Chapter 50: 049 Smart Bones and Public Apology (10,000 Words for Monthly Votes)

On the last day of July, work ended at GuiAi Network’s Shanghai headquarters.

Technically, GuiAi Network had no official headquarters, but since Yu Xing was in Shanghai, Jin Ling—with its larger team and higher revenue—became the primary branch.

At eight p.m., Yu Xing settled the final wages for a departing team leader and took the three key figures and heartbroken Song Yufeng to a street food stall.

Zhong Zhiling had originally advocated selling the journalist, but seeing how quiet and withdrawn he was—completely unlike his earlier cheerful, talkative self—he felt a pang of pity for this soft-boned man.

“Here, Brother Feng, thanks for your help.” Zhong Zhiling poured beer. “Things will get better.”

Song Yufeng took only a sip and said, lifeless: “Your lives will get better. I’ve got no job, no girlfriend, no future, no savings—I’ve got nothing.”

Zhong Zhiling downed his beer, his pity deepening: “Brother Feng, you didn’t save anything?”

“Yeah, I’ve got 120,000 in my account,” Song Yufeng shook his head. “But it’s not enough for anything.”

Zhong Zhiling, who was debt-financed himself, instantly withdrew all pity and remarked: “Who told you to take our transportation fees? Who told you not to refuse An Jiadong’s inquiries?”

Song Yufeng had no answer. Sometimes he felt he’d done nothing wrong; other times, he knew he had.

“Enough, Zhiling,” Yu Xing frowned, took a large gulp of iced beer, then turned to Song Yufeng: “Honestly, the idea I mentioned this evening—I really think you should try it. Since you’re clean and can’t find a proper job, use that clean record to build something.”

Song Yufeng chuckled: “Me? Build a clean business? What do I even have to build it with?”

Yu Xing repeated the information he’d just heard: “Use the 120,000 in your account.”

Song Yufeng sighed: “Yu Zong, do you really want me dead? That’s my last money. Investing it in a startup is like throwing a stone into water—might not even make a splash.”

“Hey, Brother Feng, I’m serious,” Yu Xing mused. “You’ve got a sliver of fame—everyone thinks you’ve got hard bones. Build a site like this. If they sue you, rebuild it. Every time you rebuild, your bones get harder, and your site’s reputation grows.”

Song Yufeng sneered: “And then? How do you make money? Plan to extort big companies?”

Yu Xing shook his head: “No, no, no—that’s low-class. If you attract a flood of employees from big and mid-sized firms, once you build scale, ad revenue, membership fees, or recruitment services will naturally follow. That’s how you earn money standing tall. That’s called earning with hard bones.”

Song Yufeng’s head throbbed at the words “hard bones.” Earlier that evening, his parents had called, asking about his recent troubles—he didn’t know who’d leaked the news to them.

He gulped down two mouthfuls of beer, slammed his cup on the table, stared at the fading foam, and swore: “Let whoever wants to be a hard bone be one! From now on, I’m going to be a soft bone! Do you understand what ‘blending with the light’ means? Yu Zong, if you think it’s so great, go do it yourself! Stop dragging me into this!”

Yu Xing shrugged. He’d only been trying to help.

He shook his head and raised his cup: “Alright, I was just chatting. Don’t take it to heart.”

Song Yufeng was in low spirits but still controlled his drinking, unwilling to repeat the same mistake.

Yet the more he sipped, the quieter he grew, especially as he listened to the two college students’ passionate talk about startups—he grew increasingly gloomy.

That night, back home, Song Yufeng lay alone in bed and suddenly felt overwhelming sorrow.

His girlfriend was gone.

Hadn’t she promised to stay in this city? Why had she returned to her hometown so decisively?

No TV noise, no music, no voices—only the distant, muffled hum of the city outside the window.

Song Yufeng thought of everything he’d lost—and burst into loud, wrenching sobs.

Gone! Truly gone!

As he wept, his bedside phone suddenly rang.

Song Yufeng immediately reached for it, thinking it was his girlfriend, Yin Baoyi, coming back—but the caller ID showed Kong Huilin, the Penguin reporter who’d interviewed him.

Kong Huilin had been a journalist even less time than he had; last time she’d said it was only half a year.

Song Yufeng answered the call and greeted her.

“Brother Feng, your voice sounds off?” Kong Huilin sensed something strange.

Song Yufeng covered: “Just a bit of a stuffy nose. Stress lately—you know, leaving NetEase upset a lot of people.”

Kong Huilin immediately said: “Yes, that must be incredibly stressful. I truly admire you—I admire your hard bones, Brother Feng.”

Song Yufeng coughed, as if his tears had instantly retreated.

He demurred: “I only did something trivial. Anyone could do it if they reached a point that moved them.”

