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

Tian Jun recalled that when he was Zhang Yifan's age, he was still tinkering with second-hand parts in a rented room next to the university town for 800 yuan a month, so poor that he had to break his instant noodles in half to eat.

Back then, nobody thought he could accomplish anything. Everyone said he was delusional, wondering how a poor student could possibly make mobile phones.

What he lacked most at that age was not skills or ideas, but someone who was willing to believe in him.

Now, more than twenty years later, he sits at the head of the conference table, facing a boy who is also eighteen years old.

When he was most isolated and helpless, an eighteen-year-old boy he had never even met pushed a total of 18 billion onto the card table.

"The meeting is adjourned."

He stood up, his voice not loud, but each word steady, drowning out all the noise.

The argument in the meeting room stopped abruptly, like a recording tape being cut off, and the shareholders looked at him with varying expressions.

"That's all for today. Everyone, please go back now. I will handle the matter of the new shareholders, and I will notify you as soon as there are any developments."

The executives exchanged glances, hesitant to speak, but Tian Jun had already gotten up and walked to the window with his back to them, clearly not intending to say anything more.

They packed up and left one after another, the sound of their leather shoes scraping against the floor punctuated by a few low sighs and mutterings.

Vice President Zhou walked to the door, glanced back at Tian Jun's back, hesitated, and finally closed the door.

Only Tian Jun remained in the large conference room.

The overhead fluorescent light cast his long shadow as he stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window onto the empty conference table.

He took out his phone and redialed the number.

After a few busy tones...

The number you dialed is currently busy...

He was blocked.

Tian Jun paused for half a second, then looked down at the blocked number on his phone screen and couldn't help but laugh.

This is definitely not how people in the industry do things.

People in the industry will maintain a minimum level of contact regardless of whether they accept the investment conditions or not. They will not ignore calls, and if they do answer, they will not hang up. If they do hang up, they will not block the caller.

But the boy did it all: hung up the phone, blocked the number, cleanly and efficiently, without any hesitation.

He switched to a backup number, took a deep breath, and dialed again.

The phone rang for a long time, so long that he thought he wouldn't answer it this time.

Then, with a click, the call connected.

It was the same young voice on the other end, this time tinged with anger. Before he could even speak, he fired off a barrage of words: "I said I won't buy financial products, I won't take out loans, I won't sign up for online courses. If you hit me again, I'll..."

"Mr. Zhang, I really am Tian Jun."

"Don't hang up yet, you're already our third-largest shareholder."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the sound of fingers tapping on a screen, probably someone checking shareholder information.

After a while, the voice rang out again, much quieter than before, but still carrying a lingering awkwardness and a hint of barely concealed surprise:

"It really is... I'm sorry, Mr. Tian, ​​I thought someone was impersonating you to commit fraud."

Zhang Yifan held his phone between his ear and shoulder, his hands still flipping through the papers, drawing guide lines on the draft paper as he spoke.

He had just hung up the phone when he casually searched for Tian Jun's photos. Sure enough, he was the man he often saw in the parody video section, the one wearing a dark gray shirt who shouted "Awesome!" at press conferences.

The accented Mandarin spoken on the phone just now was exactly the same as the "awesome" exclamation clipped from the viral video.

He actually answered the call from the founder of the rice brand, then hung up on him thinking he was a scammer and blacklisted him.

Tian Jun briefly explained the company's current predicament over the phone.

With its chip supply stuck and its stock price at a low point, the company is at a crossroads.

Continuing to do OEM work is tantamount to a slow death, and all the senior executives are arguing about what to do next.

He spoke frankly, without embellishing the situation or exaggerating his difficulties to gain sympathy.

After speaking, he paused, as if considering his words, and then asked, "Mr. Zhang, as the company's third-largest shareholder, what are your thoughts on the future of rice?"

"I don't interfere with company decisions. You know more about business than I do. I'm just a high school senior. I'm not good at managing a company, and I won't interfere."

Tian Jun's fingers tightened slightly as he gripped his phone.

"Don't interfere with decision-making" is a polite phrase that all investors use, but he has seen too many people who say they won't interfere but then frantically criticize financial statements behind the scenes.

He was about to say something polite like "I hope you can give me more valuable advice" when the voice on the other end of the phone rang again.

"But... since the mobile phone market is becoming increasingly narrow, and we're being held hostage by others in terms of chips, have you considered switching to another track?"

Tian Jun stopped.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, feeling that his heartbeat was so loud that the whole building could hear it.

He gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles white, his voice low and steady, but a slight tremor at the end betrayed his restraint: "What track?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Zhang Yifan put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked at the old chandelier on the ceiling.

The system said that DaMi would become Chixing Technology's rival. Chixing Technology makes SUVs. If DaMi doesn't make cars, why should it be their rival?

This chain of logic had gone through his mind many times, and in the end, it always pointed to the same answer.

He began, "To build cars."

These two words were clearly pierced into Tian Jun's ears through the phone's receiver.

Tian Jun closed his eyes.

He leaned back in his chair, phone pressed against his ear, the corners of his mouth gradually turning upwards, from a smile to a loud laugh, from silence to sound.

He laughed for several seconds before realizing he was still on a call, and quickly put the phone back to his ear.

This young man is not only rich, bold, and insightful, but more importantly—he is thinking the same thing as himself.

When everyone opposed him, questioned his delusions, and the market scorned him as a mere OEM manufacturer, this 18-year-old shareholder, whom he had never met before, spoke the two words he most wanted to hear across an unknown telephone line.

"Mr. Zhang,"

Tian Jun took a deep breath, trying to calm his voice as much as possible, but the last syllable still couldn't help but rise slightly.

"We have a strategy seminar next month, and I would like to formally invite you to attend."

I will formally propose the car manufacturing plan at the meeting. Don't worry, I'm not asking you to speak or endorse anything; I'm just listening in and giving you some support.

You are the third largest shareholder, and your attitude is very important to us.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. Then the young voice spoke again, the previous impatience and awkwardness gone, simply saying calmly:

"I don't have time before the college entrance exam, I'll talk about it after the exam."

I support your car manufacturing project. Don't wait for my proposal; you can proceed with it. How about this: add me on WeChat. If you need my vote, send me a message beforehand... Don't call anymore; I'm under a lot of academic pressure...