Chapter 107: The Switch

The burning passion in his heart did not cause Wang Xunfei to show any surprise in front of Jiang Xiwen. He knew that his current shock could easily be mistaken for agreement with Jiang Xiwen’s viewpoint. This would only make it harder for him to buy the software code, so he gradually let his expression shift from shock to calm, then spoke evenly, without hurry or pressure.

“I don’t think this will succeed. Although it’s possible, the chances are minuscule. To wait until people’s mindsets change as you say would take who knows how many years, not to mention the amount of capital you’d have to invest. Taking risks in business is right, but you must consider the likelihood of failure. Xiwen, to be honest, in the short time I’ve known you—just half a day—I already feel your talent among middle schoolers is nearly genius. But this idea is still too naive.

However, you can keep developing this software. As operating systems continue to improve, you can wait for the right moment. Of course, if you lack funds to start a game company, I can find a way to get a loan to buy this small software from you. The money you get can support your and Qi Pangzi’s future game development.”

Jiang Xiwen smiled faintly. Wang Xunfei, oh Wang Xunfei, truly has a keen business eye. What’s needed is precisely this kind of vision and ability. It will help me manage QQ in the future. I just rely on the advantage of being reborn with foresight; as I grow bigger in the business world, with your help, I’ll surely avoid many mistakes.

Thinking this, Jiang Xiwen said aloud, “That’s true, Xunfei. To make money from this thing requires too much investment, and it would definitely delay my game development. How much can you offer to buy this software? How about 500,000 yuan? Not a cent less. Of course, it’s not just the software itself but all the future plans attached to it.”

Hearing the price of 500,000, Wang Xunfei thought Jiang Xiwen was dreaming, but he showed no reaction. He wanted to see exactly what future plans this kid was talking about.

Jiang Xiwen opened a document on Qi Huanchang’s computer which listed detailed projects within QQ software that could generate revenue over the next three years. However, it contained only titles with brief one-sentence descriptions, none fully elaborated. Each title was followed by an estimate of the annual income increase the project could generate.

Jiang Xiwen was asking for an exorbitant sum. Earlier, through Qi Huanchang, he had learned that Wang Xunfei’s savings from working in Nanshen were at most 100,000 yuan. To buy it, he would have to borrow money, which would certainly play into Jiang Xiwen’s design.

Jiang Xiwen was betting that Wang Xunfei would buy the software. Paying 500,000 yuan for such a small thing sounds crazy, but Jiang Xiwen believed Wang Xunfei would do it. He had the vision, especially now, as Wang Xunfei browsed the future plans he wrote, his eyes filled with a near-delusional gleam. That look told Jiang Xiwen that Wang Xunfei highly agreed with the software and its future plan—to a degree that was almost incomprehensible trust.

Of course, Wang Xunfei’s judgment was correct. Jiang Xiwen knew that if he hadn’t been reborn, he wouldn’t have believed such a plan either when shown to him by anyone else. But Wang Xunfei was no ordinary person. Yet Wang Xunfei still made a small mistake: Jiang Xiwen’s plan advanced every peripheral project of QQ by three years, causing Wang Xunfei to misjudge the internet’s pace. He believed that within three or four years at most, instant messaging software could become profitable. With his two years of networking in Nanshen, managing various software projects, this was theoretically supportable.

“This is just a rough outline. I have a more detailed plan; of course, if you buy it, I’ll adjust it yearly based on actual conditions.” Jiang Xiwen’s tone was casual, as if chatting idly, but the words spoke of a business proposition that sounded quite grandiose.

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“Five hundred thousand, Xiwen, you really are exaggerating,” Wang Xunfei said calmly, trying to suppress his inner excitement after reading the plan.

Jiang Xiwen’s tone remained casual: “I think 500,000 isn’t just for this little software, but for this whole development plan. Xunfei, honestly, I spent as much time on the summary as on the complete plan. It’s meant to attract investors, so I extracted the most exciting parts but left it hanging, like a novel with cliffhangers at the end of each chapter.

If you think this cliffhanger is worth 500,000, then buy it. If not, that’s fine. Originally, I didn’t intend to sell; it was just to show investors. If they invest, I’ll operate it myself.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it. Five hundred thousand isn’t a small amount.”

