For the subsequent period, the merger between Kunpeng and Huawei fell into a complete deadlock. Neither Panhai, as Kunpeng’s investor, nor Qinghui, as Huawei’s investor, was willing to yield on the critical question of who would assume the role of CEO.

Zhao Hanqing made several trips to Shanghai. Kunpeng was based in Beijing, while Huawei was in Shenzhen. To demonstrate mutual sincerity, both parties had agreed to set the negotiation venue in a neutral third-party city. Furthermore, to ensure absolute confidentiality, they avoided the conference rooms of any corporate institutions or hotels, opting instead to rent a small residential apartment.

During a routine meeting on a particular day, Jing Hong brought up the progress of the merger with Zhao Hanqing once again.

“It’s an incredibly tough negotiation,” Zhao Hanqing spoke candidly. “The talks have hit a total standstill.”

After a moment of reflection, Zhao Hanqing proposed a new approach: “What if we consider co-CEOs? Post-merger, the former CEO of Kunpeng and the former CEO of Huawei would hold equal rank, both serving as co-CEOs. Each would oversee specific business segments, ensuring that neither side exerts dominance over the other.”

Jing Hong, however, dismissed the idea immediately: “No. I don’t favor that structural model.”

“Or perhaps…” Zhao Hanqing murmured thoughtfully, “we could propose the co-CEO arrangement as an initial gambit. Once Qinghui accepts it, we can then stipulate that despite the co-CEO titles, core executives like the CFO will report directly to Kunpeng’s CEO. This way, while it remains a co-CEO structure in name, Kunpeng’s CEO retains the actual operational authority, making it easier to fully transition control down the line.”

“Don’t bother bringing it up.” Jing Hong leaned back against his chair. “Zhou Chang will never agree to it.”

Negotiation strategies typically fall into two categories. One is “waterboarding”—relentlessly repeating the same position until the opposing party is completely overwhelmed and sinks beneath the surface. The other involves extracting concessions incrementally—introducing fresh demands each time a deal appears on the verge of closing, ensuring that while each individual concession is minor, they accumulate into a massive advantage.

“Your plan requires the opposing party to compromise multiple times.” Jing Hong recalled Zhou Chang’s vulture-like gaze and had no desire to even attempt it. “Against Zhou Chang? It’s out of the question.”

Zhao Hanqing speculated, “Then—”

“If it can’t be merged, then so be it,” Jing Hong remarked. “The company isn’t exactly short on cash.”

Zhao Hanqing nodded. “Agreed. At this stage, that’s our only viable course of action.”

“Wait a minute.” Just as they were wrapping up, Jing Hong suddenly questioned Zhao Hanqing, “You mentioned earlier that Huawei’s current CEO doesn’t seem to fully trust Qinghui?”

“Yes, I get that impression,” Zhao Hanqing replied. “Though relations aren’t exactly frosty; it seems more driven by her personal temperament. The CEO is female, and it’s quite evident that she possesses an exceptionally strong, assertive personality.”

Jing Hong lowered his gaze, his right fingers rhythmically tapping against the executive desk. He then raised his eyes, locking them onto his colleague, and directed: “In that case, let’s try a different angle. First, notify Managing Director Shen at Goldman Sachs. Inform him that Panhai and Qinghui are unable to reach a consensus on the crucial matter of the new company’s CEO, and Panhai has no intention of wasting further time. State clearly that if the CEO issue cannot be resolved, Panhai will withdraw from any subsequent merger negotiations.”

Recognizing that Jing Hong was not yet finished, Zhao Hanqing listened intently in silence.

“Following that,” Jing Hong continued, “instruct Kunpeng to immediately prepare the pitch book for their next financing round. Inform all inquiring venture capitalists (VCs) that Panhai will remain the lead investor for Kunpeng’s upcoming round, leaving other firms to participate solely as co-investors. Simultaneously—” Jing Hong paused briefly, “reach out to a few VCs and private equity (PE) firms to inquire about Huawei’s financing plans. At the same time, drop a subtle hint to Huawei’s CEO: if Qinghui leads their next funding round, she risks losing operational control over her company. Of course, I’m confident she’s already aware of this risk, but a timely reminder won’t hurt.”

