Chapter 24: Feichi Auto Investment (Part 6)

Chapter 24: Feichi Auto Investment Case (VI)

After arriving at the hotel, Jing Hong discovered that neither he nor Zhou Chang had chosen the official hotel—they'd both independently booked the same other hotel. The hotel they selected was located at the confluence of the two rivers, with excellent views. The hotel had only two luxury suites, both on the top floor, with Fanhai and Qinghui each having booked one—the two suites were right next to each other.

After a night's sleep at the hotel, Jing Hong went to attend the "Smart Expo" early the next morning.

Jing Hong had a bit of a cold, though it didn't affect his speech. The air conditioning had been set too high the night before, and he'd kicked off his blanket in the middle of the night, which had given him a bit of a cold.

He talked about AI, while Qinghui put heavy emphasis on "cloud computing." Zhou Chang said Qinghui would build several new submarine cables to boost coverage across continents like Asia and Europe, and would also establish two new cloud data centers—one in Vietnam and one in Saudi Arabia—to expand its business territory.

In the afternoon, Jing Hong took a close look at Fanhai Group's negotiations and spotted a few problems.

By evening, for whatever reason, Jing Hong took a few executives to try "Shancheng's Number One." The restaurant had private rooms, but the big group still drew a lot of attention as they made their way from the entrance to the stairs. Two people by the window recognized Jing Hong, pointed at him, and shouted: "Big shot!!!" "The big shot's here for hotpot!!!"

Jing Hong didn't care at all. He'd been photographed on the subway and posted online before, but he was a businessman, not a celebrity, so of course it didn't bother him.

"Shancheng's Number One" was really damn good. Jing Hong had figured that after all these years, having tried every delicacy under the sun, he might be let down by the "Chongqing" of his memories—but unexpectedly, Shancheng's Number One surprised him once again.

In that moment, the past and present came together in a wonderful way.

After the hotpot, the other subordinates all scattered. Tan Qian had chartered a yacht, and Jing Hong went to experience Chongqing's "Two Rivers Night Cruise" again.

"Two rivers converge; the city carved from cliffs." Because of the layered terrain, people have loved Chongqing's night views since ancient times—loved watching the layers of human life and light. For this view, people used to build observation towers at the highest points; now they sail boats on the river.

The scenery along the river matched his memories in some ways, but differed in others. Chaotianmen was still Chaotianmen, and the Yangtze River Bridge was still the Yangtze River Bridge, but when he was a kid there was no neon-lit Hongya Cave, no towering CBD skyline.

The river breeze lingered, the dark waters rolled slowly, and on both banks stretched layer upon layer of glowing lights from homes. Those lights cast down on the river, swaying gently with the waves, like ink mixed with color—impossible to tell which patches of the river were lights and which were moonlight or starlight.

A rare moment of peace.

Back at the hotel, Jing Hong showered, had a few video calls with executives still in Beijing, and then planned to head down to the 22nd floor to discuss Fanhai stuff with the senior staff. His floor had only two presidential suites, one on each side; everyone else was on the 22nd floor.

Jing Hong usually had dozens of meetings a day. Most had been cancelled for the Smart Expo, but some urgent stuff still needed immediate decisions.

Jing Hong pressed the button for the 22nd floor. Knowing he might stop by, Fanhai's people had already given him a key card for the 22nd floor.

The elevator came quickly, the red numbers ticking up. Then the doors slid open smoothly. Just as Jing Hong was about to step in, he found someone inside about to step out—and he paused for a moment, since only two people were staying on this floor.

He looked up, and sure enough, it was Zhou Chang.

Zhou Chang had one hand in his pocket, the other casually flipping a key card between his fingers.

Seeing Jing Hong, his flipping motion stopped.

Face to face, and having just owed him a favor yesterday, Jing Hong made small talk: "Back so late?"

"Yeah." Zhou Chang looked at Jing Hong and said, "Went to try 'Shancheng's Number One'—pretty damn good. For once, President Jing didn't steer me wrong. I almost don't know how to handle it."