“No problem. For now, I can’t find investors anyway. I’m still a kid; to get them to trust me, Qi Pangzi has to step in.” Jiang Xiwen nodded and smiled. “Xunfei, the ‘Ethereal Legend’ in here is my writing. Has Qi Pangzi told you about it? Anyway, it’s nothing important. Just take a look while I go back to gaming.”

Wang Xunfei felt somewhat frustrated. Honestly, he thought the software was worth 500,000. The key was how much capital was available to support the period before profitability. According to Jiang Xiwen’s plan, four years at most would suffice. But reality is unpredictable—who knows when the internet will truly take off? So he had to weigh his options carefully.

Seeing Jiang Xiwen turn his attention back to the game, Wang Xunfei decided to let it go and began reading “Ethereal Legend.”

This kid’s negotiation skills exceeded his expectations. He realized that recruiting Jiang Xiwen into his company was unlikely now. He could only try to build rapport through Qi Huanchang or wait until Jiang Xiwen’s game company faltered and then try to recruit him.

Wang Xunfei firmly believed that in the current market environment, 500,000 yuan is hard to sustain for a game company.

The book was quite interesting. Wang Xunfei, avoiding troubling thoughts, quickly became absorbed in the content of “Ethereal Legend.” He couldn’t recall which author once said that if a novel fails to captivate within five minutes of reading from any point, it’s a failed work. Clearly, Jiang Xiwen’s novel was a success.

The more he read, the more convinced Wang Xunfei was that Jiang Xiwen was a genius. Yet he still believed that geniuses must be used, much like Zhuge Liang was employed by Liu Bei.

In the following days, Wang Xunfei visited several scenic spots in Yangjiang with Qi Huanchang. Each evening upon returning to their accommodation, he would open his computer and read “Ethereal Legend.”

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Being drawn into the book was one thing; competing with Jiang Xiwen for patience in reading was another. Every day after school, Jiang Xiwen would come and stay for a while. Wang Xunfei never mentioned buying the software, hoping Jiang Xiwen would lose patience and lower the price, the lower the better.

Of course, Jiang Xiwen didn’t bring up the software sale either. Both tacitly agreed not to tell Qi Huanchang about it.

After a whole week, Wang Xunfei failed to persuade Qi Huanchang to join and planned to return to Nanshen first. This trip to Yangjiang was basically a loss to a middle schooler, but he still hoped to gather 500,000 yuan, wait a while, then negotiate the price down and buy the software.

On the night before departure, Qi Huanchang and Jiang Xiwen saw Wang Xunfei off. After dinner, back in his dorm, Wang Xunfei habitually opened “Ethereal Legend” again.

“Xunfei, I have many unpublished drafts. If you like, have Qi Pangzi copy some for you. You can take them back to Nanshen and read at your leisure,” Jiang Xiwen said.

“Okay, thanks.” Wang Xunfei nodded, eyes never leaving the screen, smiling bitterly in his heart. It seemed his only gain this time was the latest manuscripts of this kid’s writing.

That night, Jiang Xiwen played games much later than usual. After Wang Xunfei and Qi Pangzi had fallen asleep, he quietly took out a disk identical in appearance to the one containing the “Ethereal Legend” manuscripts and swapped it with the disk in Wang Xunfei’s bag. Then, silently, he left the office.

Back in Yangjiang, Jiang Xiwen never contacted Su Lai again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but he forgot to ask for Su Lai’s number. With Wang Xunfei’s matters occupying his mind, he temporarily put other things aside.

The day after Wang Xunfei left, Jiang Xiwen was summoned to the principal’s office by Li Changtian, the principal of Yangjiang No. 2 Middle School. He didn’t know or worry about what it was. As usual, he swaggered in and sat confidently before the principal.

“Xiwen, there’s something I want to ask you,” Li Changtian hesitated slightly before speaking. “Of course, I’m not blaming you, just asking about the situation.”

The longstanding friendship between the Zhang and Jiang families had become an open secret, and the principal was very polite when speaking to him.

“What is it, Principal Li? I’m your student, so there’s no need to be so formal. Look at me—I’m not formal either,” Jiang Xiwen replied with a nonchalant expression.