Chapter 97: 095 The Mountain Doesn

The spread of the internet is fast!

Even though he already understood this, Yu Xing couldn’t help but remark as he watched Baixiaosheng’s user registrations climb steadily.

From the 21st to the 26th, during the meeting, Baixiaosheng’s user count doubled from 26,587 to 58,145 in five days—that’s an average increase of 6,312 users per day.

Over six thousand users per day!

Two days’ growth equals a month’s work!

Moreover, Baixiaosheng had a registration threshold requiring real-name verification.

Even under these conditions, daily growth remained this high, filling the entire company with joy.

The boss’s beating was not in vain!

Yu Xing reviewed the past five days’ data with his colleagues and laid out his work plan.

“We must emphasize our stance on the homepage: my declaration to the media and the public of being an ‘independent third party’—this is the logical foundation of our website’s existence in the internet industry, and something we must uphold, or our site’s vitality will vanish quickly.”

“Second, protect user information and never disclose it externally—this must also be prominently displayed, as it’s how we earn users’ trust.”

One is our positioning in the industry; the other is our promise to users.

As a small website, both points will face skepticism; although we set user growth as our initial goal, user activity is an equally critical dimension to consider.

If users register but remain inactive, they’re no different from those who never registered.

At this point, Lu Haiying said: “Senior brother, since we’ve achieved our early goal ahead of schedule, we can now run small-scale tests on the title and anonymity features.”

Baixiaosheng still hadn’t enabled anonymity; 50,000 users was the watershed—time to approach investors and formally establish ourselves as a key player in workplace discourse.

Yu Xing nodded in agreement: “Good idea. Both features can go live. We now have a solid base of workplace users—we need to retain them. The evidence shows our bombardment of the internet dating industry was successful and effective.”

“This is a partial validation of our workplace discourse.”

“Anonymity could trigger a chain of small, continuous ‘bombardments.’”

“Internet spread is fast—these continuous small bombardments will inevitably attract users.”

Praise doesn’t need a mask—just post directly. But anyone using a mask to post anonymously is almost certainly complaining or attacking, and this nature is similar to Yu Xing’s bombardment of internet dating.

Yu Xing’s bombardment brought significant traffic, but he couldn’t show up once a week to bombard again, nor did he have that many materials.

So anonymity mobilizes the masses—let countless “Yu Xings” in the workplace use their own bombardment materials.

At this moment, Kong Huilin, who had come to work just in time for the meeting, asked: “Director Yu, is the anonymity feature perhaps...”

She hesitated: “A bit prone to collateral damage?”

Facing this concern about the basic setup, Yu Xing didn’t get angry—he patiently explained: “First, we must understand which side our website stands on. Compared to powerful corporations and professional legal teams, individuals are weak. Our existence is the aggregation of countless individuals.”

“Why did I insist on rejecting investment from internet companies? Why refuse funding from Tencent, Alibaba—even though they haven’t even offered? Because to succeed, we need recognition from countless individuals.”

“Is it the weak individual who easily harms the powerful corporation—or the reverse? I think the answer is obvious.”

“Second, as a platform, we must bear some responsibility for user speech and implement constraints.”

“At first glance, anonymity seems to make users fearless—but in fact, our constraint mechanism is already embedded in the threshold.”

“To use anonymity, users must pass dual verification: real name and employment. They are anonymous to external corporations, not to our platform.”

“They know we can hold them accountable—that itself is an invisible constraint.”

Yu Xing concluded: “So the discussion circles back—we must give users a trustworthy reputation. They must believe we protect their information and reject outside corporate interference. Only then can they, under constraint, provide the most compelling topics.”

This entire system is interdependent.

Hearing this, Lu Haiying said with sudden clarity: “Senior brother, this beating Brother Song took, our website’s uncompromising stance, and your media statements—all these are shaping our image in users’ eyes.”

Zhong Zhiling suddenly had a disrespectful thought: Could Song Yufeng have been hired by Senior Brother to get beaten?

He shook off the implausible idea and said with a wry smile: “So having backbone really does matter.”

So the company truly needs a performance artist of integrity.

