Chapter 253: Weibo Project Launch, Core Advantages, Luxury Car Club

In late January, Yi'an Technology, wholly owned by YanYe Capital, added a subsidiary named Yi'an Network Technology Company and leased office space on Zhichun Road.

Haidian is the hub of Beijing's tech companies.

Areas like Zhongguancun, Zhichun Road, and Houchang Village are filled with internet and related industry firms, including several giants.

What kind of company you run determines where you should be located.

Internet companies need large pools of technical talent and must collaborate with many other internet firms; hiding in some remote corner does more harm than good.

As for whether being too close might let competitors overhear something, that depends on company management.

If management is terrible, you can run overseas and your secrets will still be found; if management is strict, even sharing a wall won't let the other side catch a whisper.

As for this "microblog," it's hardly a secret at all.

As previously mentioned, Penguin is developing Taotao, Fanfou is also in development, and there are many more companies that want to join but haven't made any headway.

The internet is a land of opportunity; new websites launch every day, and others shut down daily.

There are plenty of smart people with plenty of ideas, not to mention that Twitter already exists successfully overseas.

But in this world, thinking of something is one thing, building it is another, and succeeding at it is yet another.

"Come, take a look at where you'll be working—anything you need, I'll handle it."

Yan Li smiled at the four people behind him, one of whom was a young woman.

"We don't need anything—it's better than I imagined."

A young man with glasses nodded: "For a startup, having these conditions is rare."

These days, internet startups are all struggling; many so-called companies rent small apartments and cram several people together to live and work in, eating buns while staring at computer screens with messy hair.

Office space?

For internet companies that haven't reached a certain scale, it's a luxury.

There's even a joke in the industry: if you see a startup internet company that looks too polished, it's either a subsidiary of a big firm, a rich kid or tycoon playing at being trendy, or a shell company scammer.

Other industries care about appearances, but in the internet sector, many investors actually prefer investing in these "poor and shabby" companies.

Because companies that attract investors like this are usually the real ones—often already having built something tangible.

Plus, they're poor, so you get the best equity for the least money.

Fortunately, Yan Li, the famous new business magnate, is here; with his reputation, a decent start is understandable—otherwise, the several executives he poached might have hesitated.

Right now is the frantic growth phase of the internet; anyone confident in their abilities refuses to settle for just being an employee.

The boldest and most daring leap out to start their own companies; others are willing to follow entrepreneurs or join rising firms, transforming from employees into partners or core executives.

Yan Li targeted these mindsets and used his system to screen and recruit several talents.

Wang Gaofei, online alias Lai Qu Zhi Jian, is the future CEO of Sina Weibo in the intelligence records and Yan Li's top target.

According to the intelligence, Sina Weibo's success depended on key strategic decisions and execution by core executives during critical periods, especially during its rise.

The top contributor is naturally Cao Guowei, chairman and CEO of Sina Weibo—the overall architect and operator of the Weibo project.

He is currently CEO of Sina; Yan Li can't poach him, and with his own intelligence support, Yan Li is already positioned as the overall architect—his role overlaps too much, so it's unnecessary.

The second is Wang Gaofei.

One key factor in Sina Weibo defeating numerous competitors was successfully leading the reconstruction of the Weibo client, giving it a decisive advantage on mobile platforms.

Wang Gaofei, with his wireless business background, deserves great credit for this.

After becoming Weibo's leader, he transformed Weibo from a media platform into a social interest platform, propelling it to its peak.

Yan Li valued Wang Gaofei's strength in hands-on operations and overall management, poached him to serve as Vice President of Operations and Product for Weibo, responsible for building and running the platform's community—effectively Yan Li's first deputy.

Wang Gaofei was hard to poach; Yan Li went through considerable effort, even some danger.

Before Yan Li approached him, Wang Gaofei was on the verge of becoming Sina's head of wireless business.

This greatly increased the difficulty of poaching him; in the end, Yan Li's success in securing him was no exaggeration—it was truly "three visits to the thatched cottage."

In recent days, Yan Li met him at least twice, called him over a dozen times, and repeatedly used his system to cheat, following the exact formula, before finally convincing Wang Gaofei.

With Yan Li's current wealth and status, even courting a woman wouldn't require this much effort.

Qin Lan and Dong Xuan, seeing him so eager, almost thought he was chasing after some flirtatious woman.

The other three executives besides Wang Gaofei, though not as high-caliber, each have notable backgrounds.

