On the arena of the entrepreneurship competition, sitting alongside Zhou Chang on the panel of judges, Jing Hong suddenly recalled the very first day he met Zhou Chang.

It had been under a similar setting.

Jing Hong had never really mingled with the “second-generation entrepreneurs” in their circle. First, Fanhai Group had always been an internet giant, operating on a completely different tier from other companies; even if he engaged in zero socializing, others would still treat him with utmost respect and a touch of fear. Second, the CEOs of tech companies were mostly from STEM backgrounds and weren’t particularly fond of nightlife and extravagance, and influenced by their families, their children mostly kept a low profile as well. Third, Jing Hong himself disliked smoking, drinking, drag racing, and chasing girls—he found those primitive levels of pleasure utterly tedious.

He only liked to win.

From the best primary school in all of Beijing, to the best middle school in all of China—and in an experimental class that recruited nationwide, no less—to the best university in the world.

But having won so much, he actually felt a bit numb to it.

Meeting Zhou Chang happened during a business competition across American universities.

Jing Hong’s major was Computer Science, but after graduating, he pursued a joint MBA/CS degree at Stanford—a dual-degree program offered by quite a few universities. Top-tier MBAs usually required at least two years of work experience, so Jing Hong had applied for both the joint program and a standalone CS degree at the time, reasoning that if he could pursue the MBA alongside CS, he would; if not, he wouldn’t bother.

However, because Jing Hong’s father was Jing Haiping, and Jing Hong himself was the successor to the IT giant Fanhai Group, top global business schools placed paramount importance on alumni network resources. The fact that “the heir to Fanhai Group is an alumnus of GSB” was undeniably vital to building their alumni network. At the same time, Jing Hong’s school credentials, class rank, internship experience, awards, and letters of recommendation were all second to none, fully proving his brilliance, so he was accepted. Three years later, Jing Hong converted his MS in CS into a PhD—though that was a story for later.

In short, because he was simultaneously pursuing an MBA, Jing Hong participated in that nationwide US university business competition.

Due to his consistent performance in class, Jing Hong served as the team leader, even though he was a foreigner and English was not his native language.

In the semifinals, the Stanford team led by Jing Hong clashed with their school’s “arch-rival”—another prestigious university in the Bay Area, UC Berkeley (University of California, Berkeley).

Berkeley’s business school was also ranked among the top in the US, but it still had a certain gap compared to top-ranked Stanford and Harvard. UC Berkeley’s strongest majors were physics, chemistry, computer science, electrical engineering, sociology, history, and so forth.

When the opposing team took the stage, Jing Hong was immensely surprised to find that the opposing team’s leader was actually Chinese as well! The other party had an East Asian face, and Jing Hong—having lived in the United States for several years—could tell at a single glance whether a face belonged to an ABC (American-Born Chinese), a Japanese person, a Korean person, or a fellow compatriot.

The opposing leader was clearly a compatriot. Furthermore, he was tall and built, exuding an imposing aura, with eyes as clear and deep as a dark pool.

The competition emphasized the execution process, and the task for the semifinals was “Sell Cupcakes.”

Each team would be allocated several hours of sales time, and the final metric was profit.

The competition committee provided two plans for the two teams to choose from. Option A was high-end cupcakes, sold in a high-end shopping mall. The organizing committee provided better bakers and higher-quality ingredients; the final selling price could be set at $4 with a cost of $2, meaning they were more exquisite. Option B was low-end cupcakes, sold in a low-end mall. The committee provided average bakers and standard tools; the final selling price could only be set at $2 with a cost of $1.

Because the preparation time for “high-end cupcakes” was longer, the team selling in the high-end mall only had two hours of sales time. The preparation time for “low-end cupcakes” was relatively shorter, granting that team four full hours of sales time in the low-end mall.

It was very fair. The profit for “high-end cupcakes” was $2 per piece, while the profit for “low-end cupcakes” was $1 per piece. Thus, the committee had doubled the sales time for the “low-end cupcakes.”

The organizing committee was meticulous. After multiple trials, the customer foot traffic at both malls was almost identical—one was on a trendy high street, the other in a welfare community—and both the “high-end cupcakes” to high-end mall shoppers and “low-end cupcakes” to low-end mall shoppers completely matched their routine spending levels.

Once the competition began, both teams had to choose their desired plan. If both sides chose the same plan, it meant they were competing for that excellent baker; in that case, they would enter a bidding war—the side willing to pay the baker a higher wage would ultimately win, while the other side would take the fallback plan.

