Chapter 76: The Beginning and End of a Working Life (7k)

Yu Xing returned to Shanghai with Zhong Zhiling and Song Yufeng, arriving at headquarters.

The three sat in the small office, each silently reflective.

The company is being sold—it really is being sold…

In just three short months—or even less than three months in this tiny office—it had held discussions about business, replies to Taobao customers as customer service, meals eaten together while sitting or squatting, the cramped chaos where employees couldn’t even stand…

Song Yufeng’s emotions were perhaps more complex; faint echoes of his ex-girlfriend’s voice and smile still lingered here.

“A new journey begins. Tomorrow, ask Xiao Liu if he’d like to join the new company,” Yu Xing mentioned, referring to the programmer. “As for the others, Zhen’ai Network won’t change anything—your commissions will still be paid, though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Zhen’ai Network’s acquisition of Guiai Network will have a transition phase, but how long can it tolerate such high commissions…

It probably won’t last long.

Yu Xing thought for a moment and asked, “Where do you think would be the best city to operate Baixiaosheng?”

Zhong Zhiling answered without hesitation: “I think it should stay in Shanghai.”

Yu Xing gestured for him to continue.

“This website’s nature is unusual—it might attract lawsuits from big tech firms later,” Zhong Zhiling explained his reasoning. “There are only a few cities suited for internet companies: Beijing has Baidu, Hangzhou has Alibaba, Shenzhen has Tencent, Guangzhou has NetEase, and Nanjing—we’ve never operated there. Shanghai feels right.”

Yu Xing praised: “Zhiling, your thinking is excellent now. We must trust the law, but we must also create conditions to protect ourselves. Fengge, any constructive suggestions?”

Song Yufeng, suddenly asked by his boss, let out a loud “Hmm!”

“If you have no ideas, no need to shout,” Yu Xing said.

Song Yufeng silently shrank back, wondering why his mind went completely blank whenever he listened to their conversation.

He quietly took a breath—he must hold firm to his two core value positions!

Otherwise, if the company remains mediocre, fine—but if it grows stronger, his own space will be severely squeezed.

Song Yufeng kept listening as the two discussed, quickly realizing company roles were already being swiftly assigned: Lu Haiying as CEO, Zhong Zhiling as Chief Operating Officer, and the absent CEO? Obviously Yu Zong…

Then what about him?

“Fengge, the company needs a board—you’ll be chairman,” Yu Xing remembered the hard bone and assigned him. “Baixiaosheng will actively engage with investment institutions; you’ll need to pay close attention to this.”

Song Yufeng was stunned—chairman? How prestigious…

Even though the company had A/B shares and voting rights rested entirely with Yu Zong and his junior partners, this would likely just be a figurehead…

But still—how prestigious!

A figurehead, at least, is auspicious!

This time, Song Yufeng didn’t hesitate—he accepted the chairmanship in his capacity as legal representative, without modesty.

Yu Xing and Zhong Zhiling talked for a long while—about the company, the website, the domain, recruitment…

All these needed to launch within three months. Also, running the website was a new experience; all he could offer now was the first strike and some initial ideas—the new project still required everyone’s joint exploration.

But just as Guiai Network entered a vertical niche, so too must Baixiaosheng: it must compete against itself, not against existing rivals.

From this perspective, Yu Xing felt confident about the new project’s development; his reflections confirmed that vertical niche targeting was indeed a powerful tool in this era.

That evening, the three ate dinner together before parting ways.

At home, Song Yufeng pondered his current situation, weighed pros and cons, then called his ex-girlfriend Yin Baoyi: first to inform her the equity had paid off, and second, to curse her out the moment she showed signs of dissatisfaction.

Yin Baoyi was left speechless; by the end, even legal threats were issued. She felt both incredulous and deeply wronged: “You—you’ve changed!!”

Song Yufeng suppressed his complex emotions and coldly said his final words: “Take care of yourself.”

