Chapter 107: 104 Manipulation

Capital is moving today.

“Qu Nai”’s Series C funding has stalled, so “Bai Xiaosheng”’s Series A funding has become the company’s final move before the New Year.

Liu Jiankai, as the person in charge of researching Bai Xiaosheng, naturally moved to secure the investment.

On January 11, he scheduled an interview with a NetEase journalist for the afternoon.

At 2:30 p.m., after watching a movie in his office, Liu Jiankai called in his new assistant, Pang Haiyi, and asked him a serious question.

“Little Pang, which brand of electric scooter is better to use?”

Pang Haiyi had assumed he was summoned to provide information on Bai Xiaosheng; hearing this question, his expression turned plainly confused.

Liu Jiankai said seriously: “My wife sent me a text at lunch. I thought about it—I seem to know only you understand this.”

Pang Haiyi froze for two seconds, then felt an urge to challenge this rich man.

He took a deep breath and described the electric scooters he’d used and had stolen from him—he still cherished his chance to work at Jinri Capital.

Liu Jiankai nodded, summarized briefly, and sent the answer to his wife.

Then he said: “Write a piece now on why you believe in the growth of workplace social platforms. Hmm, the NetEase journalist will be here in half an hour.”

Pang Haiyi stared at the vice president in disbelief, almost certain he was being mocked.

The interview is in half an hour—and now you want me to write?

Liu Jiankai sensed the new assistant’s irritation and laughed: “Write whatever you like—even make it up. Just get the format right. Give a copy to the journalist when the interview ends. It doesn’t matter. What matters is our supportive stance.”

Pang Haiyi had taken meeting minutes yesterday morning and knew about the company’s talks with Bai Xiaosheng. He opened his notebook and asked cautiously: “Mr. Liu, are we doing this to curry favor with Bai Xiaosheng?”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Liu Jiankai shook his head. “Where did you get that idea? Bai Xiaosheng didn’t even agree yesterday. No favor-seeking—we’re telling them to hurry up and say yes, or the window will close.”

Pang Haiyi didn’t fully understand.

Liu Jiankai liked his new assistant’s efficiency and took the time to explain: “Look, Bai Xiaosheng has had repeated dealings with NetEase. Its chairman came from NetEase—he must pay close attention to NetEase’s reporting, or at least, anyone in their field would track industry trends.”

“We can accept the interview, express strong support for workplace social platforms, even specifically endorse Tianji Wang’s growth in China—but don’t mention Bai Xiaosheng.”

Pang Haiyi understood: “You’re trying to intimidate Bai Xiaosheng?”

“Sort of. Bai Xiaosheng likes using public opinion, so I’ll give them some noise too. I’m an investor—can’t I express support for a sector? Liu Jiankai smiled. “Bai Xiaosheng’s current model isn’t that hard to replicate. If they can do it, why can’t Tianji Wang?”

Pang Haiyi opened his mouth but held back.

“Go ahead, say what you want.” Liu Jiankai gestured for his assistant to pour him coffee.

Moments later, Pang Haiyi placed the coffee before his boss. Seeing his mood was good, he voiced his thoughts: “Even with the same model, different people execute it differently. Tianji Wang may not achieve Bai Xiaosheng’s level—it’s been struggling for years, nearly acquired, so it must have serious flaws.”

“You’re right. But this creates change and threat. If Tianji Wang fails, what’s that to us? We’re just poking the windowpane—we may not even invest in it.” Liu Jiankai sipped his coffee. “Building is hard; breaking is easy. Smart people know this.”

Pang Haiyi was quietly startled. Tianji Wang had flaws—it might fail. But if it tried, Bai Xiaosheng’s competitive pressure would rise sharply.

Ultimately, Bai Xiaosheng’s founding team lacked background and prestige, while Tianji Wang had time, experience, and industry veterans. What if the only barrier was that thin windowpane?

If another firm sat at the table with two funding proposals, their preference would likely lean toward Tianji Wang.

Bai Xiaosheng is short on time. If it can’t pull ahead quickly, and a similar site emerges, it may become the first casualty.

At least, that risk exists.

Pang Haiyi thought carefully, then asked again: “Mr. Liu, what if the people at Bai Xiaosheng aren’t smart enough?”

“Not smart enough?” Liu Jiankai smiled. “Perfect. That means we shouldn’t invest. If they get eliminated, we just keep looking for the next opportunity.”

Pang Haiyi exhaled softly.

Liu Jiankai found the assistant’s expression amusing and laughed loudly: “Look at anyone still alive in this market—who isn’t smart? The stupid ones are all dead.”

He shook his head after laughing: “Besides, I don’t think Yu Xing is stupid at all.”

Liu Jiankai spread his hands: “We haven’t done anything extreme. Just a shadow passed between us. If we shake hands, sunlight falls—and all shadows vanish.”