During the first round of team meetings, the other members of Jing Hong’s team started chattering excitedly: “High-end is probably better, right? High-end cupcakes can have more varieties and be more attractive, while low-end… are just standard styles, no appeal.” “Right… and besides…” “There’s also…”

Someone else chimed in: “But ‘discounts’ themselves are appealing to low-end customers.”

The previous person countered: “Who doesn’t want a discount?”

After listening for a bit, Jing Hong finally spoke up: “The high-end plan is clearly better. Besides the points mentioned, another factor is that high-end cupcakes only require two hours of selling, whereas low-end cupcakes require four hours. Standing and selling for two hours is manageable, but standing and selling for four hours is almost impossible—the team choosing that plan must arrange shift rotations. Meaning, due to mandatory rest times, our active head count at any given point will be lower than the opponent’s, which poses a challenge to execution.” Even military guard shifts were only two hours long.

Several teammates realized his point, amazed by Jing Hong’s attention to detail: “True,” “Right,” “Forgot about that.”

The team had six members in total. Assuming every person took a ten-minute break each hour, that meant at any given moment, that team would only have five active members, while the other side had six.

Yet just two or three seconds later, Jing Hong declared: “However, we are choosing the low-end plan.”

All the teammates around Jing Hong: “…Huh???” They thought: What kind of plot twist is this?

Jing Hong continued: “Because the high-end plan is clearly better, I expect Berkeley will also choose it. We can exploit this: in the first round, we select the ‘high-end plan’ to drag Berkeley into a bidding war, forcing them to raise their offer, and then… in the second round, we hold our original price and let Berkeley overbid themselves. That way, right at the start, Berkeley pays higher costs while we focus on raw execution—Berkeley’s team enters the competition carrying a financial burden.”

Several teammates had an epiphany: “So that’s the plan!”

“Right,” Jing Hong added with an instruction, “When the time comes, everyone put on a show. Act completely determined to win the high-end plan, as if we’re ready to bid aggressively, so Berkeley goes all-in. The higher they bid, the better. In short, our strategy is ‘price-jacking.'”

Everyone laughed: “Understood.”

To Jing Hong’s surprise, during the second round of bidding, both teams coincidentally chose to hold their original prices!

Their strategies had collided!

And in the third round, both still held their original prices—unwilling to spend an extra cent.

Because their strategies matched, the business competition committee used a special lot-drawing method to assign the sales locations. In the end, UC Berkeley drew the high-end plan, while Jing Hong’s team got the low-end plan—neither side had raised their bid.

Another rule of this competition was that a single customer could buy a maximum of five cupcakes at a time.

During their second team meeting, the rest of Jing Hong’s team brought up ideas again all at once: “With a five-cupcake limit per person, we could offer tiered discounts—like 5% off for one, 10% off for two, 15% off for three, 20% off for four, and 25% off for five to encourage them to buy as many as possible.” “We could also…”

“No,” Jing Hong directly vetoed all these promotional strategies. He said, “These strategies are great, but the competition has a fixed timeframe. Don’t forget, we have fewer active people on the floor, so execution pressure is very high. Furthermore, we are targeting low-end customers; convincing them to buy beyond their usual volume in one go is extremely difficult.”

“Then…?”

Jing Hong looked at the various sample cupcakes on the table and said, “How about this? Christmas is right around the corner, so we will only sell a five-piece Christmas Cupcake Set. No customer will be allowed to customize quantities or styles—otherwise, it’ll be too chaotic. We must save time and make fast sales.” Saying this, Jing Hong pulled out a sheet of paper: “The design for the five-piece set… I’ve already drawn it here. They are relatively simple—our current baker can easily make them, yet they look very appealing. The first is a Christmas tree with spiraled green cream sprinkled with white powdered icing; the second is a blue cake topped with a snowflake decoration; the third is a Santa hat made of spiraled red cream with a ring of white cream flowers simulating a pom-pom; the fourth is… This way, selling a ‘set of five’ feels completely natural. Under the Christmas theme, they form a complete set that can’t be split, so even low-end customers won’t feel like buying five at once is excessive. Besides, I believe that even in a welfare community, customers have a special feeling toward ‘Christmas.’ After all, Christmas only comes once a year, so they won’t be overly stingy because they want to bring a warm Christmas home to their families. Seeing the cakes, they’ll likely be tempted.”

Furthermore, Jing Hong added: “The discount will be set at 10%. Research shows that discounts exceeding 10% increase consumer distrust, making them less effective than a straight 10%. This is food—we shouldn’t make it look like we’re trying to clear out expiring inventory.”

