding crowd erupted into chaos.

Chen Yansen heard the commotion, glanced casually, and prepared to walk around.

Only college students would be this enthusiastic—ten years from now, who’d bother?

Chen Yansen snorted, but just as he was about to pass, his peripheral vision caught the fainted girl’s belongings: a dull, ugly beige backpack and a business laptop uniformly purchased by FoxTao.

His brow instantly knotted; he shoved his arms into the throng and casually pushed the onlookers on either side back half a meter.

In the center of the crowd, Song Yuncheng lay on her side, lips pale, eyes tightly shut, skin scraped raw on her knees and palms, oozing bright red blood—yet she remained unconscious.

“Make way!”

Chen Yansen bellowed, then scooped Song Yuncheng up in his arms.

Only then did he realize her face looked plump, yet she weighed less than ninety jin—light as a feather in his arms.

Chen Yansen had no time to think; he ran with her toward the medical room.

“Holy shit! This guy’s got serious strength—he’s running that fast while carrying someone!”

“That’s Chen Yansen from FoxTao, isn’t it? So hot and so manly.”

“That backpack and laptop belong to the fainted girl—someone help me take them to the medical room.”

“I’ll do it!”

A girl with glasses volunteered, picked up Song Yuncheng’s things, and trotted after them toward the medical room.

…

…

“Little Chen, is this your girlfriend? Let me tell you—you eat well, dress warm, but your girlfriend’s anemic and malnourished? If I’d known you were this kind of guy, I never would’ve given you a sick leave slip.”

Meng Yaqin shot Chen Yansen a furious glare, brimming with contempt for a scumbag—she nearly spat in his face.

“Sis Meng, don’t wrong a good man! She’s a FoxTao employee—I pay her three or four thousand a month. Who knows how she got herself into this state?”

Chen Yansen refused to take the blame and snapped back irritably.

Meng Yaqin’s sister was the channel manager at the campus telecom service center; Chen Yansen had obtained his previous sick leave slip through her connection.

“Oh, well then—don’t worry, she just has low blood sugar. After this glucose drip, she’ll be fine.”

Meng Yaqin’s face stiffened; she forced a nervous smile, realizing she’d misjudged Chen Yansen, and hurriedly left the infusion room.

Lying on the hospital bed, Song Yuncheng, half-conscious, suddenly heard Chen Yansen say, “She’s a FoxTao employee,” and a wave of relief washed over her—yes, her relationship with Chen Yansen had always been strictly superior-subordinate, never changed.

A glistening tear welled in her eye; she pressed hard on her eyelids, refusing to let it fall.

“Senior, here’s her backpack and laptop—I put them on the chair.”

At that moment, the girl with glasses walked in smiling, pointing to Song Yuncheng on the bed.

“Thank you.” Chen Yansen gave a faint smile and politely responded.

The girl waved it off, saying no thanks were needed, but her eyes secretly studied Chen Yansen.

“Do you have anything else?” Chen Yansen asked suddenly.

“N-no, Senior, goodbye!” The girl panicked, shook her head frantically, and left with a forced laugh.

Chen Yansen pulled over a chair and sat beside Song Yuncheng’s bed, muttering: “This person’s such a hassle—thousands a month salary and still ends up like this. Does she have a sick mom, a gambling dad, and a younger brother in school too?”

Song Yuncheng had been pretending to sleep, but hearing his teasing, her heart ached sharply; she immediately opened her eyes and shot back fiercely: “You’re the one with a sick mom, a gambling dad, and a younger brother in school!”

Song Yuncheng in battle mode was like a puffed-up wildcat.

“You were faking sleep?” Chen Yansen realized.

“Fine, my mistake—I’m leaving.” Seeing her awake and ready to bite him, Chen Yansen gave a light scoff and turned to walk away.

“You—” Song Yuncheng watched his back disappear without a glance, too furious to finish her sentence.

…

…

Chen Yansen never coddled anyone; after lunch, he returned to Room 0418 for a nap, and only at 1:30 p.m. did he yawn his way slowly into the Entrepreneurship Park.

“Boss, here’s the office supplies procurement list and employee benefits plan for December—do you need any adjustments?”

No sooner had he sat down than Xu Xingxing approached with a stack of documents, grinning.

“Mm, put it here.” Chen Yansen tapped the desk, speaking flatly.

FoxTao’s current daily active users hover steadily around 600,000, with 400,000 new users coming from the zero-yuan bargain viral campaign, 50,000 from advertising channels, and the remaining 150,000 being retained loyal users.

Once the advertising and zero-yuan bargain campaigns stop, daily active users will plummet below 100,000.

The platform averages over 70,000 orders daily, with a gross profit of roughly 500,000 yuan; after deducting marketing, labor, and tech costs, it still nets 200,000 yuan per day—6 million yuan monthly.

Money must be spent!

In this life, Chen Yansen had far less interest in villas, luxury cars, and yachts—he’d already grown bored of them in his past life; having faced death, he now understood the importance of health, so he had Xu Xingxing devise employee benefits, giving himself a reason to spend.