“Brother Feng, I’ve been in Shanghai lately. Uh… tomorrow night, do you have time?” Her voice was soft, shy. “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

Song Yufeng perked up, speaking slowly: “Tomorrow… alright. I’ll treat you. It’s only right—I’m the local.”

Kong Huilin smiled: “Won’t it interfere with your plans? Are you settling into a job? Will you stay a journalist?”

Song Yufeng pictured Kong’s lovely face and pale skin—and blurted out: “Oh, probably not. I’m considering starting a business—something that spreads more light to more places.”

Kong Huilin was astonished, yet admiring: “Really? Brother Feng, I believe in you. You’ll succeed. If someone like you can’t succeed, it’s a tragedy for our society.”

Song Yufeng grabbed a tissue, wiped his tears, and suddenly felt less heartbroken. The soft bone who’d vowed to blend with the light now felt his bones harden. He laughed aloud: “Ha, Huilin, may I call you that? The market is objective—it doesn’t reward virtue or punish vice. But I do have real startup ideas.”

He recalled the conversation from dinner, then linked it to a movie he’d watched, and asked: “Huilin, have you seen The Shawshank Redemption?”

Kong Huilin replied: “Of course. Some birds aren’t meant to be caged—their feathers shimmer with the light of freedom. Brother Feng, I think you’re exactly that bird, whose feathers shine with freedom.”

“You flatter me too much,” Song Yufeng said modestly, then added: “But I’m not boasting—I’ve always had hard bones. What I mean is this: ‘Redemption lies within.’”

He spoke solemnly: “My path to startup success lies in hard bones.”

The city’s lights dimmed; night grew quiet—but the phone call lasted a very, very long time.

…

On the first day of August, Yu Xing had just arrived at the office and was sipping porridge when a shadow fell across his vision.

He looked up—it was Song Soft-Bone, who’d been wallowing in self-pity yesterday.

“Don’t bother me with love troubles, bro. I’m swamped today—I’ve got to set up a stall at the mall.” Yu Xing lowered his head again and continued eating. “The recording’s been destroyed. No need to worry.”

Song Yufeng sat down and smiled: “Oh, Yu Zong, you say that? I’m not worried about the recording—it wasn’t you forcing me to speak. I made my own mistakes. Last night, I realized these lessons were deserved.”

Yu Xing raised an eyebrow. Had he turned into a saint overnight?

“I lay awake all night thinking about my future,” Song Yufeng said seriously. “I believe your suggestion yesterday wasn’t idle talk. Do you really think an anonymous workplace community has a future?”

Yu Xing waved his hand, didn’t answer immediately, quickly finished his porridge and steamed bun, then tossed the rest into the trash and declared firmly: “Definitely no future.”

Song Yufeng blinked: “Huh?”

“Have you ever started a business? Know what pitfalls to avoid?” Yu Xing asked.

Song Yufeng bristled: “You don’t have much experience either! Before this, weren’t you just a med student?”

Yu Xing nodded: “True. Then let me put it this way: Can you handle pressure? Internal pressure, corporate pressure—even lawsuits and all that?”

If it were any other question, he might argue.

But he knew himself best.

Song Yufeng couldn’t handle pressure—he was the type who needed to be pushed and pressured to move forward.

“Then why did you tell me about the community, about anonymity…?” Song Yufeng asked.

“Yes, the idea’s valid. The path is possible—but the journey will be full of setbacks,” Yu Xing said calmly. “Brother Feng, look at the big companies—Sina, NetEase, Sohu, Tencent, Baidu, Alibaba—they’ve spread into so many industries. To make a mark now, you need vertical niches.”

“Like what I’m doing—it’s a vertical niche. We can’t compete with them on resources or money.”

“So I still think my suggestion is sound.”

“If you want to do it, wait until I go bankrupt. Then we’ll see if we can make something happen. Don’t rush. Absolutely don’t rush.”

Yu Xing wasn’t in a hurry—his products hadn’t even sold yet.

Song Yufeng was genuinely anxious: “Then what should I do now?”

“See? You’re anxious again,” Yu Xing frowned. “Yesterday you vowed to be a soft bone; today you want to stand and earn. Your wavering willpower? At this stage, you’re utterly unsuited for entrepreneurship. Think—what qualities should a founder have?”

Song Yufeng thought hard—and immediately pictured the college student before him: patient as a wolf, ambush-ready as a tiger, cunning as a fox, decisive as an eagle, changeable as a dog…

His morning enthusiasm vanished; doubt crept back in.

Song Yufeng muttered: “Wait until you go bankrupt? That’ll take centuries!”

Yu Xing couldn’t help laughing: “Alright, you said something that made me happy. When GuiAi Network gets on track, we might have a chance to collaborate—if you think everything through.”

