Chapter 99

These 20 million stock options are meant to attract skilled engineers and ensure team stability.

In another two or three years, startups offering stock options to employees will no longer be novel.

After Mushroom Street and Meilishuo launch, they’ll likely poach talent from category and merchant recruitment roles; Chen Yansen’s move lets him retain core members while raising competitors’ poaching costs.

For people like Yuan Wei, Zhang Yifeng, Chen Xu, and Hu Li, he plans to grant stock options worth 500,000 yuan each.

If other companies want to poach them, they’ll have to spend an extra 500,000 yuan out of thin air—or no one will switch.

Everyone from customer service to team leaders gets stock options, unlocked in four installments over two years, with 25% vesting every six months.

That means to claim all the options, you must stay at Fox Tao for at least two more years.

After the meeting, Chen Yansen kept Yuan Wei and Zhang Yifeng behind, sized them up, then announced: “Starting in February, your base salary rises to 4,500 yuan. You’re now team leaders of the merchant recruitment group. New hires will be randomly assigned to your teams.”

Yuan Wei and Zhang Yifeng exchanged a glance, then excitedly said: “Thank you, Sen-ge.”

Yuan Wei, with several years of work experience, instantly understood Chen Yansen’s intent—his heart tightened, and he warned himself to be more careful; Chen Yansen wasn’t a boss easily fooled.

“Go.”

Chen Yansen waved them off.

The merchant recruitment group currently has 26 people and has had no leader—this was intentional, to make them compete; competition breeds drive.

Promoting and raising Yuan Wei and Zhang Yifeng’s salaries also signals to other recruiters: perform well, and you’ll get a chance to become team leader.

After finishing work, Chen Yansen took the draft stock option agreement to Teacher Wang Jing for review, checking for legal compliance and omissions.

By 4:30 p.m., Chen Yansen emerged from Wang Jing’s office, sent the revised document to Xu Dan, and instructed her to proceed: print the agreements, distribute them to Fox Tao members for signatures, then hand them over to finance.

Walking along Xuelin Road, Chen Yansen sent a message to Meng Jie, mentally planning Fox Tao ’s final event before the New Year—the Home Decoration Festival on January 18.

The event covers kitchen and bathroom goods, major appliances, sanitary ware, lighting, and furniture; 70 merchants joined the brand group, offering over 500 flash-sale items.

Although these products have lower commission rates than cosmetics and food, the event attracted big brands like Hongxing Home, FOTILE, Schneider, TOTO, and Submarine.

As soon as the preheat page launched, clicks surged past 100,000—ad revenue alone earned 800,000 yuan.

“Xu Dan needs to hire two more event operators. Even though Fox Tao primarily runs productized channels, seasonal and category-specific events can’t be skipped.” Chen Yansen paused at the intersection, thinking to himself.

“What are you thinking about?”

At that moment, Meng Jie walked up, tiptoed, and tapped Chen Yansen’s shoulder.

“Thinking of you.” Chen Yansen snapped back, smiling as he wrapped his arm around Meng Jie’s, and the two “brothers” walked toward the school gate together.

The next morning, Xu Dan walked into the conference room carrying a thick stack of documents.

From Song Yuncheng onward, each agreement had three copies: one for the employee, one for the company, and one archived by the venture capital firm.

“100,000 shares?”

Song Yuncheng flipped open the stock option agreement, saw the number in the options column, and his face filled with shock.

“You’re Fox Tao ’s employee #1, you designed the brand image, you’ve served as head of design, customer service, and operations, and you brought in 13 B2C platforms for the project team…” Xu Dan listed Song Yuncheng’s contributions and achievements one by one.

Based on the Series A valuation, Fox Tao ’s total equity is 500 million shares, each valued at 5.6 yuan; if sold at a future high, these 100,000 shares are worth at least 560,000 yuan.

If the Series B valuation rises, the option value will rise too.

“25% vests every six months. If you leave mid-term, the company may repurchase your vested options, or it may wait until Series B funding or an IPO to open a repurchase window,” Xu Dan continued.

“I understand.” Song Yuncheng signed without hesitation.

