The richest man started taking advantage of loopholes after joining Alibaba.

At the end of 42nd Street in Queens, New York.

This is the place in the whole city that most resembles a garbage dump.

The layers of graffiti on the wall look like the marks left by wild dogs fighting for territory.

When the wind blows, the newspapers and plastic bags scattered all over the ground swirl around, carrying a sour, rotten smell.

Right in the middle of this pile of garbage.

A black, extended Lincoln, like an uninvited guest, slowly came to a stop.

The jet-black, gleaming car body stood out starkly against the backdrop of the dilapidated red brick walls.

It's like a gentleman in a tuxedo suddenly stumbling into a slaughterhouse full of drunks.

The car door opened.

A gleaming Italian handmade leather shoe was extended out.

As soon as it landed.

"Smack!"

The leather shoes stepped into a puddle of viscous liquid of unknown composition.

It could be vomit from the previous day, or it could be cola that someone carelessly spilled.

Li Mo climbed out of the car, looking as if he had just been pulled out of the water.

His hair was a mess, his expensive Armani suit was wrinkled and hung on his body, and his tie was askew.

He glanced down at his shoes.

The sticky substance was stuck to the sole of his shoe, and as he lifted his foot, it stretched out in a disgusting long strand.

Normally, Li Mo would probably have taken off his shoes and thrown them away on the spot, and then given the driver a good dressing down.

But now, he didn't even frown.

He didn't even have time to pay attention to the bodyguard who was about to come up and hold an umbrella for him.

He looked up and stared intently at the glass door in front of him, which was covered with vulgar little GG stickers.

A tattered neon sign hung above the entrance, flashing a few cheap letters: "Internet Cafe".

Li Mo took a deep breath, as if he were going to his death, and pushed open the greasy door.

"Ring ring—"

The wind chimes on the door rang once, but the clear sound was instantly drowned out by the noise inside the house.

A strong smell wafted over.

It smelled of cheap tobacco, stale sweat, moldy carpet, and Red Bull mixed together.

The stench almost made Li Mo vomit on the spot.

A huge, 300-pound man was sitting at the front desk, his feet propped up on the table, yelling at a small television.

A baseball game is playing on TV.

"Home run! Kill him!"

The fat man was holding a handful of greasy potato chips, with crumbs spraying everywhere.

Standing at the door, Li Mo felt a strong sense of incongruity, making him feel like a sheep that had strayed into a pack of wolves.

Nobody paid him any attention.

People here are either wearing headphones and screaming, or staring intently at their screens like zombies.

Li Mo suppressed the nausea and looked around the dimly lit hall.

at last.

In the innermost corner, he saw that familiar figure from behind.

The person he hated so much he wanted to grind his teeth, but now he had no choice but to beg for help.

Lin Che.

He was huddled in a worn-out leather sofa, wearing a peeling old pair of headphones.

On the table in front of me was a bucket of freshly made instant noodles.

Several curly noodles hung on the fork, steaming hot.

The cheap smell of braised beef wafted through the enclosed space, even overpowering the cologne that Li Mo was wearing, which cost several hundred dollars a ounce.

Lin Che slurped his noodles while staring at the screen, his left hand still typing away on the keyboard.

He looks like an ordinary internet addict teenager just wasting his time online.

Sitting next to Lin Che was a Mexican guy with a full beard.

He was about to throw his cigarette butt on the ground when he looked up and saw Li Mo standing there.

The young man paused for a moment.

He glanced at Li Mo's expensive suit, which was wrinkled but still looked very expensive, and then at Lin Che, who was eating instant noodles.

His gaze became a little strange.

He whistled and nudged Lin Che with his elbow:

Hey, bro.

"Your creditors have arrived?"

.......

Lin Che ignored him.

He ignored Li Mo standing behind him.

He was completely focused on controlling the game character on the screen.

This is a crucial ranked match; I can't AFK.

Li Mo stood there, looking at that familiar back, and his anger suddenly flared up.