One is the technical lead, formerly at Baidu, a core technical backbone with strong expertise in search and big data.

One is the content director, responsible for building a content ecosystem that attracts and retains users.

He previously worked at Tianya and Sohu, possessing sharp sensitivity to online information and extensive connections with internet influencers, celebrities, and media figures.

Another is the product director, assisting Wang Gaofei in building and operating Weibo faster and deeper.

He previously worked at Penguin, participating in projects like QQ Space and Penguin Blog, making him the executive most familiar with blog operations.

All three have their strengths and align perfectly with Weibo's needs; crucially, Yan Li has confirmed them via his system.

They truly have substance, and their character and professional ethics are above average.

Such a core team fears most impostors or rotten apples; as long as cohesion is strong and each can handle their domain, it's a very qualified, even excellent team.

Any deficiencies or shortcomings can be compensated for later by hiring others or teams.

…

Yan Li was quite satisfied with Weibo's initial core team; he showed them around the company and summoned the HR and finance staff he had selected.

They officially held Weibo's first executive meeting.

The first agenda item was motivation and vision-painting.

These executives didn't leave good jobs to join this startup to realize some dream of building a social platform loved by countless netizens.

Their goal was simple: follow Yan Li to build the company, get rich, and rise to prominence.

Yan Li understood this perfectly and didn't waste time on empty talk—he had already prepared actual equity and an option pool.

With no shortage of money or resources, Yan Li lacked only technical support, so he was willing to offer 15–20% equity upfront to attract the current and future core team.

Later, due to the need for financing, these teams' equity stakes will certainly shrink.

But Yan Li will retain a Certain Period option pool to safeguard the interests of executives and employees.

Yan Li cares about money, but cares more about keeping the giant weapon—Weibo—in his own hands.

As long as he can build up Weibo and control it, he is willing to surrender the economic benefits of Weibo itself.

Because Yan Li can fully leverage Weibo to empower his other companies and strategies, earning even more money through Weibo.

If he clings stubbornly to Weibo's equity, haggling over every bit, and fails to make Weibo succeed, then even 100% ownership is worthless.

Which is minor gain, which is major gain—Yan Li has calculated this balance clearly.

Moreover, compared with other giant partners, Yan Li actually prefers to give equity to employees—many of whom share his interests and can secure their equity rights through other methods, thereby better controlling Weibo.

Precisely because of Yan Li's generosity, these executives will abandon their previous jobs to gamble with him, confident they can attract even more talent.

Great rewards produce brave men; tangible benefits move the heart far more than any flowery words.

Equity terms and benefits were all settled when recruiting; today's rally meeting is just to kick things off, then recruit troops and prepare to work.

After the meeting ended, everyone went their separate ways; Yan Li asked Wang Gaofei and another core executive to stay behind to discuss another critical issue.

What is Weibo?

And how do we build and succeed with Weibo?!

To be honest, apart from the godlike Yan Li, everyone lacks a clear understanding of Weibo.

Even the major internet giants haven't entered the Weibo space—not because they don't know about Twitter, but because they think it's unnecessary.

Blogs already exist and are thriving wildly; who in their right mind would abandon a mature project to pursue a risky new one?

According to intelligence, Sina launched Weibo precisely because, for various reasons, it couldn't establish clear dominance in blogs—Cao Guowei pushed through opposition to launch Weibo, thereby extending Sina's lifespan.

Without Weibo, Sina might have been the worst-performing of the three major portals.

If blogs are now so popular, how can Weibo break through the chaos?

Yan Li had already discussed this to varying degrees with people during recruitment; now that they've officially joined the company, discussions will be more thorough.

Currently, similar social platform websites.

The one with the largest user base is probably QQ Space, but it's a closed, personal social network lacking public expression space, and its users are relatively young.

In short, it's just a bunch of kids entertaining themselves in their own circles.

As Yan Li said this, he specifically noted two key points.

That is, if Penguin ever enters the arena to battle their Weibo, its core user base could become one of Penguin's weaknesses.

Moreover, QQ Space, with its deep roots, and the newborn Penguin Weibo, have overlapping positioning and business models—leaving room for maneuver.

Then there's Xiaonai Network, which has developed well over the past two years, but its positioning is flawed.

Its users are restricted solely to university campuses; although it has attracted many high-quality users, its closed nature is too strong.

If unchanged and confined to campuses, its foundation is weak and it will eventually be crushed by other platforms.

If changed, its core appeal weakens, its user ecosystem shifts, and it risks losing many existing users, triggering backlash.