"..." Even knowing Zhou Chang was referring to the Fanhai-Qinghui rivalry, and possibly hinting at the Med-Ferry or Suigou incidents, Jing Hong felt Zhou Chang had a screw loose, but he kept his tone polite: "We were there too—must've been ahead of Qinghui."

"Chongqing's Two Rivers Night Cruise—" Zhou Chang went on, "I did that too. Also very good."

Jing Hong's eyelid twitched. He said, "Same. We must've been ahead of Qinghui there too. Maybe because we talked about that childhood trip on the plane, I wanted to find it again, to see again the beautiful memories of my childhood."

Zhou Chang: "Mm."

"Alright," Jing Hong still needed to get to the 22nd floor and couldn't chat long, so he took his leave: "I still have some stuff to handle. President Zhou should head back too—you reek of hotpot." It didn't quite match his bespoke suit, or his status.

Zhou Chang put on that half-serious, half-joking look again: "Hotpot smell? That's a bit crude, don't you think?"

Jing Hong asked: "What else, then?"

"Didn't President Jing just say so?" Zhou Chang smiled. "The smell of President Jing's beautiful childhood memories."

Jing Hong was speechless.

"Alright, President Jing, go handle your business. Bye." Zhou Chang didn't push the topic, and seeing Jing Hong about to leave, he said "Bye."

So Jing Hong nodded too: "Bye."

The elevator doors slid shut slowly.

Hearing the "click" of the doors closing, Zhou Chang suddenly turned back, his gaze silently resting on the closed elevator doors.

The elevator hummed as it started up. Zhou Chang watched the floor numbers jump from this floor to the one below, then another below that, gradually fading into the distance, before finally pulling his gaze away and heading toward his own room.

What he'd said earlier—"the smell of President Jing's beautiful childhood memories"—wasn't a lie at all.

Though he himself wasn't entirely sure why, after the first day of the Smart Expo ended, he'd suddenly recalled the way Jing Hong had looked on the plane when he said, "Maybe it's childhood nostalgia, but I have a very good impression of Chongqing," and then he'd wanted to try the Two Rivers Night Cruise too, and "Shancheng's Number One" as well—curious about what the restaurant Jing Hong had loved as a kid tasted like, and what the scenery he'd loved looked like.

It was weird. Zhou Chang had been to Chongqing countless times, but had never had any interest in getting to know the city.

Calling it research on a competitor felt like a bit of a stretch.

…………

After reviewing the first day of the Smart Expo—including signed orders and the progress of other sales leads①—and returning to his room, a thought that had been brewing in Jing Hong's mind surfaced more clearly.

Chongqing's night was ablaze with lights. Jing Hong pulled open the floor-to-ceiling glass door and stepped out onto the suite's terrace. The hotel was at Chaotianmen, where the two rivers meet, and the view was great.

Jing Hong walked to the edge of the terrace, resting his elbows on the railing, slightly hunched, gazing out at the sea of lights.

He didn't know how long passed before he heard a "whoosh"—the floor-to-ceiling window of the suite next door had been opened too.

Zhou Chang also stepped onto his terrace, leaning on the railing. Their eyes met briefly, and Zhou Chang smiled first: "We meet again, President Jing."

Jing Hong nodded.

Zhou Chang was wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

His hair was freshly washed and not blow-dried, unlike usual—the fierce edge he normally carried was gone. The bathrobe had no buttons, only a sash at the waist, with the collar hanging loose, revealing his collarbones and a broad expanse of solid muscle. From his angle, Jing Hong could see even more.

Jing Hong took in the view without changing his expression.

Zhou Chang made small talk: "How did Fanhai do today?"

"Not bad." Jing Hong gave nothing away, and asked, "And Qinghui?"

Zhou Chang said: "Also not bad." Likewise, revealing nothing.

Just then, a night breeze swept by. Zhou Chang pressed down the hem of his bathrobe with his right hand, only letting go once the wind had passed.

Jing Hong glanced at him, and Zhou Chang casually explained: "Nothing underneath."

"..." Jing Hong almost rolled his eyes again. He looked away, shook his head, and didn't take the bait.

