Back at school, over the two days Xu Ye had been gone, everyone had been running flat out on the Christmas Eve campaign.
The night before, the campus agents had already loaded packaged Peace Apple gift boxes into the vending machines across every campus.
While Xu Ye’s team had been putting all of this together, Luo Wenbing at Kangyuan Fruit Shop had also been getting ready for Christmas Eve. His approach was the same as previous years: cheap gift-box packaging, apples inside, five yuan apiece. In years past, with nobody competing, Christmas Eve alone had made him a nice little sum.
Tuesday morning, Luo Wenbing hadn’t been at his shop long when he saw Qingqing Fruit Shop opening for the day. The banner they’d hung up above the door and the roll-up sign they’d put out on the pavement caught his eye. Curious, he walked the thirty-odd meters over and stopped a distance off to read what was written on them.
“An Apple Represents My Heart… Buy More, Get More… A Peace Apple gift box, fifteen yuan. Have they lost their minds?”
Luo Wenbing couldn’t for the life of him make sense of Xu Ye’s thinking.
An apple was around two hundred grams. At this year’s going rate of eight yuan a jin, a single apple came out to a little over three yuan. Prices going up on Christmas Eve was expected, but this — this was ridiculous.
Fifteen yuan for one apple? You’d have to be an idiot to buy that.
Luo Wenbing had actually been worried Xu Ye would try to start a price war around this time of year. Seeing Qingqing Fruit Shop’s pricing, he relaxed completely.
Xu Ye, for his part, had never given Kangyuan Fruit Shop a moment’s thought. He’d taken yesterday off; this morning he’d dutifully attended his two lectures, but for the afternoon Mao Zedong Thought class he simply had Yang Fei sign him in. [TL: 毛概, “Introduction to Mao Zedong Thought,” a required political theory course in Chinese universities.] After lunch in the cafeteria, he hailed a taxi and headed out to miHoYo’s studio in Minhang District.
miHoYo’s current office had been won as first prize in a 2011 Shanghai startup competition. It was about fifty square meters — roughly the same size as Xu Ye’s own office at school — but packed to the walls with people.
Xu Ye pushed the door open to see young men in their mid-twenties hunched at computers in every conceivable posture, hammering away at code. His arrival barely registered with any of them. This was clearly nothing out of the ordinary.
“Xu Ye!” Cai Haoyu, spotting him, hurried over.
There had, in fact, been other investors willing to put money into the company — but everyone else’s terms had been suffocating. Xu Ye, apart from asking for a slightly larger equity stake, had put no other conditions on the table. That was precisely why they’d chosen to work with him.
“This place is hard to find.”
Cai Haoyu smiled. “It really is, but there’s nothing for it. Office rent in Shanghai is brutal, and we’re in the middle of a cash crunch right now.”
“Then let’s cut to it. Business talk.”
“Sure. Meeting room.”
There were two other people in the meeting room, both Cai Haoyu’s co-founders. Xu Ye exchanged a few pleasantries with them, then Cai Haoyu slid the contract across. The electronic version had come to Xu Ye’s email the day before, and he’d had Xu Wanying — the law student — look it over.
He skimmed through it once, found nothing to flag, picked up a pen, and signed. He handed one copy back to Cai Haoyu and kept the other for himself.
“The money should hit your corporate account before five this afternoon. Give me a shout when it clears.”
“No problem.”
Xu Ye stood, smiled, and extended his hand. “Here’s to a good partnership.”
“To a good partnership.”
Maybe it was because both parties were young — the whole signing went astonishingly fast, no dragging, no theatre. Even Cai Haoyu’s two co-founders hadn’t expected it to be this smooth.
“Want a tour of the company?”
“Sure.”
Cai Haoyu walked him around the office with obvious enthusiasm, introducing every employee, what they did, where they fit in.
It was past four when Xu Ye finally left the studio. Not long after he was out the door, finance took the incoming-funds notification.
Cai Haoyu, visibly moved, walked out to the main work area and clapped twice. “Brothers. We finally have money. Time to go big.”
Xu Ye walked out of the office tower in a state of pure exhilaration.
The contract in his hand was worth five million yuan today. In a few years, its value would be at least a hundred times that.