He placed the phone on the table.

Song Yufeng sighed deeply, hoping his ex wouldn’t do anything foolish—Yu Zong didn’t sound like someone who made empty threats…

A few seconds later, the phone vibrated.

Song Yufeng assumed it was his ex calling back, but when he looked, it was Kong Huilin, still in the ambiguous phase—he immediately set aside his inner turmoil and switched to a soft, affectionate tone.

“I’ve been swamped these past two days—the company’s about to launch. I just got back to Shanghai this evening, and we just held a board meeting where everyone enthusiastically nominated me as chairman.”

“I really didn’t want to take it—Yu Xing Yu Zong talked with me for a long time, pleaded and persuaded, and I finally agreed reluctantly.”

“Ah, this trip to Nanjing for the internet industry conference was truly enlightening.”

Song Yufeng slightly embellished the facts.

Kong Huilin was delighted for Fengge and laughed: “So this company will be run with Yu Xing, Zhong Zhiling, and other college students? Do they have any internet experience?”

“Starting a company requires capital,” Song Yufeng first explained, then paused slightly and added, “Yu Xing Yu Zong—he’s capable.”

He’d wanted to add, “But he still needs more polishing,” but ultimately couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Kong Huilin congratulated: “Then I wish Chairman Song a smooth and prosperous career!”

Another late-night phone chat began.

…

The formal sale of Guiai Network proceeded as scheduled, with no issues.

The only flaw arose when Wei Jialan, after reviewing financial data from five cities, asked about one thing.

“The reimbursement expenses in Beijing are much higher than in the other four cities,” Wei Jialan asked cautiously.

“Yes, that’s right—Beijing was handled by Qiu Shixiu and Yan Qiuzhen,” Yu Xing explained. “Perhaps operational and living costs there are higher.”

Wei Jialan pulled out several clearly unreasonable reimbursement receipts: “These don’t look right—there may be problems here.”

Yu Xing frowned: “What should we do? We’ve grown too fast, our management isn’t up to par.”

Wei Jialan thought—college students were easy to scare. Also, though she didn’t plan to restructure Guiai Network’s current team, any problems could be used later to apply both carrot and stick.

She smiled: “This won’t affect our cooperation—we’ll discuss it later.”

Yu Xing had no objection.

Besides mentioning the minor Beijing issue, Wei Jialan had another question: “Yu Zong, I see your August social customer revenue reached nearly 480,000. As we discussed earlier, social and campus markets are very different—what special methods or insights did you use to expand?”

Yu Xing gave a serious, concise answer: “Wei Zong, treat people with sincerity.”

Wei Jialan waited for more.

Long silence followed.

She asked, startled: “That’s it?”

Yu Xing nodded: “Hmm.” Then asked, “What else?”

Wei Jialan laughed in exasperation: “You can’t just have your team set up stalls at commercial squares and expect orders to come. How exactly did you demonstrate this sincerity?”

“Demonstrate?” Yu Xing hesitated. “Does it need demonstration? Uh, Wei Zong, if you insist—I mean, when you came to me before, you just put cash on my desk. That showed sincerity. How did you even think of doing that?”

Wei Jialan opened her mouth, thought for several seconds, then smiled: “Yu Zong, we really need to properly summarize Guiai Network’s success.”

Yu Xing nodded: “Yes, I planned to summarize too—but your sincerity moved me before I even started. Whether campus or social, if there are orders and rapid growth, there’s objective demand—we just need to think and summarize carefully.”

Wei Jialan agreed—reality before her was the most objective proof.

Yu Xing watched Wei Jialan review the order contracts, made no further objections, and felt a slight relief.

The expansion from campus to social markets was a substantial part, and Guiai Network had worked hard to complete it—many orders presented to the buyer bore the signatures of former employees.

Meanwhile, not all cities performed well—the five cities’ orders varied in quality.

