Chapter 11

June 15, late at night.

Yu Xing, after a hot shower, sat at his desk, turned on the desk lamp, then got up to switch off the dorm ceiling light, pulled a lighter from the drawer, and lit a Red Nanjing cigarette he’d swiped from the neighboring dorm.

His former roommates had all gone to hospitals for internships; he was already accustomed to the quiet of night.

Smoke curled and blurred under the desk lamp, but the project he’d been scrambling with these past days grew clearer in his mind.

Thanks to Liu Wan’s crude mathematical model, Yu Xing had tested different pricing schemes to calculate probabilities; the inferred probabilities had never exceeded 3.75%, with the lowest falling below 1%.

The essence of this product is probability.

In fact, its prototype was mostly insurance-based: Anxin Insurance’s Gift Edition, Chang’an Insurance’s Diamond Edition, Tian’an Insurance’s Rose Edition, Taiping Insurance’s Cash Edition… at least a dozen or more similar products.

Are insurance companies innovating enthusiastically to benefit their customers?

Clearly, after meticulous calculations and detailed investigations, they confirmed these products were guaranteed profits with no risk of loss.

Once the core was established, the product’s beginning and end became simple.

Now, the only real difference lies in who backs it—the trust of customers—but this merely affects how much profit is made.

Yu Xing crushed the cigarette butt in a makeshift ashtray, reached for his notebook, and sketched a SWOT analysis table—a common method based on four dimensions: Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats.

He pressed his pen tip against “Threats,” first wondering why those innovative insurance products had vanished.

A stable-profit product suddenly disappearing could only mean interference from above—most directly, the Insurance Regulatory Commission.

Why?

Yu Xing had never thought about this before, but today he couldn’t help pondering it; after much deliberation, he suspected the Insurance Regulatory Commission and similar bodies deemed it damaging.

What if this damaging effect, originating from insurance companies, were transferred to a non-insurance romantic contract?

It wouldn’t fall under the Insurance Law, but under the Contract Law—would such threats still exist?

Yu Xing pondered for a moment, picked up his phone, searched legal texts, and studied them word by word, line by line.

His earlier exchanges with Liu Wan had indeed avoided the wrong direction, but this aspect still demanded attention, still deserved thought.

Long after, Yu Xing stared at a single word on his phone screen and wrote it in his notebook.

—Public order and good customs.

Beyond legality, it must not violate public order and good customs.

As for how public order and good customs are defined…

Yu Xing circled the word with his pen tip, roughly grasped the threat his product faced in this regard, then instantly recalled Liu Wan’s two suggestions—its value now seemed to rise further.

Public order and good customs have no precise regulations; the same act might yield different outcomes in two different cities.

Yet, if one recognized this risk from the outset, measures existed to mitigate the threat.

Yu Xing’s mind conjured promotional ideas: selecting clients’ elders to host free gold or silver wedding anniversary ceremonies, even gathering multiple such couples for collective commemorations.

Paired with media coverage, this could steer public perception toward the positive…

Yu Xing wrote a “ Zheng ” character, hesitated for seconds, then crossed it out.

Destruction is easy; construction is hard. If one had money and resources, such promotion could proceed, but to significantly offset that threat? He couldn’t be too optimistic.

With no barriers to entry and easy replication, when similar competitors emerged, would they make such investments?

If they didn’t, how effective could his own investment be?

Good deeds stay hidden; bad deeds spread far.

It’s already a niche vertical market; to those above, what impact could it possibly have? If it vanished, so be it.

So…

Yu Xing picked up his notebook, staring at the probability calculations within.

Once the core was established, the product in his mind naturally grew flesh and blood.

Such a fully formed product was unquestionably viable.

Yet, building a normal product—anticipating risks early, refining the team, pursuing long-term vitality—was clearly the right approach.

But if the goal shifted to finding a white knight, the approach changed entirely.

Yu Xing recalled Liu Wan had only verbally offered two suggestions, yet actually gave three—scale it up, sell it to potential rivals like Jiayuan, Baihe, or Zhen’ai—those were her words after the two suggestions.

And the internet giants he himself had thought of.

If so, the only thing to do now—and for the foreseeable future—was to rapidly scale the project, not patiently craft its skeleton and flesh.

With different outcomes as the goal, the execution became entirely different.

How to choose?

Yu Xing’s gaze grew distant; in the silent night, it felt as if those three true selves had reappeared beside him.

What would the accountant, the boss, the belt do?

Yu Xing seemed to hear their voices.

Bluff! Burn cash! Leverage!

Yu Xing took a deep breath; the dorm remained silent.

He raised his hand and slashed through every formula and process in his notebook, top to bottom, left to right—the flesh and blood of his product in his mind seemed to wither instantly.

This probability game was fun, but if there was no final redemption mechanism, the probability itself ceased to matter.

If the sole aim was to exit the project, the core naturally shifted—product probability no longer needed attention; focus solely on scaling up.

Yu Xing closed his notebook, checked his phone’s time: exactly three months until September 15’s financial storm.

In other words, time was indeed running out.

If he could sell the project, the money in hand would be enough to delight an ordinary person.

Zhong Zhiling was ordinary. Lu Haiying was ordinary.

He himself was ordinary.

Yu Xing turned off the desk lamp, lay on his bed, and pondered: he and Zhong Zhiling were just two ordinary debtors; if the money could fill the deficit, that would be best—if not, it would still quickly ease the situation.

Even, if the battle could be resolved before September, both could return to normal lives.

Yu Xing’s mind surfaced his junior’s weary words—I just want to be a plain, ordinary doctor.

He’d spent his life exploding bombs—didn’t he also want to be a plain, ordinary doctor? Or, not even a doctor—just buy a house, buy some coins, enjoy life? That would be quite nice too.

Yu Xing closed his eyes, but two radically different corporate operation models suddenly pierced his mind, crystal clear.

Though he had plenty of work experience, some team management experience, this was his first time experiencing how top-level design could make the project’s operation entirely different.

In the darkness, Yu Xing’s lips curled into a faint smile.

It felt good.

He rolled onto his side, stopped thinking about the project, and silently repeated words like “earn money,” “buy a house,” “buy coins” to lull himself to sleep.

After who knew how long, utterly sleepless, Yu Xing suddenly opened his eyes—a heart-stopping thought slipped quietly into his mind: buy coins, buy coins—why must I buy coins? Why can’t I build an exchange?

The night remained silent; the true selves sank into stillness.

Yu Xing’s thought shifted slightly—he felt it was too distant; doing the present task well mattered most. Whether aiming for long-term operation or finding a white knight, the first priority now was to pressure Liu Wan.

The company in Xiangjiang needed to be registered first; once that was done, it instantly added a digital endorsement—our registered capital: five million.

Unlike the mainland, which still required capital verification, Xiangjiang had no such requirement.

Without deliberate explanation, this would surely reassure many clients.

As long as clients came in, given the final probability, the white knight would also be responsible to them, wouldn’t he?

Worst case, when I buy…

Yu Xing paused, then thought: anyway, I’ll definitely take responsibility in the future.