Chapter 78: 076 A Cliff Stands a Thousand Feet High

One person walked out, three followed him out.

One person walked ahead, three trailed behind.

One rode an electric scooter, three… finally stopped.

“Still chasing?” Qin Shaohong asked his colleague bitterly.

Sun Jingshi replied irritably: “Go chase and get scolded again?”

Zou Jiafen stared at the direction Yu Xing had vanished, her face still grim.

Qin Shaohong and Sun Jingshi exchanged a glance, both feeling defeated and humiliated.

They had chased out unconsciously; not chasing meant employees would whisper behind their backs, but chasing meant getting scolded again…

Now, standing still for a while, even if they wanted to chase, it was too late.

“Damn it, damn it!” Qin Shaohong stared blankly for a moment, regretful: “I should’ve punched him right then!”

Sun Jingshi sighed: “You’re so weak—getting scolded isn’t enough? You need a beating to feel better?”

Qin Shaohong beat his chest in frustration, deeply defeated.

“This Yu Xing probably won’t stay at the company,” Sun Jingshi shook his head. “He’s the type… the type…”

Zou Jiafen coldly added: “Has no reservations.”

Sun Jingshi suddenly realized: “Yes, yes! Damn it—he really has no reservations!”

But as soon as he said it, the three stared at each other. The young man had money, had no intention of staying, and already had job offers from e-commerce giants—what exactly did he need to care about?

He could care—but he chose not to. Then he truly didn’t need to care.

“He’ll suffer for it eventually!”

Zou Jiafen could only spit out this resentful remark.

As for exactly when or how soon, the three directors had no energy left to discuss.

…

“What are you doing now?”

“Counting screens. Thirty-five. Wait, no—thirty-something! Whatever, let’s say thirty-five!”

At six p.m., Yu Xing received a call from Liu Wan from the 15th floor of Haian Building. He had immediately shared the good news of his first day at work with his best friend, and from the tone of her voice, Liu Wan was also excited.

She threw out two questions: “You really tore it up? You really counted?”

“How could I fake counting? Xiangjiang isn’t far—just drive over to Haian Building and see if I’m counting,” Yu Xing said, silently counting in his head. “Today I had a fight with my colleagues—they insisted I work.”

Liu Wan found it hilarious: “Your description is so niche…”

“It was agreed upon. On the first day they’re already pointing fingers—I’m too lazy to explain more. Come over? I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“Another time. I’ll hitch a ride with a colleague—Pengcheng Bay Bridge is much more convenient now,” Liu Wan said casually. “I’m still more interested in your first-day showdown.”

“Wait a sec—I’ll put on headphones. I’m heading to the next floor,” Yu Xing pulled out his headphones and continued his verification journey downward.

Though his workday had taken an unexpected turn, his mood remained unaffected—he still had to follow his own plan.

Wearing headphones, he chatted with Liu Wan, fifty kilometers away, about today’s events, while continuing to verify Fen Zhong Media’s strength using the most basic method.

Liu Wan listened intently, finally sighing: “A cliff stands a thousand feet high—without desire, one is strong. Hey, you’re… I even want to throw a tantrum like you.”

Yu Xing thought for a moment and said plainly: “It’s not that I have no desire at all. If they’d followed the contract exactly, I’d have felt a bit guilty taking action—but now, it’s mutual completion.”

Liu Wan asked: “You’d really feel guilty?”

“Yes,” Yu Xing answered without hesitation, then added just as bluntly: “But that’s personal. Guilt is guilt—exposing industry secrets is public duty. You do what must be done. How can personal feelings override public responsibility?”

Liu Wan marveled: “Alright, with your attitude, my confidence in Baixiaosheng grows. Hey, your encounter with them was a mistake from the start.”

Yu Xing laughed: “Carefully recall—wasn’t this encounter your own planned scheme? What’s so surprising? Aren’t you the instigator?”

“Setting a goal is easy. Achieving it is hard,” Liu Wan declined credit. “Now that you’re rich, your confidence is different.”

“If money can’t boost confidence, why did I bother working so hard for it? Right?” Yu Xing said, then gave the final count: “Haian Building has seventy-nine Fen Zhong LCD screens.”

