Chapter 79: 077 Unusual

For the company team-building, I showed up; when the boss played basketball, I blocked his shots.

I don’t need to worry about work tasks; come pay day, I smile wide.

Liu Wan had been smiling since leaving the court, unable to stop, and when she saw her familiar electric scooter, she laughed even harder.

“Hey, hey, Sister Ying, hey, Liu Wan,” Yu Xing tried to snap her out of it, “Hey! Yingzi! Wanwan!”

“Rude—call me Sister,” Liu Wan laughed away all the negative emotions that had clung to her heart since last month’s financial storm, “How did Zhen’ai.com even buy you? You’re truly taking advantage of people!”

“How am I taking advantage? I ran back and forth, and no one passed me the ball once,” Yu Xing protested, “Just toss me a couple shots—we’re just playing, right? I’m a young guy, don’t I have the right to get annoyed?”

Liu Wan smiled sweetly: “I think this company still has some standards—you weren’t beaten up, so the culture must be decent.”

“We still have to accompany the boss playing basketball on weekends, and if you don’t get to play, you have to clap from below. Halfway through clapping, when colleagues cheer, you have to join in and flatter them,” Yu Xing scoffed, “They won’t beat me up—when I got off the court, I saw some of them staring at me with excitement, wishing they were the ones blocking the boss, hoping I’d keep smashing him.”

Liu Wan laughed again—this guy was hilarious.

“Wait, why are you laughing so much? Are you still that Bain elite?” Yu Xing was puzzled, “Enough already, stop it.”

He slammed the brake—the electric scooter stopped abruptly.

Liu Wan, still laughing, was thrown forward and then recoiled like she’d been shocked off his strong back.

Finally, she stopped laughing and gritted her teeth: “You’re so annoying!”

Yu Xing pointed awkwardly at the ground: “There’s a pothole, there’s a pothole—I was going slow, but this scooter’s brakes are soft, I braked too hard.”

Liu Wan rolled her eyes and carefully gripped the scooter’s rear handle.

“Cough, where were we? Oh right—how to please your boss? I don’t know,” Yu Xing said seriously, “But how to annoy them? That’s ridiculously easy.”

Liu Wan snorted: “This year everyone’s trying not to get fired—you’re actively looking for ways to get fired, right?”

“Everything I’ve done is within the boundaries of my agreement with them. If anything makes them unhappy,” Yu Xing smiled, “Then let them be unhappy.”

Liu Wan genuinely envied him: “You’re way more carefree than I am.”

“I have my own things to do,” Yu Xing said. “Whether in Shanghai or Shenzhen, I plan to count the screens myself—only then can I know the real situation. Three months is enough for thinking and resting. Yingzi, what’s for dinner?”

Liu Wan slapped his shoulder playfully: “Hey, you’re really seizing every opportunity.”

“Isn’t it all the same? Yingzi, Sister Ying—what’s for dinner, what’s for dinner?” Yu Xing slowed down. “There’s a decent Cantonese place nearby, but it’s small—want to eat there? Or shall we go for lobster? I’ve got money now.”

“Let’s stay nearby,” Liu Wan turned serious. “Eating is secondary—I’m here today to see you wreck the company, no, I’m here to check your visitation data.”

Yu Xing rode the electric scooter straight to the Cantonese restaurant.

His visitation range had expanded lately, and he’d eaten at countless small and large eateries—this one nearby had authentic Cantonese flavor.

He locked the scooter, and the two entered the restaurant.

“I’ll order,” Liu Wan said, familiar with Cantonese cuisine and not bothering with politeness.

Yu Xing grunted, pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from his pocket, covered in numbers.

After ordering, Liu Wan glanced at the paper and couldn’t help laughing: “Hey, Boss Yu, you’re trying to short a company—can’t you at least be a little more polished?”

“Counting screens takes time, but the key numbers are just these,” Yu Xing said seriously. “If it weren’t for the ritual, I could just recite them to you—I have a great memory!”

Liu Wan shook her head, staring at the detailed data on the paper, lost in thought.

Just like her earlier suggestion for improvement, the crumpled paper recorded the distribution of LCD screens across different demographic segments.

As of yesterday, Yu Xing had counted 1,732 screens.

Of these, 689 were in commercial buildings in bustling areas, and 1,043 were in residential buildings.

But according to Focus Media’s own claims, most of their screens are located in convenient, prosperous commercial buildings.

They never disclosed the exact proportion, but by common understanding, it should be at least 60–70%.