Next came Zhang Wenbo, Xiang Pengfei, Meng Xibo, and others.

Their option quantities varied, but all were at least 30,000 shares; some had up to 100,000.

The general principle: category roles get more than merchant recruitment, team leaders get more than regular recruiters, customer service gets the least—but everyone gets at least 5,000 shares, worth 20,000 to 30,000 yuan.

The next day at 10 a.m., Fox Tao ’s first Home Decoration Festival went live.

First-day sales: 6.7 million yuan, average order value: 890 yuan, 7,520 orders, over 70% from returning customers.

These loyal users were already accustomed to the Super Cashback model and fully trusted Fox Tao ’s product selection and price comparison; from electric kettles to color TVs and refrigerators, there was nothing they wouldn’t buy.

These longtime users were already accustomed to the Super Cashback model and fully trusted Fox Tao ’s product selection and price-comparison abilities, buying everything from electric kettles to color TVs and refrigerators without hesitation.

Day three sales: 2.3 million yuan.

Over the three-day event, total sales reached 15.3 million yuan, gross profit 1.84 million yuan—making Zhang Yifeng and Yuan Wei so happy they told everyone they’d treat everyone to dinner after the New Year.

They split gross profit by store; each had nearly a million yuan in performance.

At the highest 5% commission rate, just this one event earned each of them close to 50,000 yuan in commissions—add their regular brand group sales, and earning 100,000 yuan a month wasn’t hard.

This sent the other recruiters into a frenzy; their eyes gleamed like wolf cubs, working from dawn till dusk.

Some merchants were factory-run, their workers on holiday—but recruiters still pressured bosses to submit Spring Festival pre-sale deals, squeezing every last hour of scheduling.

A week later, on New Year’s Eve, Fox Tao officially shut down for the holiday.

Chen Yansen was just about to return to Room 0418 to pack when he saw Song Yuncheng push a small box toward him.

“What’s this?” Chen Yansen asked.

“Birthday gift.” Song Yuncheng whispered, afraid others might hear.

Chen Yansen’s birthday was February 4, right during the Spring Festival, so Song Yuncheng had sent the gift early.

She dared not skip it—after all, she’d once used Chen Yansen’s computer for an interview, and he’d specifically reminded her.

Chen Yansen smiled, opened the box, and found a black MCM wallet—worth just over 1,000 yuan.

“So extravagant? You not planning to live anymore?” Chen Yansen teased.

“If you don’t want it, give it back—I can still return it within seven days for a full refund.” Song Yuncheng extended her hand.

“I like robbing the broke.” Chen Yansen pulled out his old wallet, dumped all cards, documents, and cash into the new one.

“Here, take this.” Chen Yansen tossed the old wallet to Song Yuncheng.

“Then, happy New Year in advance,” Song Yuncheng said, sitting in her seat, hesitating, lips pressed together.

“If you miss me, message me.” Chen Yansen reminded her.

Song Yuncheng stared at him, silent.

Chen Yansen grabbed his laptop, turned, and walked downstairs, driving to the faculty apartment building.

Chen Yansen picked up his laptop, turned, and went downstairs, driving the car to the foot of the faculty apartment building.

Chen Yansen sat in the back of a BMW 750, laughing and chatting with Meng Jie, while Wang Zihao drove.

The three sped toward Chunshen.

“Holy shit! Am I invisible? Just watching you two feed each other sugar is enough to make me full—I don’t even need lunch.”

Wang Zihao glared at them, loudly complaining.

“Zihao, I heard you’re chasing your teacher. Bold move.” Meng Jie leaned against Chen Yansen, teasing.

“I’m not! I’m not! Don’t listen to Sen-ge—he’s lying. I’m just a student-teacher relationship with Teacher Liu.” Wang Zihao hurried to defend himself.

“I didn’t! I’m not! Don’t listen to Sen-ge’s nonsense—I’m just a pure student-teacher to Teacher Liu.” Wang Zihao hurriedly protested.

Chen Yansen sneered, too lazy to expose Wang Zihao’s scheme; ever since Liu Muyan lost her fiancé, Wang Zihao had been constantly “studying” with her, asking after her health—his intentions were obvious.