The other team members marveled at his foresight once more.

Additionally, Jing Hong hadn’t forgotten about the “internet” factor. He spoke directly with the shopping mall manager, persuading him to include their cupcake event in the promotional emails and app push notifications sent to customers that day, broadcasting it straight to tens of thousands of registered members.

Jing Hong reasoned that the vast majority of shoppers in a welfare community lived nearby and would likely be interested in discounted “Christmas Sets,” whereas shoppers on the high-fashion street were scattered all across the city.

Before the sales began, Jing Hong was remarkably thorough and meticulous.

He thought of everything: “Mike, go to the bank to get change—as much as possible; some people might use cash.” “Misha, you set up the POS machine and alternative payment methods.” “Kate, you’re in charge of event posters and directional signs, showcasing our promotion across various spots in the mall.” “Yao, you handle the product display stands.” “Chelsea, you handle tables, chairs, and inventory stacking.” “Finally, I’ll go print the discount coupons to hand out at the main entrance.”

Jing Hong didn’t micromanage fine details or interfere with group leaders; he simply inspected and signed off on each team’s completed tasks.

Even so, at 5:00 PM, the scene was still somewhat chaotic.

That was the nature of holding events—unexpected situations always popped up.

Yet Jing Hong remained composed, keeping everyone steady while focusing on his own duties. Someone guided and explained, someone retrieved stock, someone processed payments and gave change, someone handed out coupons at the main entrance, someone pitched cupcakes to people queuing near the elevators…

At one point in the middle, a Black teammate got into a dispute with Jing Hong.

Standing two meters tall with a shaved head, he looked down at Jing Hong, his voice booming in rapid English: “NO!!! We should…”

Jing Hong was exhausted at the time, but he didn’t back down a single inch nor lose an ounce of authority. Raising his voice even louder—to the point of straining his vocal cords—he shouted, “That issue doesn’t matter! Do you understand? It doesn’t matter! Now go do what you’re supposed to do!!!”

In the end, the guy listened to Jing Hong.

And Jing Hong’s shift rotation strategy proved immensely successful—breaks and handovers went off without a hitch.

Jing Hong remembered that the final outcome of that competition was extraordinarily dramatic.

They won, and the reason UC Berkeley was eliminated was actually because they had accepted a fake $20 bill.

It wasn’t a test of management; it was a test of counterfeit detection.

When the committee announced the results, his teammates cheered, high-fived, and celebrated exuberantly.

The other Chinese member on Jing Hong’s team was a full-time MBA student named Yao, who previously worked in consulting. He quietly leaned toward Jing Hong, covered his mouth, and whispered, “Word has it that Zhou Chang guy is Zhou Buqun’s son.”

Jing Hong was naturally taken aback: “…Ah? Are you sure?”

“Should be correct.” Since Jing Hong hadn’t disclosed his own identity at school, the other guy didn’t know Jing Hong’s background either, adding, “He used to hang out in the second-gen heir circles a lot, but later stopped going and suddenly straightened up. A big shot in my WeChat Moments knew him before, and just commented on my activity photos from a couple days ago. I was really shocked!”

Jing Hong: “…………”

A few seconds later, he voiced his primary thought regarding the matter: “Zhou Buqun is so ugly—how could he sire a son with these looks? Must be a genetic mutation, I swear.”

Yao: “HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! Jing Hong, you’re pretty funny in private!”

At the time, Jing Hong was 22 years old and didn’t yet need to remain perpetually poised.

That year, Stanford defeated Harvard to take the championship, and countless companies extended job offers, but Jing Hong was studying computer science and intended to pursue his PhD.

The semifinals of that competition marked the first time Jing Hong ever felt a sense of “threat.” In the past, he hadn’t even known what the word “threat” looked like.

And ever since, the name “Zhou Chang” had followed him like a shadow, never leaving his side.

Jing Hong didn’t particularly like the feeling, but turning the thought over in his mind, if Zhou Chang didn’t exist, the business world would actually be quite dull. Without competition, he would lose his drive.

Truth be told, during this period since Zhou Chang took over Qinghui and revealed his sharp claws, Jing Hong had been at his most ambitious and driven in his entire life.

All in all, Jing Hong and Zhou Chang met back then by a stroke of fate, caught off guard. Later, when they respectively took over two of the “Big Four” giants—Fanhai and Qinghui—it was like two flowers blooming on separate branches, each flourishing in its own realm.