Liu Wan thought for a moment, then pointed out a possible issue: “This ratio doesn’t match Focus Media’s public figures, but it might just be sampling bias—we need more data.”

Yu Xing agreed: “Yes, I’ve been counting screens from near to far, only verifying regional distribution. This ratio can only be truly compared after counting every screen in all of Shenzhen.”

Different areas of a city develop differently—without a full survey, the data lacks meaningful reference. Perhaps the more prosperous districts have a higher screen density.

He continued: “But based on my recent fieldwork, I strongly suspect the commercial-to-residential ratio is off. Another potentially more telling figure: these 1,732 screens cover roughly 40% of Shenzhen’s total area.”

“Meaning, at this ratio, the total number of Focus Media screens in Shenzhen is probably… 4,000 to 6,000.”

Yu Xing gave a wide estimated range.

“Six thousand,” Liu Wan caught the point. “Focus Media claims 30% of their screens are in first-tier cities—that should mean at least 10,000 screens.”

Yu Xing smiled: “You’ve been researching Focus Media too, haven’t you?”

Liu Wan didn’t respond, her expression serious, her mind swirling with thoughts around the new data.

After a moment, she speculated: “Focus Media’s actual number of screens in Shenzhen should be findable.”

Yu Xing praised: “Exactly. I called as a client and asked—they said about 9,200 screens. And if I advertise, they’ll give me detailed screen locations.”

He added: “Do you think what they gave me is real?”

“Will any client be as naive as you, verifying every single screen?” Liu Wan shook her head slightly—no brand would ever bother verifying Focus Media’s actual screen count or placement.

Yu Xing said seriously: “Though I’m eager to announce my findings now… to keep this objective, I estimate I’ll finish touring all of Shenzhen by mid-next month.”

Liu Wan reviewed the data and notes one last time, handed the paper back, and smiled: “I still have to say—you’re really something. You actually walked every street. Hey, I’m curious—did anyone ever stop you?”

“I thought I’d definitely face resistance before I started, but once I began, it wasn’t so bad,” Yu Xing recalled. “Most places didn’t stop me. Some guards wouldn’t let me in—I just handed them a pack of cigarettes, and they let me through.”

Liu Wan rubbed her forehead: “You’re so real.”

“What else am I supposed to do? If they won’t let me in, I just won’t go in? I’m trying to give our investigation target the benefit of the doubt,” Yu Xing said earnestly. “But now, it seems I’m not far from becoming a Bain elite.”

Hearing this, Liu Wan felt a flicker of inner conflict.

Moments later, the restaurant owner and his wife’s Cantonese chatter interrupted her thoughts.

—“Those two are so well matched.”

—They’re so well matched.

Liu Wan’s expression grew subtle. She glanced at the gossipy restaurant wife by the kitchen door, hesitated—was it okay to chat like this in front of customers? She spoke Cantonese too!

She glanced again at Yu Xing, unchanged—he was writing data on the paper, clearly not understanding.

Yu Xing added Shanghai’s data to the paper and handed it back, asking casually: “What are they talking about?”

—What are they talking about?

Liu Wan took the paper and switched languages naturally: “They…”

But after two words, she stared, dumbfounded, at the man before her.

She froze for a long moment: “You… you speak Cantonese?”

“Just passably,” Yu Xing grinned. “Is it strange that I speak Cantonese?”

Liu Wan held the crumpled paper, her whole demeanor wrinkling with disbelief—this, you, you…

Yu Xing saw her expression and burst into laughter.

Then he shouted loudly: “Boss, stop meddling—I’m starving!”

The restaurant wife, hearing this, immediately apologized and stopped her gossip.

Liu Wan watched his fluent Cantonese, took a breath: “You’re truly a bad person!”

“Hey, Sister Ying, I’m so innocent—I didn’t make her talk,” Yu Xing said helplessly. “Should I drop my pen and fly over to cover her mouth?”

Liu Wan: “….”

She had no reply, only examined the newly added data with strange emotions.

Shanghai’s data was larger—the part-timers hired there didn’t have jobs like Yu Xing; they counted screens all day. So far, they’d counted 2,681 screens: 938 commercial LCDs, 1,743 residential.

The commercial building screen ratio here was even lower than Shenzhen’s—only 35%.

“Why didn’t you write this earlier?” Liu Wan asked, astonished.

“Didn’t have time. It’s all in my head—writing it now is the same,” Yu Xing smiled. “Shanghai’s data still doesn’t prove anything, but under independent research, our trends are converging—both differ sharply from Focus Media’s claimed ratios. I believe…”

His expression turned serious: “It’s time to set up a holding company for the Hong Kong research firm. Or, give me advice—if you back out, how should I start preparing?”