Liu Wan’s attention returned to what Yu Xing was doing: “Seventy-nine… you really plan to count every single one of Fen Zhong’s hundred thousand screens? I’m impressed—what wouldn’t you succeed at? If you’d stuck with medicine, you might’ve become a top pathologist.”

Yu Xing smiled: “I didn’t count them myself—I hired people. Like you said, this money really boosts my confidence. Without it, I couldn’t afford a budget of over a hundred thousand to verify other companies’ data.”

Three months ago, even registering a company required scraping together funds. Now, a budget of around 150,000 was no longer a burden.

Liu Wan paused, then said thoughtfully: “Boss Yu, since you’ve started, let me give you a small suggestion.”

Yu Xing immediately replied: “Go ahead, partner—tell me.”

“…,” Liu Wan still voiced her suggestion. “If you’re counting to verify the most fundamental data supporting this company, don’t just tally numbers. Pay attention to where the screens are placed.”

“For example, commercial value differs greatly between office buildings and residential areas. A company might falsify its base figures, but that doesn’t mean the finer details aren’t inflated—that’s what you need to focus on.”

“For instance, the distribution of LCD screens across first-, second-, and third-tier cities is clearly different—but you can compare these totals later.”

“Also, I suspect that even if the base data has issues, whether it can effectively suppress the stock price remains questionable.”

Liu Wan spoke fluently, offering her insights.

“Sis Ying, you can’t just let me do this alone—you need to join. This is where your skills truly shine!” Yu Xing was pleased she pointed out the flaw. “Liu Wan, this is the value of asking questions!”

He continued urging: “Do you have this kind of value at your current company? They won’t raise your pay—they’re cutting it. They won’t promote you—they’re even threatening to lay you off!”

Liu Wan was pleased at first, but hearing the last part, she sighed helplessly: “I never told you that. Do you have to rub salt in other people’s wounds?”

“I don’t need you to tell me—I can guess easily. Besides, your merger deal got shut down too,” Yu Xing pressed earnestly. “Why confine yourself to a corporate job? You have another option. Look at me—Baixiaosheng is about to take off.”

Liu Wan sighed: “Fine, if nothing else, I’ll join Baixiaosheng.”

Yu Xing flatly refused: “Oh, Baixiaosheng won’t work.”

He continued: “The only role I have for you is a research firm offer—that’s where you’ll truly shine.”

“The more you talk, the lower my mood drops,” Liu Wan said helplessly. “Are you really fixated on my hard-earned savings?”

Hearing the sadness in her tone, Yu Xing lowered and softened his voice: “Sis Ying, as we agreed—if the base data reveals problems, Fen Zhong likely has other issues. Logically, if they falsify base data, they’ll falsify everything else too.”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything. I just think—if you’re unhappy, you could try a different path. Do something that makes you happy.”

Liu Wan chuckled: “You think shorting others makes you happy?”

“If shorting others doesn’t make you happy, what does?” Yu Xing exclaimed. “Besides, we’re doing righteous shorting. If they didn’t falsify data, there’d be no flaw. We expose problems for the industry and investors—and make money doing it. Isn’t that worth being happy about?”

Liu Wan said quietly: “I doubt how long your righteousness will last.”

“Research firms only issue reports. If you feel a shorting move doesn’t align with your values, you can simply withhold your investment,” Yu Xing said seriously. “We can investigate a company every six months or a year. One action can yield massive returns—you’ll gain more choices in life.”

Liu Wan fell silent for a moment: “Keep counting your screens.”

Yu Xing ended the call with Liu Wan, but clearly felt the consultant fifty kilometers away had been moved.

This might mean their agreement could be accelerated.

For example, counting all the screens in Pengcheng.

…

Day two of the work life.

Yu Xing woke even earlier than yesterday, even ran a short distance, and felt more energetic than ever.

So, working has its perks—his schedule is more regular than before.

At 8:30 a.m., Yu Xing walked confidently into the company. The moment he appeared, the surroundings fell silent.

“Morning, everyone,” Yu Xing noticed the complex glances, smiled warmly, and greeted them.

No response.