“If the entrepreneur has vision and courage, we can still play nicely together.”

“If he lacks vision and courage, it doesn’t matter. Once he holds shares, he’ll have to fight for them.”

“Communicate. Cooperate. Don’t fear setbacks. Focus on overall growth. Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

Liu Jiankai gestured for his assistant to begin work—the time to draft the article was running short.

Pang Haiyi took a breath, his mind sharpening—he now knew exactly how to write the speech.

He also realized his boss had taught him a lesson: a normal move had become a blend of soft and hard tactics, conflict without rupture.

The company had only implicitly stated a demand—the other side had to be smart enough to understand.

The next day, NetEase published the interview with Jinri Capital’s vice president, mentioning renewed confidence in the economy after the financial crisis and expressing strong support for workplace social platforms.

And Liu Jiankai specifically praised Tianji Wang’s development.

The next day, Bai Xiaosheng remained silent, but Jinri Capital received a call from Tianji Wang.

As a company teetering on the edge of acquisition, Tianji Wang was pleasantly surprised by capital’s support and sincerely hoped to engage in dialogue.

Liu Jiankai was both amused and exasperated; he could only stall, suggesting they talk after the New Year.

The next day, Bai Xiaosheng still showed no reaction.

Liu Jiankai was now puzzled—could they really be that dense?

He thought again, fearing the recent graduates might think they were too kind, and instructed Pang Haiyi to register a verified account on Bai Xiaosheng and repost the NetEase article.

Surely they couldn’t miss it now?

Though this lacked subtlety and seemed forced, mutual competition still aimed at mutual gain.

If all else failed, Liu Jiankai could still make a direct phone call before the New Year, bluntly pointing out market pressure.

The appearance might not be elegant, but it would offer a chance to shake hands.

January 14, 3:00 p.m., CEO’s office of Bai Xiaosheng.

“Senior brother, there’s a repost on the site from a Jinri Capital employee—the NetEase article.” Lu Haiying entered the office and mentioned the latest development.

Yu Xing merely grunted, still focused on the email from Xiao Ying.

Lu Haiying didn’t leave. She had noticed Jinri Capital’s move the moment NetEase reported it and reported it to her senior brother, but he gave no response.

Two days later, Jinri Capital had moved again—she wanted to hear his deeper thoughts.

Five minutes later, Yu Xing closed the webpage and looked at his second-in-command. “See? When capital wants to make money, it doesn’t care how we see it—whether it’s vile or noble, it only cares about achieving its goal.”

Lu Haiying fully agreed.

Though she hadn’t heard his immediate reaction, she had discussed it with Zhong Zhiling and understood what Jinri Capital intended.

Yu Xing continued: “Last year, Liu Qiangdong told me over the phone: ‘Watch out for investors—they’re all cunning.’ I asked if that included Xu Xin—he just smiled, gave no clear answer.”

Lu Haiying frowned: “The answer is clear now.”

“Yes, clear. Whoever it is—investor or us—if you want to make money, you’ll do whatever it takes. That’s no surprise. But seeing it in action confirms it.” Yu Xing smiled. “Fortunately, ‘investor’ is just a broad term—they’re not a single entity. This morning I was still thinking how to talk to Shen Nanpeng. Now I’ve figured it out.”

Lu Haiying didn’t hear his plan. She thought for a moment, then asked with concern: “What if Jinri Capital really invests in Tianji Wang—or hires someone to build a site just like ours?”

“Hire someone to run a business? Well, investors aren’t in it for short-term gains—they need reputation. That’s unlikely. But they might invest in Tianji Wang, or simply pass our model along as a favor.” Yu Xing lowered his expectations and said seriously: “If that happens, as long as we get new investors, as long as new money flows in, we won’t be afraid.”

“If Tianji Wang moves, we’ll move against Tianji Wang. If Dijie Wang comes, we’ll move against Dijie Wang.”

“Without Xu Xin, there’s Liu Xin. Besides, Xiao Ying is already helping us find funding.”

“What’s a little competition?”

“We must have confidence in our own venture and the will to compete—otherwise, we won’t go far.”

Yu Xing smiled: “Let’s encourage each other.”

Lu Haiying was deeply inspired and nodded vigorously.

After Lu Haiying left the office, Yu Xing reopened the webpage, opened his email, and reread the message from Liu Wan.

Two hours later, Guoshanfeng Research would publish a preliminary version of its Fen Zhong research report on its newly launched website—a brief version meant to attract media and market capital.

By Friday at the latest, the full report would be released, and the company’s legal agent would file an anonymous whistleblower report with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC).

Yu Xing learned a small bonus from Liu Wan: if their action led the SEC to impose a fine exceeding one million U.S. dollars, they could receive 10% to 30% of the fine as a reward.

