Chapter 57: Defeat, but Not Total Defeat “If you’re interested, I can take you to a company in a few days to see how a professional studio builds online influencers.” Lu Liang thought of Meng Changkun’s investment company, one of which was an MCN (Multi-Channel Network) agency—a studio dedicated to managing online influencers. Essentially, it acts as a middleman connecting influencers with platforms, ensuring consistent content output and monetizing traffic. “That sounds too serious! I’m just doing this for fun.” Li Manli was surprised. She had become a content creator mainly out of boredom, and once she discovered she could make money, it became even more enjoyable. She hadn’t thought much about the future. “It’s up to you. If you want to earn more, I can invest in building a studio for you.” “You can just focus on looking good. Content design, video shooting, and editing will all be handled by professionals,” Lu Liang explained the benefits of having a studio. With over 80 million yuan in his account, he was struggling to find good ways to spend it. Buying property and gold felt like uninspired investments. He wanted something with potential. Li Manli’s head was practically steaming as she groaned softly, clutching her temples. “You decide. I’m fine with whatever.” “But my judgment wasn’t wrong,” he muttered, stepping out onto the balcony to light a cigarette. Looking out at the river, he shifted his perspective, and his mood improved. Mobike was registered in April with only 10 million yuan in funding. By May, their product was on the market, and by late September, their valuation had jumped 11-fold to $18 million. In just four months, Mobike’s success confirmed that Lu Liang had chosen the right industry—he’d simply backed the wrong horse. Flicking his cigarette ash, he returned to his desk and pulled up detailed information on Mobike. He found two key figures: Hu Weiwei and Li Bing. Hu Weiwei, Mobike’s founder, graduated from the Hangzhou University of Journalism and became an automotive journalist, where she met Li Bing. Li Bing founded Yiche.com in 2005, took it public overseas in 2010, and ranked 125th on last year’s Hurun Rich List with a net worth of 7.9 billion yuan. Essentially, Li Bing was both Hu Weiwei’s patron and Mobike’s financial backer. “OFO isn’t done; it just lost its lead,” Lu Liang concluded. The shared-bike market still had over three months of competition left, and OFO, as the trailblazer, was still the industry leader. It had been surpassed but not entirely defeated. “Little Chen, book me a high-speed train ticket to Hangzhou for tomorrow morning. I’ll return in the evening—you’re coming with me.” Lu Liang contacted his assistant Chen Jinchun, planning to visit Hangzhou to explore investing in Mobike as a hedge. That way, whether Mobike or OFO came out on top, he wouldn’t lose out. The next morning, Lu Liang drove to the train station. Chen Jinchun, looking half-awake, dragged herself there. Last night, Tang Caidie had taken her to recruit staff while teaching her the basics of being an assistant, such as booking tickets, cars, and hotels for business trips. By the time she finished, the sky was already bright. She’d slept less than two hours. Nibbling on a bun, Chen handed one to Lu Liang. “Mr. Lu, this is for you.” Smiling, he accepted her kind gesture. Having just woken up himself, he hadn’t eaten either. An hour later, they arrived in Hangzhou on the Fuxing bullet train. A Mercedes S-Class from the Four Seasons Hotel was already waiting at the station. “Why don’t you rest at the hotel?” Lu Liang suggested, noticing how drowsy she looked. “I just dozed off a little earlier. I’m much better now,” Chen replied, taking a deep breath and widening her eyes to appear alert. She didn’t want to leave a bad impression on her first day. Seeing her determination, Lu Liang didn’t push further and instructed the driver to head to the university district to observe Mobike’s operations. As soon as they entered the area, small red bikes were everywhere—seven or eight neatly parked at almost every intersection. Mobike’s design was clearly more attractive and fashionable than OFO’s yellow bikes, and people were riding them all over. “Stop here,” Lu Liang told the driver, then grabbed a bike with Chen. Each bike required a 299-yuan deposit, with an initial top-up providing five free riding hours. The hourly rate was relatively high at 2 yuan but offset by frequent promotions, like 5 yuan for two days of unlimited rides or 10 yuan for seven days. “Dai Wei should come see this,” Lu Liang thought as he pedaled, contemplating Mobike’s operational model. Profitability wasn’t the goal—at such low rates, they weren’t making much. What they wanted was the deposit money. Collect deposits, expand the market, secure funding, repeat. The larger the user base, the bigger the deposits and the market.