Song Yufeng frowned, yet felt the sincerity in his words.

Rushing won’t let you eat hot tofu.

Yu Xing studied his expression, still puzzled: “Did you have an epiphany overnight? Weren’t you going to be a soft bone? Weren’t you going to blend with the light?”

Song Yufeng waved his hand: “That was just a momentary outburst. Yu Zong, you don’t know me well—I’m inherently fearless of power.”

Yu Xing didn’t understand this shift, but regardless of whether this man feared authority or not, he considered briefly and said: “The NetEase director contacted me again last night. We’re arranging to meet at NetEase on Saturday to formally close the matter. Will you come with me?”

Song Yufeng had already refused once yesterday.

He still wanted to refuse—but when he looked up and met Yu Xing’s unreadable gaze, he suddenly understood the meaning behind the words.

To stand and earn, to be a hard bone, to grasp startup strategy—you had to show some commitment.

A flash of clarity struck Song Yufeng: this was his letter of introduction.

He uttered one word: “Go.”

Yu Xing was surprised, then probed: “Can the Internet Conference help me think of better ideas?”

Song Yufeng thought it over, then agreed: “Alright. I have a professor who’s deputy editor-in-chief at a newspaper—I’ll reach out to him.”

Yu Xing pressed further: “Brother Feng, I want Century Love, GuiAi, and Baihe to hear my voice. I plan to lure them with profit. Can you get media to give me an exclusive interview—right after NetEase apologizes, and after I respond to the online smear campaigns? I plan to announce GuiAi Network’s annual revenue target: ten million. I want to be packaged as a rising star.”

Song Yufeng rubbed his face, scratching his head: “That… that’ll probably require bribes. I’ll try.”

Yu Xing threw out another idea: “Brother Feng, you can start building your site right now. Take the 120,000 from your account.”

Song Yufeng stood up, warning: “Yu Zong, don’t push too far! I have boundaries! I won’t touch my 120,000!”

Yu Xing shrugged: “Just joking.”

He said sincerely: “Thanks, Brother Feng. And yes, I meant what I said about building the site—I’ve already named it: ‘Those Things.’ If it gets sued or shut down, rebuild it as ‘Just Those Things,’ ‘Still Those Things,’ ‘These Things’—each time you rebuild, you grow stronger.”

Song Yufeng’s mouth fell open: “Huh? You’ve already prepared for lawsuits and shutdowns?”

“I just think—if we really do this, with no resources or connections, we’ll likely get shut down several times. But that’s not a bad thing,” Yu Xing smiled. “Brother Feng, if you’ve got nowhere to go right now, come work with GuiAi Network. Help us with media.”

Song Yufeng didn’t answer immediately—he took a breath: “I’ll think about it.”

Yu Xing snapped his fingers: “No problem.”

He didn’t know why the soft bone had suddenly turned hard—but it was good for GuiAi Network.

Yu Xing hadn’t waited for the dating brands to move—he had to create his own disturbance. Announcing a revenue target would surely stir up trouble, but that was exactly what he wanted: to make the snake emerge from the grass.

Similarly, the internet conference to be held in Jin Ling next month is also an opportunity for exposure.

The past few days have proven by fact that traffic truly is money.

Under the blazing sun, the daily routine on the first day of August unfolded amid sweat.

Yu Xing was extremely busy this day—on one hand listening to reports on street vending conditions across regions, on the other hand dealing with mall security guards and urban management officers who kept showing up to drive them away; even invoking the excuse of “university social research” made little difference.

Conducting activities on campus versus in society are two entirely different levels of difficulty.

Similarly, the difficulty of customer conversion is not on the same level.

Overall, the conversion rate for campus customers is roughly 10%—out of 100 couples, about 10 orders are secured—while the conversion rate for social customers today was under 2%.

Social customers asked questions similar to campus customers, and Yu Xing’s team gave the same answers, but the former typically responded with indifference and showed little interest in paying.

Yu Xing secured two orders only after making repeated guarantees and citing Xiangjiang Company’s registered capital of 10 million.

At the end of the day, Yu Xing heard similar laments from the team leader.

“This is too hard—their eyes make you feel like a thief!”

“Big Brother Yu, social customers are incredibly hard to deal with!”

“If we rely on these offline orders, we’ll starve!”

Although today was just the first day’s anomaly, if things continue like this, 10% divided by 2% equals 5—meaning Gui Ai Net’s order volume would plummet from campus to society at a level unsustainable for current staff and operational costs.

Yu Xing had already calculated it in his head, but he couldn’t let morale drop—he smiled and comforted them: “Our brand hasn’t taken off yet; it’ll get better gradually.”

