Chapter 401

Late June, after multiple rounds of negotiations, Yan Li first softened his stance, then hardened it, and even turned a mole against her, finally securing Yang Lei's agreement.

Yang Lei withdrew her lawsuit; Wang Wei personally compensated her with $12 million in cash and a property in Shanghai.

At current exchange rates, the cash amounted to about 80 million RMB, and the property—formerly marital property from their marriage—had been awarded to Yang Lei after their divorce, along with the remaining mortgage.

Yang Lei demanded Wang Wei pay off the mortgage, a relatively small sum of just a few million, bringing the total to roughly 85 million RMB.

In 2010, this sum was by no means small—many billionaires would curse if forced to pay 85 million in a divorce settlement.

Wang Wei was also deeply dissatisfied, but was scolded into submission by Yan Li and the board.

Whether the 85 million was worth it was secondary—the key was that you caused the trouble, and now you're being held hostage; for everyone's interests, you must resolve it.

Moreover, from Wang Wei's personal perspective, without paying the 85 million, Tudou. com could not go public, and his shares would be worthless.

But if he paid the 85 million, though it would hurt, it would smoothly push the IPO forward, turning his shares into real gold and silver.

Can't you even do the math?!

Previously, when Yan Li seized control of Tudou. com, he had merely criticized; this time, seeing Wang Wei still dragging his feet over 85 million, he finally lost his temper.

"I'm worth tens of billions—I abandoned my family, spent every day smiling and coddling your ex-wife, cleaning up your messes, and somehow got you this price."

"Refuse? Do you think I won't just take your shares as payment?"

Yan Li was genuinely angry; as he said, with his vast fortune, he spent more time soothing Yang Lei and her friend than he did seeing his own newborn son.

Just as they'd finally settled the hardest case—Yang Lei—Wang Wei suddenly refused to comply.

Yan Li's scolding was already mild; if not for the board's need to preserve appearances, he'd have thrown his teacup in Wang Wei's face.

"Director Yan, please calm down."

Several shareholders and executives rushed to intervene; Xiong, the head of IDG, looked equally furious.

"Director Wang, everyone sees how hard Director Yan worked—such speed, such a low price—who else could have achieved this?"

Before this, everyone assumed it would take at least 100 million, maybe even 200 million, or a slice of equity.

But no one expected Yan Li to secure it for 85 million—and in such a short time.

Frankly, shareholders were all whispering whether Yan Li used some irregular tactics.

Under these circumstances, Wang Wei's behavior was a textbook case of ingratitude.

Several shareholders exchanged glances, suspecting Wang Wei was using this as an outlet for his resentment over being stripped of power, trying to sabotage the company and its shareholders.

Xu, head of Jiner Capital, took a firm stance: "Director Wang, I believe Director Yan's negotiated price is entirely reasonable. If you refuse, I will recommend the board consider coercive measures."

Personal debt issues preventing the company's IPO constitute serious harm to corporate interests; internal measures—including forced share transfer or even shareholder expulsion—are permissible.

Of course, such actions are sensitive and complex, especially against a major shareholder like Wang Wei—it wouldn't be simple to execute.

But if the board united against him, they had plenty of ways to make Wang Wei suffer greatly.

Wang Wei realized he'd stirred up widespread anger and dared not argue, only saying:

"I don't mean anything else—I simply don't have the cash."

As mentioned earlier, Wang Wei's net worth was almost entirely tied to his Tudou. com shares; Tudou. com had been losing money, paid no dividends, and he'd been sustaining himself on personal savings and his salary as chairman and CEO.

Now that he'd resigned from Tudou. com, his income was gone—he truly couldn't afford 85 million.

"I've already negotiated this with her—you can pay 20 million upfront and cover the property mortgage; the rest will be paid within six months after the IPO."

Yan Li said, knowing Wang Wei had no money—he'd already arranged an installment plan with Yang Lei.

"I can't even afford 20 million."

Wang Wei declared; Yan Li no longer wanted to speak to him—he'd originally planned to lend Wang Wei the money if he was short, but now he refused any connection.

Xiong, head of IDG, sighed: "I'll lend you the money."

After arranging legal staff to sign the contract and withdraw the lawsuit, Wang Wei temporarily left; the board members exchanged glances, the atmosphere oddly tense.

Whether Wang Wei was truly stingy or using this to retaliate, his actions had cost him dearly—and even raised fears of uncontrollable risk.

