Chapter 54: Rival Alert

Social products are inherently sinful—the lower the content sinks, the lower the cost of crime. Jian Zhaowen and Lei Zheng had stepped off the social track, but both were noble competitors who could win through skill alone. Naturally, they disdained breaking moral boundaries.

Lei Zheng rented two offices in the financial district on Fangdian Road and immediately got to work after informing Jian Zhaowen. The newly constructed financial district faced an old factory across a narrow road, which would surely be congested during rush hours. With the ongoing construction of overpasses and road expansions at Lianyang Intersection, it was clear what “inconvenient transportation” meant. Initially considering renting Regus in Xintiandi, Jian Zhaowen quickly relented when Lei Zheng arrived with three million yuan to invest in the company. Moreover, the two offices Lei Zheng secured came rent-free for the first year. If Jian were a woman, he might have considered marrying him out of gratitude. Lei Zheng lived in a loft at the nearby Silver Moon Financial Bay, with a height of 4.5 meters and a total area of 120 square meters over two floors. It took him only five minutes to walk to the office. The closer he lived, the deeper he slept, and his phone often went unanswered. After renting the office, Jian Zhaowen brought Yu Zhimei to visit. The empty office had just received its furniture, and the smell of sawdust and fresh paint lingered. As Yu Zhimei put on gloves to assemble tables, she remarked: “Jian Zhaowen, you’re just pulling me here to do开荒保洁 (initial cleaning)?”

Jian Zhaowen was still setting up a large whiteboard: “You don’t need to do that; property management will handle it.”

“Forget it, I can’t sit still.”

Once the office was mostly set up, Jian Zhaowen, starving and dizzy, took Yu Zhimei downstairs to find food. On the first floor, besides Starbucks, there was a very stylish coffee shop with about 200 square meters of narrow, elongated space. A large motorcycle stood at the entrance, more mechanical and modified than Sister He’s, gleaming with gold. At the far end, shelves displayed self-published poetry collections and a 2018 calendar designed with independent designers. Photos of Camus, Sartre, Duras, and Eileen Chang hung on the walls in a grid. Despite his usual skepticism toward sales pitches, Jian Zhaowen secretly bought a book after seeing Yu Zhimei linger. Noticing her fondness for orange latte, he ordered extra takeout. They sat in a corner discussing the company.

“Are you and Lei Zheng forming the company without other partners?”

“Yes, Lei Zheng and I each contribute part of the funding. We won’t seek angel investment. Next week, I’ll resign from my current company and focus on this place.”

“I saw your quarterly plan on your computer—there’s no HR position in the team structure?”

“What’s the point of such a useless position? No HR has caught my eye.”

“Jian Zhaowen, you’re so picky.”

“I have no affection for this role. Back in the day, I never attended campus or social recruitment. Those numerical logic tests were a waste of my time. I directly bypassed written and interview tests to reach the final stage. They’d ask why I was so arrogant—I’m confident, not arrogant.”

“Would they agree?”

“Why wouldn’t they? If they didn’t approve of my approach, I wouldn’t join their company. Tell me, what’s the purpose of those online IQ and EQ tests? To filter out those who didn’t study math well enough to solve problems. For someone like me who works on algorithms, these questions are laughable.”

Yu Zhimei stuffed a cookie into Jian Zhaowen’s mouth and finished her coffee: “Using your IQ and EQ to measure others isn’t appropriate for a social app. There should be other standards.”

“For a social app, we don’t need those. During interviews, I only look at past work, stress resistance, and whether they can communicate clearly.” Jian Zhaowen didn’t chew his cookie, speaking like an incense burner: “Exam-oriented education produces excellent test-takers. But put them in a sharing session, and they stutter, speak too softly, repeat themselves endlessly, and get offended if criticized. Working with them would be a huge waste of time.” He grabbed a coffee grinder from the next table, handling it deftly: “That’s why companies prefer graduates from prestigious schools—it’s not without reason.”

“So how will you handle team-building and relieving team stress?”

“If someone working with me complains about not having fun, they shouldn’t work here.”

“Posting that on your Weibo account will get you criticized.”

“I just like telling the truth. Am I wrong?”

“Not only wrong but also overly harsh.”

