Chapter 82: The Last Penny

As August approached, the weather in Pingyang grew noticeably hot, and the branches outside the Dongling High-Tech office building swayed gently in a breeze from an unknown direction.

Yao Luoying, dressed in a woman’s business suit that accentuated her figure, had strands of hair at her forehead occasionally lifted by the wind from outside.

When Yao Luoying saw the scale of funding Li Dongling had committed to the Zhixing Foundation, she looked at him in surprise—the document stated Li Dongling planned to invest two million U.S. dollars into the foundation.

“This money won’t be invested all at once—it will be spread over four or five years.”

Li Dongling looked at Yao Luoying. “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach him to fish, and you feed him for life.”

He opened the window wider and said, under Yao Luoying’s puzzled gaze, “The two million U.S. dollars invested in the Zhixing Foundation will, in its early years, allocate no more than three million RMB annually to the Qilin Prize and He Zun Prize; the rest will be used for investment.”

“To establish sufficient authority for an award, it must operate consistently for a decade or more—and that requires continuous funding from the foundation.”

“To sustain a foundation long-term, like the Nobel Foundation, operating for decades or even centuries, donations alone won’t suffice—they’ll eventually run dry. Relying on others’ generosity is a human weakness and a fatal flaw for any foundation.”

“I want the Zhixing Foundation to survive one day without relying on Dongling High-Tech.”

Li Dongling smiled. Yao Luoying stared at him by the window, where the golden light of the setting sun fell upon him, leaving her momentarily dazed—she sensed there was deeper meaning in his words.

Establishing the Zhixing Foundation under Dongling High-Tech and promoting the Qilin Prize and He Zun Prize was indeed meant to attract talent and enhance Dongling High-Tech’s influence in the scientific community—but if it could also leave something behind for this era, that would be even better. After all, one’s life must leave some trace.

The two million U.S. dollars Li Dongling allocated to Dongling High-Tech were primarily for investment—including high-dividend tech companies and real estate on NASDAQ—and a professional manager would handle it in the future.

If things go well, the Zhixing Foundation, even after severing ties with Dongling High-Tech, could survive on stock dividends, bonds, and rental income from its office building—and might even thrive better than some publicly traded companies, operating for many years.

Of course, by then, future generations of the Li family, as founding patrons of the Zhixing Foundation, could gain direct or indirect access to networks and resources through it.

For instance, the Zhixing Foundation’s partnerships with top universities, and the geniuses who received Qilin Prize money or the giants who won He Zun Prizes—no one expects them all to remember the foundation’s help, nor to repay the Li family; but if even a few remember and lend a hand at a critical moment, that alone would be more than enough for the Lis.

As the weather grew hotter, sales of the electronic pet device surged across the globe.

After pilot launches in three major Chinese cities, the electronic pet device officially rolled out nationwide. On its first day of sale, it achieved a staggering 620,000 units sold domestically, with revenue surpassing forty million RMB, prompting many domestic media outlets to wonder: what is the electronic pet device’s true limit?

It was just such a “plain and unremarkable” thing—how could it be so wildly popular among the young?

As the electronic pet device gained popularity domestically, criticism began to emerge, mainly accusing it of encouraging frivolity and harming academic performance.

But before these criticisms could form public opinion, fresh news arrived from overseas—sales of the electronic pet device in Japan had officially surpassed seven million units, with revenue breaking the one-hundred-million-dollar mark!

In today’s domestic media environment, foreign moons are always rounder than China’s—Japan, a developed nation, was endlessly praised by the media and envied by many.

Now, the electronic pet device had gone berserk in Japan, raking in one hundred million dollars in just a few months. With current public discourse urging China to learn from the West—including Japan—media outlets that had wanted to criticize the device now had no ground to stand on.

Not just Japan—America and Europe also kept reporting news of the electronic pet device selling out. Especially in America, its popularity had risen from youth and students to the status of a trendy collectible. Rappers like Snoop Dogg and Hollywood stars alike were hanging the electronic pet device around their necks alongside gold chains, publicly declaring themselves loyal fans.