Wang Xing sold Xiaonai Network to create Fanfou—he likely saw the platform's ceiling.

And the most popular blogs now have broken through the line of personal social networks, becoming public expression platforms.

But blogs have one weakness: they're too long, with high content creation barriers; though public, they're still essentially the solo performance of a small elite.

Weibo, in this regard, integrates advantages from several platforms, fills their gaps, and captures market blanks.

It precisely positions itself as a public opinion square, with limited personal social features and drastically lowered creation barriers.

"The internet is rapidly developing and spreading; the number of netizens grows daily, and more and more ordinary netizens refuse to remain mere spectators—we must seize this window of opportunity to turn Weibo into a mass platform distinct from elite-dominated ones."

"The vast ocean of the masses is unbeatable; remember, the broad user base is Weibo's root—celebrities and stars are merely tools we use to attract traffic; don't confuse primary and secondary."

Although Yan Li's own key strategy is the celebrity approach, he won't rely entirely on it.

You can use celebrities; others can use celebrities too!

So Yan Li understands clearly: celebrities and stars will initially serve to drive traffic and build awareness for Weibo.

The key, however, is to build a stable, healthy community ecosystem that attracts and retains users.

When your user base grows and your influence expands,

it won't be Yan Li using celebrities to attract users—it will be massive users continuously drawing celebrities to join Weibo, competing for traffic and exposure.

At that point, a positive cycle forms; even if others use celebrity strategies, they won't shake Weibo's momentum.

Massification!

Yan Li told Wang Gaofei and others to remember these three words—they will be Weibo's core selling point and one of its advantages.

Beyond that, Weibo must also have other sufficient advantages, such as real-time information dissemination, trend chasing, and public social fulfillment.

Yan Li won't reveal all these cards at once.

He will reveal them one by one, always staying one or two steps ahead of competitors, continuously widening the advantage and establishing an advanced user ecosystem. Once Weibo's ecosystem is established and its brand solidified, once users and the public grow accustomed to Weibo's features, no amount of traffic or capital advantage can easily shake it.

Moreover, due to the intelligence system, Yan Li can not only understand the enemy's movements but also "counter-spy."

If the opponent has a good idea, Yan Li can intercept it by launching early—or launch simultaneously—neutralizing their strike and possibly even playing a counterintelligence game.

They talked until afternoon; finally, Yan Li finished speaking. Just as he was about to let Wang Gaofei and the others leave, he suddenly remembered something.

"Remember to register the Weibo trademark."

Yan Li doesn't plan to prefix Weibo with "Yi'an" or "Yi'an"—he intends to call it simply "Weibo," meaning microblog.

If the trademark registration succeeds, whether others call it Fanfou, Taotao, or some "X Blog," it doesn't matter—but anyone who dares to use the two characters "Weibo" will face lawsuits.

Whether he can win the lawsuit isn't important; the key is to hold the concept of "microblog" in his hands and annoy competitors.

Even if others use "Weibo," to distinguish themselves, they'll have to prefix it with "XX Weibo"—which immediately looks like a knockoff.

Wang Gaofei hesitated—he didn't oppose registering the Weibo trademark, but he thought other platforms using the name "Weibo" could actually benefit Weibo.

If everyone uses "Weibo," even if it sparks a "Weibo war," it still deepens the public's understanding of the concept.

Just like today's blogs, it was the combined buzz from many different blog platforms that made blogs popular.

If you didn't use Weibo but instead had multiple platforms like XX Blog or XX Micro-Community promoting the concept together, wouldn't that suppress Weibo in return?

Yan Li paused, thinking Wang Gaofei's idea had merit.

How exactly to proceed later still needed more thought and discussion, but registering the Weibo trademark first was certainly no mistake.

…

Yan Li gave Weibo's executives one month to assemble a preliminary technical team for Weibo's development after the Spring Festival.

Developing Weibo, establishing unique advantages, and building technological barriers involved many challenges—it was better to act early than late.

Besides technology, operational teams, content teams, product teams, and marketing and market teams all needed to be built one by one.

Yan Li planned to launch Weibo in 2008 and gain a first-mover advantage; over a year seemed long, but it might still not be enough.

After leaving Weibo's company, Yan Li drove to Chaoyang to meet his stock trading securities team.

Having invested consecutively in three money-burning giants—theater chains, video websites, and Weibo—Yan Li felt financial pressure.