When they returned to the office, Zhong Zhiling—who had also gone out to set up stalls today—was already sitting there with a serious expression. The first thing he said to his senior was: “We really still need to sell; this trend of market expansion is terrible.”

Yu Xing wasn’t too discouraged: “So, the difficulty of August was expected—it’s just another confirmation.”

Zhong Zhiling shook his head: “Big Brother Yu, you’re truly clear-headed.”

“Not exactly clear-headed,” Yu Xing said. “I just don’t let myself be overly optimistic—I always keep a layer of caution in mind.”

He tossed a cigarette to the third-in-command and smiled: “Think of something cheerful—soon we’ll accept NetEase’s apology, and that’ll drive traffic to our online store again. If Song Yufeng pulls through, we might even land an interview, drawing the attention of the dating brand market with revenue—and then this whole thing will be mostly settled, at worst we sell it for peanuts.”

Zhong Zhiling lit the cigarette, took a drag, and for the first time today, his gloomy mood lifted slightly.

Gui Ai Net’s social expansion didn’t improve with time—or at best, improved by a sliver.

From Tuesday to Friday, over four days and based on performance across five cities, the conversion rate among social customers hovered around 3%—some employees did slightly better, others worse, but no one exceeded much, and the lowest hit zero.

By Saturday morning at nine, the newly appointed director Zhuo Shiming waited outside the company gate, ready to publicly apologize to the competitor as required.

He didn’t want to do this, but after repeated negotiations with Yu Xing yielded no concessions, he finally decided: better to apologize early and be done with it.

At 8:55 a.m., two vans arrived beneath NetEase’s Shanghai branch building.

The van doors slid open sideways; a young man in a white T-shirt jumped out first, followed by a swarm of youths pouring out of both vans, laughing and chatting as if on a field trip.

“Hello, I’m Yu Xing. You must be Director Zhuo.”

The young man scanned the surroundings, spotted his target, stepped forward, and extended his hand for an introduction.

Zhuo Shiming gripped his hand with a grim expression and whispered: “Director Yu, what are you doing? Why are they all holding up their phones? Let’s go upstairs and talk.”

“Nah, it’s just an apology—we won’t go upstairs,” Yu Xing shouted loudly. “We’re not afraid of being filmed—otherwise, what’s the point of ‘public and legitimate’? Come on, I’m ready.”

Zhuo Shiming felt the natural pressure of filming and said discontentedly: “Director Yu, do you really need such a spectacle? We should uphold decency, kindness, humility, frugality, and courtesy.”

“Director Zhuo says people should be decent, kind, humble, frugal, and courteous,” Yu Xing released his hand, turned to face the multitude of phones and grinning student staff, and also addressed the reporters further back, raising his voice: “But I must say—morality first restrains oneself; you must restrain yourself before demanding it of others.”

“Secondly…”

He turned back to Director Zhuo and smiled: “Secondly, mind your own business—don’t meddle in mine!”

Yu Xing paused, keeping his volume steady: “Finally—can we begin the apology now?”

Zhuo Shiming looked at this young man’s aggressive demeanor and finally understood the spirit of university students.

He froze for several seconds, then nodded repeatedly and said solemnly: “On behalf of NetEase, I apologize for the actions of our ‘NetEase Dating’ department toward Gui Ai Net. Director Yu, I’m sorry.”

Better to apologize early and be done—what else could they do after apologizing?

Yu Xing extended his right hand and gripped firmly.

After shaking, Zhuo Shiming tried to pull away—but his hand was held tight.

“My apologies,” Yu Xing said quietly, yet politely, then raised his voice again with a smile: “I accept NetEase’s apology. I hope Gui Ai Net, after this storm, will stride forward boldly and chase its annual revenue target of 10 million!”

Phones around them recorded the moment; nearby reporters captured the handshake and declaration beneath the NetEase logo.

NetEase employees all wore gloomy faces; Director Zhuo Shiming’s expression was stiff. On Gui Ai Net’s side, the students were relaxed and varied; Yu Xing himself beamed brightly.

The stark contrast between the two sides in the footage was unmistakable.

Zhuo Shiming had originally thought this was just university students taking advantage and acting without restraint—but when he heard “My apologies,” his mind suddenly felt doused in cold water. Is this a normal university student?

If this is a normal university student, I’ll go eat two Fujianese raw right now!

“You can let go now,” Zhuo Shiming said in a low, steady tone.

Yu Xing released his hand, ignored Zhuo Shiming’s emotions, turned to his own staff, raised his right hand high, extended one finger, and declared his goal once more with firm resolve:

“Ten million!”

This was Gui Ai Net’s stated revenue target—and also the bait Yu Xing had thrown at the traditional dating brands beneath NetEase’s building.