“No genius is mild-mannered. That’s a basic quality of successful people. By the way, you know Lei Zheng, not because of Dou Yu, right?”

Yu Zhimei laughed: “Of course not. Xiao Xi was my neighbor when I rented a place long ago. He’s an excellent dancer, practicing all night. When he competed in Shanghai, he would stay at a neighbor’s place, separated by only a thin wall. Our relationship was solid. Don’t think we’ve always lived comfortably—back then, we were comrades in hardship, buying groceries and cooking together.”

“He was already… a girl back then?”

“Yes, I always thought Lei Zheng was straightened out by Xiao Xi—you haven’t seen Xiao Xi’s dancing charm. He’s a drag queen, dancing in women’s clothing, hotter than any girl.”

“The fact that you introduced me to Lei Zheng shows how close you and Xiao Xi are.” What truly bothered Jian Zhaowen was that during those strong relationships, Yu Zhimei’s ex-boyfriend existed—without “Jian Zhaowen” in that memory, it was envious.

“People who meet in humble times form strong bonds. Don’t you feel the same?”

“I don’t have humble beginnings.” Jealous Jian Zhaowen wouldn’t easily admit any personal Waterloo. Yu Zhimei glanced at the time: “I have to meet a client. Are you meeting Lei Zheng?”

“Yes, I’ll call him down after you leave.” Suddenly, Jian Zhaowen pulled Yu Zhimei: “Can you kiss me?”

Yu Zhimei kissed her palm and pressed it firmly onto Jian Zhaowen’s forehead: “Goodbye.”

Waiting for Lei Zheng felt like waiting for a new century. Jian Zhaowen was glad he brought his laptop, eating dinner and drinking two beers while finishing flashbacks and new features. Only then did Lei Zheng send a voice message yawning: “I’m in the office. Where are you?” Unhurriedly, Jian Zhaowen packed a sandwich and went upstairs. Lei Zheng was busy playing with his phone, not even looking up, so relaxed that Jian couldn’t muster any anger. Since their first meeting, Jian Zhaowen had felt that Lei Zheng must possess some legendary skills, explaining why so many sought him out.

By 3 AM, Lei Zheng had listed all the product requirements for DayNight on the whiteboard and showed no intention of letting Jian Zhaowen go home. Only then did Jian painfully understand two truths: 1. High-level product managers don’t rely on methodologies; with good ideas, they can quickly build unique architectures to launch products. 2. Next time, there’s no need to arrive early to wait for Lei Zheng—sleep well during the day and appear after dark, avoiding the evening rush hour. Lei Zheng was as alert as an owl at night.

Lei Zheng liked Jian Zhaowen not only because his product had completed its cold start, was sufficiently unique, and featured distinctive algorithms. For Daytime, Lei Zheng kept his algorithm but significantly altered the product structure. He moved Jian Zhaowen’s strongest suit—matching—to the first page, creating different matching methods. Forced selection or algorithmic matching, each method offered distinct chat styles. The main navigation options were for sharing and posting content. The Discover page showcased selfies and short videos, but video wasn’t the main feature. Nighttime was for venting various emotions without profile pictures or videos, retaining only quick chats. Most touching to Jian Zhaowen was Lei Zheng’s proposal to create content planets on the homepage of both Day and Night. Clicking a planet revealed a single text message. He also proposed underaged protection entries, psychological counseling entries, and mutual aid groups, aligning perfectly with Jian’s thoughts. Lei Zheng smoked leisurely: “I agreed to work on DayNight because of this feature. I dislike mere money-grubbers.”

Jian Zhaowen looked at the main path for paid monetization on the whiteboard—it was clear and direct. Lei Zheng was someone who sharply divided money and justice. Jian didn’t argue, simply nodding in agreement.

As for placing short videos on a small page, there was only one reason: the timing wasn’t right. Videos were highly infectious and had low consumption costs, making them convenient for monetization. However, social apps didn’t need particularly strong video functions unless they were skirting the rules with live streaming gifts. Making video the main feature without strengthening reviews equaled earning dirty money, feeding users shallow needs better suited for downloading cheap movies. Social products were inherently sinful—the lower the content sank, the lower the crime cost. Though Jian Zhaowen and Lei Zheng had stepped off the social track, both were noble competitors who relied on skill and naturally disdained breaking moral boundaries.