Zhao Hanqing recalled the details: “That is indeed the case. After leading two consecutive rounds, Qinghui has already acquired 40% of Huawei’s shares. Currently, Huawei’s equity structure stands with the founder—the CEO herself—holding 55%, Qinghui holding 40%, and another VC firm holding the remaining 5%—”

“Exactly,” Jing Hong completed the thought for him. “Therefore, if Qinghui leads the next round, their equity stake will surpass the founder’s, causing the original founder to lose control of the company.”

Jing Hong computed the financial math rapidly. Qinghui Group accumulated additional shares with each investment round, currently totaling 40% after two rounds. Assuming Huawei offered another 25% of its equity for the next financing round, and Qinghui took 20% of that as the lead investor, Qinghui’s total stake would surge to 50% post-round, while the founder’s share would be diluted to 41.25%. Qinghui would effectively overtake the founder.

While the exact figures might vary slightly, the ultimate outcome remained identical.

Zhao Hanqing fully grasped the strategy but sought to confirm Jing Hong’s intent, nodding in agreement: “Understood. If we look at the numbers, following the collapse of this merger, both Kunpeng and Huawei will likely run low on cash reserves and must initiate their next funding rounds. We can leverage the fact that Huawei’s current CEO doesn’t entirely trust Qinghui to prompt Huawei to reject Qinghui as the lead investor for their next round.”

For Huawei’s founder, allowing Qinghui’s equity stake to eclipse her own represented an existential threat.

“Precisely.” Acknowledging that Zhao Hanqing understood, Jing Hong chose to elaborate to ensure flawless execution. “In this scenario, Zhou Chang will realize that while Panhai continues to lead Kunpeng’s funding and expand our equity stake, Qinghui is blocked from leading Huawei’s next round due to the CEO’s mistrust. Consequently, round after round, Qinghui’s equity will face continuous dilution. Furthermore, as Huawei’s capital expenditures mount, very few VCs or PEs will be willing to inject funds into a venture with unclear profitability timelines and staggering burn rates in the current economic climate—save for entities backed by parent giants like Panhai and Qinghui. Huawei will eventually hit a wall where financing becomes impossible. By then, if Qinghui wishes to revisit the merger, they won’t enjoy the favorable terms available to them now. Currently, aside from the CEO position, everything else is negotiable. But in the future? Hah.”

Panhai and Qinghui operated as strategic investors playing the long game, whereas VCs and PEs functioned as financial investors focused on short-term returns—a fundamental distinction.

At present, Panhai held 40% of Kunpeng, while Qinghui held 40% of Huawei, with both target companies commanding comparable valuations. Consequently, Panhai and Qinghui wielded nearly identical leverage in the merger negotiations. However, following the next financing round, Panhai’s equity stake in Kunpeng would rise while Qinghui’s stake in Huawei would diminish, stripping the two sides of their equal footing at the bargaining table.

Ultimately, the individual founders posed no significant threat. The true battleground of this merger lay in the confrontation between Panhai and Qinghui, running parallel to their historic rivalries.

“Therefore,” Zhao Hanqing added, “Zhou Chang will likely want to expedite the merger before Kunpeng and Huawei finalize their next financing rounds.”

Jing Hong nodded in affirmation.

“However,” Zhao Hanqing inquired, “will Kunpeng truly permit Panhai to lead the next round? Will they really allow us to step in and become their largest shareholder?”

Jing Hong raised an eyebrow: “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Zhao Hanqing understood immediately.

Meaning, Kunpeng itself might not necessarily allow Panhai to take full control either…

“Let’s bluff Zhou Chang first and see how he reacts,” Jing Hong noted. “We can get Kunpeng’s CEO to cooperate and float a false rumor stating that Panhai will lead the next round. It shouldn’t be an issue. He can claim that equity fragmentation poses a major threat, and since Panhai has consistently proven to be a reliable partner—assisting with insurance and securing licenses—they weighed the pros and cons and chose to trust Panhai Group. He just needs to play the part of a slightly naive tech-geek. Even if Zhou Chang harbors suspicions, he won’t be certain, and I doubt he’ll be willing to gamble.”

Zhao Hanqing nodded. “Understood. Let’s see if Zhou Chang, facing a rejection from Huawei to lead their next round, decides to reopen negotiations in the near future, concede the CEO position to us, and push the merger through before financing to secure other terms.”

A faint chuckle escaped Jing Hong’s throat: “Exactly.”

Consequently, the merger transaction was shelved.

The merger negotiations were declared broken, prompting Kunpeng and Huawei to resume their aggressive competition, continuously burning through capital.