After a moment, Zhou Chang suddenly said: "This Smart Expo... is pretty special."

Jing Hong asked casually, "What's so special about it?"

"Not sure," Zhou Chang said, "it just feels special—two nights in a row with nothing going on. Last night we chatted, tonight we're checking out the scenery. I've got a feeling I'll remember this for a long, long time."

Jing Hong looked at Zhou Chang.

The river breeze was still soft and warm. Above, scattered starlight; below, layers of city lights, half-lit, half-shadowed—a rhythm totally unlike Beijing's.

The city's name means "double happiness," but it's been through a lot. After all its ups and downs, it had settled back into calm, with a unique vibe.

Zhou Chang's eyes drifted over too.

Neither of them said anything, but there was a soft spark in their eyes. After a beat, they both turned to look straight ahead at the same time.

The night breeze was getting cooler.

Jing Hong said, "It's getting cold. I'll head back first. You should head in early too, since you've got nothing on underneath."

"I'm fine," Zhou Chang said. "I'm healthy, got good blood flow—tons of energy with nowhere to burn it."

Jing Hong gave Zhou Chang a look, teasing in his eyes, but said nothing.

After saying goodbye to Zhou Chang on the terrace, Jing Hong locked the glass door, drew the curtains, and did some work before going to bed.

That night, weirdly enough, Jing Hong had a sex dream.

It was fuzzy and all over the place, but at one point, the person in the dream seemed to be Zhou Chang.

In that segment, Zhou Chang was half-kneeling, half-squatting in front of him, in a bathrobe, front hanging open, showing off broad, solid muscle. One side of the robe was draped over his knee, the other dragged on the floor, half-hidden, the light inside too dim to make out details. In the dream, the guy's strong hands were gripping him, looking up at him in a submissive pose.

When he woke up, thinking back on that sex dream, Jing Hong couldn't believe it, and his heart was pounding so hard—thumping so hard it made his chest hurt.

He couldn't help but replay it in his mind again.

...

After getting ready, seeing he still had some time, Jing Hong put on a light blue shirt, no suit jacket, picked up a document, and sat in the lounge on the 28th floor for a bit.

Beijing's autumn felt dreary, but down south, the sun was still pouring in warm.

The hotel faced where the two rivers met, and one side of the 28th-floor lounge was all floor-to-ceiling windows, spotless and bright, with a row of steel railings at waist height. A few sleek wooden sofas faced the windows, with tall, lush plants behind them.

Jing Hong crossed his long legs, reading the file. After a bit, he looked up and saw Zhou Chang standing by the glass wall, hands in his pockets, staring out the window.

Weirdly, Jing Hong recognized Zhou Chang right away.

He couldn't help thinking about last night's dream and felt a quick pang of guilt.

As if he felt Jing Hong's eyes on him, Zhou Chang turned around.

By now, Zhou Chang had changed back into his usual expensive custom suit, looking all proper—no longer half-dressed like last night, his black hair perfectly in place.

It was Jing Hong who spoke first: "Morning. Well, look who it is."

Zhou Chang said, "Morning."

Jing Hong glanced at the document in his hand, then suddenly looked up a few seconds later and asked Zhou Chang, "Zhou, has Qinghui ever thought about putting a sales person in charge of cloud computing?"

Zhou Chang paused, then raised an eyebrow, like he found it intriguing, his tone full of disbelief: "You're asking me for advice?"

"Just asking, that's all," Jing Hong said.

Good or bad, it was all unknown—everything was a gamble. He didn't care if Zhou Chang knew what he was thinking.

Zhou Chang had to have been thinking the same thing; Jing Hong just wanted to hear where he'd landed on it.

Zhou Chang could say it or not—either way was fine.

From last night until now, Jing Hong had been considering this matter.

In the past and present, whether it was Fanhai, Qinghui, Xingyuan, Weilai, or any other tech company, the head of this department had always been someone with a technical background—studied computer science, worked in computer science, spent a lifetime dealing with technology.

But that came with its own set of problems.