The anger of being mocked, betrayed, and driven to the brink caused him to lose his mind instantly.

"Lin Che!"

Li Mo let out a low growl, his voice trembling with extreme anger.

"How long are you going to keep up this act?!"

"Did you do this?!"

"That traffic! Those damned bargain hunters! Did you put it in there?!"

His shout was so loud that several people playing games around him turned around and looked at him as if he were crazy.

Lin Che's hand didn't even tremble.

He didn't even turn his head.

He simply extended a finger and pointed to the time bar at the top of the screen.

Then he waved his hand.

The meaning is obvious:

To shut up.

Wait until I finish this game.

Li Mo was so angry that he trembled all over, and his fists clenched so tightly that they cracked.

Who is he?

He is a director at Alibaba, a core executive in this IPO roadshow, and an elite with a net worth of over 100 million yuan.

He's always the one waiting for others; when has it ever been his turn to wait for others?

And in such a disgusting place, waiting for a former employee who was playing games!

"I'm talking to you!"

Li Mo was about to rush up and rip off Lin Che's headphones.

The Mexican guy next to me suddenly stood up.

This guy is 1.9 meters tall, his arms are covered in tattoos, and he's staring at Li Mo with a pair of bull-like eyes.

Although no words were spoken, the meaning was clear:

Don't cause trouble here.

Looking at the arm that was thicker than his own thigh, Li Mo swallowed back the swear words that were about to come out of his mouth.

He could only endure it.

This minute felt longer than a century to him.

Every second felt like countless knives were cutting into his heart.

at last.

A large "Victory" icon popped up on the screen.

Lin Che took off his headphones and casually tossed them onto the table.

He picked up the bucket of instant noodles, tilted his head back, and gulped down a large mouthful of the noodle soup.

He let out a satisfied sigh.

"ha--"

Then, he slowly turned around, pulled out a tissue, and wiped his mouth.

"Mr. Li, why are you so angry?"

"Want a bucket? It tastes good."

Looking at that smiling face, Li Mo felt an urge to punch it.

Stop grinning at me!

"That memo was a setup by you, wasn't it? You knew all along that the physical isolation wasn't finished!"

"You deliberately let those five million paupers in here just to kill me today!"

Lin Che put down the instant noodle cup, leaned back in his chair, and his eyes instantly turned cold.

That cynical smile disappeared.

Instead, there was a coldness that felt unfamiliar to Li Mo.

"Mr. Li, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't say whatever you want."

Lin Che's voice was soft, but every word was piercing.

"The memorandum of understanding on technical resource support was something you begged me to sign in order to improve the financial statements."

"The physical isolation wasn't completed because you said you didn't want to affect the main architecture for Singles' Day, so it was specially approved that it didn't need to be done."

"As for those users..."

Lin Che gave a cold laugh.

"You think their average order value is too low, so you want to get rid of them."

"Now that they're back, instead of reflecting on why your servers were so fragile, you're blaming me?"

"Isn't this logic a bit too thuggish?"

Li Mo opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found himself unable to utter a single word.

Every word is true.

Every single pitfall was one he dug himself for the sake of his so-called "performance."

The Muddy Waters report is still unfolding.

Yahoo's stock price is still plummeting.

The domestic servers are still issuing warnings.

That rigorous compliance investigation was like a Damocles' sword hanging over their heads.

Li Mo's momentum collapsed instantly.

The anger I felt just now vanished without a trace, like a deflated balloon.

All that remained was endless despair and fear.

His knees buckled, and he almost knelt on the ground.

He leaned on the greasy table, his voice trembling with tears:

"Lin Che... I'm begging you."

"I know you have a way."

"You created that group-buying platform, and you must have left that backdoor too."

"Could you please stop the data transfer?"

"How much money do you want? What are your conditions? I'll agree to anything!"

"If only we could stop...if only we could stop..."

At this moment, Mr. Li, who was usually high and mighty, was as humble as a dog.

Lin Che looked at him, his eyes completely unmoved.

They felt neither sympathy nor satisfaction.