When the top trendsetters in America made such statements, the electronic pet device in America had nearly reached a frenzy of hype.

Especially after Dongling High-Tech and Bandai jointly released a limited-edition version, one such unit in New York was speculated to have sold for a thousand U.S. dollars.

Anyone with half a brain knew these were bought by celebrities or stars for collection—but that didn’t stop a wave of scalpers from exploiting the hype, and with media chasing sensational stories, the device had become scorching hot in America, with shortages even worse than in Japan.

“It has become, alongside AKs and contraband, the most hyped product on the black markets of the European peninsula!”

The London Times also ran a feature on the frenzy the electronic pet device had ignited in Europe—now, it had become a full-blown speculative commodity there.

When a product becomes a speculative commodity, its fundamental nature changes: whether users genuinely like it or why it’s popular no longer matters—everyone wants it, and owning it becomes a badge of honor. In this feverish atmosphere, the electronic pet device was even more popular and fervently pursued overseas than at home.

Li Dongling and Dongling High-Tech had noticed this phenomenon—the overseas frenzy was abnormal; many were clearly hoarding and speculating to resell at inflated prices.

But all Dongling High-Tech could do was ramp up production and continuously launch new products. Whether the scalpers and speculators would overextend themselves and be stuck with unsold inventory was none of their concern.

“Based on current overseas sales trends, we estimate the electronic pet device’s overseas sales this year will reach between fifteen and eighteen million units, with total revenue expected to… surpass two hundred million U.S. dollars!”

In Dongling High-Tech’s conference room, Zhang Ao addressed Li Dongling and the company’s senior executives.

Hu Zi, Yao Luoying, Gao Peng, Chen Tao, Li Dongshan, and others all applauded—especially Hu Zi, who oversaw finance, whose face beamed with joy.

For Hu Zi, this year had been one of dramatic highs and lows: before mid-year, he had worried whether Dongling High-Tech could survive; by the second half, he was now grappling with the massive tax liabilities from its overseas revenue.

As overseas payments steadily arrived, Dongling High-Tech’s bank accounts grew flush. With the electronic pet device selling like wildfire, both domestic and international agents and distributors, eager to secure more units, dared not delay payments—cash flow was now exceptionally strong.

“Domestic sales are projected to exceed six million units, primarily due to pricing—the 68-yuan price tag is still relatively high compared to average domestic incomes,” Zhang Ao said.

Most people in China now earn only a few hundred yuan per month; in cities like Beijing and Shanghai, incomes are higher, but electronic pet device sales remain concentrated in urban areas—sales in counties and towns remain weak, as families there still hesitate to spend dozens of yuan on such a device.

Still, China is vast, and there are plenty of willing buyers—just as cars priced at over one hundred thousand yuan each still sell over a million units annually in China, selling a million electronic pet devices domestically is no great challenge.

After Zhang Ao, Yao Luoying, Hu Zi, Gao Peng, and others successively reported to Li Dongling, most updates centered on the electronic pet device business.

“The electronic pet device R&D team must continuously upgrade the product. But Dongling High-Tech cannot bet everything on this one project—by next year, we must be ready to let it go.”

Li Dongling gave a slight warning to the senior executives. Hearing this, Yao Luoying, Hu Zi, Zhang Ao, and others stared at him in surprise.

“Always prepare for the worst.”

Li Dongling smiled. The electronic pet device might last only one or two years—by this time next year, whether it could still sell at all was uncertain.

People grow tired. Sudden, intense enthusiasm can vanish just as suddenly. If Dongling High-Tech placed all its hopes on it, producing endlessly, and one day it suddenly stopped selling, the company might have to give back all its profits—and even lose more.

Like those companies and scalpers in his past life who mass-produced and hoarded pagers, only to be crushed overnight on the beach with no time to react.

So by next year at the latest, regardless of market conditions, Dongling High-Tech must begin reducing electronic pet device production. The last penny carries too great a risk!

(End of Chapter)