Yesterday’s showdown had been entertaining, but entertainment aside, his unusual behavior naturally created distance.

Yu Xing felt no emotional shift. He went to his desk and began pondering Liu Wan’s advice from yesterday—data collection needed to be more precise and targeted.

Since they were shorting, they needed to deliver a shocking piece of negative news.

Otherwise, wouldn’t the market gradually absorb it?

Yu Xing speculated and guessed—he should probably take a course or consult professionals.

No, professionals wouldn’t have time.

Maybe he should sneak into finance classes at Pengcheng University on weekends—wait, do they even have classes on weekends?

They definitely do on weekdays—but he couldn’t go—he still had to work.

Yu Xing now had the annoyance of sticking to his post.

“Bro, you’re here again?” His colleague Tong Xingjian arrived, surprised to see the new director already seated.

Yu Xing replied curiously: “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Tong Xingjian had nothing to say—only thought this guy had incredible inner strength.

They now fully understood his background: originally a medical graduate student, suddenly decided to start a business in niche dating content—and somehow, he actually succeeded.

And his words from yesterday had been verified. Colleagues had enthusiastically researched him online and through connections—but no deep research was needed—he was already covered in media reports.

About his competence…

From current information, everything checked out. Even rumors about Liu Qiangdong’s private phone calls were likely true.

Thus, they fully understood the young director’s confidence—he’d take his three-month salary and leave, with prior agreement, so he didn’t care what anyone thought.

Everyone, aside from envy, wisely kept quiet. Director Yu didn’t need to survive at Zhen’ai.com—they did.

So, though they didn’t dislike him—even secretly supported his outburst—they couldn’t communicate or show any attitude.

At 9:20 a.m., Vice President Wei Jialan hurriedly called Yu into her office in front of everyone, leaving them all disappointed—why not handle it face-to-face?

“Director Yu, aren’t you being too extreme?” Wei Jialan had received the call last night but waited until today to act.

“I clock in and out per contract. I don’t work per agreement,” Yu Xing sat down. “So what exactly would be ‘not extreme’?”

Wei Jialan frowned: “Then why are you here?”

Yu Xing laughed bitterly: “I notice all you bosses have short memories. Didn’t you demand I come? You and yesterday’s three directors all speak the same tune. I didn’t even want to come to Pengcheng—you insisted I did.”

“And now you come here to cause trouble?” Wei Jialan said discontentedly.

“Here we go again,” Yu Xing sighed. “How many times do I have to tell people this?”

Wei Jialan raised an eyebrow: “Director Yu, are you saying you can’t do any work at all?” Yu Xing replied firmly: “Yes, I’m allergic to work.”

Wei Jialan sighed, paused to think, then said: “Director Yu, until yesterday, I thought our relationship had been pleasant. Zhen’ai Network recognized the value of your startup, you chose us as the final buyer, and agreed to entrust your team to us to develop further. Even if you don’t want to do any work, couldn’t you have shown a little human decency at yesterday’s event, just a little face-saving for everyone?”

“Contract. Agreement,” Yu Xing said calmly, holding up one finger. “We can talk as long as it doesn’t infringe on my personal interests. But demanding I show goodwill while you break the agreement? I won’t accept that.”

Wei Jialan fell into a long silence.

She had never imagined Yu Xing’s initial terms left zero room for compromise.

But then again, Zhen’ai Network didn’t lose anything by absorbing Gu’ai Network’s business. Having Yu Xing on board was indeed valuable—he was truly talented—but now it seemed impossible to force him.

Wei Jialan spoke again, shaking her head: “Director Yu, you’re strange.”

“I think it’s strange too,” Yu Xing said, spreading his hands. “Wasn’t it agreed? Why does everyone treat agreements like they mean nothing?” “Wei Zong, explain it to me.”

Wei Jialan sighed: “That’s just how the workplace is, Director Yu. Sometimes being too rigid isn’t a good thing.”

Yu Xing replied bluntly: “So I came here to start a business—you’re the ones who dragged me into the workplace.”

Wei Jialan conceded: “Fine, fine, it’s all our fault. We shouldn’t have expected someone like you to work for Zhen’ai Network. We shouldn’t have bought your business.”