Previously, when they'd allied with Yan Li to seize power, some shareholders, though aligned with Yan Li for financial reasons, still felt sympathy and guilt toward Wang Wei.

But Wang Wei's behavior now had drastically reduced their positive view of him—even those who still felt some sympathy now leaned toward pushing him out to protect the company's stability and their own interests.

"After the IPO, I hope the board will unify its stance and maintain sufficient cohesion."

Yan Li spoke with pointed intent; Xu of Jiner Capital nodded: "I agree."

"I have no objection."

"Fine."

"All for the company."

"..."

This statement signaled the board's consensus: after the IPO, they would act against Wang Wei.

Either expel him outright, or dilute his shares to drastically reduce his threat—no one could afford to leave a major shareholder hostile to the board.

…

With Yang Lei settled, Tudou. com had shed a heavy burden and could now re-charge toward its IPO.

In fact, during this period, Tudou. com's IPO process had continued advancing; though slowed by the delay, the resolution came quickly enough to remain within manageable limits.

Currently, Tudou. com's IPO progress still led Youku's, though the gap had narrowed considerably.

This disappointed some Tudou. com shareholders and executives, but Yan Li remained calm.

He had long prepared for a direct clash with Youku.

According to future intelligence, Tudou. com's downfall seemed tied to IPO timing—as if whoever went public first would win outright; this view was incomplete and unobjective.

Tudou. com's IPO delays were a key reason, but not the only one.

Before the IPO, Youku already surpassed Tudou. com in every aspect—functionality, strategy, technology—and had become the de facto industry leader.

Tudou. com's rush to go public was an attempt to find a shortcut to overtake the leader.

But the result was that Youku went public first, secured massive funding and broad support, and—already ahead—used this advantage to surge forward, establishing absolute dominance while Tudou. com struggled to complete its IPO.

At the time, the video website market had not been fully developed, and capital markets favored winner-takes-all; Youku was the clear leader, and Tudou Network was surely doomed.

As a result, Tudou Network's stock plummeted after its IPO, and within just half a year, what had once been a fierce rivalry between two giants had become a situation where Tudou's market value was only a fraction of Youku's.

Even so, Tudou Network had not yet reached its end—it remained the industry's second player, with a market value of several billion.

What truly pushed Tudou Network toward extinction was the entry of major internet giants: Baidu launched iQiyi, Tencent launched Tencent Video, and an unexpected newcomer, LeTV, emerged.

Before these powerful, well-funded giants, the former industry duopoly of Youku and Tudou Network faced immense pressure.

Youku, at least, was the industry leader with deeper roots; Tudou Network, severely weakened, simply could not hold on, so both sides chose to join forces and merge.

But Tudou Network was no match for Youku—it was completely swallowed up after the merger and ultimately vanished entirely.

This also reveals that Tudou Network and Youku were fundamentally different.

According to future intelligence, Tudou Network's IPO was delayed by half a year, meaning Tudou Network had effectively been eliminated early.

But in reality, Youku's IPO lagged behind Tudou Network by only one or two steps—nowhere near the catastrophic state described in the future intelligence.

Yan Li considered waiting until after Tudou Network's IPO to upgrade hardware and adjust strategy, both of which required time and pain, effectively giving Youku further opportunity to narrow the gap.

Therefore, Tudou Network going public first could not directly crush Youku.

Both sides would not only have to fight, but likely face a prolonged and grueling battle.

Yan Li's current main arrangements for Tudou Network are threefold: first, arranging the IPO; second, researching hardware upgrades and strategic changes; third, securing content.

For video websites, content remains the most important; when hardware is roughly equal, whoever has better content holds the greater advantage.

In this regard, Tudou Network has the advantage of Yi'an's support, but Yan Li remains cautious.

Youku is not foolish—if Tudou Network partners with Yi'an, they will turn to other film and television companies, actively raise prices, and spend heavily to buy dramas to compensate for their disadvantage.

Thus, Yan Li prepared two strategies: one, arranging for Yi'an to acquire popular copyrights; two, actively promoting Tudou Network's original web dramas.

The term "web drama," Yan Li had learned about from future intelligence; under the current censorship system, web dramas held a significant advantage.

For example, mystery and supernatural themes were impossible in TV dramas, and even in films, they were only borderline.

But web dramas had no clear restrictions—as long as the boundaries weren't excessively crossed, creators could boldly experiment and attract relevant audiences.