Yu Xing nodded and offered a small suggestion: “Let’s give the title to Brother Song first—have him post from the hospital. It’ll give users an adaptation period and fresh appeal. What do you think of ‘Steel Chairman’?”

The jokes about Song Yufeng had already spread widely, so he thought this playful approach could promote it.

The meeting room attendees paused briefly, then all nodded enthusiastically: “Good idea! Excellent!”

“I plan to approach investors before the New Year—before Lunar New Year in January. Originally, I estimated reaching 50,000 users by February, which would’ve given us more time,” Yu Xing smiled. “But now, the schedule is tight.”

His conversations with the second-in-command, third-in-command, and chairman had been in January, but the company hadn’t locked it in rigidly—this would adjust the timeline accordingly.

Yu Xing tapped his knuckles lightly on the table, signaling everyone to pay attention to what came next: “To be honest, our company is hiring and doing ground promotions, and despite securing our angel round, we’re still under financial pressure.”

“But if we secure Series A funding, our development over the next one to two years won’t be overly constrained.”

“The internet industry grows fast.”

“If we secure Series A funding, we can start planning internal reward options.”

Yu Xing’s words lifted everyone’s spirits.

He looked around at his colleagues and smiled: “I can say this today: the company is aiming for an IPO. Maybe in three years, maybe five. Everyone, for your own future, needs to put in more effort.”

At this moment, “more effort” took on a glittering, tangible form.

Baixiaosheng’s first mid-to-senior management meeting ended.

After everyone else left, Lu Haiying shared her thoughts: “Senior brother, this company operates with much more attention to detail.”

She had followed Senior Brother since the beginning—she knew exactly how Guo’ai.com had been before.

Back then, they talked about cohesion, company foundations, future business analysis—none of that mattered. Just offer high commissions and people would charge ahead!

Baixiaosheng was different.

Lu Haiying could feel Senior Brother was settling down to work more deliberately.

Yu Xing rubbed his face and replied: “We can’t afford to be careless. We must learn from experience, adjust quickly. Times change fast, and so do our competitors.”

He looked at Lu Haiying and Zhong Zhiling and smiled: “We must straighten out our own logic, do everything we can—only then can we convince investors. Only when their money arrives can we build our moat.”

We still need money—to expand user scale further, which in turn expands workplace discourse.

Yu Xing didn’t know if competitors would copy him, but he knew that if his side could quickly establish scale and reputation as a moat, later competitors would struggle to rise. No business model is mysterious.

If a true competitor emerged, they’d find it nearly impossible to catch up to Baixiaosheng’s fast track unless they accepted big-firm investment—and if they did accept big-firm investment and resources...

Yu Xing had discussed this before—it would destroy their own foundation.

Big firms’ inherent positions would inevitably face stronger user skepticism.

In that scenario, their own employees wouldn’t dare criticize their big firm, and employees from other firms certainly wouldn’t allow their staff to go to a rival’s site to criticize their own company.

So this is a naturally effective vertical domain limiting big-firm interference.

Big firms can’t do it, and can’t even invest well—so naturally, it’s people like Yu Xing who get to eat a small piece of the cake.

Compared to competing with big firms, Baixiaosheng’s anticipated competitive environment is far more relaxed.

“Senior Brother,” Zhong Zhiling said hesitantly, “I originally planned to go to Yangcheng tomorrow. But with this situation...”

He worried that if he left for Yangcheng, their headquarters might be wiped out by then.

Yu Xing waved his hand: “Still worried we’ll get beaten to death? Think—what good would you do by staying? Another person to get beaten? You can do better by handling ground promotions—our operations will run smoother.”

Users acquired through ground promotions had already undergone dual real-name and employment verification—much easier than online at this stage.

Zhong Zhiling realized this made sense.

He nodded firmly: “Then I’ll leave for Yangcheng tomorrow—first, I’ll visit NetEase.”

NetEase’s headquarters is there. The previous unpleasantness with Guo’ai.com had vanished amid this shared interest—NetEase’s “NetEase Dating” clearly wanted to ride the momentum.