Review, review, review—sign, sign, sign…

As founding team members, Yu Xing, Zhong Zhiling, and Lu Haiying all signed non-compete agreements; Zhen’ai Network cared only for Yu Xing—no need for second- or third-tier members to relocate to Shenzhen.

Zhen’ai Network aimed to complete all acquisition procedures before National Day, but since this year’s holiday ran from September 29 to October 5, the final lump-sum payment was set for October 6—the very first day of Yu Xing’s three-month work period.

“Yu Zong—I should call you…” Wei Jialan said goodbye to Yu Xing before flying back to Shenzhen on the 28th, “Yu Zongjian. Let’s meet on the 6th in Shenzhen. There’s employee dormitory housing—you can rent your own during the holiday, or let the company arrange it—either way.”

Yu Xing shook hands with the vice president and smiled: “Sounds strange—I just graduated. Though it’s been short, I’ve gotten used to being called ‘Yu Zong.’”

Wei Jialan laughed: “You can rise to Yu Zong at Zhen’ai Network too.”

Yu Xing now fully understood her meaning—he smiled and nodded, concluding his final pre-employment discussion.

Song Yufeng overheard the conversation between his boss and Wei Jialan and remarked: “This Wei Zong seems genuinely sincere.”

“If she were truly sincere, she’d say everything upfront,” Yu Xing replied offhandedly. “Instead, she agreed to my terms, took over Guiai Network, and now tries to coax me into staying at Zhen’ai Network bit by bit.”

Song Yufeng, hearing this, felt his boss was right.

He immediately asked: “Yu Zong, I realize I have a problem—I tend to believe whatever people say. You’re going to deal with investors—how can I change this?”

Song Yufeng feared his boss wouldn’t teach him real insights, so he emphasized it was for work.

“Fengge, here’s how I see it: lowering our expectations of others helps manage our own thoughts,” Yu Xing said, glancing at Song Yufeng’s eager expression. “Take you and me—I offered you shares. Did you think they were free? Just because of your 120,000?”

Song Yufeng: “Uh…”

No need to be so blunt.

Yu Xing continued: “Take Zhen’ai Network—why did they finally buy Guiai Network? Did they feel sorry for me? Think I’m a college kid? Want to encourage my first startup?”

“Of course not. Zhen’ai Network’s acquisition decision was based purely on its own interests.”

“Similarly, why is Wei Jialan so friendly? Because she’s kind?”

“Maybe she is kind in personal life—but our interactions are strictly professional. She’s doing this to complete her job—whether it’s integrating a new business unit or handling a promising college student. Since she’s driving this, her future standing in the company may depend on it.”

“Lowering expectations of others—I think this isn’t hard.”

Yu Xing had strong psychological preparation for this, because…

He’d been taken advantage of too many times—he had no choice but to lower his expectations.

We start with the lowest possible expectation. If even that’s broken, then we deal with it.

“Yu Zong, Xingge, listening to you is worth ten years of reading,” Song Yufeng said half-seriously.

Yu Xing nodded: “Hmm. Lowering expectations—I think 10% of what you just said is sincere.”

Song Yufeng protested: “Xingge, that’s too little! I’m at least 70% sincere!”

“Ten percent is already good—anything beyond is a bonus,” Yu Xing laughed. “See? Practical, right?”

He walked toward his electric scooter, pointing to the back seat: “Let’s go—back home for dinner.”

As he sat on the back, Song Yufeng pondered: “Xingge, constantly lowering expectations doesn’t seem right—could it make someone… uh, how to put it…”

“Lower your expectations and treat others with sincerity—you might receive more unexpected joys than you imagine, and that’s how life becomes happy.” Yu Xing started his electric scooter. “Like this company—I thought selling it for a million was acceptable; now it’s selling for 2.6 million. Even though I worked hard with everyone, it’s still an unexpected bonus.”

Song Yufeng shook his head and voiced his feeling: “Being sincere with people is too hard.”