It's like looking at a dead person.

Sudden.

A red notification popped up in the bottom right corner of the screen.

The numbers above are flashing wildly:

Insufficient balance, time remaining: 01:00

Lin Che pointed to the notification box.

"Mr. Li, I'm sorry."

"The computer is about to lose internet access."

Li Mo was stunned for a moment, not quite understanding.

"What?"

"I said, 'We're out of money, we need to get off the plane.'"

Lin Che shrugged and looked at him innocently.

"Mr. Li, would you like to top up your account at the front desk?"

"Ten yuan."

Li Mo was stunned.

He looked at Lin Che, hardly believing his ears.

Ten yuan?

At this critical moment, this kid actually asked him to top up his internet fee by ten yuan?

"What? Mr. Li didn't bring any money?"

Lin Che raised an eyebrow.

"If there's no internet, I really won't be able to stop using this data."

Li Mo gritted his teeth, and his well-maintained face instantly turned a deep liver color.

This is not just about money.

This is a humiliation.

Naked humiliation.

But he had to endure this humiliation.

With trembling hands, he pulled the exquisite crocodile leather wallet from the inside pocket of his suit.

He pulled out a black American Express Centurion card.

That's a symbol of status, unlimited, and valid worldwide.

He took the card, turned around, and walked towards the front desk.

"top up."

Li Mo slammed the black card onto the greasy bar counter.

The fat man was engrossed in watching the show when he was interrupted, which annoyed him greatly.

He glanced at the card sideways, then at Li Mo, as if he were looking at an idiot.

"Cash only."

There is no card reader here.

Li Mo froze.

"This...this is an American Express Black Card..."

"What is that thing? I don't recognize it."

The fat man scratched his toes and waved his hand impatiently.

"Ten yuan an hour, get out if you don't have money."

Li Mo felt like everyone around him was staring at him in the back.

Those poor gamers and thugs were all watching him make a fool of himself.

A director at Alibaba can't even afford a ten-yuan internet fee.

His face stung as if he had been slapped hard several times.

He hurriedly put the black card away and rummaged through his wallet.

No cash.

He never uses cash when he goes out.

"Um... I didn't bring any cash either..."

Li Mo's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

The fat man rolled his eyes, about to curse.

Li Mo suddenly remembered that he seemed to have put this leftover bill in his pocket when he was getting change.

He quickly reached into his pocket and rummaged around for a while.

Finally, he pulled out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill.

There was a little coffee stain on it, I don't know when it was made.

He held the money in both hands and handed it over.

"Here... keep the change."

The fat man snatched the money, held it up to the light, and checked its authenticity.

Then he grabbed a handful of dirty one-dollar bills from the drawer, didn't count them, and slapped them on the table.

"Looking for you."

Li Mo looked at the pile of dirty money and didn't dare to take it.

He turned and left, walking as fast as if he were running for his life.

That figure was hunched over and looked disheveled.

Squeezed between two burly men covered in tattoos, he looked so small and ridiculous.

.......

"Beep".

As the notification sound for successful top-up rang, the red warning box on the screen disappeared.

Network restored.

Lin Che looked at the connection icon that had lit up again and nodded in satisfaction.

Li Mo stood to the side, panting and covered in sweat.

It's like you've just finished a marathon.

"The internet...the internet is working."

Li Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at Lin Che cautiously.

"Can we stop now?"

Lin Che did not answer.

He gripped the mouse and searched through the jumbled desktop icons.

Then I opened a PowerPoint file.

The screen flashed.

The deep blue business background and sophisticated layout exude a convincing "big company aesthetic."

In the very center of the screen, there was a line of striking white text:

"The Forgotten 600 Million: Strategic Value of WeiPinTuan"

(The Forgotten 600 Million People: The Strategic Value of Micro-Group Buying)

Li Mo was stunned.

He stared at the headline, somewhat bewildered.

"What is this?"

"Where's the script to stop the traffic?"

Lin Che turned his chair around to face Li Mo.

His face held a knowing, mocking expression.