Although the funding gap could be resolved through financing, to avoid being too passive and protect his personal interests, Yan Li needed relatively ample funds as a safety net.

If you're short on money, have no funds, panic, and jump around in desperation, others will dictate terms and exploit you.

If you're not that desperate, and can cover your own back at critical moments, you'll have confidence, remain calm, and won't compromise without limits.

Thus, Yan Li, who had previously been laid-back about the stock market, became noticeably more active during this period, spending his free time visiting the securities team.

"Director Yan, here are the data from the past few days and the plans for the coming days."

Yan Li flipped through them roughly, cross-referenced the relevant intelligence triggered, and gave two instructions.

Cai Shen, head of the stock trading team, showed no hesitation and immediately agreed to carry them out.

Over the past year, Yan Li had repeatedly proven his ability with "keen, precise market intuition and vision."

The entire stock trading team deeply admired Yan Li, and even felt sorry for him.

Yan Li's vision was sharp and his intuition keen, but he lacked "boldness," trading too cautiously—he might have become a 【Little God of Stocks】 if he'd been bolder.

Yan Li was aware of the team's gossip, but didn't care much.

There were too many 【Little Gods of Stocks】; how many could remain glorious forever?

If you really went all-in and got targeted and ambushed, the stock market changed in an instant—even with his system, Yan Li wouldn't be safe.

After Cai Shen left, Yan Li checked his account.

The 150 million invested in Yi'an Theater Chains had been withdrawn; his current account balance was nearly 190 million.

Considering Yan Li's principal and the current bull market, this amount wasn't large—it was even somewhat "moderate"—but it excelled in stability.

Yan Li wanted stability—not just stable profits, but stable sources.

Only with enough stability could he withstand scrutiny, avoid drawing attention, and only such a cautious, steady posture would let him escape unscathed during a financial crisis.

Compared to the 2006 bull market, the real madness came in 2007, just before the financial crisis—everywhere were speculative stocks; you could make money lying down.

Yan Li had some related intelligence; if he went all out, he could make a fortune.

But making money was easy; the key was how to withdraw it smoothly and spend it safely without risk.

As always: when others lose money and you make it, you invite envy.

If you make so much and act so boldly, even if your operations are flawless, you can't escape the envy and targeting from all sides.

There are countless ways to make you bleed, cut your flesh, even tear off your bones.

So even with financial pressure, Yan Li remained calm.

Making money was to prepare for future crises; creating a crisis for yourself now? That's just asking for trouble.

Gently tapping the table, Yan Li pondered: originally, he planned to exit slowly once his balance exceeded 300 million.

But now, after thinking it over, maintaining his principal around 200 million would be fine—ideally just over 100 million.

Make a profit, withdraw a portion, exit in batches—messy, yes, but safe.

Yan Li now had theater chains, Weibo, film companies, and many other projects; tens or hundreds of millions could be "absorbed" quickly in his hands.

This way, no one could tell how much he'd actually made in the stock market.

Note: Yan Li wasn't hiding money—he couldn't hide taxes, transactions, or investments.

This was for low profile: spending 100 million all at once versus spreading it over ten installments—the same amount, but the attention drawn was on entirely different levels.

In business and enterprise, the higher the profile, the better; but when making money from stocks and taking advantage of novice investors, the lower the profile, the better—especially when those novice investors are suffering.

Being low-key avoids envy and might even become a useful secret weapon, misleading competitors.

Everyone thinks he's broke, but he's actually rich—catching his opponents off guard.

Yan Li felt he was growing increasingly cunning, corrupted by that bunch of old-timers, tainting his upright and kind nature.

After leaving the securities team, Yan Li rushed to another social engagement—a gathering of entrepreneurs from his hometown, with a few major figures from Shandong present.

Although Yan Li primarily operated in Jingcheng and many regarded him as part of the Jingcheng circle,

he maintained excellent ties with his hometown, staying closely connected—he was considered an outstanding representative of young Shandong entrepreneurs; had his company been based in Shandong, he might already have been elevated as Shandong's official representative.

Everyone knows Zhejiang merchants, Chaozhou merchants, Shanxi merchants, Huizhou merchants—but Shandong merchants' strength was no weaker.

Yet Shandong merchants tended to root themselves locally; many big figures were in real industry, so their fame remained low.

Of course, there was another unspoken reason: Shandong had a large population and many officials, and it was close to Jingcheng.

This made many things sensitive—hard to form cliques, impossible to make public.

