Reborn in 2000, starting from the university website

Zhang Lei's voice on the phone was filled with undisguised seriousness.

"Yuhang, we've found the person, but to be honest, this bone is a bit tough to chew."

Bai Yuhang leaned back in his chair, twirling the pen in his hand: "Mr. Zhang, what storms haven't you weathered? Is there anything you find uncomfortable?"

"She comes from a Jewish family in Washington, has a bachelor's degree in economics from Harvard, and an MBA from Harvard Business School." Zhang Lei paused, his tone turning serious. "Most importantly, she is currently the chief of staff for Lawrence Summers, the Treasury Secretary in the Clinton administration. This woman's name is Sheryl Sandberg."

Bai Yuhang stopped spinning his pen.

Sheryl Sandberg.

These six words directly shattered his memories of his past life. She was the future "Queen of Silicon Valley," the true number two figure at META, the mastermind behind the commercialization myth of the social media empire. In his memory, this god-like assistant wouldn't have jumped ship from Google to META, or Facebook, until 2008.

The flapping of her own wings, like a butterfly's wings, led Zhang Lei to dig her out eight years ahead of schedule.

"Yu Hang? Did you hear that?" Zhang Lei saw that there was no response on the other end of the phone and thought that Bai Yu Hang was stunned by this resume. "This woman's background is unfathomable. I'm afraid that our small temple, Qi Hang, can't keep this real god in check."

Bai Yuhang suppressed his elation, his tone remaining calm: "A true god descending to earth needs some offerings. What price did she ask for?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you," Zhang Lei sneered. "It's blatant profiteering. A million-dollar annual salary as a minimum, plus 20% of Facebook stock options. Moreover, she's demanding absolute control over operations in North America. Her exact words were, 'She will never be a puppet of Chinese capital.'"

The sound of a lighter lighting a cigarette came from the other end of the phone.

"Yuhang, these conditions are too much. This isn't a job, it's being treated like royalty. I suggest I ask my friend to find a more obedient agent."

Bai Yuhang chuckled softly.

"Mr. Zhang, an obedient dog can't guard the house. To deal with the hungry wolves of Wall Street, you need to find a fiercer lioness."

Zhang Lei was stunned: "You really intend to agree? Twenty percent of the stock options!"

"Options can be given, but not for free. We need to consider adding a performance-based agreement." Bai Yuhang stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the night view of Zhongguancun. "Before that, could you please arrange for me to get her contact information and email address, Mr. Zhang? I need to call her."

Zhang Lei remained silent for a full half minute on the other end of the phone before finally sighing, "You've got some nerve, kid. Fine, I'll get someone to connect you to the dedicated line right away."

Ten minutes later, the overseas call was connected.

It was early morning in Washington, D.C.

Sheryl Sandberg sat in her office, pondering a new job in Silicon Valley as her boss, Summers, was about to leave.

She viewed the so-called mysterious tycoon from China, a mere eighteen-year-old, on the phone with the scrutiny and arrogance typical of Wall Street elites.

"Mr. Bai, my time is very valuable. I have a closed-door meeting about the adjustment of the Federal Reserve interest rate in ten minutes."

As soon as the call connected, Shirley skipped the most basic pleasantries and immediately launched into a rapid stream of American English. She then rattled off a string of technical terms such as price-to-earnings ratio models, capital asset pricing, and offshore trust structures.

Bai Yuhang listened quietly without interrupting.

"To be honest, for a team of Chinese university students to attempt to disrupt the American social networking ecosystem with a website code that doesn't even have a prototype is, in my opinion, not just wishful thinking, but downright arrogant ignorance." Shirley's tone was sharp and merciless. "The reason I offered such an exorbitant price is because I've assessed it using my professional model, and your project called Facebook won't survive more than a year in Silicon Valley. All the conditions I've offered are nothing more than advance compensation for the potential damage to my resume, or rather, compensation for emotional distress."

On the other end of the phone, Bai Yuhang loosened his tie, shifted to a more comfortable position on the sofa, and responded to her in the same fluent American English.

"Ms. Sandberg, your speech and thinking are indeed very fast, but your vision seems to be stuck in Wall Street of the last century. Your assessment is excellent. However, you seem to have misunderstood one thing," Bai Yuhang said calmly. "I didn't come to you to teach me how to make social products."

Shirley, who had been talking non-stop on the phone, suddenly fell silent.

"Your assessment that my project won't survive a year is because you fundamentally don't understand what a true SNS social loop is." Bai Yuhang's spoken words were calm yet carried a strong penetrating force. "You've been dealing with politicians in Washington for too long, and you're used to looking at reports, data, and policy risks. But in the world of the internet, user relationship chains are the only hard currency."

Shirley sneered: "Anyone can talk theory, Mr. Bai."

"This is not just theory. In China, my company has just surpassed ten million registered users and achieved seamless integration across the entire ecosystem. And all of this was accomplished in just over two months."

Shirley's words of rebuttal caught in her throat.

"Ms. Sandberg, Secretary Summers is about to leave office. How long can you continue to enjoy the political benefits in Washington?" Bai Yuhang ignored her potential long-winded explanation and went straight to the point. "You urgently need a super springboard to prove your commercial monetization capabilities. As far as I know, Google has indeed contacted you, but the position they offer you won't satisfy your ambition to oversee the entire situation."

There was silence on the phone once again.

Bai Yuhang turned to Zhang Qingheng, who was standing next to him staring blankly at his laptop, and instructed him in Chinese: "Seventh Brother, send the link to the test version that just worked and the super administrator account to her email."

Zhang Qingheng quickly put down his laptop and frantically typed on the keyboard, muttering to himself as he checked the English letters.

"What I'm buying for a million dollars is the face you have to deal with Washington politicians and Wall Street capital." Bai Yuhang switched back to fluent American English. "As for how to do social networking and how to get college students all over America addicted to this website, that's my business."

"Arrogant," Shirley sneered.

"Whether it's arrogance or not, you can take a look at the core architecture code and test data I sent you." Bai Yuhang tapped a few times on the keyboard. "I think, with your Harvard economics background, you should be able to understand the business value behind this information flow. If you don't, then this call ends here. My stock options and salary aren't for fools."

"The link has been sent." Bai Yuhang's words were blunt and unvarnished. "Log in. You have five minutes. After you've read it, we'll discuss how much your future contributions are worth."