"Mr. Li, how can your vision be so narrow?"

"Why stop?"

You're wrong.

Lin Che pointed at the screen, his voice suddenly becoming very inflammatory.

"These three million concurrent requests are not an attack."

"This is 'verification'."

Li Mo was completely bewildered.

"What...what verification?"

"Those are 'wool-gatherers'! They're just generating junk traffic! They're the culprits that crashed the servers!"

"No."

Lin Che shook his finger.

"That's gold."

"Mr. Li, think about it, why is Wall Street panicking?"

"Because Muddy Waters told them that this is a group of worthless zombie fans, dead data that you fabricated to create fake data."

"So they felt cheated and thought Alibaba's growth was fake."

Lin Che stood up and stared intently into Li Mo's eyes.

"But what if we tell them?"

"These people are not zombies."

"Who are the most price-sensitive, most active, and most socially-driven 'new users' in all of China?"

Li Mo was a little confused.

"Incremental...users?"

"right!"

Lin Che clicked the mouse, and the PPT turned to the next page.

It was a growth curve so steep it made your heart race.

"Look at this K-factor (virus transmission coefficient), 3.5!"

"What does this mean? It means that without spending a single penny on the paid subscription fee, one user can bring you three and a half new users!"

"This is the power of the 'lower-tier market'."

Lin Che's voice grew louder and louder, echoing in the narrow corner of the internet cafe.

"Mr. Li, this is hardly an operational accident!"

"This is Alibaba's way of entering the vast rural market and covering the 600 million forgotten people at the bottom of society."

"A 'secret exercise' conducted under high-pressure conditions!"

"And what did the result prove?"

Lin Che pointed to the surge in traffic.

"This proves our strategy was correct!"

"This proves that the 'group buying' model can fully activate users' social networks!"

"This proves that Alibaba's next trillion-dollar growth point is right here!"

Li Mo was stunned.

He stared wide-eyed at the picture, then looked at Lin Che.

That instant.

He felt as if a crack had suddenly appeared in the world that had been completely dark.

A beam of golden light shone in.

From despair to confusion, and then to ecstasy.

His eyes began to shine, and his breathing became rapid.

The logic... actually makes sense!

This not only explains why the server crashed (because the users were too enthusiastic!), but also turns Muddy Waters' accusations into a major positive (this is not a related-party transaction, it's a strategic move!).

This is simply... turning lead into gold!

"This...this really will work?"

Li Mo's voice was still trembling, but that was because of excitement.

Lin Che smiled.

That smile contained three parts sincerity and seven parts sarcasm.

He pulled the silver USB drive out of the computer case.

In the dim light, the USB flash drive gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen.

That was Li Mo's only lifeline.

Whether you can succeed depends on your storytelling ability.

Lin Che handed over the USB drive.

Li Mo accepted the small USB drive with trembling hands, as if receiving a royal decree.

Clutching it tightly in my hand.

I was afraid it would fly away.

"Take it and memorize it."

Lin Che glanced at the time.

"The roadshow will resume in one hour."

"This is your speech for the next hour."

"Wait until we get on stage."

Lin Che patted Li Mo's wrinkled shoulder and straightened his crooked tie.

"You are the visionary strategist who devised the strategy of encircling the cities from the countryside."

"And me."

Lin Che shrugged.

"Just an assistant to carry your bag."

Li Mo gripped the USB drive tightly, feeling his palms sweating profusely.

He looked at Lin Che and suddenly felt that this young man was terrifying.

But he had no choice.

This is both poison and antidote.

"good..."

Li Mo gritted his teeth, his eyes revealing a gambler's madness.

"As long as we can turn the tide, whatever you say goes!"

Lin Che nodded in satisfaction.

"Then let's go, Mr. Li."

"Wipe your sweat and straighten your back."

"We're going back to the Waldorf."

Lin Che casually turned off his computer; it was the battlefield where he had just completed a multi-million dollar investment.

He looked at the blacked-out screen and whispered:

Tonight, you are the star.