"Virtual reality augmentation technology?"
Hearing Jiang Hai's words, Larry Page and Sergey Brin exchanged a glance. Both saw the same hint of surprise—and excitement—in each other's eyes.
No one understood the importance of this technology better than they did.
"Forgive me for being direct," Sergey Brin said after a brief pause. "But Mr. Jiang doesn't seem like someone particularly interested in following new technology developments."
His words sounded a little blunt, but they were accurate.
From their earlier conversation, they thought they had already figured Jiang Hai out.
He had behaved like a complete outsider—openly admitting he knew nothing about IT and only cared about making money. He had practically labeled himself a pure businessman.
Not that they looked down on people like that.
They weren't so shallow. Nor were they young enough to believe talent in one field gave them the right to look down on others. They had long outgrown that naive stage.
But people like Jiang Hai usually focused only on short-term profits. Without a long-term technical vision, they tended to invest only in projects that made quick money—Android licensing, smart systems, shell companies producing phones, things like that.
So when Jiang Hai suddenly proposed cooperating on an AR project, they were honestly puzzled.
"Don't look at me like that," Jiang Hai said with a chuckle. "I really don't understand much about this stuff. I just love Pokémon GO."
He pulled out his phone and shook it lightly. The Poké Ball icon was clearly visible on the screen.
"If you could launch this in China, it'd probably explode even harder."
Seeing this, the two founders couldn't help laughing.
So that was the reason.
"There's no way," Larry Page said with a smile. "The game relies heavily on Google Maps. China doesn't allow highly detailed maps, especially around certain… sensitive locations."
Everyone understood what he meant.
Google had already withdrawn from mainland China years ago, mainly because of policy restrictions.
There were too many military bases and restricted areas. It was impossible for Google satellites to freely scan everything. Even if Google promised to avoid sensitive zones, who would trust an American company with that?
Add search engine regulation issues—and competition from Baidu—and leaving the market had been inevitable.
"And this game requires Google Maps, Google accounts, Gmail…" Larry shrugged. "Even if we wanted to launch it, the policies wouldn't allow it."
Reality was reality.
"Alright, let's drop the politics," Jiang Hai said, waving his hand. "That's not my business anyway."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I'm simply optimistic about this project. I think it can make money. So I'd like to hear what you two think."
Larry and Sergey exchanged another look.
Then Larry spoke.
"Mr. Jiang, are you familiar with Alphabet?"
"A little," Jiang Hai nodded. "Google is now a subsidiary under Alphabet. That's why I'm here to verify my equity."
"Correct," Larry said. "Sergey and I founded Alphabet last year. We separated all our companies. Alphabet includes Google, Ventures, Capital, Labs, Nest, YouTube… and more."
"I wanted to completely separate business from research."
His tone grew serious.
"I've always believed that businessmen shouldn't interfere with R&D. But very few shareholders have that kind of long-term patience. So we had to structurally split the company to protect innovation."
"We're not just working on AR. We're researching robotics, AI, and even flying cars. The flying car project is already about seventy percent complete."
He looked straight at Jiang Hai.
"If you're really interested, we can add you to the team."
Jiang Hai blinked.
"But… why me?"
He scratched his head awkwardly.
"Honestly, before you mentioned flying cars, I felt pretty relaxed. But once you said that, I'm sure you wouldn't lack investors. If you announced a seventy-percent-complete flying car, people would line up from here to Los Angeles to invest. So why me?"
Larry smiled.
"First, I don't want meddling shareholders."
"Second, I need cash. You fit both requirements perfectly."
He paused, then added jokingly:
"And I'm a loyal fan of your beef."
Sergey laughed. "Larry and I go to Padretta at least twice a week. It's the only restaurant in Los Angeles that serves your beef."
Jiang Hai couldn't help laughing.
Was that really a reason?
Well… if they said it was, then it counted.
"Alright," he said, spreading his hands. "You've convinced me. So what exactly do you want this hands-off manager to do?"
Truthfully, he was tempted.
Even with only search, advertising, and Android licensing, Google's net income last year had reached over seventy billion dollars.
With his 1.2% stake, his dividends alone could exceed eighty million dollars a year.
If AR, flying cars, drones, and robotics actually became reality in five or ten years…
How much would the company be worth then?
How much would he earn annually?
Just thinking about it made his heart race.
"Sergey and I discussed it," Larry said seriously. "After restructuring, some shareholders are exiting. Their shares total about 0.6%. If your funds are ready, we can allocate a little over 0.3% to you—bringing your total to roughly 1%."
"How much?" Moses Adams blurted out before Jiang Hai could respond.
"One percent," Larry repeated calmly.
Moses quickly pulled Jiang Hai aside, opened his phone, and brought up Alphabet's market value.
"Do the math yourself," he whispered.
Jiang Hai glanced down.
Alphabet's market capitalization was in the hundreds of billions.
One percent meant roughly five billion dollars.
Five. Billion.
His current liquid assets were just over five billion.
How the hell did these two know exactly how much money he had?
He quickly ran through the numbers in his head.
After various investments, stock purchases, and selling gold, he was sitting on about 5.2 billion. But taxes were coming. And he had already paid for a plane.
If he bought this stake…
He'd basically be emptied out again.
"This…" Jiang Hai hesitated.
Moses quietly gestured: Buy it.
It was absolutely worth it.
After a long pause, Jiang Hai gritted his teeth.
Based on his current income, he could sell more grass next spring. Taxes weren't the real problem.
But this opportunity?
It might never come again.
He wanted those shares.
(To be continued.)