Chapter 106: Being a Boss Is Tough Too!

Zhuang Chen was quite pleased with Old Tan; the man was intelligent, knew his limits, rarely nagged without reason, and whenever there was an issue, a single phone call would bring him right over.

“The most famous figure outside is Zhang Xiaolong, the father of WeChat. He never misses his weekly tennis game, loves to listen to ‘Blue Lotus’ late at night, and developed the habit of a heavy smoker among programmers. He speaks little but carries a distinctly artistic temperament.”

“Back in the day, Tencent had five founders. Now three have left, leaving only the ever-reliable Xu Chenye, the good-natured gentleman who stands steadfastly by Pony Ma’s side — an unwavering loyal friend.”

“The biggest earner remains Ren Yuxin, the Chief Operating Officer, who also serves as President of Interactive Entertainment and President of the Mobile Internet Business Group, as well as Chairman of Tencent Pictures. When he stamps his foot, it causes an earthquake in the entertainment and gaming circles — a true powerhouse!”

“I heard his original dream was to be a geek, obsessively devoted to programming, believing that was the entire meaning of life. He applied three times to join the most challenging QQ server team but was ruthlessly rejected by Pony Ma.”

“He firmly believed that Ren was wasted as just a programmer and should take on greater responsibilities. So he was kicked over to gaming, which now accounts for over 50% of total revenue.”

“In recent years, Jonathan’s team has been responsible for investment in American and European companies, investing in dozens of firms including Epic Games, the publisher of the hit game ‘Fortnite,’ and Discord, a developer of player voice chat services.”

“Unfortunately, after regulators imposed new restrictions on the gaming industry, Tencent’s market value evaporated by a quarter last year, possibly serving as the spark that ignited this situation.”

After finishing, Old Tan seemed to recall something and sighed deeply: “Entrepreneurs have it tough. Last year, Mao Kankan lost hope and took his own life at home. We were actually quite close.”

“Looking back ten years ago, Mao Kankan of Majoy, Li Xiang of PaoPao Network, Dai Zhikang of Kangsheng Chuangxiang, and Gao Ran of Mysee—all in their early twenties—had succeeded in entrepreneurship, owned their own companies, appeared on CCTV talk shows, and were hailed as the four idols of the post-80s generation.”

“Kankan was a genius, starting to play on computers in fifth grade and publishing articles in Popular Software at age 14, designing and developing software. He began his entrepreneurial journey in 2004 and became president of Majoy at 21—a meteoric rise.”

“Later, he ventured into mobile medical apps, developed ‘Where’s the Traffic Jam’ providing real-time traffic info, joined GTV in 2013, stepping into the esports scene. In 2015, he founded the joint venture Wanjia Esports and became its CEO—a textbook success story climbing steadily.”

“Who would have thought...” Old Tan pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and added, “Just two days before the tragedy, he posted on WeChat Moments: ‘I love you with no regrets and respect the story’s end.’”

Old Tan sighed again heavily: “I’ve long said Wanjia was a big pitfall—better to die early and be reborn. But that stubborn man didn’t believe it; he poured everything into it, bankrupting himself. And the result...”

Zhuang Chen patted Old Tan’s shoulder silently. Old Tan stubbed out his cigarette and smiled faintly: “Kankan was a good man, a rare good man in this circle. For years, he was always the first to step up and bear burdens for his friends, without ulterior motives or seeking returns.”

“That’s why he bore all the responsibilities belonging to him and even those that didn’t. In the end, he propped it all up himself, selling his house, his car, and finally unable to pay even a few thousand yuan in electricity bills...”

“Before the collapse, for the first time, he asked his brothers for loans, all of which he gave to employees, even handing out bonuses. I thought this time he’d learn a lesson, understand what investors are about, and could make a comeback. But who knew...”

Zhuang Chen read the news about a 44-year-old female executive at Wanda who jumped to her death—a well-known figure in the industry, the General Manager of Jinling Wanda. She dedicated herself tirelessly to the project, working day and night, even on New Year’s Eve staying home for only half an hour. Her hard work paid off—the project grandly opened to much industry praise.

But just four days later, the executive suddenly messaged “Sorry” in a family group chat and then lost contact. The police found her body beneath a construction site near Wanda—a suicide.

No one knew what that project meant to her, enough to drive a strong woman with elderly parents and young children to choose death.

According to media reports, her WeChat profile picture remains the poster of Wanda’s grand opening, and her recent Moments are filled with work updates.

Today, I truly feel heartbroken, but life’s pressures continue; work and struggle must go on...

Old Tan snapped back to reality, sensing the heavy mood, and quickly smiled: “Ah, it’s normal—fortune comes with risk. Who can make money without risk?”

The meeting officially began. The project leader on stage spoke passionately, data and slides flashing everywhere. To prevent Zhuang Chen from getting bored, Old Tan changed the subject:

“Though they’re called the three giants, Baidu hasn’t developed well these years, almost kicked out of the BAT lineup.”

“Only Alibaba and Tencent remain battling it out. The richest spot keeps flipping between the two Ma’s—Pony Ma and Jack Ma. After years of competition, Alibaba and Tencent remain neck and neck.”

“Robin Li took a different path, betting on AI. He shifted all focus from search engines to mobile apps, integrating data analysis into autonomous driving and other smart fields. Though Baidu’s market value has been surpassed by Alibaba and Tencent, even Pony Ma admits Baidu leads in AI domestically.”

“Jack Ma has always played the B2B game. In recent years, he’s surged forward aggressively. Alibaba Cloud started in 2009, serving giants like Sinopec, PetroChina, China Unicom, Weibo, Zhihu, and Smartisan Technology.”

“In 2017, they established the Damo Academy, investing over 100 billion yuan in R&D. Recently, a quietly developed new retail project was exposed, becoming Alibaba Zoo’s fourth member after Tmall, Cainiao, and Ant Financial—a truly terrifying ecosystem.”

“Pony Ma is different. He focuses on what he knows best—social networking, fighting desperately to keep gaming dominant. All investments rely on WeChat’s traffic support; if it works, they list it; if not, they cut losses and reinvest elsewhere.”

With envy and admiration, Old Tan said: “Social networking is the biggest prize. Once you build a stable relationship network, you create user stickiness. Take Douyin and Toutiao—they crushed everyone in just two years because their user engagement is addictive, irresistible.”

Zhuang Chen nodded in agreement; he had recently studied many investment books and was slowly grasping the principles. Ultimately, it comes down to consumer positioning: Taobao and Tmall are for shopping; Alipay is a highly secure payment tool. People’s perceptions are fixed, and social networks are hard to establish.

A slow step leads to slow progress at every turn.

Old Tan looked at the passionate entrepreneur on stage and chuckled: “Jack Ma buys up promising things—acquisitions, controlling stakes—integrating them into Alibaba’s own ecosystem. Pony Ma likes to take minority stakes and become the largest shareholder but doesn’t interfere much with operations.”

“He lets them roam free—after all, he has the money to play. For gaming-related projects, he just creates a similar one, ties QQ and WeChat together, and instantly crushes competitors!”

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