Chen Yansen turned.
The man standing there was unmistakable, even in a cramped tea restaurant—Liu Qiangdong.
"President Liu! This is Mr. Chen Yansen, CEO of FoxTao. President Chen, this is—" Ye Qiuping shot to her feet, flustered.
"President Liu. An honor." Chen Yansen stood, cutting off the introduction, and extended his hand first.
Liu Qiangdong, in his thirties, already had weathering at the corners of his eyes and a stark streak of white in his hair. Worry lingered in his gaze, but his presence was solid, grounded—a street-smart intensity that set him apart from the polished VCs of the future. His heavy accent wrapped around his words like calloused hands.
The Zhongguancun legend himself, Chen Yansen noted. The man shared a certain… appreciation for life's simpler, more beautiful things. A man of taste.
"Mr. Chen. Your name has been echoing in my circles lately. Three days. One brand. Thirty-four million." Liu Qiangdong's handshake was firm, his eyes sharp, assessing. "You've made quite a few people sit up."
"Luck and timing, President Liu. Please, join us." Chen Yansen offered a calm smile, gesturing to a seat.
Once settled, Liu Qiangdong got straight to the point. "I overheard your earlier comment. 'Both JD.com and Taobao will succeed and fail.' A man who says that must have a perspective. I'd like to hear it."
"A careless remark, President Liu. The future is fog. Who can truly see through it?" Chen Yansen deflected smoothly. Explaining would mean revealing foresight of economic tides and his own ambitions—sounding less like strategy and more like a street fortune-teller.
Liu Qiangdong gave a short, understanding nod. The business world was fog.
When he learned FoxTao had just inked an exclusive deal with JD.com, a genuine spark of interest lit his eyes. FoxTao moved high-ticket apparel. If they could move that, could they move JD.com's backlog of mid-range appliances? Even… large appliances?
"Mr. Chen," Liu Qiangdong leaned in, the entrepreneur's hunger clear. "What's your read on the large appliance market? Interested in a category-specific promotion with JD.com?"
Ah. Chen Yansen instantly understood the subtext. Cash flow. It was always about cash flow. 2010 was a cash-strapped year for JD.com. A glut of unsold fridges and A/C units was a chain around its neck. A stellar sales report would be ammunition for the next funding round.
After next April, once that $1.5 billion C2 round landed, getting this man's ear in a tea shop would be impossible.
"Large appliances are a thousand yuan and up. Not like clothing. Low repurchase rate, entirely dependent on new customer acquisition," Chen Yansen laid out the reality. "FoxTao is willing. But the final sales volume depends entirely on how much margin you're willing to put on the table to attract those customers."
"The manufacturing costs are fixed. I can't offer you Metersbonwe-level commissions," Liu Qiangdong replied, a trace of a wry smile on his lips.
"'Value' is the only word that matters to the user. If you're serious, we can discuss commissions, advertising fees, and format." Chen Yansen kept his tone neutral. He had plans, but FoxTao's user base for four-digit items was unproven. He needed a bigger win first—the upcoming Super Cashback event—to prove the platform's pull before Liu Qiangdong would commit real resources.
"A verbal agreement, then. Ye Qiuping will follow up." Liu Qiangdong understood perfectly. He introduced his companions—the North China GM and Zhang Limin from logistics, core JD.com pillars—before leaving with his team.
"Sis Ping, your CEO eats here?" Song Yuncheng whispered after they left, astonished.
"You're mistaken." Chen Yansen tapped the menu. "Their cheapest set meal is forty-eight yuan. In 2010, that's not 'low-key.' That's 'expensive.'"
Song Yuncheng blinked. So Zhang Hanhua of Amazon wasn't just greedy… he was grotesquely extravagant.
Beijing Airport, Departures.
"This trip was worth it. JD.com feels… real. Solid. How is Amazon, a foreign giant, so hollow?" Song Yuncheng mused aloud.
"Has nothing to do with foreign or domestic. Some people are just corrupt. It's a character flaw, not a corporate policy." Chen Yansen's voice held a thread of cold contempt from memories not yet lived. Kickbacks, phantom suppliers, prison sentences—he'd seen the ugly underbelly.
"Will… FoxTao have people like that someday?" she asked, hesitant.
"What do you think?" He smiled, turning the question back on her.
Song Yuncheng took a deep breath. "Boss. I want to change positions. After these trips… I think I'm better suited for Channel Management or Business Development."
A career pivot. A bold ask.
"Not afraid of running into another Zhang Hanhua?"
"You said it's all about understanding human nature. I want to learn."
"Good." Chen Yansen's smile turned razor-edged. "Then prove it. I want to see Zhang Hanhua fall. You handle him. Succeed, and the position is yours."
"M-me?" Song Yuncheng's confidence faltered.
"An employee proves their worth with results. No rush. Think about it."
She met his gaze, defiance hardening her resolve. "I can do it."
Chen Yansen chuckled inwardly. Am I leading her down a darker path? So be it. Nice guys finished last in this game.
Late Night. Jiang University Campus.
The taxi dropped them off at 11:10 PM. The campus was a vault of silence.
"The sofa?" Chen Yansen asked.
"Yes." Song Yuncheng's reply was immediate. The squeal of her suitcase wheels was the only sound on the deserted path.
"You're sure about switching? Design is your major."
"Business pays better." Her answer was brutally simple.
"Tell Xu Dan to hire a new designer tomorrow. Hand over your work cleanly."
"But you said I had to deal with Zhang Hanhua first…" Confusion flickered across her face.
"You need to be in Business to maneuver against him. Think you can take him down with a sketchpad?" he teased.
"Chen Yansen… thank you." The gratitude was quiet, sincere.
"Just words? No tangible appreciation?" He pointed playfully to his lips.
She answered with an eye-roll, pushing her suitcase ahead of him.
They walked in silence under the rustling plane trees, the cold autumn wind stripping away the last of the leaves. The few hundred meters felt longer.
Song Yuncheng watched his back. He was talented, sharp, and, annoyingly, considerate. At 1.86 meters and undeniably handsome, it was… distracting. But she knew her own circumstances. And he had a girlfriend.
Don't be so good to me, she thought, the words a silent plea lost in the wind.
Next Morning. FoxTao Headquarters.
Chen Yansen pulled the final numbers for the Metersbonwe blast.
Total Sales: 34.69 million yuan.
Gross Profit: 5.97 million.
Margin: ~20%.
A fierce grin touched his lips. This was the power of brand flash sales—fat margins while competitors would drown in the thin gruel of platform wars. Imitators would come, sure. But by then, he'd already be on the next thing.
After the morning meeting, he took the stack of resumes for the final interview round.
Hundreds of Kilometers Away. A Shanghai Café.
Gu Yaozhong's world shattered.
"Your business model and profit levels don't meet our standards," Zhang Jiancheng of Thinking Capital said dismissively. "Besides, your industry already has a clear leader. We invest in winners, not also-rans."
Four years of work. Gone. Crushed by the shadow of a company that didn't exist a year ago.
Chen Yansen, unaware he'd just starved a future unicorn in its crib, wouldn't have cared. The landscape was a jungle. For every Gu Yaozhong that fell, ten more would rise.
FoxTao. Interview Room.
Chen Yansen looked at the young man across the table, the final resume in his hand. He asked a simple, pointed question:
"Have you used FoxTao? What's your user level… F1 or F2?"
End of Chapter