“If we go public first, then contact them—can we still get the money?” Yu Xing asked.

“I don’t know,” Liu Wan answered honestly. “It’s my first time too. Let’s all try.”

This was Guoshanfeng’s first move—everyone was learning as they went.

At 5:30 p.m., Yu Xing refreshed the page and saw Guoshanfeng’s first public signal.

Then…

There was no more.

Even the Hong Kong media he’d contacted couldn’t react that fast, and interested parties had no time to respond.

Half an hour later, Yu Xing called Liu Wan: “How’s it going? What’s the situation now? Will Fen Zhong’s stock on Nasdaq move tonight?”

“Wait,” Liu Wan said calmly. “But I doubt it’ll have any impact. Just being seen by Fen Zhong’s people is already good enough. We have no influence—but facts are facts. Their value won’t be ignored.”

She asked: “How’s your funding going?”

Yu Xing gave the same reply: “Waiting… I’m waiting too. I just messaged Shen Nanpeng—he hasn’t replied.”

One in Hong Kong, one in Shanghai—they both waited.

As expected, Nasdaq remained calm that night. A small website in the distant East carried no weight.

But near midnight, Yu Xing received a reply from Shen Nanpeng.

He replied simply: “Okay, I’ll look into it.”

So Yu Xing managed to sleep that night.

January 15, ten days before the Lunar New Year.

Xu Xin had already arranged his team’s holidays when, at 9:30 a.m., he unexpectedly received a call from Shen Nanpeng of Sequoia Capital China.

After pleasantries, Shen Nanpeng asked seriously: “Mr. Xu, how did you decide to invest in JD.com?”

Xu Xin smiled: “We invested. That’s it. You turned down Liu Qiangdong, didn’t you?”

Shen Nanpeng knew he had to show sincerity first: “Mr. Xu, Liu Qiangdong approached me. I hesitated—wanted to invest, didn’t want to invest. In the end, I didn’t.”

Xu Xin listened to the rest.

“Hongshan held a CEO annual meeting for our portfolio companies in Jingcheng. We talked a lot, and everyone agreed that 2009 wouldn’t be good.”

“The financial crisis hit too hard—its chill was colder than winter—so I didn’t invest.”

Hearing this, Xu Xin asked: “If you didn’t invest, then why are you still agonizing over it?”

“I’m a little torn, and a little curious,” Shen Nanpeng said. “So I’d like to hear your thoughts on investing.”

Xu Xin fell silent for a moment, then said: “Pessimism in the market spreads easily, but I believe investing sometimes requires overcoming your own fear.”

She slowly asked: “Mr. Shen, I want to know—how did you personally judge JD? Were those CEOs’ emotions just an excuse for you not to invest?”

Shen Nanpeng froze, suddenly feeling a pang in his chest.

After a few seconds, he admitted: “I thought JD faced fierce competition—Gome, Suning, and Alibaba—it’s just hard to see clearly.”

“So unlike you, I’m not saying JD will definitely win,” Xu Xin shared her view. “But I believe that as long as JD doesn’t collapse quickly under the pressure from Gome, Suning, and Alibaba, the returns will satisfy me. The global economy needs time to recover, but I think our investment in JD can ride through this cycle.”

Shen Nanpeng sighed. “Ms. Xu, I was only slightly torn before—now I’m full of regret.”

Xu Xin laughed loudly: “Then you can wait for the next round.”

Shen Nanpeng sighed again. The next round wouldn’t come at the same price.

He didn’t end the call, and brought up another small matter: “Oh, by the way, there’s another small project—are you investing in Baixiaosheng?”

Xu Xin was surprised: “Why are you interested in it?”

“Its founder messaged me,” Shen Nanpeng replied. “He said Jinri Capital wants to invest in the Series A, and asked if I’m interested.”

Xu Xin was still surprised: “He sent a message, and you got interested?”

“This is what he wrote,” Shen Nanpeng repeated. “Mr. Shen, you’ve already missed JD. Don’t miss us too.”

Xu Xin froze. That familiar stab of betrayal—no wonder Shen Nanpeng had brought up JD.

She had no interest in lying. “It’s true—we’re still negotiating.”

“Then I’ll have someone negotiate the price?” Shen Nanpeng asked bluntly.

Xu Xin felt slightly exasperated: “You don’t even understand it yet, and you’re going to negotiate price?”

Shen Nanpeng smiled. “Ms. Xu, I trust Jinri Capital.”

Jinri Capital had already done its due diligence.

Xu Xin had no reply.

She paused two seconds, then said: “It’s a slightly risky investment.”

“Then I’ll just ask,” Shen Nanpeng said. “If they’re not interested, fine—no hostile bidding. If all else fails, we can pool together. After all, they told me not to miss the next JD.”

Xu Xin replied simply: “Fine.”