Shortly thereafter, Kunpeng took the initiative to leak word of its upcoming financing round. Several prominent VCs and PEs made inquiries, and before long, the entire industry became aware: Panhai would remain the lead investor for the next round.

Kunpeng’s CEO repeatedly emphasized his unwavering trust in Panhai, specifically praising President Jing and Vice President Zhao. He highlighted that Jing and Zhao respected Kunpeng, never interfered in its operations, and consistently viewed Kunpeng’s founding team as the company’s most valuable asset. He noted that over the four years since Kunpeng’s inception, both parties had advanced and retreated in unison, forging an exceptional cooperative relationship. Consequently, rather than allowing equity to fragment among unfamiliar institutions or fall into the hands of unknown investment firms, he preferred Panhai at the helm. He laid out the math for various institutions: if they rejected Panhai as the lead investor, the investment firms’ combined equity would match his and Panhai’s stake within two rounds. Should those firms align, the situation would become entirely unmanageable. Furthermore, it was common knowledge that financial institutions focused on short-term gains, whereas Panhai prioritized long-term development.

Almost simultaneously, news emerged from Huawei indicating that they were also preparing for a financing round. Crucially, they had rejected Qinghui Group’s intent to continue as the lead investor and were actively scouting for new VCs and PEs. Currently, they were engaged in highly productive discussions with two or three state-backed private equity funds.

Evidently, Huawei’s CEO had no desire to allow Qinghui to take over her company.

Company law mandated that publicly traded enterprises must maintain equal rights for equal shares. If Huawei sought to go public in the future, the issue of corporate control would inevitably reach a boiling point.

Everything was unfolding precisely according to the script.

Jing Hong waited for Zhou Chang to make the first move.

Putting himself in Zhou Chang’s shoes, Jing Hong remained convinced that even if Zhou Chang suspected the entire scenario was a setup, he would likely refuse to gamble. Individuals of Zhou Chang’s caliber enjoyed taking calculated risks, but they preferred absolute control over everything; unless backed into a corner, they would never choose to blind-gamble.

It was merely a single CEO position… From Jing Hong’s perspective, Qinghui—now barred from leading the next round—had no viable alternative other than conceding the CEO role to facilitate the merger. Otherwise, Qinghui would face a continuous dilution of its equity stake.

Yet, Zhou Chang remained remarkably composed.

Even as Kunpeng and Huawei’s Series C financing captured widespread industry attention, Zhou Chang made no moves whatsoever.

Jing Hong found the silence somewhat perplexing.

While the merger case remained deadlocked, another development involving Qinghui Group captured public attention first.

Zhou Chang dispatched formal letters to the SEC (U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission) and Yueguan, terminating the acquisition agreement.

The public was sent into an absolute frenzy, yet Jing Hong remained entirely unsurprised.

Months prior, the owner of Yueguan had once again insulted Zhou Chang, calling him an intellectually disabled child. Yet Zhou Chang, defying all expectations, responded by launching a full-cash acquisition bid for Yueguan at an incredibly attractive valuation, effectively offering to hand the owner a fortune. At that moment, Jing Hong knew Zhou Chang was up to no good.

By terminating the acquisition agreement, Zhou Chang had completely played Yueguan. The furious owner reacted by publishing a sequence of twelve lengthy tirades on his own social network that very evening, blasting Zhou Chang.

Zhou Chang, however, offered a brief, nonchalant response:

“Qinghui uncovered significant operational issues during the due diligence① process, making the termination of the acquisition entirely reasonable and lawful.”

Qinghui’s initial tender offer had been conditional, legally subject to the outcomes of further due diligence.

That single statement—”Qinghui uncovered significant operational issues during the due diligence process”—caused Yueguan’s stock price on the New York Stock Exchange to plunge for two consecutive days, erasing 19% of its value.

By the third day, due to the issues exposed by Qinghui’s due diligence, the SEC announced a formal investigation into Yueguan. The company’s stock plummeted once more, culminating in a staggering 38.44% loss over a five-day period.

Jing Hong finally pieced the strategy together.

Zhou Chang’s sole objective had been to dismantle Yueguan.

By feigning an acquisition, he gained total access to scrutinize Yueguan’s internal metrics via due diligence, subsequently exposing their vulnerabilities to the public. Jing Hong suspected that Zhou Chang had likely been aware of these irregularities beforehand, using the “due diligence” process merely as a pretext.