“I’m just chatting—take it with a grain of salt,” Yu Xing chuckled.

Song Yufeng pondered for a moment, then changed the subject: “Big Brother Xing, is it safe for you to go to Pengcheng alone? Maybe I should go with you.”

“It’s a legitimate company—what are they gonna do to me?” Yu Xing shook his head. “But if more things come up, I don’t mind. My expectations are low anyway.”

Song Yufeng slapped his thigh. Lower your expectations!

As for Yu Zong diving into the tiger’s den, someone like him—a non-typical college student—probably needs to worry more about his new employer over these three months.

With this thought, Song Yufeng’s lingering worries vanished completely, and he turned to ponder his own value positioning.

Even though the boss only wants me as a mascot and a backbone in critical moments, I still need to do more work daily—otherwise, they can just replace me anytime…

The electric scooter slowly passed two traffic lights.

While waiting for the green light, Yu Xing thought about calling home that night to inform them of his next steps.

The Pengcheng trip is just fulfilling the contract, but there’s still plenty to do in these three months: lay the groundwork for Baixiaosheng and Guoshanfeng, and remotely verify the number of screens for Mass Media in different cities.

What he regretted now was that all three online dating brands hadn’t gone public yet—otherwise, it would’ve been a joint drill between Baixiaosheng and Guoshanfeng.

“Beep! Beep!!”

Suddenly, a car horn blared from behind the scooter.

Yu Xing turned back—the scooter was on the non-motorized lane, but the car behind wanted to turn right from this lane, while the right-turn-and-straight lane on the left was blocked by straight-moving vehicles.

The car’s horn was urgent, clearly impatient.

Yu Xing silently nudged the scooter forward a bit to make space.

The car drove past slowly; the passenger leaned out and said: “Can’t you see? Don’t you see the car?”

Sitting in the back, Song Yufeng heard this, his eyes flashing with insight—this is how you grasp value positioning! You seize it from these tiny moments!

He shouted angrily at the car: “You’re the one with blind eyes! Can’t you even drive?! What kind of trash!”

You must actively protect your boss’s emotional value—even if he might not care!

Song Yufeng stood tall and proud, even sitting on the back of the scooter, his presence impossible to miss.

The black sedan stopped. The blond passenger got out and marched straight toward the scooter, followed by two more men emerging from the back seat.

Song Yufeng’s scalp prickled—he hadn’t realized protecting emotional value wouldn’t be as simple as he thought.

“Hey, hey, you! What did you say? Come here!” The blond pointed aggressively at Song Yufeng.

Song Yufeng’s bones wavered uncertainly between softness and hardness.

“The traffic police are coming,” Yu Xing calmly reminded him, then smiled. “He’s a college student—just graduated.”

The blond turned and saw a traffic officer approaching from the other side; he muttered curses and climbed back into the car.

At last, Song Yufeng found his backbone. He remembered one identity he could bluff with, and said calmly: “I’m a reporter.”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier? Now they’re already in the car!” Yu Xing laughed helplessly.

Song Yufeng was about to mutter when the black car suddenly accelerated—just as a Mercedes, turning left at the intersection, slammed into its rear.

The light turned green.

Yu Xing rode on with Song Yufeng, glancing back at the accident, smiling: “Perfect. Unexpected bonus.”

Song Yufeng hadn’t fully grasped value positioning—he felt gloomy yet thoughtful: “It really is an unexpected bonus… but lowering expectations is kind of painful.”

“Why painful? I was afraid the blond would pull a knife from his waist,” Yu Xing chuckled. “If he did, I’d just have to run faster than you.”

Song Yufeng suddenly understood—if he lowered his expectations of Yu Zong and saw him as heartless, then just now, Yu Zong hadn’t abandoned him—he’d even spoken up to help. That too was an unexpected bonus!

Hey, hey, hey… wait a minute!

In his thoughts, Song Yufeng suddenly sensed something off.