At 4 AM, neither Lei Zheng nor Jian Zhaowen felt sleepy. After Lei Zheng finished explaining everything, he suddenly became drowsy and said goodbye: “I’m going to sleep upstairs. Are you driving back?”

“…What about the remaining product features?”

“See you tomorrow at this time. Implement these requirements as soon as possible; I need to hire operations staff.”

“…Alright.”

At 4:30 AM, Jian Zhaowen drove onto the elevated highway, his mind still constructing the product. The freshly tuned car performed exceptionally well, and he pressed the accelerator, feeling his soul lighten. Upon returning home, Jian Zhaowen suddenly smelled flowers—the ones on Yu Zhimei’s terrace had bloomed. He pulled a chair to sit on the terrace. The first rays of dawn hadn’t yet appeared, and the world was silent, filled with subtle fragrance. He gazed at the tranquil neighborhood and the nearby CBD, feeling like he had truly fallen in love with Shanghai for the first time.

When he woke up, Yu Zhimei was knocking on the wall—a new默契 (understanding) they had developed to remind each other to check their phones. Yu Zhimei had baked bread, and after rinsing his mouth, Jian Zhaowen went to the terrace. Yu Zhimei leaned out: “Jian Zhaowen, you’re such a blockhead, still waiting on the terrace. Come over for breakfast.”

Half-tempted by the smell of bread, Jian Zhaowen looked blearily at Yu Zhimei’s face. Indeed, Yu Zhimei didn’t have a boyfriend now, so why act like they were having an affair on the terrace? He entered her apartment, where Lu Lu was licking his paws on the sofa, completely ignoring Jian Zhaowen. Pretzel bread and bagels paired with black coffee—Yu Zhimei’s slender legs walked back and forth in front of him: “What time did you come back last night?”

“Slept at 6 AM.”

“You only slept four hours?” Yu Zhimei quickly snatched the black coffee from his hands: “Eat your bread and go back to sleep.”

Seizing the opportunity, Jian Zhaowen hugged her from behind: “Sleep with me.”

Yu Zhimei gracefully escaped from his arms: “Zheng Zeyan invited me to his place.”

“Huh?”

“To catch up.”

…What the fuck?

The previously drowsy Jian Zhaowen instantly woke up. He had neatly folded his feelings and stored them in his heart, planning to unfold them for Yu Zhimei at the right moment. But Zheng Zeyan actively inviting Yu Zhimei to his house? Who knew what they might do there. His guard immediately shot up—what if something happened between a man and a woman alone in a room? Zheng Zeyan looked like a man consumed by desire, ready to burn…

He definitely had to interfere.

Zheng Zeyan lived in Mengye Apartments near Yu Zhimei’s company, with direct access to a mall below. To the north was Xintiandi, and to the west, Tianzifang. The complex was inhabited by foreigners and genuine Shanghai tycoons. As Yu Zhimei approached the building, Jian Zhaowen suddenly appeared behind her, intercepting the fruit and wine in her hands, adding: “You specially went to the supermarket in the mall—call me next time, I’ll help you buy kiwis for 600 yuan for twenty.”

This bad habit of overspending became his talking point. Yu Zhimei crossed her arms, looking at Jian Zhaowen, who was laden with ingredients and wine: “What are you doing here?”

“A man and a woman alone in a room—what can they do? Zheng Zeyan is at least a muscular man. I’m here to protect you.”

“He’s probably not a bad person. Besides, what are you afraid of?”

“Just listen to his name, ‘Zheng Zeyan’—sounds like someone with excessive libido.”

“…If you want a free meal, just say so.”

“Am I not allowed to be afraid you’ll fall in love with him?” Jian Zhaowen dropped the line just as someone opened the unit door. He handed the kiwis to Yu Zhimei, held the door open, and slipped inside. Zheng Zeyan might allow only Yu Zhimei upstairs; the best strategy was a surprise attack, catching him off guard.

Who says only women have sixth sense? Men’s crisis warnings are truly accurate.

PS: Little Zhang arrived promptly at 10 AM today~ Zheng Zeyan, as the proper male lead #2, will have more screen time recently. Please add this book to your shelf and vote for recommendations. Today, I’m also waiting for everyone to chat!