As a result, even someone like Yan Li, a rising new elite, was considered a notable figure in Shandong's business world, yet no one could say whether a true "Shandong faction" even existed.

Hmm—subjectively, perhaps not; objectively, maybe it did, since Shandong's terrain was mostly flat, with no mountain strongholds…

Private room

Yan Li was chatting with a major figure from finance, who was interested in him and considering investing in his projects.

Then another major figure, in trust and wealth management, arrived, bringing along a young newcomer.

"Mr. Dong, Director Yan, this is Xiao Wang, Wang Ke, also from our hometown; he's currently focused on investment consulting and management."

After the introduction, Wang Ke stepped forward with a glass of wine, exchanged some polite formalities, then respectfully toasted.

The financial tycoon beside Yan Li nodded slightly, paying little attention; Yan Li lightly clinked his glass in a token gesture, helping to ease the awkwardness.

Such circle-based gatherings inevitably feature the dominant figures holding court, new elites like Yan Li who have achieved success and seek to be courted and integrated, as well as friends brought along by these powerful figures.

Called friends, but in truth most are merely hangers-on following the tycoons for meals; the tycoons deem them decent and intend to mentor them, bringing them along to broaden their horizons.

Yan Li himself had once followed others through such social occasions and endured cold shoulders and neglect.

Although his rapid rise quickly allowed him to leave that behind, he understood how unpleasant it felt, so whenever he encountered such situations, he generally made an effort to show kindness.

Not only did he clink glasses, but he also accepted Wang Ke's business card—one from a financial company, the other from a luxury car club.

"You play with cars?"

Wang Ke nodded and explained the composition of the luxury car club, especially highlighting several members with considerable influence.

Yan Li had initially been somewhat interested, but after the introduction, his enthusiasm vanished.

Things like luxury car clubs are similar to certain art salons or golf clubs—they're all high-end social platforms for building connections.

In plain terms, it's just about mingling in circles.

For instance, in a luxury car club, those who can afford and enjoy such cars all have some connections; if you join and socialize with them, once you're familiar, you gain connections and influence, and perhaps even business opportunities.

For someone like Wang Ke, who does investment consulting and management, connecting with quality clients and building a strong network makes playing with luxury cars a decent choice.

Yan Li also had a slight fondness for cars; after all, he was young—who doesn't love luxury and sports cars, for the thrill, the show, and the chance to build connections?

But the composition of Wang Ke's club members was hard to describe.

It wasn't low-class—by Wang Ke's description, all the cars were worth millions, beyond the reach of ordinary people.

But the key wasn't the car's value, but the members' status: the club was mostly made up of second-generation rich kids and other young people with family connections.

These rich kids and youths might hold value for Wang Ke, but in Yan Li's view, their social value was extremely low and likely to bring trouble.

Think about it: playing with luxury cars isn't novel—there are plenty of tycoons and tough players—but if Wang Ke could truly connect with them, he wouldn't be here today being led around to toast.

After briefly dealing with Wang Ke, Yan Li resumed chatting with the tycoon, who noticed Yan Li seemed interested in cars.

"If you like this, start your own car team; with your reputation, you won't lack for people to cheer you on."

"I just don't have the time—I'd rather enjoy something already set up."

Yan Li had indeed considered forming a car team or a ball team, planning two versions: one for high-end business networking, the other for celebrity events.

The former for building connections and influence, the latter offering far more possibilities—charity, promotion, boosting tourism, and so on.

This idea came from the celebrities in Xiangjiang; there were similar attempts on the mainland, but none had made a mark—Yan Li felt he could give it a try.

Even if the results weren't impressive, at least it could generate traffic on Weibo.

Traffic isn't something you wait for—you create traffic when there's none.

For example, celebrity races or celebrity charity car races: traditional media and portal sites report them, while Weibo spreads them instantly and virally—the latter absolutely crushes the former.

Weibo isn't just about inviting a bunch of celebrities to post—we need to stir things up, maximize exposure, to attract users and keep them active.

If Weibo became the holy ground for gossip and the central square for hot topics, where people rushed to it first for any new news, and felt uneasy if they didn't scroll it daily, relying on it to learn about everything big and small—

Then Weibo would find it impossible to lose to its competitors!

————

PS: Due to certain reasons, the previous two chapters were edited and trimmed slightly; the general meaning remains unchanged and does not affect reading, please note.

Busy with revisions, ran out of time—short by 1000 words; will make up with 10,000 words tomorrow.

(End of Chapter)