Because once miHoYo hit big with Honkai Impact 3 and started pulling in real revenue, they wouldn’t need to take on more outside investment — which meant Xu Ye’s share would never be diluted.
Just picturing himself a few years from now, worth a few billion — he could hardly describe the feeling.
Back at school.
Xu Ye hadn’t even made it to the shop yet when he spotted Luo Wenbing of Kangyuan Fruit Shop standing out front with a megaphone, hawking his own apples.
Looking at the stack of cheap paper-box-packaged apples out on Luo Wenbing’s stoop, Xu Ye had to swallow a laugh.
The people who bought gift boxes on Christmas Eve were buying to give. If you were giving, the whole point was that the packaging had to feel like something — the classier the better.
His gift boxes weren’t just the highest-tier packaging on the market. The apples inside them were Tianshui apples — big and deeply red, twice the price of the ordinary kind. [TL: Tianshui, in Gansu Province, is famous for premium red apples.] Add the upscale box, the printed message slip, the red-string bracelet, and the per-unit cost was already substantial. Fifteen yuan wasn’t unreasonable at all.
Never mind that his shop was running “buy more, get more”: buy two get one free, buy five get two. Averaged out, the effective price was even better.
Sure, he was now technically a “near-billionaire in waiting.” But money that could be made still had to be made — he had his mother-in-law to pay back.
Xu Ye walked into the shop, took a seat, and opened the Qingqing Fruit Shop customer group on his phone. He started typing:
“Kids, tomorrow night is Christmas Eve. We’re rolling out a Peace Apple gift box — apart from the apple, we’ve got a thoughtful little surprise gift tucked inside. Perfect for the boy/girlfriend. Single boxes 15 yuan; buy two get one free. Absolutely worth it. Anyone interested, place orders now.”
Messages started coming in almost immediately.
“@Admin — what’s inside besides the apple?”
“@Admin — I want to know too.”
“@Admin — what if you don’t have a girlfriend?”
Xu Ye typed back: “That stays a secret for now. And for those without a girlfriend — surely you at least have someone you like?”
He snapped a picture of a gift box, dropped it in the chat, and added: “Our boxes are premium, classy, top-shelf. Give it to anyone and it works. Limited stock — no guarantees we’ll still have them tomorrow night.”
The scarcity pitch went to work instantly. People in the group started clamoring to come by and see them for themselves.
Xu Ye exited the chat and called Qin Zhiwei.
Xu Ye: “Hey, Zhiwei.” [TL: Xu Ye’s ongoing needle at Qin Zhiwei — 伟哥, which doubles as the Chinese brand name for Viagra.]
Qin Zhiwei: “I’m in the middle of chatting with Shen Xinyi. Whatever it is, spit it out.”
Xu Ye: “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Do you want to bring Shen Xinyi an apple?”
Qin Zhiwei: “Obviously, yes.”
Xu Ye: “Come by my campus tomorrow. I’ll set you up with a Peace Apple gift box to take to her, and while you’re at it you can bring one to my girlfriend too. That gives you a legitimate excuse to go find Shen Xinyi.”
Qin Zhiwei: “Your school’s too far. Aren’t the gift boxes already at my school? I’ll just grab two and bring them over to the two of them.”
Xu Ye: “I want to handwrite the message slips myself.”
Xu Ye: “It’ll mean more that way.”
Xu Ye: “Qin Zhiwei, are you telling me you won’t put in even this much effort for Shen Xinyi?”
Qin Zhiwei: “Are you trying to PUA me?” [TL: PUA — “pick-up artist,” internet-imported term that in Chinese usage broadened to mean any form of manipulative pressure, especially the guilt-tripping “if you really cared you would do this” variety.]
Xu Ye: “…”
Qin Zhiwei: “I don’t have class tomorrow afternoon. Come meet me at the subway station.”
Xu Ye: “Got it. Hanging up.”
Xu Ye ended the call and turned. “Li Tongwen, got paper and a pen?”
Li Tongwen handed both over. Xu Ye laid the paper on a book to write against, thought for a moment, then carefully wrote out:
“The feeling of running into you—”
“Feels like walking a very long road, and finally getting home.”
“Signed: your most, most, most favorite Xu Ye.”
(End of Chapter 163)