Don't underestimate the poor and elderly; I was thrilled to refuse the class beauty's adva

Tian Jun sat in the main seat, his hands crossed on the table, his brows furrowed into a deep frown.

He was forty-six years old, with most of his hair already white, and he was wearing a dark gray shirt that looked a bit worn from washing.

He founded Dami Technology from scratch, starting in a rented room next to the university town with a monthly rent of 800 yuan. He made mobile phones, air purifiers and rice cookers, and struggled all the way to where he is today. Every step he took was on the edge of a knife.

He knew how serious the current predicament was.

The chip shortage is just the first domino to fall; next comes production capacity, orders, and market share, with each domino teetering on the brink of collapse.

But what he was thinking about wasn't chips or the supply chain; it was a sketch he had drawn himself in his notebook three years ago.

The sketch showed four wheels and a frame, with a few words scrawled next to it: "Rice Car".

He wants to build cars.

He knew that the mobile phone market had reached its ceiling and the benefits of smart homes were waning. If rice was to survive, it had to find a third growth curve.

The automobile is the biggest piece of the pie, but also the biggest and toughest nut to crack.

He mentioned the idea of ​​building cars once in an internal meeting, and everyone thought he was crazy.

A company that makes OEM small appliances wants to build cars? They'd be more likely to make toy cars.

But he never believed that rice could only be produced under private label.

His mission for the company was never "to put a rice label on other people's good products and sell them," but rather "to enable everyone to enjoy the fun of technology."

If rice is only produced under private label, then this mission statement is a joke.

But building cars requires money, a lot of money. Right now, the company is struggling to survive. Its R&D funding has been cut several times, and even its mobile phone production line is being downsized. Where would it get the surplus funds to build cars?

He locked the sketch in the deepest part of the drawer, deciding to wait until the company had weathered this storm before making a move.

"Mr. Tian," the vice president with gold-rimmed glasses spoke again, his tone much more subdued this time, but still tinged with barely suppressed anxiety, "Let's vote. Raise your hand if you agree to send someone to negotiate."

A handful of hands were raised in the conference room.

"Raise your hand if you disagree."

There were seven or eight hands again.

The votes were neck and neck, and all eyes were on Tian Jun.

He abstained from voting again, marking his third abstention today.

A chorus of suppressed sighs filled the conference room. Some people took off their glasses and rubbed their noses, some leaned back in their chairs and stared blankly at the ceiling, and some closed and opened their laptops repeatedly.

Tian Jun knew he couldn't delay any longer, but he had no cards left to play.

Just as he took a deep breath, preparing to say "Let's pause the discussion," the meeting room door was suddenly pushed open.

Instead of politely knocking twice and then pushing it away, it slammed it open with a sudden, forceful blow.

The doorknob slammed against the wall with a dull thud, and all the senior executives in the conference room turned to look at the doorway.

Tian Jun's assistant, Xiao Zhao, stood at the door, one hand still in the position of pushing the door open, the other hand clutching her phone, her face flushed red, as if she had run all the way from her workstation.

His chest heaved violently, and he was so breathless that he could barely speak.

The conference room fell silent for a moment, then the vice president with the gold-rimmed glasses impatiently slammed his hand on the table:

"Xiao Zhao, what's the rush? Can't you see we're in a meeting? Can't we talk about this after the meeting?"

Xiao Zhao opened his mouth, only to find his throat dry. He swallowed hard, and managed to squeeze out a sound:

"President Tian, ​​distinguished leaders, I apologize for interrupting the meeting, but there is something I must report to you immediately."

He held up his phone, the screen displaying a page about changes in shareholding, his fingers trembling slightly with excitement.

"The exchange just issued an announcement that a mysterious tycoon has acquired 10% of our company's shares! 10%! He bought them directly from the secondary market! Now his shareholding has surpassed that of President Zhou and President Li, making him the company's third-largest shareholder!"

The meeting room was silent for a full three seconds.

Then it was like someone poured a ladle of cold water into the oil pan, and it fried.

"Ten percent?!"

The vice president with the gold-rimmed glasses was the first to stand up, snatched the phone, stared at the equity change announcement on the screen, and swiped his finger across the screen several times.

"Buying 10% directly in the secondary market! Which institution made this move?"

"Wait a minute, institutional acquisitions can't be this low-key. They just made a takeover bid without even a prior announcement? Who could this be?"

"Who cares who he is!"

The technical vice president in the plaid shirt across from them also stood up, his gloom vanishing and replaced by an excited sense of relief at having escaped a desperate situation.

He braced his fists on the conference table, leaned forward, and spoke in a voice even louder than when he had argued with Lao Zhou earlier.

What does it mean to directly buy up 10% of the shares?

This means that someone is optimistic about our rice! It means that there is still money outside willing to invest in us!

"Old Zhou, you were just saying you didn't have enough R&D funding, and now the money's here!"

Old Zhou, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, slammed his phone back on the table, pushed up his glasses, and his face remained ashen.

"It's a good thing that funds are coming in, but it's too early to judge whether the major shareholders with unclear sources are a blessing or a curse!"

What if it's a competitor making a hostile takeover attempt? What if it's foreign capital trying to disrupt things?

"His 10% shareholding already exceeds mine and Mr. Li's, giving him voting rights at the shareholders' meeting!"

"What's wrong with voting rights? Voting rights are for voting, not for vetoing! We can talk about his thoughts face-to-face; it's better than just staring at each other here!"

"You make it sound so easy..."

Old Zhou's voice suddenly stopped.

He suddenly realized that everyone, from the CTO to the row of long-time shareholders behind him, had a look of joy on their faces, as if they had escaped a desperate situation.

They desperately need good news.

For the past six months, rice has been struggling due to chip shortages, with its stock price hovering at a low level. Production capacity has been halved, orders have been lost, and R&D funding has been repeatedly cut, causing morale to plummet.

The appearance of this mysterious shareholder, regardless of who he is or what his purpose is, is, at least for this moment, like a rope falling from the sky and being thrown into a nearly bottomless well.

Everyone was looking up at the rope; some were eager to try, some were uneasy, and some were silently calculating. But no one turned their attention to the previously hotly debated chips and supply chain anymore.

"Who exactly is this person?" someone asked in a low voice, but no one could answer.

All eyes turned back to the head of the conference table.

Tian Jun sat there, his hands still crossed on the table, but his fingers had unconsciously clenched.

Unlike the others, he didn't show any excitement or wariness on his face, but the emotions churning inside him were more intense than anyone else present.

Ten percent of the shareholders are new. This means that rice has new funds, new possibilities, and new room for maneuver.

The words "rice car" were reawakened in his mind!

Building cars is not a pipe dream; it requires money.

The money might be coming now.