They didn’t go home but checked into a hotel room, enjoying rare time together since Dandan’s birth. Life must go on, but life requires sacrifices.

When Cui Bingbing went out in the evening, she wore a practical oversized robe designed to withstand her daughter’s kicks. But in the morning, holding her husband’s hand as they went to the buffet breakfast, her smile made it seem like she was wearing haute couture.

While they were still eating breakfast, Shen Huadong had already called. Liu Jun couldn’t help but laugh upon hearing him: “Your schedule is off today—aren’t you supposed to get up at ten?”

“After dinner last night, you ditched me, leaving me to find nightlife companions elsewhere. I thought of a question—what do you plan for the new company’s sales revenue, gross profit margin, and after-tax profit percentage?”

Sales revenue depends on the investment scale. As for profit margins, whatever your Shi Yiji makes, ours won’t be much different. This concept was originally for conventional operations, taking the capital-intensive volume route.”

“Shouldn’t your self-developed fresh products have a price reduction process, rather than going straight to mass market prices?”

“How many days of high prices can imitators give me, tell me?”

“My God, I’ve been short-circuiting lately, you’re right. I need to recalculate. Have you sold your dollars? They’ve been falling from 8.2 to 8 yuan recently. I carelessly forgot I had dollars in a savings account and only discovered it yesterday—oh no. I’ll contact you again later.”

After hearing Liu Jun’s explanation, Cui Bingbing laughed: “What strategic investment do you need? Isn’t this exactly my territory? I’ll solve your funding issues.”

“Don’t make mistakes, don’t let people catch you.”

“How could that happen? It’s not like taking bank money for free—we’re just getting loans, and you’re a quality borrower. Don’t worry, I’ll handle the operations. I won’t go through my bank—I’ll talk to the loan officer at your basic account bank.”

Driving the Ferrari, they first returned to the center to change clothes and pick up Dandan, attracting countless stares along the way. Cui Bingbing watched and laughed: “With my sacred mother look and these clothes, no one would suspect I’m your mistress—they’d just curse my good luck, hahaha.”

“People would more likely suspect I’m being kept by a rich woman—yes, that’s the biggest suspicion. Later, I’ll need to use your car to pick up Dandan and the nanny since this flashy car only has two seats. But I need some excuse to use it for several more days—what excuse should I use?”

“Dongdong will probably regret agreeing to be your strategic investor. His family’s investment returns are always very considerable, something others can’t get. Why invest with you when it’s not charity? His phone call earlier showed he’s already awakened. Use that as the excuse to keep his car for another week—let’s take a trip to Shanghai.”

Indeed, on Liu Jun’s way back after dropping off Cui Bingbing and her daughter at work, Shen Huadong called to apologize. Liu Jun smoothly and cheerfully proposed keeping the car for a week. Shen Huadong yelled a few times on the other end but agreed. Liu Jun was delighted, returned to the center to change back to the Ferrari, and went to the industrial zone for a closed-door meeting. Since the decision was made, they should act quickly without delay.

The meeting attendees were precisely those Liu Jun planned to give shares to: engineers Sun, Liao, Tan, and other research personnel, main production and sales managers, and the office director who had loyally followed Liu Jun for six years. Research personnel comprised exactly half the group. The meeting assigned Luo Qing to scout locations, the office director to prepare registration materials, recruit key financial managers, and begin large-scale employee training. Everyone was extremely excited. Without Liu Jun’s assignment, factory and center personnel automatically united, saying they’d produce an equipment list based on investment amounts within three days. Soon, the factory contacted the office, proactively proposing joint formulation of training plans. Everyone was experienced and didn’t need Liu Jun’s command and coordination—they coordinated thoroughly themselves. Originally, Luo Qing and the factory manager had some conflicts, but these were set aside now. They truly gave full play to subjective initiative and collective wisdom.

And this was just after Liu Jun proposed the equity concept. Since the new company hadn’t even been outlined yet and couldn’t convert concepts into legal documents, they had already transformed the carrot dangling from their lips into motivation and were going all out. Liu Jun could easily see prospects for the new company’s smooth operation. This showed that universally applicable principles have their inevitable reasons for existence.

After the meeting, even the new company’s name was decided: Tengda.

Liu Jun thought the speed was incredible, but after leaving the closed-door meeting, everyone spontaneously and consciously got to work. Though R&D center engineers couldn’t contribute much to the Tengda project, they clearly showed more energy. This made Liu Jun so relaxed that he simply drove Shen Huadong’s Ferrari around the technology park to familiarize himself with its performance.

But the relaxation only lasted a day or two. As Luo Qing quickly confirmed factory locations, Liu Jun began personally examining sites piece by piece. When preferential policies were too good to be true, they weren’t true—just bait to lure you in, then trap you once you arrived. He’d heard too many such stories. For locations with seemingly decent conditions, he’d drive around the area several times, write down enterprise names, call friends to inquire, and, through friend introductions, find established business owners for consultation. He’d ask not only whether investment policies could be implemented without authorities turning hostile, but also whether local power brokers in departments like utilities, communications, transportation, and taxation were nicknamed “Zhou the Skinflayer.”