“Zhen’ai Network could’ve chosen not to buy,” Yu Xing reminded her. “There were Baihe Network and Century Love too. Do I need to spell this out? This was a business transaction. Do I owe you gratitude?”

He said bluntly: “Who’s asleep—you or me?”

Too blunt.

Wei Jialan’s anger flared instantly, then faded after a few seconds. She spoke slowly: “Director Yu, as a member of Zhen’ai Network, I naturally hope more talent joins our company. But if you don’t want to, I won’t force you. I just have some heartfelt words.”

Yu Xing extended his hand, as if to say: Show me how heartfelt.

“In this society, in this business environment, more friends mean more paths,” Wei Jialan said sincerely. “Even if these three months from startup to workplace were just a formality, couldn’t you pick up some experience? Many things are connected. I’ll give you a suggestion: you’re young, you switched from medicine to business. Do some work, build some relationships. Three months from now, if you want to leave, you’ll be better off for it.”

Yu Xing nodded: “Fine. I don’t accept your suggestion.”

Before she could react, he offered his own: “Save this advice for the next young person. That’s my advice to you.”

Wei Jialan realized there was nothing left to say.

She raised her hand helplessly, signaling he could return to work… back to slacking off.

Yu Xing stood up and asked: “Wei Zong, do I still have my office and company car?”

Wei Jialan stared at the young man in disbelief, half-amused: “What do you think?”

Yu Xing sighed: “That was part of our agreement.”

“Final interpretation rights belong to me—is that acceptable?” Wei Jialan finally allowed herself to express emotion. “If you want an explanation, I’ll give you one: the company is currently short on vehicles. We expect to allocate you a Mercedes E-Class in three months.”

She looked at Yu Xing and smiled: “As for the office—I don’t want to give you one. Is that okay?”

Yu Xing shrugged: “I just thought sitting out here might disturb my colleagues.”

Wei Jialan waved him off, no longer interested in further discussion.

Yu Xing left the office without care, sat back at his desk, and focused on his own matters.

Wei Jialan felt irritated. She hadn’t expected Yu Xing to be so resolute. She’d always assumed once someone was in, there’d be room to persuade them.

She thought and reconsidered, still feeling the matter needed reporting—but she needed the right moment. After all, she’d given Li Zong a biased opinion when he first inquired.

Wei Jialan found her chance at the evening dinner. When Li Song was in a good mood, she briefly mentioned the issue—talking about the immaturity of recent graduates, and his conflicts with supervisors and colleagues.

“Oh, that Yu Xing,” Li Song said, frowning. “Forget it. Let him be. The real world isn’t as easy as he thinks.”

Wei Jialan finally relaxed.

Li Song added: “Focus on launching the Dating Contract business. That’s more important than one person’s presence or absence. That’s truly beneficial to the company.”

Wei Jialan immediately nodded, expressing confidence.

Li Song said no more.

Wei Jialan’s anxiety about Yu Xing vanished completely. Aside from keeping an eye on his movements, her full attention turned to launching the new business. And Yu Xing, for his part, caused no further trouble—only remained quiet.

…

Working a job was boring.

Counting screens was boring too.

Throughout the first half of October, Yu Xing’s routine was simply the accumulation of two kinds of boredom; the only thing that amused him was Liu Wan’s growing concern over the number of LCD screens.

Following Yu Xing’s habit of counting screens after work, Liu Wan almost daily called between six and seven p.m.—sometimes long, sometimes short—asking about the real-time LCD count and the operations of short-selling firms.

Because of these frequent calls, Yu Xing even developed a fleeting illusion that she liked him.

“What are you doing?”

“Counting screens.”

“What are you doing?”

“Counting screens.”

“What are you doing?”

“Playing basketball.”

On October 15, Liu Wan heard a different answer in their routine call.

She asked in surprise: “Why aren’t you counting screens today?”

“It’s too boring. I’m not a robot,” Yu Xing laughed. “I’m relaxing my nerves. Also, I signed up for the basketball team-building next weekend.”

Liu Wan froze, then burst into laughter—laughing for half a minute: “Hey, what’s with you? You won’t work, but you’re eager to join team-building? How’d they even sign you up?”

