Chapter 91

Chen Yansen locked his car and went upstairs, with Song Yuncheng following right behind him.

Less than half the desks were occupied; the rest had gone to the cafeteria for dinner.

Wang Zihao looked up, saw Chen Yansen, greeted him, then noticed Song Yuncheng behind him—he muttered to himself but said nothing.

“Brother Sen, let’s go eat dinner together. The new beef noodle shop in the second cafeteria isn’t bad.” Wang Zihao walked over, smiling.

“Next time. I already ate in the city.”

Chen Yansen sat down, leaned back, and pulled out his phone to play. He’d planned to download a new game from the app store, but suddenly spotted a promotional image for MiLiao in the carousel.

MiLiao’s out?

WeChat can’t be far behind!

Chen Yansen didn’t overthink it—he downloaded and installed it immediately, tried it out for a while: voice chat, text and image messages, group chats—all the essential features were there.

This thing was genuinely useful; in 2010, sending a MMS cost 0.5 to 0.9 yuan per message, with a size limit under 100KB—unthinkable a decade later.

Too bad Jun’er launched first but still couldn’t beat WeChat.

Chen Yansen mused silently: if he’d been reborn in 2009, he’d have at least launched CloudChat, FastChat, or FlyChat to curb Little Ma’s arrogance.

Forget it. Let you old-timers have the 3G era. 4G is my domain—I’ll make you scream.

Every era has its big brother. Chen Yansen wanted to be the next one.

“WeChat leverages QQ for traffic and loads QQ contacts—it can expand rapidly. Looks like FoxTao’s Series A funding really can’t ignore Tencent.”

Chen Yansen calculated in his mind.

At that moment, Song Yuncheng realized—everything she’d done with Chen Yansen that afternoon was straight from the “100 Things Couples Must Do” checklist.

Her pale face flushed instantly; she lowered her head, afraid he’d notice.

“Song Yuncheng, you’ll lead the Hangcheng Sijiqing fashion salon next month on the 7th. Zhang Yifeng will be your deputy. Hu Li and Xu Kun will accompany you. Several channel directors from vertical e-commerce platforms will attend—watch for opportunities.”

Chen Yansen spoke suddenly, startling Song Yuncheng.

“Okay. Will you go?” Song Yuncheng steadied herself and asked.

“No.” Chen Yansen shook his head.

This fashion salon was mainly to prepare for next March’s spring collection launch. Seventy percent of FoxTao’s user base is female—focus on high-relevance categories to significantly boost site performance.

Otherwise, selling only low-repurchase items like electronics, appliances, and furniture, FoxTao will go bankrupt eventually.

Furniture, groceries, apparel, and cosmetics are the core categories that sustain an e-commerce company.

For example, JD.com started with only 3C and appliances, then seized the book business from “good brother” Li Guoqing, expanded into food, home goods, and cosmetics, and even got into car accessories.

“Understood.” Song Yuncheng nodded slightly, furrowing her elegant brows as she pondered the salon’s flow, details, and what FoxTao could gain from the event.

Chen Yansen glanced at her, then stood up and left the startup park.

Aside from the fashion salon, once the business development team doubles in size, he’ll send category and BD staff to next year’s alcohol and beverage fair, candy and chocolate festival, cosmetics expo, appliance and digital expo, and more.

First, to understand brand partners’ online needs up close; second, to train these rookies.

Business development isn’t done sitting at a desk—it’s earned step by step. How much growth can you expect locked in an office?

Back in 0418, Chen Yansen washed up and lay on his bed.

Couldn’t sleep, so he sent texts to Meng Jie and Song Yuncheng, telling them to register for MiLiao and go online to chat with him.

“Wow! This app lets you send pictures for free—so awesome!” Meng Jie exclaimed after trying it for a few minutes.

Heh, this is just the beginning—video calls are coming next.

“Send me a photo.” Chen Yansen replied.

“Too little on, hard to take.” Meng Jie shot back instantly.

“I love photos that are hard to take.” Chen Yansen smiled.

“Why did you make me download this app?” Song Yuncheng messaged.

“To keep me company.” Chen Yansen replied.

“I’m working on FoxTao’s PR PPT and the Hangcheng salon plan—no time to chat.” Song Yuncheng declined bluntly.