Liu Jun now differed from when Tengfei started. He’d experienced so much—the factory’s endless daily incidents were the best teachers. Working within this environment not only taught hard-learned lessons but also developed expertise and the ability to draw inferences. Therefore, Tengda’s location was quickly decided: a development zone with policy advantages and transportation convenient for Liu Jun’s factory needs—both highway and water transport, though inconvenient for ordinary residents. Precisely such land could be obtained at low prices. Luo Qing, with his government connections, learned through friends that rapid transit arteries would soon be built nearby. Liu Jun secured 200 acres of land, agreeing to pay the land transfer fees over three years, with half paid initially.

Within less than a month, the 200 acres of serviced land were enclosed with walls. Standing on the dedicated two-lane cement road leading to Tengda, looking at the seemingly endless snow-white walls, Liu Jun told Cui Bingbing, who’d come with their child to see the excitement, that it truly felt like a path to a small kingdom. It was almost impossible not to feel some pride at such moments. Luo Qing and others also brought their families in their cars to see. Their feelings about Tengda now differed greatly from when they first saw Tengfei—this kingdom-like Tengda contained a piece that belonged to them. That sense of ownership was the solid feeling of being masters of their destiny.

Tengda’s progress advanced smoothly. Except for money being an issue, everything else seemed manageable. Three cobblers were better than one. Zhuge Liang—large and small shareholders pulling in the same direction with unified thoughts produced effects incomparable to when Liu Jun and his father managed Tengfei’s infrastructure alone. But just as things were going smoothly, a northeastern-accented call came to Liu Jun’s mobile, asking out of nowhere whether Liu Jun was Tengfei’s boss, how a German company boss could be Chinese, how the boss’s phone could be reached so easily, and whether this was one of the famous shell companies from coastal areas. Liu Jun didn’t answer, telling them if they had doubts, they should directly check registration records at the local industrial and commercial bureau, then hang up.

But after putting down the phone, Liu Jun thought of a flaw—how did that senseless caller know Tengfei was German-funded? Checking his phone’s call records, indeed, the area code displayed was the same as Mr. An’s. Liu Jun felt an ominous premonition. After thinking it over, he decided not to appear personally but have Luo Qing contact a client to inquire about Mr. An’s company’s situation.

News came quickly. Mr. An’s company was currently dying. With the New Year approaching, the company account lacked even money for basic wages. Company finances had to rob Peter to pay Paul daily just to maintain operations. Even Mr. An’s car had been sold to pay debts. Mr. An now took taxis to work and rarely went out for meetings or business trips, instead frequently visiting government offices seeking policies. Many workers had no savings, and northeasterners faced heating issues in winter. Many workers couldn’t pay heating fees and could only endure the cold. The company was currently in panic with all kinds of rumors.

Liu Jun thought to himself that the third and final R&D payment would inevitably fall through. Though when obtaining the second R&D payment from Mr. An early in the year, Liu Jun had been mentally prepared, he hadn’t expected this day to come so quickly. Supposedly, Mr. An’s subordinate companies had considerable assets, like a centipede that dies hard. In the current excellent economic environment, how could they die so quickly?

Liu Jun called Mr. An. Previously, he’d called Mr. An every few days, basically reporting progress and maintaining relationships. This time, he asked if Mr. An needed help. Mr. An’s voice on the phone remained vigorous and quite optimistic. He said difficulties were only temporary and told Liu Jun just to focus on his work. To comfort Liu Jun, Mr. An described his recent thinking: poverty spurs change. Since the company had been too poor to make ends meet for half a year, they should consider going out, reforming their current backward system, and seeking external capital injection.

Liu Jun raised his doubt: “The company needs to support so many idle people—who would dare inject capital?”

Mr. An said, “The investors we’ve contacted all have similar thoughts—you’re right. But this is our old state enterprise’s chronic disease. There’s no solution. If the enterprise nature doesn’t change, we can only watch it rot. We’re currently compiling opinions from all sides to report to city leadership, seeking policies. Anyway, you focus on East Sea No. 1. The final R&D payment might face some difficulties, but I won’t renege on what I promised you.”

Liu Jun thought to himself: Mr. An, what gives you the right not to renege? But he couldn’t ask more, only comforting Mr. An and advising him to balance work and rest, and take care of his health. After ending the call with Mr. An, he completely abandoned hope for the third R&D payment and realized they’d need self-reliance from now on. He kept telling himself that without Mr. An’s support initially, he’d originally planned self-reliance anyway. Tengfei would have taken two or three times longer to fully fund similar robotics development. Now with Mr. An helping solve two-thirds of the funding, the result was already better than expected. He had nothing to complain about and should thank heaven for treating him well—he was lucky. As Mr. An said, he should focus on doing his work well.