Yu Xing grunted in agreement.

He smiled: “Alright, one of you promotes externally, the other holds the fort—I’m confident. But the investors... I wonder how easy they’ll be to deal with.”

Zhong Zhiling glanced at Senior Brother and ventured: “Senior Brother, you’re not seriously thinking of approaching Xu Xin, are you?”

Yu Xing answered seriously: “Yes. I only have some history with her.”

Zhong Zhiling’s mind raced—how on earth could one person control another?

Lu Haiying also pursed her lips—other investors might be reasonable, but Xu Xin? No way. No amount of sincerity would work.

They exchanged a glance, both clearly stunned and confused.

“Just a try—if it fails, we’ll switch,” Yu Xing said calmly, though internally he was already planning his short-selling move next month.

If the investor outreach before the New Year fails, making money through short-selling would do too—as long as it secures Baixiaosheng’s operations for the coming period.

On December 27, near the end of the workday, Ctrip’s deputy director Jiao Shiqian opened Baixiaosheng’s website, skillfully clicked into the “Jianghu” section, and happily read the latest victim stories.

Jiao Shiqian was a verified account by Baixiaosheng’s CEO.

He had once browsed the site out of curiosity but hadn’t opened it since.

Only after hearing about Yu Xing’s bombardment of the internet dating industry and his colleagues’ discussions did he log in—but he only browsed, never posted or commented.

He found the whole thing interesting, but hadn’t expected it to escalate so dramatically.

It wasn’t just a small website attacking the industry—major portals like NetEase, Sohu, and Tencent had even republished reports.

How had Yu Xing pulled this off?

Jiao Shiqian found it astonishing, but happily accepted the spectacle.

Work was too boring—having something entertaining to watch was always good.

When quitting time came, Jiao Shiqian was about to close the page when he noticed a notification from the internal message bell. He clicked it open curiously—it was an invitation to beta-test the anonymity feature.

They’re really doing anonymity? Why invite me?

I’m just here to watch the show!

Jiao Shiqian was startled, then remembered his conversation with Yu Xing that night—so they really were building this feature.

He stared at the message’s text—only one sentence stood out: “Hello, we invite you to become an insider!”

Hah!

Jiao Shiqian decisively deleted the message, closed the page, and firmly refused to become an insider.

I’m a damn vice director with a bright future—am I really here playing games with you?

He moved the mouse, intending to remove the bookmark from this suspicious website, but at the very moment he was about to click, his finger hesitated.

After thinking for several seconds, Jiao Shiqian decided to keep the website.

He wanted to see if any other moles would show up, or if moles from other companies would emerge.

The anonymous feature would definitely cause trouble.

As long as it doesn’t come back to bite me.

……

On the evening of December 28, Xu Xin was curled up on the sofa at home, scrolling through her phone; when she heard the door open, she turned her head and smiled, “You’re back? I’ve got something funny to share with you.”

Li Song had endured a grueling day negotiating with investors; hearing his wife’s words, he merely grunted “Mm.”

Xu Xin laughed, “The guy who blasted your company—that Yu Xing—he sent me a text today, wanting to meet up and talk about investment. Hahaha.”

She thought this whole thing was utterly absurd.

After saying this, Xu Xin burst out laughing: “What a coincidence—he must have no idea about our relationship.”

Li Song cursed under his breath and asked, “How did you respond?”

“I ignored him completely,” Xu Xin put down her phone. “I just thought it was funny.”

Li Song nodded, took two steps, then suddenly said, “Wait—he does know our relationship. When I bought his company in Jin Ling last time, I mentioned you.”

Xu Xin froze. He knows our relationship?

She frowned, “Why did you mention me?”

“Jingdong’s Liu Qiangdong called him then, and I just casually mentioned you—maybe I only said it once. He probably didn’t even remember,” Li Song walked a few steps, poured himself a glass of water. “He’s got water in his brain—he’s insane!”

He tipped back half the glass, still furious: “The mountains may not move, but the waters turn—kid, your road is still long!”

Xu Xin glanced at her phone and shook her head. The young man’s road truly was still long.

(End of Chapter)