Chapter 71: 069 I

As Ma Chuan took his seat, the venue wasn’t just quietly stirred—many media outlets and audience members surged in.

This year’s Internet Conference had nearly 200 media outlets covering it, and their cameras often followed the industry’s rising stars; without doubt, the Alibaba CEO who successfully listed on Xiangjiang last year and secured over $20 billion in market value was among the most watched.

Onstage, Yu Xing watched this scene without speaking a word of welcome, only nodding with a smile at the tycoon, then letting the microphone carry his voice back into the air.

“I remember when I first entered university, I only saw Taobao’s name in the news; later, I gradually saw its fierce competition with eBay. I never imagined that this year, through this path, I’d earn 730,000 yuan in online revenue.”

“Undoubtedly, anyone can see Alibaba will be the leader in China’s e-commerce, especially since it just launched Taobao Mall this year—that’s even more interesting.”

Taobao Mall was what later became Tianmao, operating on a B2C model, launched just this past first half of the year.

In the back row, Ma Chuan gestured to a staff member, signaling he needed a microphone.

Yu Xing saw this, paused his speech, and waited for interaction.

“Huh, huh.” Ma Chuan tested the microphone, selecting a topic he found interesting: “You mentioned Taobao Mall—what’s so interesting about it? I’m curious about young people’s thoughts.”

He interrupted the speech, possibly altering the speaker’s script, but no one in the audience, not even staff, felt it was inappropriate.

“Alright.” Yu Xing nodded calmly. “Let me finish this part first.”

Ma Chuan smiled slightly in surprise, then realized this man onstage was the same odd volunteer he’d seen outside this morning.

“In my view, Taobao’s launch of Taobao Mall aligns with the internet’s developmental stage—it’s a wise move—but its pace needs to accelerate.” Yu Xing laid out his thoughts. “How many stages does China’s internet industry have?”

He answered himself: “The first stage was Sina, NetEase, Sohu—they called themselves the ‘Three Gatekeepers,’ pioneers of Chinese internet. To summarize in one sentence: this stage was the vast latent market built by China’s population.”

“With a latent market came imagination, and thus the first wave of successful internet companies, some of which even went public in the U.S.”

“Now, I believe we’re in the second stage. Taobao is typical of this stage; so are Tencent and Baidu. To summarize in one sentence: as the economy grows, the latent market’s potential is gradually realized, users surge rapidly, and both industry and company growth accelerate dramatically.”

Only after finishing this did Yu Xing respond to Ma Chuan’s question: “Why is Taobao Mall interesting? Because Alibaba has built a platform encompassing multiple models: Alibaba is B2B, Taobao is C2C, Taobao Mall is B2C—this strategic goal is obvious.”

Ma Chuan smiled—it was indeed clear—but hearing a young man speak this way still surprised him.

Yu Xing spoke bluntly: “A company’s strategy is its core. To realize this strategy, even Taobao’s CEO Sun Tongyu had to leave—that shows its importance. The emergence of Taobao Mall carries profound strategic significance.”

Ma Chuan stopped smiling.

His expression grew slightly serious.

Sun Tongyu, Taobao’s former CEO, had resigned from Alibaba, sparking considerable controversy and speculation, because Sun, nicknamed “God of Wealth,” was nearly second only to Ma Chuan in seniority and had personally built Taobao’s growth.

Those who had entered with Ma noticed his change in expression and reached for a microphone, but he blocked them.

Ma Yun said: “It’s fine, Jiang Zong, listen.”

“Taobao Mall reflects Alibaba’s core strategy, but as a shop owner, I feel its momentum since its launch this year hasn’t been strong.” Yu Xing shared his personal experience. “Though it’s just one case, based on my observation and speculation, Taobao’s own C2C growth is fierce—it likely isn’t eager to invest heavily in B2C.”

In that instant, Yu Xing recalled Alibaba’s tensions with shareholder Yahoo and the upcoming expiration of their agreement, and added: “Perhaps this also relates to Alibaba’s equity and financial reports, but purely from a business development standpoint, I believe this judgment is flawed.”

Ma Chuan listened silently.

“There’s already a company in China doing B2C—it’s called Jingdong.” Yu Xing said. “Its revenue last year was under 400 million yuan, less than 1% of Taobao’s, but it’s already carving out an ecological position in e-commerce—it will be a major rival to Taobao Mall.”

Ma Chuan smiled at this, speaking for the second time: “You’re exaggerating. Jingdong is indeed decent.”

The unspoken half of his sentence was naturally: though Jingdong is decent, it’s not seen as a major threat.