Chen Yansen checked the time: 9:15 PM. She probably hadn’t left work yet. He thought a moment and replied: “Email me the files—I’ll help you straighten out the logic.”

“Thank you, Master. 😊” Song Yuncheng, relieved, replied. She was good at PR PPTs, but had zero experience with industry forums.

She’d searched Baidu for hours but found almost nothing useful.

“Call me Dad. 😠” Chen Yansen replied.

“...Files sent to your email.” Song Yuncheng muttered quietly at her desk: “Chen Yansen, you’re a pervert. When I make it big, I’ll make you call me Mom.”

The thought popped up unconsciously; she couldn’t help laughing.

Soon after, Chen Yansen replied to her email, restructured the entire plan—Song Yuncheng just needed to fill in content and refine the forum details.

“Send me a photo.” Chen Yansen, after giving advice, boldly demanded his “payment.”

“Thanks, boss. I’m off.” Song Yuncheng grinned, eyes half-lidded, and skipped cheerfully out of the startup park.

“Vibrating—”

Song Yuncheng pulled out her phone, saw Chen Yansen was chasing for a photo. She glanced around, stood under a streetlamp, clicked—“snap”—and sent a selfie.

Chen Yansen opened the image: Song Yuncheng wore her pink down jacket, a soft golden light falling on her cheek, her delicate nose and cherry lips looking especially alluring.

“I won’t look for free—I’ll send you one too.” Chen Yansen, shirtless, snapped a quick photo and sent it.

Song Yuncheng glanced at the photo, burst out laughing, tucked her phone away, blew warm air onto her chilly hands, then headed toward the dormitory.

…

…

Year-end approached; FoxTao was swamped.

New Year’s Day had three days off—couldn’t keep everyone at the startup park on duty just for the Super Recharge event.

So the BD and category teams were under huge pressure—they had to set up three days of brand group promotions in advance, a massive workload.

Xu Dan was busy recruiting for the customer service team and conducting initial interviews for BD and category hires.

Chen Yansen had little to do—he prepared to tackle Zhang Hanhua, figured out his partnership channels, first talked to Tencent’s Liang Youzhi, then, through a third party, found a vendor Zhang Hanhua had cut off.

A mature plan was quickly put into motion.

Though last week’s fake alcohol incident seemed unrelated to Zhang Hanhua, maybe he hadn’t been exposed yet—Chen Yansen didn’t want a hostile figure lurking behind him.

Crush him first, worry later!

After arranging everything, Chen Yansen felt at ease, stood up, and prepared to attend the Business School’s New Year’s Eve party.

“Zihao, hold down the fort at the banquet—I’ll be there with Meng Jie after 7.”

Before leaving, Chen Yansen specifically instructed.

“Sure thing. Wenbo and Pengfei said you’re not around, everyone’s more relaxed.” Wang Zihao elbowed Zhang Wenbo, teasing.

“Brother Sen, I swear I didn’t say that!” Zhang Wenbo waved his hands frantically, denying it.

“Brother Sen, you know me—I’ve always respected you the most!” Xiang Pengfei chuckled, buttering him up.

“Shoo, shoo!”

Chen Yansen had no patience to waste on them—he cursed lightly, got in his BMW 750, and drove straight to the Business School auditorium.

Walking backstage, he spotted Meng Jie from afar.

Her makeup was flawless, her eyes bright and clear, wearing blue contact lenses that made her look enchanting; her curled short hair added a playful charm.

She wore a blue strapless chiffon dress, her pearl necklace catching the light—completely transformed from her look six months ago.

“Dressed so little? Aren’t you cold?” Chen Yansen stepped forward, took her small hand, and spoke gently.

Meng Jie’s hand was tiny, soft, and warm.

“I’ve stuck hot packs all over my dress—I’m fine.” Meng Jie smiled back.

“Really? Let me check.” Chen Yansen pretended to lift her skirt.

“Stop it! I’ve arranged with the host—we go on at 6:30, so I can leave half an hour early.” Meng Jie stepped back.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you in the auditorium.” Chen Yansen smiled, chatted with her a bit, then headed toward the auditorium.

The Business School had many majors and lots of freshmen—Chen Yansen entered to find no empty seats. He didn’t care, just leaned against the wall.