This was entirely plausible, as corporate leaks were common.

The SEC’s public notice stated they would conduct a comprehensive review of Yueguan’s “data compliance.” Jing Hong surmised that Yueguan’s user data acquisition protocols likely breached Chinese regulations. Because these metrics tied directly to revenue generation, the company had likely failed to meet its compliance obligations as a Critical Information Infrastructure Operator (CIIO)②.

It could have been worse, Jing Hong thought. Had they uncovered fraudulent advertising contracts, Yueguan might have faced immediate delisting. Certain companies favored that tactic—inflating figures to create the illusion of a massive advertiser base when the contracts were entirely fabricated.

During a family dinner at Jing Hong’s parents’ residence, Jing Haiping naturally brought up Zhou Chang’s latest exploit.

“He completely played them!” Jing Haiping voiced his strong disapproval of Zhou Chang’s tactics. “He strung them along for months, and in the end, the company wasn’t sold, and their market value plummeted by nearly 40%!”

Jing Hong’s cousin—his uncle’s daughter, who happened to be visiting—opened her eyes wide and asked, “Is this what they call a perfectly calculated ‘Tian Liang Wang Po’ execution?”

Jiang Mei inquired, “What does ‘Tian Liang Wang Po’ mean?”

The cousin explained immediately: “It’s a phrase used to describe an overbearing corporate tycoon in novels. There’s a famous web novel where the very first sentence reads, ‘The weather is getting chilly; let the Wang Corporation go bankrupt.’ Since then, everyone uses ‘Tian Liang Wang Po’ (The weather is getting cold, let Wang’s group go bankrupt) to describe those dominant CEOs!” Pausing for a few seconds as if making a sudden discovery, she added, “Oh my goodness, the CEO of Yueguan is also named Wang!”

Jing Hong chuckled: “Yueguan going bankrupt? That’s unlikely.”

However, they had certainly been utterly humiliated.

Still, Jing Hong felt a strong urge to tell Yueguan’s CEO: Given your limited capabilities, why on earth did you provoke Zhou Chang? You insulted him daily, clinging to him like gum on the bottom of a shoe; it would be strange if he didn’t ruin you.

Whoever caused Zhou Chang discomfort would undoubtedly receive tenfold discomfort in return.

Across the table, the cousin spoke up again: “Right now, Yueguan’s own social network is flooded with discussions about this. Their owner is absolutely livid. And an interview featuring Zhou Chang just hit the number one spot on the trending search results.”

“Oh?” Jing Hong rarely paid attention to such content, responding casually, “What interview?”

The cousin retrieved her smartphone, unlocked the screen to check the details, and let out a laugh. “This one right here. The reporter asked how he viewed the fact that Yueguan’s market value had evaporated by nearly 40%. Zhou Chang replied, ‘The 70 million intellectually disabled children facing discrimination worldwide, along with the 5 million facing discrimination in China, will be absolutely thrilled.’“

Jing Hong: “…………..”

He thought to himself: What an absolute menace.

_

Author’s Notes:

The first half of the chapter should be relatively straightforward. Jing Hong floated a false rumor indicating that Panhai would continue investing in Kunpeng to expand its equity stake, while Qinghui was blocked from investing in Huawei due to objections from Huawei’s founder. Consequently, in any future merger discussions, Panhai and Qinghui would hold unequal equity stakes and asymmetrical bargaining power in the newly formed corporate entity. This led Jing Hong to believe that Zhou Chang would want to expedite the merger.

• ① Due Diligence (DD): A comprehensive investigation of a business’s financial, operational, and legal standing conducted by a prospective investor after reaching a preliminary cooperation agreement.
• ② CIIO: Critical Information Infrastructure Operator, which carries a stringent set of regulatory compliance obligations.
• Note: The opening background of this novel is set in the year 2017. Following 2019, the Science and Technology Innovation Boards in Shanghai and Shenzhen began piloting dual-class equity structures (allowing differential voting rights) for tech enterprises. However, the main board still mandates equal rights for equal shares (where each share carries exactly one vote).
• Tian Liang Wang Po: A viral internet meme originating from a web novel on the Jinjiang literature forum around 2005. The iconic opening line, “The weather is turning cold; let the Wang Corporation go bankrupt,” became a cultural phenomenon used to satirize or describe archetype billionaire characters.