Chapter 96: A-Round Financing of 5.6 Billion, Again Rejects Pony

January 14, Platinum Manor Hotel, Shanghai, top-floor banquet hall.

Chen Yansen, accompanied by Wang Zihao, Song Yuncheng, and financial and legal staff, reviewed every detail of the investment agreement, shareholder agreement, equity transfer agreement, and employee stock option plan throughout the morning; finding no objections, he signed his name and stamped it with Senhai Technology’s official seal.

Twenty percent equity for 560 million yuan—a valuation of 2.8 billion!

Once this news spread, the entire e-commerce industry would erupt.

Chen Yansen shook hands with each of the three investors, exchanged brief pleasantries, and thought to himself: “I’ve barely reached half of what I had in my last life—so my rebirth wasn’t in vain.”

“Chief Chen, congratulations! With this capital, Fox Tao will surely achieve a qualitative leap in talent recruitment, market promotion, and technological upgrades.”

Zhang Jiancheng shook Chen Yansen’s hand and offered his congratulations.

His words subtly reminded Chen that the funds must be used as stipulated in the investment agreement.

Young entrepreneurs often get blinded by money, using financing to buy cars or houses, or setting up third-party companies to siphon off venture capital.

“Thank you, Chief Zhang, for your trust.”

Chen Yansen caught the subtext but didn’t mind.

After sensing his disinterest in Letian and SIG, they immediately dropped SIG and teamed up with IDG Venture Capital to successfully secure Fox Tao ’s Series A funding.

Decisive, ruthless, without morals or boundaries—someone like this would achieve great things.

“Chief Chen, could we speak privately?”

At that moment, Liu Zhiping stepped forward and interjected.

Zhang Jiancheng smiled faintly, politely excusing himself to give Liu Zhiping time alone.

He was just an investment manager—he could put on airs in front of young founders, but Liu Zhiping was a true heavyweight.

He couldn’t afford to offend him.

“Thanks, Martin, if not for Tencent’s backing, IDG and Thinking Capital couldn’t have bid 2.8 billion.” Chen Yansen lowered his voice.

“The higher the Series A valuation, the better Pony’s vision proves to be. If you weren’t capable, even my highest bid would be meaningless. Sen, you’re truly impressive.”

Liu Zhiping nodded, switching to a more familiar term of address.

The two left the banquet hall and entered a conference room. At a business hotel like Platinum Manor, all commercial needs were anticipated—on the same floor, besides the conference room, there was also a multimedia hall capable of holding fifty people.

“Pony wants you to take over Paipai.com.” As soon as they sat down, Liu Zhiping got straight to the point.

“Martin, I already said—I don’t want to work for anyone.” Chen Yansen smiled faintly and firmly declined.

If Ma Wenteng wanted to join Fox Tao , Chen Yansen would consider giving him a customer service position.

But working for Pony? Forget it.

“Don’t refuse so fast! Before coming here, Pony specifically told me: if you join Tencent, Paipai.com can operate independently, with full authority over all operations. A salary of thirty million per year, plus two hundred million yuan in stock options.”

Liu Zhiping spoke with complete confidence.

Such terms could easily sway Zhang Xiaolong—let alone Chen Yansen.

Chen Yansen paused, surprised by Ma Wenteng’s determination in e-commerce; after a moment’s thought, he understood: WeChat, Ma Wenteng’s bet on a Tier-0 application, hadn’t launched yet.

Desperate to complete Tencent’s ecosystem, Ma Wenteng wouldn’t easily abandon the e-commerce sector.

Two hundred million in stock options?

Remember, in 2011, Tencent’s market cap was nowhere near its peak—if Chen Yansen accepted, he could cash out at its peak ten years later and earn at least eight billion.

This was wealth beyond anything Chen Yansen had ever seen in two lifetimes!

“Martin, sorry, but please tell Pony for me—I have no interest in Paipai.com, and I don’t want to join Tencent to work in e-commerce.”

Chen Yansen took a deep breath and still declined.

Liu Zhiping frowned, surprise flashing in his eyes. “Don’t think the difference between two hundred million in options and Fox Tao ’s 2.8 billion valuation is huge. You know the ceiling of the guide-e-commerce model. Don’t be fooled by Zhang Yong and Liu Qiangdong’s current posture—they need guide-e-commerce. But if they team up to crush Fox Tao , how much of that 2.8 billion valuation will be left?”

Chen Yansen smiled. He thought: This is what a true heavyweight sees—so far ahead.

In fact, in his past life, Ali had announced new alliance rules in 2016: all sales generated through guide websites would no longer count toward Taobao’s monthly figures.

Liu Qiangdong was even harsher—he outright called guide websites worthless, mere highwaymen.

From then on, guide-e-commerce collapsed—either shift to self-operated models, or struggle helplessly.

In short, these platforms grew too comfortable, too dependent on domestic e-commerce giants, and ended up in this predicament. Had they pivoted early by integrating overseas shopping sites, they wouldn’t have been so vulnerable.

Chen Yansen had witnessed the decade-long golden age of e-commerce—he’d long been wary of Ma Liyun and Liu Qiangdong.