Chen Yansen sneered, too lazy to expose Wang Zihao; ever since Liu Muyan lost her fiancé, Wang Zihao had been feigning study visits to shower her with concern, his hidden intentions glaringly obvious.

His phone suddenly rang in his pocket. Chen Yansen pulled it out—it wasn’t Song Yuncheng. He answered: “What is it?”

“Chen Zong, Liu Wei, Cai Yuhao, and I started a game studio—we want you to invest, hehe.” Liu Wei explained with a grin.

They’d briefly met in Shanghai last time; only later did they learn Fox Tao raised nearly 600 million yuan in Series A, valued near 3 billion yuan.

They’d thought Chen Yansen was a scammer—turns out he was a real big boss.

They had some savings, but game development was too expensive—even if they didn’t pay themselves, they needed computers, drawing tablets, monitors, external hard drives. After discussing, they came to Chen Yansen.

After all, Chen Yansen had previously promised to invest in them.

“How much?” Chen Yansen didn’t ask more—he agreed immediately.

MiHaYou had few funding rounds; investing now was a sure win—he couldn’t pass up this chance.

“Chen Zong, you’re serious?” Liu Wei froze. They’d prepared a week’s worth of business plans and game development proposals—yet he hadn’t even listened before agreeing. This was too smooth.

“Should I say no first, wait for you to bring a polished business plan, then say yes?” Chen Yansen joked.

“No need!” Liu Wei quickly refused—he heard the implication, laughing nervously.

“Alright, name a number. Draft the equity transfer agreement. I’ll have my lawyer contact you.”

Chen Yansen said calmly.

MiHaYou’s future peak valuation could hit 200 billion—but right now, it was just a tiny workshop. Knowing Liu Wei and Cai Yuhao, they’d ask for a few million at most—that was their limit.

“Two million? We’ll give you 10% equity.” Liu Wei ventured cautiously.

Cai Yuhao, Luo Chenghao, and Jin Zhicheng stood around Liu Wei, holding their breath, waiting for Chen Yansen’s reply.

“20%.” Chen Yansen replied.

He had money, but wasn’t stupid—MiHaYou, just founded, wasn’t worth 20 million.

Liu Wei held the phone, exchanged glances with his partners.

Cai Yuhao shook his head; Luo Chenghao signaled him to accept; Jin Zhicheng mouthed: “15%.”

“Chen Zong, we can only give you 15%. Otherwise, we’d rather find another investor.” Liu Wei paused, then said seriously.

“Fine, 15%.” Chen Yansen didn’t haggle.

After brief pleasantries, Chen Yansen hung up and immediately called Sun Tongbo.

Sun Tongbo was Wang Jing’s classmate, one of the lawyers who helped bail people out last time.

“Mr. Chen, for commercial contracts, I charge 5,000 yuan per case.” Sun Tongbo, following professional habit, quoted his fee first.

“No problem. Please handle this for me, Lawyer Sun.” Chen Yansen knew you got what you paid for—Sun Tongbo worked at Tiancheng Law Firm, one of Shanghai’s top ten law firms; he was worth it.

“Understood. I’ll update you promptly on developments.” Sun Tongbo replied.

Chen Yansen gave a few more details on the contract terms, then put down his phone.

Chen Yansen reiterated a few details about the contract, then put down his phone.

“Brother Sen, you’re investing in a game studio?” Wang Zihao, having caught the gist, asked curiously.

“A few graduate students from Shanghai Jiao Tong University—I think their game design concepts are pretty good,” Chen Yansen lied offhand.

But inside, he was calculating: he needed to set up another investment firm, transfer the shares of Yunsu and Mihayou under its name—using his personal name wasn’t suitable, and putting them under Senhai was even worse.

Wang Zihao didn’t dwell on it, shifting the topic to who in their class was organizing a Spring Festival gathering.

“Brother Sen, are you going?”

“Who goes to class reunions, seriously? Are you going?” Chen Yansen shot back.

“I’m a serious person,” Wang Zihao grinned, clearly not planning to go either.

(End of chapter)