Some gangster and martial arts themes could never be broadcast as TV dramas, but web dramas were different.

As long as they didn't go too far, avoided sensitive issues, or gave endings that roughly aligned with mainstream values, there was still plenty of room to work with.

With proper cost control, a single web drama or season could be produced for just tens of millions—or even a few million—far cheaper than buying dramas.

Additionally, this could build platform brands like "original web dramas" and "content is king," cultivate large pools of loyal fans, and enhance user retention, activity, and monetization potential.

To some extent, this was somewhat combining Tudou Network's former UGC and long-form video copyrights.

But the content creators shifted from users to Tudou Network itself—that is, what's called OGC (professional-generated content).

This move carried some risk; whether it would succeed was uncertain, but if it did, it would become Tudou Network's new flagship and new story.

To play this card well, Yan Li was willing to personally serve as Tudou Network's Chief Content Officer, directly overseeing copyright acquisition and the preparation of original web dramas.

He also transferred numerous talents from Yi'an—some part-time, others fully hired—to help Tudou Network deeply cultivate its content sector.

Keep in mind, Yan Li no longer managed specific operations at Yi'an; his taking on the role of Chief Content Officer at Tudou Network clearly showed his level of emphasis.

After taking charge of the content sector, Yan Li's first batch of engagements involved Yi'an's summer TV dramas.

"The Beauty's Scheme," "Double Embroidery," "Iron Pear Blossom," and others.

These key projects produced by Yi'an would, barring any major mishaps, all be secured by Tudou Network.

What Yan Li truly cared about were the dramas not produced or distributed by Yi'an.

Securing a few strong projects was secondary; the key was to prevent Youku or other competitors from gaining an advantage.

Honestly, when Yan Li received a pile of TV drama materials, he nearly lost his composure.

Yan Li had originally risen to prominence through distribution, once earning the nickname "King of Film Sales," widely recognized in the industry as the most skilled drama seller.

Yet times had changed—now Yan Li had suddenly become a buyer.

This shift in identity stirred deep emotions within Yan Li.

But he quickly adjusted: moving from distributor to platform, from seller to buyer, meant Yan Li's career was ascending—undoubtedly a good thing.

When he was a contractor, even with his system, Yan Li had endured plenty of humiliations; now he could finally enjoy being the client.

Moreover, turning from a seller into a buyer actually offered distinct advantages.

The tricks used by production teams for distribution and sales were all crystal clear to Yan Li—even many of them were tactics he himself had once used.

For Yan Li, when he distributed, he pulled out all stops to inflate prices and highlight strengths; now, when buying, he pulled out all stops to find flaws and drive prices down.

As a distributor, Yan Li became the King of Film Sales; as a buyer, he could become the King of Film Purchases.

Not exaggerating, when several production teams that Tudou Network intended to collaborate with were invited to discuss deals and learned Yan Li was in charge of finalizing drama purchases, they nearly cried.

Anyone in the TV drama distribution business knew Yan Li—he was the idol countless peers revered.

Even this minor role within the film and television industry had acquired a touch of legend due to Yan Li's existence and resume.

When insiders heard someone worked in TV drama distribution, they automatically respected them, assuming the person was sharp, capable, and had a brilliant future—making job-hopping and dating easier.

Now, the idol they most revered had become their strictest and cruelest opponent—what was there left to play?

Tudou Network's drama acquisition department, having previously dealt with Yi'an under fixed rules and never witnessed the capabilities of Yi'an's distribution team, lacked understanding of Yan Li's background and thought these stories were exaggerated.

Then they submitted the contracts they'd negotiated to Yan Li, who frowned and slashed the average price by another 20–30%.

At that moment, Tudou Network's acquisition team thought Yan Li was too ruthless.

Because they'd been intimidated by Yan Li, their bids were already far below normal; slashing further risked collapsing the deals.

But under Yan Li's orders, they returned the contracts to the production teams, insisted on renegotiating with firm resolve.

Although two teams ultimately walked away, most of the remaining teams, realizing Tudou Network's firm stance and their own bottom lines continually eroding, grumbled and complained but ultimately signed the contracts.

Later, Tudou Network staff found out that Yan Li's prices had precisely targeted the production teams' psychological price points just below their minimum acceptable thresholds.

The teams that left were the same—they simply couldn't accept it and thought they might get better deals at Youku or other platforms.

But doing so would cost vastly more time, energy, and risk.