Yu Xing nodded, not flustered by being contradicted, but offered a guess: “Ma Zong, though I haven’t seen Taobao Mall’s official launch goals in the news, I have a hypothesis: Taobao Mall still has a defined rival.”

He took two steps forward, standing center stage, and said: “Amazon struggles with localization—no threat. Dangdang struggles to expand from books to all categories—slow going. Jingdong’s revenue is under 1%—can’t make waves.”

“So who qualifies as Taobao Mall’s rival?”

“Is it Suning, with 40 billion yuan in revenue last year? Or Guomei, with 42 billion?”

“Or perhaps the offline home appliance chains represented by Suning and Guomei?”

Yu Xing stood onstage, locking eyes with Ma Chuan in the back row: “Taobao’s C2C moved small offline sellers online—doesn’t Taobao Mall’s B2C aim to move large offline sellers online too?”

The most suitable large offline sellers to move online were precisely home appliances.

Ma Chuan smiled and said: “You’re quite good.”

It was nearly an outright acknowledgment.

Yu Xing stood onstage, inexplicably calm now, unimpressed by the tycoon’s praise—his words weren’t finished.

Seeing Ma Chuan had no further remarks, he resumed: “I personally believe the trend from offline to online is inevitable—even giants like Guomei and Suning can’t stop it—but Jingdong is already doing it.”

“A necessary trend of the times, a business model aligned with that trend, plus an organizational structure suited to the model—this threefold alignment, though Jingdong today is still no match for even a little finger of Taobao.”

“But Taobao itself is a firsthand witness to the internet’s growth magic—Alibaba and Taobao’s experience has proven that as long as you roughly align with the era, the model, and the structure, you can rapidly scale up size and scale.”

“So I say, Taobao Mall’s pace needs to accelerate.”

Yu Xing concluded his argument fully and coherently.

In the back row, Ma Chuan offered no direct evaluation, but asked a question: “You just divided China’s internet industry into two stages—is that the whole point of your speech?”

“Yes.” Yu Xing admitted. “My topic today is ‘The Internet’s Future Through a College Student’s Eyes.’”

Ma Chuan asked: “Are you studying computer science?”

Yu Xing replied: “I’m studying pathology. I’m in my second year of graduate school.”

A look of clear confusion crossed Ma Chuan’s face—what exactly were those characters? A computer-related major?

Seeing this, Yu Xing added: “It’s medicine. I’m a student at Jinling Medical University. My startup project is called ‘Love and Roses’—college couples pay 299 yuan, and if they marry at least three years later, we send them 999 roses—or we’re also considering adding other equivalent gifts.”

Ma Chuan fell silent.

Medicine. Startup. Love and Roses. What did any of this have to do with anything?

He didn’t dwell on it, asking: “Is your speech over?”

“Not yet, almost.” Yu Xing paused briefly, then continued from where he left off: “With users growing rapidly, undoubtedly, success will come to anyone who meets users’ increasing demands.”

Again, a single sentence to summarize each stage.

Ma Chuan nodded, accepting this logic, and asked curiously: “If you divide it this way—from latent market to users—it’s only a few years. Then from today’s users to future demand satisfaction, it won’t take long either—another stage will come soon.”

“Economic growth is accelerating, and the speed at which the market converts potential into users is accelerating too—but user growth isn’t limitless.” Yu Xing said. “It must inevitably follow a curve: from rapid growth, to slowing growth, to stagnation. At that point, competition for traffic becomes essential to avoid being consumed.”

He reached this point, eyes sharp, staring at the tycoon in the back row: “Once we enter the stagnation era, competition among big companies becomes extremely fierce. Tencent leads here—its QQ already leverages traffic advantages and continues expanding and consolidating its traffic.”

“If Alibaba doesn’t control a reliable traffic entry point, it will inevitably fall behind in future competition.”

“And if you don’t want to fall behind in the future, you must compete with Tencent now—there’s no point in sharpening your blade only when the moment arrives.”

Ma Chuan fell silent.

After a moment, he smiled: “I’ll go find Pony and ask him to share some traffic with us.”

Yu Xing didn’t joke with Ma Chuan—he said coldly: “Traffic can’t be shared—it must be fought for.”

Ma Chuan’s companion couldn’t hold back anymore—Who the hell are you, lecturing us like this?!

He signaled staff to hand him a microphone.

“From market to users to demand to traffic—that’s a good division. The logic is self-consistent.” Ma Chuan didn’t mind the student’s tone, smiling: “You say users won’t grow much anymore, everyone’s fighting over stagnation—what future does the industry still have?”