First, lowering expectations of Yu Zong—maybe his teachings were malicious!

Then, thinking about what benefit he’d gain from learning this—if he joined the company, wouldn’t he no longer need to hold high expectations of Yu Zong?

Lower expectations first… then the unexpected bonus might never come!

Facing the evening breeze, Song Yufeng seriously voiced his reflection: “Big Brother Xing, don’t lower your expectations! I think this is wrong! I can’t lower my expectations of you at all! I believe you’ll become the most influential figure in all of business!”

Yu Xing burst out laughing: “What kind of person am I? I ride an electric scooter.”

“Thirty years east of the river! Big Brother Xing, your company’s already sold—soon you’ll be a rising star!” Song Yufeng’s tone now carried genuine sincerity.

Yu Xing still smiled: “Don’t underestimate those rising stars.”

Then he added: “But I probably won’t become one myself—I’ll just stir up those rising stars.”

Song Yufeng’s mind unconsciously recalled Yu Zong’s earlier words—this was… lowering expectations again!

Dammit, I’ve been cursed!

…

The money from Zhen’ai.com wouldn’t arrive until after the holiday—this was somewhat disappointing.

Yu Xing didn’t plan to return home for the holiday, but he called each family member to update them on his plans.

He hadn’t expected that nearly everyone had noticed his remarks had been reported in the media.

“You’re doing well now—you can even talk to Ma Zhuan!” His father, Yu Guosheng, couldn’t help but be proud.

“Talking? That’s nothing—I’ll stab him next,” Yu Xing replied with a joke.

Yu Guosheng couldn’t help but praise: “That’s even more impressive!”

“Smoke less. If you need money, call me—don’t be polite,” Yu Xing reminded him again.

Yu Guosheng paused for three seconds: “Mm. You smoke less too. If you need money, call me—don’t be polite…”

Yu Xing ended the call with a smile.

When he called his uncle, something extra came up.

“Xingxing, Xiao Guang will get his driver’s license next month. Should he go to Pengcheng?” Uncle Chu Jinxiang didn’t forget his son’s arrangements.

“That fast?” Yu Xing thought, then had an idea. “Uncle, have Xiao Guang apply for a Japanese visa. The grape I mentioned before—have him go along on that trip.”

Chu Jinxiang was startled: “Him? He’s never been abroad, doesn’t speak Japanese, not even English!”

“I’ll first find someone domestically who can handle this—have Xiao Guang tag along. Not knowing? So what? Can you call it training if you don’t do anything?” Yu Xing’s tone was firm.

Chu Jinxiang found his nephew’s logic sound—this was settled.

He’d called nearly everyone at home. The past half-month hadn’t been calm—his aunt had argued twice with the others, but nothing had reached the elders; the situation remained under control.

Yu Xing bought a ticket for flight 4 to Pengcheng and called each market manager to inform them of the current situation and their compensation arrangements.

He could guarantee one thing: Zhen’ai.com had promised unchanged compensation.

As for the future, if Zhen’ai.com truly spends real money, then they’ll call the shots.

The company was sold, the contract signed. Zhong Zhiling and Lu Haiying had shed their burdens and used the holiday to visit their parents.

Yu Xing stayed busy: on the last day of September, he found a college student about to leave Gu’ai.com, promised him 5,000 yuan, and tasked him with counting the Mass Media screens in Shanghai during October.

“Yu Zong, why count these?” The student looked puzzled.

“To prepare for future ad placements. Count them precisely—I’ll negotiate better prices later. Not just you—two others will count too. Your numbers can’t differ too much, or I’ll deduct your pay,” Yu Xing explained.

The student silently accepted, canceled his National Day holiday plans, and resolved to complete the task seriously.

He calculated it again and added: “Yu Zong, are you advertising in other cities? I can finish Shanghai and keep counting.”

Yu Xing gave a disappointing reply: “Only Shanghai for now. I’ll call you if more work comes up.”