Liu Wan pursed her lips, glared at the man before her.

Yu Xing continued solemnly: “I remember last week you said on the phone you had a colleague who’s also very capable. If you really won’t help, just give me her number—I’ll talk to her, see if she wants this opportunity.”

Liu Wan said flatly: “She’s not as pretty as me.”

Yu Xing immediately said: “Just joking!”

Liu Wan smiled faintly: “I was joking too—she’s very pretty.”

Yu Xing paused: “By the way, do you think just the two of us running a research firm is enough?”

At that moment, the restaurant wife brought out the food: “Hey, kid, come eat!”

“Last time you weren’t this nosy,” Yu Xing teased.

“I’m bored—wasn’t even dinner time,” the wife glanced at the radiant Liu Wan and muttered, “I’m just telling the truth.”

Yu Xing warned seriously: “You can’t just say anything, even if it’s true.”

The wife walked off, disgruntled.

Liu Wan was both annoyed and amused: “You two are in cahoots!”

Yu Xing raised his right hand: “I swear on my life!”

“A man trying to short a company talks about conscience,” Liu Wan pressed her hand on the paper. “I can feel pure malice just from touching it.”

“I said it—we’re doing righteous shorting, another form of corporate oversight,” Yu Xing felt no guilt. “Whether it’s evil or not doesn’t matter—only justice does.”

Liu Wan suddenly felt confused—weren’t justice and malice contradictory?

Yu Xing returned to his earlier point: “Register a company in the Cayman Islands, then set up a research firm in Hong Kong. Sister Ying, I think we should put this on the agenda—what do you think?”

Liu Wan stared at the data from the two cities, a question both real and surreal rising in her mind: Should she really change her career path?

She fell silent.

“Eat, eat,” Yu Xing urged. “Don’t force yourself—if you really don’t want to, fine. Honestly, I don’t expect much from others keeping promises.”

Hearing this provocation, Liu Wan’s anger flared: “Yu, you’re a total…”

“Shh, don’t curse.” Yu Xing took a bite of salt-baked chicken. “I’m sincere. If you can’t do it, that’s fine—nothing should be forced. That bet I made with you was just a joke. I think happiness matters more.”

Liu Wanying stared at the man in front of her: “Really?”

“Of course not.” Yu Xing grinned. “But I suddenly couldn’t bear to see you so torn. Do whatever you want.”

Liu Wanying wanted to be angry, but couldn’t; she wanted to be happy, but lacked the joy. This wasn’t ordinary. Since graduating from HKU, she had worked hard—her path had never been smooth.

But even setting aside the agreement, the data currently presented nearly exposed a problem inherent in a listed company.

Is one city’s data trend insufficient? What about two cities?

Liu Wanying thought of this, then asked seriously: “Your data isn’t falsified, is it?”

“I counted every single number myself.” Yu Xing had just said this when he suddenly realized: “You mean Shanghai’s data? You mean the data from these two cities? You think I manipulated the numbers to lure you in?”

He gave a faint, cold smile: “Liu Wanying, you’re underestimating me.”

“Yes, I shouldn’t have underestimated you. Three months ago at my brother’s house, I shouldn’t have placed that romantic contract order.” Liu Wanying’s voice grew colder. “You’re so capable, so confident—why should I bother?”

Yu Xing slapped his thigh. “Alright, you’re the boss. I’ll give you a formal reply: no falsification. If you want absolute rigor, I can confirm my data is solid. Shanghai might have minor errors, but they shouldn’t stem from subjectivity.”

Liu Wanying nodded slightly, choosing to believe his words.

“You’re so conflicted. Let me offer you two options—ones I think are good.” Yu Xing folded his arms. “One: we become small short-sellers, open once and eat for three years. Two: you stay your Bain elite, but invest more money into Baixiaosheng—I’ll give you a preferential share algorithm.”

Liu Wanying sighed. “Money, money, money—has your Baixiaosheng even been established?”

“Formally launched the day before yesterday!” Yu Xing said proudly. “Our website should be ready next month!”

Liu Wanying pursed her lips, still hesitant: “Shorting isn’t easy.”

“True. Starting a business isn’t easy. Staring at screens isn’t easy. The workplace isn’t easy.” Yu Xing spoke earnestly. “I don’t think it’s easy—but I think there’s an opportunity now. Liu Wanying, what kind of opportunity is this for you?”

