Chapter 519: Boiling a Frog in Warm Water

Yao Yao Luoying, as female chairperson of Ling Feiyang Technology, led the company to go public—a feat that, whether in mainland China, Hong Kong, Japan, Singapore, or even America, placed her at the pinnacle of female corporate executives.

Moreover, Yao Yao Luoying had seen Li Li Dongling's plans for Ling Feiyang Technology and Himalaya's future; over the next few years, both companies would undergo further transformation, consuming even more energy and leaving little to no bandwidth for anything else.

Everyone's choices in life differ, and each choice leads to a different outcome.

Yao Yao Luoying was not the type of career addict; she did not wish to expend all her time and energy on this path.

Besides, Yao Yao Luoying had self-awareness: Ling Feiyang Technology and Himalaya Radio would soon expand rapidly; she was already struggling to manage Ling Feiyang Technology as it was, let alone after further expansion—retiring while ahead might well be the best choice.

"As you wish, Queen of the Internet!"

Li Li Dongling smiled and pinched her nose; upon hearing the title, Yao Yao Luoying couldn't help but roll her eyes at him in exasperation.

"Queen of the Internet" was a new moniker bestowed upon Yao Yao Luoying by Barron's; in Silicon Valley, there wasn't even a shadow of a female chairperson, making her stand out starkly.

This crown of "Queen of the Internet" once belonged to Morgan analyst Mary Meeker, Google's Sheryl Sandberg, and others—but now it rested on Yao Yao Luoying's head, earning her the media's title as the first-generation Queen of the Internet.

After all, Himalaya Radio was now the leader of the internet industry, and Ling Feiyang Technology had gone public as an internet company—its identity was established, its performance undeniable; why shouldn't Yao Yao Luoying wear this crown?

Yao Yao Luoying was washing up in the villa's bathroom while Li Li Dongling reviewed several Ling Feiyang Technology documents; this trip to America had three main objectives: first, to find supporters and take Ling Feiyang Technology public.

This goal was already 70–80% complete; as long as Ling Feiyang Technology itself didn't suffer a major setback, with Sequoia Capital and Citigroup's backing, a Nasdaq listing was a foregone conclusion.

For this round of financing, Ling Feiyang Technology sold a total of 28% equity to Citigroup, Sequoia Capital, Netscape, and Yahoo; Li Dongling High-Tech's direct stake in Ling Feiyang Technology now stood at 40%.

But of this 40%, some shares would be publicly issued, some handed over to Digital Harbor, and a portion distributed to domestic firms like Hanxi State Investment; after listing, Li Dongling High-Tech's stake in Ling Feiyang Technology was projected to be around 22%.

Although Ling Feiyang Technology's equity was now more dispersed, Li Dongling High-Tech would remain its largest shareholder after listing.

Additionally, Yao Yao Luoying, Ren Ren Yuefeng, and other Li Dongling High-Tech executives holding Ling Feiyang Technology shares—including Digital Harbor—all transferred their voting rights to Li Dongling High-Tech, eliminating any risk of losing control.

The equity sold off effectively established an alliance of interests in America; in the future, Sequoia Capital, Citigroup, Yahoo, Netscape, and others would stand firmly behind Ling Feiyang Technology and rally to its defense if anyone targeted it.

Short-sellers like Huoshui would need to consider whether their teeth were strong enough before attempting to short Ling Feiyang Technology—otherwise, they might not even get a bite, only to shatter their own jaws.

Moreover, Ling Feiyang Technology's equity was now distributed among Li Dongling High-Tech, Digital Harbor, and Zhixing Foundation, making cash-out easier and less conspicuous; if Li Dongling High-Tech tried to cash out directly at the start, retail investors would flee—but by using companies like Digital Harbor to cash out gradually, like slowly boiling a frog, it would be less likely to scare them off.

Still, Ling Feiyang Technology was not entirely safe; it faced numerous challengers in hardware and software; many companies were now studying it under a microscope; if it became complacent, it would inevitably be replaced.

Going forward, Ling Feiyang Technology must maintain its mini-radio business; these devices will keep shrinking in size while growing in functionality; though a sunset industry, it could sustain itself for another ten to twenty years without issue.

While stabilizing mini-radios and multi-functional emergency radios, it must also rapidly launch car-grade radios and audio equipment to enter the massive automotive audio market; global automotive industry growth will remain strong for two to three decades; if Ling Feiyang Technology can establish a foothold here, reaping profits for over a decade won't be a problem.

Ling Feiyang Technology's future hardware plans center on mini-radios and automotive audio systems; its software plans focus on internet radio and the future music platform.

If both hardware and software businesses succeed, Ling Feiyang Technology will be fully formed, with little future upheaval; it will enjoy the dividends of the automotive industry and the internet music platform, ensuring a prosperous future.

In the years ahead, extracting returns from Nasdaq investors for ten to twenty years—no, creating ten to twenty years of value for investors—shouldn't be a problem.

Putting down the documents, Li Li Dongling rubbed his cheeks; since arriving in America, he'd been tense—but now he could finally relax a little.

Besides Ling Feiyang Technology, the other two objectives were also progressing, with some progress already made; after finalizing these matters and attending Yahoo's listing at month's end, he would return home in early next month.

Li Li Dongling had been away for months; back home, a mountain of tasks awaited him—not just internal matters at Li Dongling High-Tech, but also numerous issues at Torch Group and other companies requiring his final approval.

The second objective of this trip to America was to recruit a chairperson to lead the upcoming Dongxin Semiconductor chip manufacturing base back home.