Mass Media screens were concentrated in commercial buildings and apartment complexes—relatively centralized and easy to count.

All arrangements made. Now, just waiting to begin his working life.

On the 3rd, Yu Xing arrived in Pengcheng and checked into the employee dormitory.

During the remaining two days of the National Day holiday, he casually toured Pengcheng, hired another college student to help count screens, then went to bed early on the 5th, ready to embrace his slacking-off time.

On October 6, Yu Xing arrived at Zhen’ai.com headquarters, full of energy, greeted warmly by senior staff led by Wei Jialan.

Wei Jialan announced Yu Xing’s appointment as Business Director and highly praised his abilities to the staff.

“Yu Director, your office isn’t ready yet—use this desk for now. Tomorrow, you’ll move into your private office,” Wei Jialan offered a small apology. “The money will hit your Xiangjiang company account this morning.”

“No problem—I’m fine with anything,” Yu Xing smiled throughout.

Wei Jialan nodded: “Good. I wish you a more valuable career at Zhen’ai.com. I’m off to meet clients—we’ll discuss how to handle dating contracts tomorrow.”

Yu Xing politely declined: “Wei Zong, I’d rather not discuss it—my role here…”

Wei Jialan was stunned—this guy was already acting this way on his first day.

She smiled faintly: “Yu Director, get familiar with the company environment.”

Wei Jialan shook hands and left, but before departing, she gave a small instruction to another director, Zou Jiafen.

Yu Xing sat at his desk, keyboard and screen before him, feeling momentarily dazed.

His working life had begun so abruptly.

He stared blankly for a moment, then smiled at a curious colleague beside him, pulled out his phone, and sent a text to Liu Wan in Xiangjiang: I’m at Zhen’ai.com now. Feels weird.

Liu Wan replied: Experience our worker’s life, Boss Yu. I’m in a meeting.

Yu Xing wisely didn’t disturb further.

He thought and thought, then took a pen and scribbled on paper, pondering Baixiaosheng’s user mechanics.

At 10 a.m., Zhen’ai.com’s payment officially arrived in Gu’ai.com’s Xiangjiang account—signifying the acquisition was fully complete.

Yu Xing had become a true employee.

An hour later, Business Director Zou Jiafen arrived with a folder to notify the new director.

“Yu Zong, come to a meeting,” Zou Jiafen placed the folder on his desk.

Yu Xing smiled at her, glanced at her name tag, and politely refused: “Director Zou, I agreed with Li Zong—I won’t participate in work. You go ahead without me.”

Zou Jiafen widened her eyes, glanced at her watch, and said with a slightly stiff tone: “Director Yu, it’s just a short meeting, fifteen minutes.”

Yu Xing maintained his politeness and this time stated his full name: “No, I’ve already made arrangements with Director Li Song—I won’t be participating in any work.”

Zou Jiafen couldn’t help saying: “Director Yu, you must respect your job, your colleagues—at the very least, the company pays you a salary; you should respect your salary.”

“I’m not disrespecting my colleagues,” Yu Xing spread his hands. “I’m just sitting quietly here, not disturbing anyone. Besides, what do you think Zhen’ai Network pays me for?”

Zou Jiafen furrowed her brow deeply: “What for?”

Yu Xing raised his voice slightly, pointing out the essence of the matter: “The company pays me to buy my time—to let me do nothing!”

He emphasized: “Do nothing, do nothing, got it?”

Worried she still didn’t understand, Yu Xing looked again at his employee badge and asked: “Director Zou Jiafen, do you understand?”

Not working for competitors, not building a team to compete—that was Yu Xing’s understanding of Zhen’ai Network’s three-month salary.

Zou Jiafen felt deeply stuck and fell silent for a moment. She glared at the young man before her, then turned away, full of resentment.

Yu Xing sighed, then smiled at the stunned colleagues beside him.

His working life had begun—and as unexpectedly, it had ended.