His eyes burned with ambition: “It’s an opportunity to make your life and career shine brighter!”

Liu Wanying was nearly shaken by his unwavering ambition. She asked instinctively: “Just because of you?”

Yu Xing denied it: “No.”

Then gave his answer: “Because of us.”

Liu Wanying looked into Yu Xing’s unyielding gaze, frowned slightly, then softly said: “Government registration fees, agent fees, maintenance fees—registration in the Cayman Islands will cost about $25,000.”

Yu Xing understood: “Alright, register first. We can wait a bit longer for more comprehensive data.”

Liu Wanying nodded slowly.

Yu Xing grinned without hesitation: “But once the company’s registered, I feel you’re one step closer to joining the gang, Sister Ying.”

Liu Wanying said flatly: “You don’t have to say it out loud.”

Yu Xing nodded vigorously: “Right, right, right—eat, eat.”

Liu Wanying had made a tentative decision inside—perhaps she really could quit.

Even if it wasn’t a brilliant career, becoming a small short-seller might make life genuinely more interesting.

She held onto this thought, then returned to the data: “If we really want to short Focus Media, we need to wait. Its stock price isn’t high yet. And since the fundamentals of both cities are questionable, its financial reports deserve digging into.”

Yu Xing grunted: “I’m not good at this. Wait till you’re on board, then we’ll see.”

Liu Wanying sat across from him. Hearing this, she felt as if another version of herself had to speak up: “Yu Xing, you really talk in strange ways.”

“Is that a compliment?” Yu Xing asked, then thought: “If we wait for its stock to rebound, we’ll have to re-verify the data then.”

“No need. Just multiply the current statistical ratio by the number it claims at that time.” Liu Wanying offered a cheaper alternative.

Yu Xing hesitated: “Won’t that be insufficiently rigorous?”

Liu Wanying asked: “Did every experiment in your lab always produce reproducible data?”

Yu Xing thought it was a good question.

“We just need to prove there’s a problem. It’s a U.S. listed company—its financial disclosures will draw far more attention from that market.” Liu Wanying felt confident here. “The base data will be the marker.”

Yu Xing realized this elite employee had already entered short-selling preparation mode.

He proposed: “Once we have full data and dig into the financials, if we decide to short it, we each fund our own share—no problem?”

Liu Wanying nodded: “No problem. Our capital is tiny compared to the company’s size. Nasdaq’s channels are mature—we have many ways to ensure safety.”

Yu Xing smiled: “With Sister Ying handling it, I’m at ease.”

Liu Wanying was about to smile, then stopped herself: “Register first.”

Yu Xing chuckled, lowered his head to eat.

After a while, Liu Wanying grew curious: “Who taught you Cantonese?”

“A… friend.” A flicker of complex emotion passed through Yu Xing. “How’s it? Not bad?”

Liu Wanying nodded: “It’s quite good.”

Yu Xing invited: “Dinner was early. Want to catch a movie tonight? I heard the new films are good.”

Liu Wanying gave him a sidelong glance: “Like what?”

Yu Xing was immediately stuck: “Uh… pick one at the theater. My memory’s bad.”

“Yes, your memory’s terrible—you can’t even remember numbers or ratios.” Liu Wanying snapped. “Very sincere.”

Yu Xing realized his invitation did seem insincere—he’d have to check what films were out next time.

He ate for a while, then asked: “Where are you going tonight? Want to walk in the park? The evening breeze is nice.”

“I need to take the data home, study the financials, and think about my brilliant career—that’s the advice from a successful entrepreneur.” Liu Wanying refused. “Understood, Boss Yu?”

Yu Xing sighed helplessly. When the meal ended and he saw her actually hailing a taxi, he called out in Cantonese: “Hey, give me a chance?”

Liu Wanying turned back: “Then give me a reason.”

Yu Xing thought for two seconds, then said sincerely: “Can we tie our interests together?”

Liu Wanying opened the taxi door, slightly angry, leaving her final words of the night: “Bastard!”

The taxi sped away.

Yu Xing decided he couldn’t be so sincere next time.

But… well, he was already too sincere.

That night, back at Zhen’ai.com’s employee dormitory, Yu Xing thought and thought, then sent Liu Wanying a text: Check the cat.

After a long while, his phone vibrated.

Yu Xing opened the MMS and saw a striking photo.

He studied it carefully, thoroughly satisfied.

When he put down his phone, Yu Xing suddenly felt something was wrong—no, where was the cat?