The third objective also concerned Dongxin Semiconductor: its MIPS-architecture chip required Microsoft's system support; Li Li Dongling hoped to forge an alliance between Microsoft and Dongxin Semiconductor's chip.

Only then could computers equipped with Dongxin chips avoid being confined to domestic isolation and enter overseas markets; only with enough users of Dongxin-chip computers could the chip survive.

In the past, China's first domestic computer chip, Loongson, remained a "backup option" for a long time; any company or project needing a chip would avoid Loongson unless absolutely desperate.

A major reason was Microsoft's operating system didn't support Loongson, meaning no software could run on it.

Only after a domestic operating system emerged—no matter how clunky—did Loongson's prospects improve.

Li Li Dongling knew relying on Microsoft or similar companies to survive was risky; given American companies' tendency to stab allies in the back, they'd turn on Dongxin at any moment.

But in the short term, Dongxin Semiconductor needed Microsoft's support; only by surviving could it plan further; once established in the chip and computer industries, it could secretly ally with Jinshan to develop its own operating system.

If Microsoft ever betrayed Dongxin Semiconductor, Li Dongling High-Tech would simply launch its own OS and challenge it head-on—though that was likely over a decade away.

Still, it's better to be cautious and prepare early; just as Hisilicon, once merely a pet of Huawei, eventually rose to become the main house.

For now, Li Li Dongling's priority was securing Microsoft's support; convincing Microsoft to develop an OS version compatible with Dongxin's chip would demand a steep price.

…

On a business jet bound for New York, Li Li Dongling, Yao Yao Luoying, Zhou Zhou Hualiang, and Larson were all aboard.

This jet had been chartered by Zhou Zhou Hualiang; flight attendants flitted through the cabin like butterflies, eager to showcase their charm to this elite clientele.

Clients who charter private jets are rarely low-net-worth; this time, the crew had heard there was a major investor among them.

For these tall, attractive flight attendants, the chance to meet a big investor was not to be missed.

Crew members at American airlines differed entirely from those elsewhere; many were middle-aged women, some having served for thirty or forty years.

Sometimes on American flights, you'd see middle-aged men and women working as crew—not retired, but newly hired; many came from police, fire departments, nursing, or teaching, having retired or lost their jobs before joining airlines.

Why? Because it's cheaper. America is a country of flyers; air travel is heavily used, and most Americans fly economy—not everyone can afford first class.

For American airlines, the goal is to slash costs; especially on economy flights, profit comes from passenger volume—the more bodies crammed in, the better; crew pay must be kept as low as possible.

So, is it cheaper to hire a retired or unemployed middle-aged employee, or a young, attractive, tall flight attendant? Which job is more stable? Clearly, the former—those willing to work like beasts for their families and children—were more reliable.

Many young, beautiful flight attendants chose to join private jet crews; these jets served high-net-worth clients who were willing to pay for premium service—after all, those who spent big to charter a jet didn't want to be served by a middle-aged woman.

For young flight attendants on private jets, if they could befriend a big investor, become lovers, or even marry into a wealthy family, that was ideal; even if they didn't marry in, a romantic fling ending in a large severance payment was still worthwhile.

Larson, pretending to read a magazine, watched another flight attendant—wearing a uniform shorter than standard—walk past him again, and muttered, "Damn, someday I'm buying my own jet and hiring these girls as crew!"

"Li, do you need me to handle your private jet?"

Larson put down his magazine and asked Li Li Dongling, who was quietly talking with Zhou Zhou Hualiang, giving him a knowing look any man would understand.

Li Li Dongling planned to order a private jet; it would make travel easier—not just for him, but also for Li Dongling High-Tech executives needing urgent trips.

Hearing Larson's remark, Li Li Dongling glanced at Yao Yao Luoying beside him; he knew exactly what Larson was hinting at—trying to arrange "special" flight attendants for the private jet. Yao Yao Luoying seemed uninterested, but Li Li Dongling noticed her ears had perked up.

Buying a private jet is expensive, but the real cost lies in storage, maintenance, insurance, fuel, and crew salaries—these recurring expenses over a few years equal the price of a new jet.

But you must pay; without a full professional crew, would you fly it yourself? Risking your life for a hobby?

Maintenance and inspections must be done before every flight—no step can be skipped; otherwise, you're playing with your life.

After spending so much, if you don't hire a few "qualified" flight attendants to serve on your private jet, isn't the money wasted?

"Li, if you need it, I can handle it—American CEOs and founders all register their private jets under their companies," Larson offered, feigning goodwill.

Ling Feiyang Technology had just secured massive funding; by agreement, this money was meant for the company's use, not for major shareholders to siphon off.

But if you really wanted to manipulate it, there were plenty of ways to extract the funds—for example, having Ling Feiyang Technology buy a private jet or villa, then sell it back to Li Li Dongling at the same price.

Then came the clever moves: Li Li Dongling would buy the jet, then lease it back to Ling Feiyang Technology, making the company bear all subsequent costs—while Li Li Dongling retained full usage rights to the jet, villa, yacht, etc.

In the past, Silicon Valley's internet founders, after securing massive VC funding, went on wild spending sprees; though investment agreements had usage rules, they were all circumvented through clever maneuvers to cash out.

Larson's remark was, in fact, an implicit offer: if Li Li Dongling wanted, he could legally and openly, under U. S. federal law, help Li Li Dongling cash out hundreds of millions in Ling Feiyang Technology's investment funds.

Li Li Dongling smiled and shook his head. "There's an old saying in mainland China: if you can't endure small frustrations, you'll ruin your grand plans. Greed for petty gains leads to loss of great wealth—Ling Feiyang Technology's priority now is going public."