“I don’t clash with my colleagues—they’re all eager to watch the show,” Yu Xing grumbled. “I sit here all day. I’ve realized: slacking off too much is just as empty.”

Liu Wan found it amusing: “Perfect. They want you to work.”

“No, I found a new task yesterday—I’m now supervising Zhong Zhiling’s team,” Yu Xing said, even less inclined to work. “Come to Pengcheng next weekend. Cheer me on. I’ve spent over a week researching—I think there are real problems.”

Liu Wan grew serious: “Go on.”

Yu Xing considered his words: “I don’t know if it’s an isolated case. Pengcheng’s total numbers aren’t out yet, but the office buildings and residential complexes I’ve visited—I feel Zhongfen’s screen ratio in office buildings isn’t nearly as high as they claim.”

According to Zhongfen’s claims, most of their screens are in bustling commercial buildings and office towers.

But as Yu Xing visited more sites, his real experience suggested otherwise: residential screens were far more numerous.

“Residential screens have much lower commercial value. Substituting inferior for superior is common,” Liu Wan said, her mood heavy yet strangely excited. “Then let’s meet next weekend.”

“OK. I’ll keep visiting these places these few days,” Yu Xing said, ending the call. He returned to practicing basketball, planning to show off at the team-building.

Too bad… when the weekend basketball team-building arrived, no one passed the ball to Yu Xing.

“Yu Xing, go! Yu Xing, go!” Liu Wan watched from the sidelines as Yu Xing sprinted back and forth. The scene was pitiful—players refused to pass him the ball, and the coach didn’t substitute him out.

Yu Xing shrugged helplessly at Liu Wan, who looked more radiant than ever after their long separation.

“Defend him! Leave him!” Liu Wan cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted. “Just guard the ball-handler!”

Yu Xing heard her. Suddenly he understood: if no one passed him the ball, why care about the team’s fate or the score?

He abandoned his own defender and moved to double-team the opponent’s ball-handler.

This was a basketball team-building—or rather, a team-building where you played with your boss.

Zhen’ai Network’s boss, Li Song, was the ball-handler. He broke through easily and always scored effortlessly on layups—this was, of course, an unspoken rule of workplace dynamics.

Yu Xing suddenly closed in. Li Song rushed his shot.

Bam!

Yu Xing slapped the ball down.

The opponent grabbed it and passed it back to Boss Li.

Li Song faked twice, trying another layup.

Yu Xing gave him space, then, relying on his young, strong body, leapt instantly to block.

Bam!

Double kill!

Li Song’s face darkened. He slowly retreated.

Third possession: Li Song held the ball again.

Yu Xing ignored the shouts from the sidelines: “Go guard the corner!” He stood directly in front of Li Song, applying pressure.

Bam!

Triple kill!

Yu Xing showed no mercy. If he couldn’t get the ball, he focused entirely on defense—quadrakill, pentakill!

He blocked Li Song five times in a row.

The crowd’s cheers faded. Everyone felt both awkward and exhilarated.

Li Song got angry. He was determined to score on Yu Xing.

Yu Xing easily stole the ball from Li Song’s aging dribble, then sprinted the length of the court for a layup. The entire court fell silent.

Unstoppable!

He wiped his sweat. Hearing no whistle from the coach, he stopped playing.

“Hey, Li Zong, you guys keep playing,” Yu Xing walked straight off the court. “See you tomorrow.”

Liu Wan had only heard descriptions over the phone. Seeing this scene in person, she was nearly laughing herself to death.

Li Song’s face was grim: “Hey, Yu Xing, you play pretty well.”

Yu Xing waved his hand: “You’re not bad either.”

The basketball game wasn’t over, but Li Song’s enthusiasm was completely doused. Watching Yu Xing walk away, he thought only one thing: get this guy out of the company.

Liu Wan stepped out of the gym, smiling: “You’re really mean.”

Yu Xing wiped his sweat again: “It’s a game. If no one passes you the ball, you just defend. Hey, you were the one yelling from the sidelines.”

Liu Wan blinked, smiling sweetly: “I’m proud of you, Director Yu.”

(End of chapter)