Yu Xing nodded, surprisingly adding another stage: “If we enter the stagnation era, data’s significance will become extraordinarily important—its value will be developed to an unprecedented degree, even groundbreaking.”

Like AI, which needs data to feed it.

Ma Chuan nodded slightly. Though abstract, a self-consistent industry logic was rare.

At this moment, Yu Xing said his final words: “Of course, different stages aren’t isolated—just like this year’s Internet Conference theme: ‘Integration Promotes Development, Penetration Creates Value.’ Thank you, my speech is finished.”

Thus, the entire speech looped back to the conference’s theme.

Song Yufeng listened to Yu Xing’s speech, to his dialogue with Ma Chuan, and for some reason, felt overwhelming excitement by the end, followed by vigorous applause.

Yet his applause was unremarkable, drowned out by the enthusiastic clapping of the audience and guests.

Many media outlets also didn’t spare their cameras, capturing close-ups of the student entrepreneur onstage.

Ma Chuan didn’t rise, but once applause slightly subsided, he picked up the microphone again: “Young man, you’re excellent—would you be interested in trying out at Alibaba?”

Yu Xing had just bowed and taken two steps toward leaving the stage. Hearing this, he stepped back two steps, picked up the microphone, and said, slightly excited: “Me? Uh… what about my company?”

Ma Chuan’s companion nearly laughed in anger—Ma Zong invited you, and you’re not willing to die for a true friend?

Yu Xing continued: “Uh, my company—today, Mu Zong from Baihe.com offered me 1.5 million yuan to acquire it. I haven’t accepted yet. Ma Zong, would you be willing to offer 2 million?”

One point five million, two million—these figures seemed paltry compared to the industry-level discourse just moments ago.

Ma Chuan couldn’t help laughing.

Yu Xing seemed to think for two seconds, then stopped him: “Ma Zong, don’t nod—I won’t discuss this. Alibaba lacks relevant business foundations. I must be responsible for my team—they’re mostly students, like me.”

Ma Chuan froze for half a second—I never intended to nod.

Then he understood the tactic, laughing harder: “Alright, Yu Xing, you’re sharp. Welcome to try out at Alibaba someday.”

Ma Chuan rose, ending this unexpected exchange.

But someone beside Ma Chuan, who hadn’t gotten to speak, felt uneasy and picked up the microphone to advise: “Young people should do more grounded work.”

The open microphone made the advice audible to all—effectively a public rebuke.

Yu Xing, holding his own microphone, asked: “How should I address you?”

He didn’t answer; someone beside him gave his identity: “This is Jiang Zong from Focus Media. When he rang the bell at Nasdaq, Yu, you were probably still studying hard in school.”

Yu Xing understood some successful people: if you displease them, you’re seen as disrespectful; if your status differs, you’re not even judged on whether your words are right—some even want biological isolation.

He was about to reply when a sudden familiarity struck him—Focus Media, Focus Media…

Was this the U.S.-listed company that was repeatedly questioned five times by the short-seller Mudrick Capital?

Its founder’s name was distinctive, easy to remember: Jiang Nan-chun.

So, was this Jiang Zong?

Yu Xing’s gaze grew deeper. He smiled and replied: “So it’s Focus Media. I’ve heard of it. I hope I can build my company well, and one day become a major client, placing plenty of ads with Focus Media.”

No matter how big it was, Focus Media was fundamentally an advertising company, mainly doing elevator ads.

Jiang Nan-chun glanced at the spirited student, lost interest in further conversation, and turned away, surrounded by followers.

Yu Xing stepped down from the stage.

Song Yufeng rushed forward, thrilled by the performance and moved by the unyielding composure.

He patted Yu Xing’s arm and could only say one word: “Xing Ge…”

Yu Xing was in good spirits too; he thought of Du Mu’s “Spring in the South” and smiled as he mused, “Four hundred and eighty temples of the Southern Dynasties, how many terraces and pavilions lost in mist and rain, how many terraces and pavilions lost in mist and rain.”

Song Yufeng frowned in confusion: ?

Mu Yan, who had just walked over, heard this and said, “That’s Du Mu’s ‘Spring in the South’.”

Not just him—Gong Haiyan from JiShiJiaYuan and Li Song from ZhenAi.com also walked over one after the other.

Yu Xing’s gaze grew deep; he smiled faintly. “I know ‘Spring in the South.’”

I’ve heard of you, I’ve seen you—now I’ll test you.

See if you’re grounded too.

(End of Chapter)