“1. Holiday gifts: distribute 200-yuan red packets for Spring Festival, Mid-Autumn Festival, Dragon Boat Festival, and employee birthdays;”

“2. Supplementary medical insurance;”

“3. Monthly team-building activities;”

“4. Annual group travel;”

Chen Yansen flipped through the document, glanced briefly, then shook his head and pulled out a pen to revise.

Team-building? Strike it out!

Group travel? Strike it out!

Isn’t cashing out everything better?

Chen Yansen added a note: For full-time employees, 200 yuan monthly team-building allowance, disbursed with salary.

For full-time employees, 2,000 yuan annual travel fund, increasing 1,000 yuan per additional year of service, capped at 10,000 yuan.

Whether employees attend team-building or travel? The company doesn’t care.

Five hundred yuan for holiday red packets was too stingy; he crossed it out and changed it to 500 yuan.

He added one final item: All FoxTao members receive a 500-yuan meal subsidy monthly, effective immediately, to be uniformly recharged onto meal cards by the admin department—no reimbursement allowed.

Chen Yansen tossed the document to Xu Xingxing, who glanced at it and immediately shrieked with excitement.

Others heard the noise and leaned over, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Boss! Did you add an extra zero?” Xu Xingxing, flustered by everyone staring, lowered her head in disbelief.

“Stop wasting time! Effective today—here’s my meal card!” Chen Yansen rolled his eyes and tossed the card over.

Xu Xingxing snatched the card, beaming, and dashed back to her seat, revising the document, then directly sent the updated employee benefits plan to the project group chat.

“Ahh—aaaaahhh!”

Soon after, a roar of cheers erupted from the second floor.

Chen Yansen smiled faintly—these miscellaneous expenses would add at least one point of Humanitarian Flame per employee annually; as the workforce grew, that would become thousands, even tens of thousands of points.

Even Superman would kneel and sing his praises!

Stimulated, FoxTao members worked harder than ever, as if injected with adrenaline.

When Song Yuncheng returned to the Entrepreneurship Park after her glucose drip, she immediately sensed the atmosphere had changed.

“Why are they so energetic?” Song Yuncheng frowned, but after sitting down and opening her computer, she spotted the new file in the project group.

Supplementary medical insurance, holiday red packets, travel fund, team-building allowance, and a 500-yuan monthly meal subsidy?

Through the gap of her computer screen, Song Yuncheng stole a glance at Chen Yansen—the phrase “meal subsidy must not use reimbursement” seemed deliberately aimed at her.

“He’s not all bad,” Song Yuncheng thought quietly.

The morning’s humiliation by Chen Yansen had quietly buried itself in her heart.

Around two p.m., a van marked “First Time” pulled up outside the Entrepreneurship Park.

“Chen Yansen, let me introduce you—this is Zhang Liang, on-location host from First Time, who came all the way from Lucheng to film your segment.” Cao Dahua led the group into Room 206.

“Teacher Zhang, welcome!”

Chen Yansen shook hands with them, then guided them to Room 202, currently vacant and perfect as an interview room.

Zhang Liang couldn’t help but study Chen Yansen—eighteen or nineteen years old, white shirt underneath, brown jacket over it, handsome features, refined face, half a head taller than him.

His demeanor and speech didn’t resemble a college student at all—he seemed like a seasoned veteran of the business world.

After the crew adjusted the lights and microphones, one asked Zhang Liang: “Teacher Zhang, should we give Chen a light makeup?”

“No,” Zhang Liang stared at Chen Yansen for a moment, then waved it off: “His skin and features are perfect—makeup would ruin it.”

The interview that followed left Zhang Liang increasingly stunned: the young man spoke flawlessly, witty and insightful, matching him point for point.

This episode would definitely go viral!

Zhang Liang was certain of it before leaving.

Three days later, the episode aired; Chen Yansen’s calm, articulate demeanor on camera sparked a sensation across the province.

Clips from the show soon trended nationwide, with all three major portals reposting the coverage.

This time, Chen Yansen and FoxTao exploded into mainstream fame.

Chen Yansen’s good looks naturally drew traffic, and with media dubbing him “The Youngest Millionaire Among Gen Z,” he became wildly popular among students and white-collar workers.

Women made up the majority, rushing to register FoxTao accounts and buying clothes, bags, cosmetics, and snacks on the site.

Some even promoted and rallied for him on Weibo.

Uninformed netizens even thought Chen Yansen was a newly debuted idol star.

After learning this, Chen Yansen was both amused and exasperated—he never expected he’d end up following Cheng Ou’s path.

But he didn’t hesitate; he registered a Weibo account that night, choosing the nickname “FoxTao CEO Chen Yansen,” then without further ado, uploaded several handsome photos along with a 0-yuan discount link.

“Hello everyone, I’m Chen Yansen, founder of FoxTao—I’m speaking for myself: use FoxTao, shop smarter!”

Chen Yansen had no qualms—he directly copied Cheng Ou’s lines; what Cheng Ou would do later was none of his business!

Walk someone else’s path and leave them with no road left—that’s the real thrill!

In just a few days, his Weibo followers surged from zero to 800,000, on the verge of breaking a million.

Far away in Chunshen, Chen Guobin sat in front of the TV, watching the sharply dressed Chen Yansen, and once again wondered: Is this really my son?

(End of Chapter)