He never planned to stick with Fox Tao forever—just another one or two years, then find a fool to take over and cash out.

“I understand the value of those two hundred million options, and I’m capable of handling policy shifts in domestic e-commerce.”

Chen Yansen replied with confidence.

“You’ve put me in a tough spot. Yesterday, before leaving, I swore to Pony I’d get you into Tencent.”

Liu Zhiping sighed with regret, a bitter smile on his face.

He knew Chen Yansen’s style—this refusal wasn’t a negotiation tactic to inflate his value; he genuinely didn’t want to join Tencent.

“Tencent is already a major shareholder of Fox Tao . That’s another way of working for Chief Ma, isn’t it?”

Chen Yansen joked to ease the awkwardness.

“With a giant company behind you, you’ll get unimaginable funding and tech resources—why waste precious time?” Liu Zhiping couldn’t help asking again.

If it were him, he’d join Tencent without hesitation.

“A man—even if he fails a hundred times—must succeed once. I don’t want people saying my achievements came from investors, not my own ability.”

Chen Yansen paused, then repeated words he’d spoken in his past life.

“Come to Shenzhen sometime—I’ll treat you to tea,” Liu Zhiping said, standing, his tone calm.

Since they couldn’t reach an agreement, there was no point wasting more time.

“Martin, let me see you off.” Chen Yansen followed behind, walking him all the way downstairs.

Then he turned and went back upstairs.

The three investment firms and Fox Tao still had a small press conference, followed by dinner. Liu Zhiping had left, but the schedule had to proceed as planned.

At 1:30 p.m., Tencent News homepage featured the headline: “Fox Tao Completes 560-Million-Yuan Financing, Valued at 2.8 Billion.”

Upon seeing the news, Fox Tao ’s team erupted in cheers on the second floor of the startup park.

In the office, Tang Qingshan pondered for the first time: entering Fox Tao in March’s university startup competition? That’s outright bullying!

In Chunshen, Chen Guobin stared at the news on his phone, lost in thought—numb now.

Soon after, the three major portals and Weibo all reported and reposted the story.

“IDG Leads, Tencent and Thinking Capital Follow: How Huge Is the Potential of Guide-E-Commerce?”

“Less Than Six Months Since Founding, Core Team All Students—19-Year-Old Business Genius Builds a Unicorn?”

“Leader of Guide-E-Commerce: Copycats Flood In—How Does Fox Tao Build Its Moat?”

Mushroom Street, which should have been founded in February 2011, had rushed into the guide-e-commerce market a month early.

Meilishuo, founded in November 2009, also announced a business adjustment that day, launching a merchant recruitment plan and branded flash-sale channels.

Suddenly, the guide-e-commerce model became the industry’s hottest trend.

At dinner, Zhang Jiancheng asked: “Chief Chen, what do you think of Mushroom Street and Meilishuo’s business shifts?”

“Guide-e-commerce seems to have a very low barrier to entry—but in reality, it’s extremely hard to do well. Not just anyone can pull it off.”

Chen Yansen sneered dismissively.

Copycats following suit was good—there were hundreds of millions of internet users in China, growing by 100–200 million each year. Even though Fox Tao had over forty million registered users, over 90% of users still doubted the rebate model and hadn’t signed up.

Mushroom Street and Meilishuo’s moves would help Fox Tao cultivate the market and educate users; once these users became familiar with guide-e-commerce, they’d naturally seek out the industry leader.

All Chen Yansen needed to do was buy traffic on one hand and secure merchant resources on the other—to become the ultimate winner in this industry.

Zhang Jiancheng, Lin Chenfeng from Tencent’s venture capital team, and the IDG representative, seeing his confidence, felt reassured.

The dinner gradually ended by 8:30 p.m.

“I’m heading back to Xucheng tomorrow,” Wang Zihao said. Though Xucheng College had already broken for winter vacation, the project team still needed to operate.

These eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds had, for the first time, felt the hardship of being employees—no more winter or summer breaks.

“What about you?” Chen Yansen asked Song Yuncheng.

“I need to go back to my hometown—I’ll return to Xucheng around the 16th,” Song Yuncheng said softly, tightening her shirt collar.

“Lucheng? Did you buy your ticket?” Chen Yansen asked casually.

“I did,” Song Yuncheng replied, head down. She’d been so busy preparing funding materials she hadn’t bought a ticket; by the time she remembered, all tickets were sold out after students went home for winter break.

She planned to try her luck at the long-distance bus station tomorrow.

“Then go rest early,” Chen Yansen said, glancing at his watch and noticing her pale face, urging her.

Everyone was staying at Platinum Manor Hotel.

Chen Yansen returned to his room, stared out at the glittering night view, and fell into thought.

He had two years before 4G and smartphones became ubiquitous.

What was Lei Jun doing now? Preparing for the Mi 1 phone?

What about Zhang Yiming? Probably still running his 99 Rooms.

Huang Zheng of Pinduoduo? Probably still working at Google.

“I’m not bad either! Compared to them, Jun’er has more money—but is he better-looking than me?”

Chen Yansen chuckled to himself, already imagining his future cash-out moment:

“Back then, I was nineteen, and my account held a cold 4 billion.”

(End of Chapter)