A girl beside him, wearing glasses, glanced at him from the corner of her eye—her eyes lit up instantly.

After a moment’s hesitation, she approached him: “Classmate, do you want this seat?”

“Really?” Chen Yansen smiled back.

Seeing his mischievous grin, she thought he was impossibly handsome, jumped up immediately: “I’m meeting a friend for a movie—I’m leaving right away.”

“Thanks. This seat’s perfect—I can photograph my girlfriend.” Chen Yansen emphasized.

Girlfriend?

The glasses girl felt disappointed, almost blurted: “Bro, maybe you should just stand.”

Chen Yansen ignored her, pulled out his phone, chatted with Song Yuncheng, and waited for Meng Jie’s performance.

After three acts, Meng Jie finally took the stage with a microphone.

“Stars like tears, unspoken longing turns into dark circles; months of passion shattered by a cold snap.”

“...”

“You’re in my room like a slideshow, spreading in my eyes, on my phone, on my laptop—impossible to cut off...”

Meng Jie’s voice was beautiful; she delivered the song with 70–80% accuracy, and as a naturally energetic girl, she drew a wave of male attention.

Over ten minutes later, Meng Jie changed clothes and walked out with Chen Yansen.

“Meng Jie, you were stunning tonight. This flower’s for you.”

As they stepped out of the auditorium, a boy rushed over, holding a bouquet of roses.

Meng Jie froze, embarrassed—her boyfriend was right beside her.

This guy is such a nuisance—she’s turned him down hundreds of times, and yet he shows up without so much as a warning to deliver flowers.

I clearly told him I have a boyfriend—how did he even get into university with such poor comprehension?

“Oh, tulips and roses? Buddy, you’ve got good taste. Thanks.”

Without a word, Chen Yansen snatched the roses from his hands.

“Who the hell are you?” the guy stammered, staring at his empty hands and shouting in disbelief.

“Senior He, he’s my boyfriend.” Meng Jie’s words utterly crushed the boy’s hopes.

The boy lowered his head, his face flushed red.

Meng Jie had used this excuse before to reject him, but he’d never seen Chen Yansen come to the Business School to look for her—he’d thought it was just an excuse. If he’d known this was real, he never would’ve come here to make a fool of himself.

“Dude, these flowers really smell good!”

Chen Yansen swayed the bouquet slightly and said, with devastating precision.

The boy let out a startled “Ah!” and fled in shame, vanishing in an instant.

“You’re such a jerk,” Meng Jie laughed uncontrollably.

“Here, for you,” Chen Yansen said, passing the flowers to Meng Jie as if offering a gift.

“I don’t want flowers someone else bought—I want flowers you bought,” Meng Jie said, hiding her hands behind her back.

“Silly girl, wouldn’t it be better to save the money and buy you a real gift? That guy’s an idiot—throwing away these flowers would be a waste. Let him feel like he had some part in it.” Chen Yansen grinned mischievously.

Too bad the guy left so soon—if he’d heard that, he might’ve jumped straight into Pearl Lake on the spot.

“You’re utterly terrible,” Meng Jie giggled.

“Let’s go—Zihao’s waiting.” Chen Yansen took Meng Jie’s hand, and they got into the car, heading toward the city center.

Meanwhile, the venture capital firms that had previously visited for due diligence all received FoxTao’s Q3 operational and financial reports.

In October, average daily active users: 167,000; average daily orders: 25,000; average daily sales: 810,000 yuan; monthly gross profit: 3.57 million yuan;

In November, average daily active users: 613,000; average daily orders: 104,000; average daily sales: 4 million yuan; monthly gross profit: 15.6 million yuan;

In December, average daily active users: 1,024,000; average daily orders: 207,000; average daily sales: 13.8 million yuan; monthly gross profit: 67.2 million yuan.

Although Chen Yansen didn’t disclose operating expenses, FoxTao had fewer than 100 employees total; even accounting for advertising costs, the net profit margin was at least 50%.

Could guide-based e-commerce really be this profitable?

Originally, VCs had valued FoxTao at a maximum of 700 million or 800 million yuan; after seeing this report, their valuation immediately surged past 1.5 billion yuan.

(End of Chapter)