Cloud computing was a B2B (business-to-business) operation, with clients being companies across various industries. Public cloud was fine, but in the private cloud segment, products needed to be customized based on the client's specific needs on top of the industry's general version. The sales and pre-sales departments served as the bridge, conveying client needs to the product managers in the R&D department.

But to save themselves trouble, the R&D department would always convey the same message to the sales and pre-sales teams: there were two things they couldn't do—this couldn't be done, and that couldn't be done.

That was a bit of an exaggeration, but the truth was that whenever they encountered a more difficult project, the R&D department often hoped the sales team would communicate directly with the client, convincing them to drop their requirements and make the product closer to the general version, rather than pushing hard to deliver. Saying "this can't be done, that can't be done" wasn't entirely unfair to them.

In the company's structure, the sales/pre-sales department of the cloud computing business group was on par with the R&D department, but since every leader came from R&D, they naturally favored the R&D side, leaving sales and pre-sales quite disadvantaged.

Jing Hong had known this before, but after yesterday's Smart Expo and observing the pre-sales process, he felt this problem had been getting more severe lately.

Fanhai Group's cloud computing wasn't particularly outstanding to begin with. After five full years with a tech-background leader, the technology didn't seem to have improved much, and sales were barely limping along. So Jing Hong pondered: if he put in a leader who leaned more toward the sales side, using clients' actual needs to pressure the R&D department and give it a push, might the technology actually improve?

Additionally, based on yesterday's feedback, the general templates for various industries on the public cloud felt disconnected and out of touch—more flashy in technology than practical in function. That was also normal, because with a tech-background leader, the people below would naturally try to showcase their technical prowess rather than practicality, and the leader himself might also fall into the "tech" dead end.

Of course, this would put a lot of pressure on the cloud computing R&D department and stir up more emotions, but the R&D department head was highly intelligent and emotionally savvy. If the R&D team genuinely couldn't deliver, he should be able to handle communication and coordination with his superiors. He wasn't the type to just flatter his boss while ignoring his subordinates' struggles.

Jing Hong wanted to try something new—breaking the mold by putting a sales person in charge.

Using business needs to drive product and technology.

A few seconds later, Zhou Chang nodded: "I've been considering that option."

"..." Jing Hong looked at his document, saying nothing.

After another few seconds, Zhou Chang asked with a smile, "How about we try it together? Succeed together, fail together. Otherwise, if Qinghui fails and Fanhai swoops in, that would be terrible."

By now the sun had risen. Zhou Chang stood with his back to it, leaning lightly against the railing, sunlight streaming from behind him, enveloping his entire figure in a golden glow. Wearing a black shirt, the contrast was striking.

"Not playing," Jing Hong said, still propping his head up, looking at the document. "I'll think it over."

Zhou Chang curled his lips slightly and said, "No fun." Then he turned back to gaze out the window.

Jing Hong wanted to say, "You're the only fun one," but of course, he didn't.

"Alright, it's about time. I'll head back and get ready." After a moment, Zhou Chang stepped away from the glass wall and spoke to Jing Hong again.

Jing Hong nodded.

Zhou Chang asked again, "I'm leaving after this afternoon's signing ceremony. What about you, Jing?"

Jing Hong said, "Same here."

"Still catching my plane?"

"No, thanks," Jing Hong said, always polite. "No rush on my schedule tonight. Waiting a bit longer or shorter doesn't matter."

"Alright, then—" Zhou Chang hesitated for a moment, then said, "After today, once we're back in Beijing, it'll be a long time before we see each other again." Zhou Chang had flipped through the calendar last night; there were no significant events in the coming months.

"Yes." Jing Hong cracked a joke, teasing Zhou Chang, "Why does President Zhou sound so bummed about it? Do you actually hope we meet again in the office?" That time with Med-Ferry, Jing Hong had gone directly to Zhou Chang's personal office, and they had naturally crossed paths.

Zhou Chang gave a small smile. "Of course not. Better not to meet at all."

But Zhou Chang felt something complicated inside. At the thought of not seeing Jing Hong for a long time, he seemed to harbor a hint of regret after all.

Author's Note:

①Sales Lead: A potential customer who's shown some interest in the product.