Chapter 3: The Great Net Unfolds

The group gathered at Deer Park well past midnight, listening to the Christmas bells and exchanging gifts. Only then did Gu Cheng, with impeccable care, escort Dong Jie and Liu Feifei back to the hotel where their film crew was staying.

The next morning, as Liu Feifei woke from her hangover, Gu Cheng had already flown back to Qiantang.

“Legend Entertainment” and “Dingdang Network” had been established for fifteen months, while the newly spun-off companies like “Alipay” generally hadn’t yet reached six months in existence. Thus, Gu Cheng had no intention of fussing over the annual company party.

Back in Qiantang, Gu Cheng consulted with his cousin. They decided to increase the year-end performance bonuses and hand out generous red envelopes to everyone. Ordinary employees with outstanding performance would receive tens of thousands of yuan, more than enough to inspire their gratitude.

Only the heavy hitters, like Lei Jun who was recruited externally, required a cut of the company’s net profit as incentive. Another exceptional case was Gan Jiawei, who led the “Ground Promotion Iron Army” in carving out a market for Alipay—a true contributor deserving of an extra hefty reward. Thus, these few individuals’ year-end earnings often exceeded one million yuan.

In early 2002, such treatment was unparalleled domestically. Except for online gaming companies, nearly all other internet enterprises struggled just to survive.

Even Alibaba, which later rose to great prominence, was said by its founder Jack Ma to have experienced a similar ordeal: out of over two hundred employees, only the “Eighteen Arhats” and a few core members remained; the rest either couldn’t find new jobs or felt trapped in the internet industry, unable to transition to traditional sectors. Those with the ability to switch, especially middle and lower management, had all left.

After awarding the benefits, Gu Cheng held a small private gathering with several top executives to review the situation.

Gan Jiawei had worked tirelessly for a year, rising from a grassroots sales elite to regional manager, district director, and then national director. He helped Legend Entertainment push the initial “Internet Café Owner Recharge System” to tens of thousands of cafes nationwide—a contribution not to be understated. As a result, Gu Cheng had recently appointed him as Marketing Director (CMO) of Alipay, recognizing his steady, grassroots rise and rewarding him with a six-figure annual income.

This sales prodigy, who had wasted twelve years at Huaxia Petroleum earning just 2,000 yuan a month before switching jobs, had ascended to the pinnacle of his previously imaginable life in just fifteen months.

Though Gu Cheng earned at least a hundred times more, Gan Jiawei was deeply grateful, fully loyal, and unwavering in following Gu Cheng’s directives.

At the New Year’s banquet, he naturally earned an invitation, where he could drink and discuss cross-departmental cooperation strategies with Gu Cheng, Pan Jieying, and Lei Jun.

Gu Cheng preferred the roundtable atmosphere, which dissolved hierarchical distinctions and suited a flat management structure.

He warmly inquired, “Old Gan, update General Lei on Alipay’s promotion. This concerns how quickly our Security Guard and antivirus software can reach the core Legend players.”

“Certainly, President Gu.” Gan Jiawei, vibrant and alert, pulled a report from his old-fashioned briefcase. But before unfolding it, he recited the year’s data fluently, clearly having memorized it.

“In the second half of last year, Alipay proudly exceeded its promotion targets. Initially, in June, you set a goal of one million MAC-bound users by year’s end—matching Peter Thiel’s PayPal’s first-half US numbers.

But after Sun Zhengyi’s equity-backed financing entered in September, we offered greater incentives coupled with the operations team’s round-the-clock creative promotions. By December 31, we had surpassed two million users!

More precisely, two million distinct bank cards linked to unique ID numbers—no duplicates or multiple accounts per person. Behind this number stand two million living, traceable individuals whose personal information is under company control.

According to recent inquiries at the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology, as of December, China’s internet population was roughly 35 to 40 million. Thus, we have converted at least 5% of the nation’s internet users into Alipay users, predominantly from the relatively affluent group—since 75% of binding occurred via personal laptops, which are only affordable to high purchasing power individuals.

Next, to broaden Alipay’s user base, we must lift the MAC address binding restriction. Most remaining internet users are mobile and lack a fixed computer. As for the payment security risks this entails, that’s up to General Lei to handle.”

Gan Jiawei’s final remark deftly shifted responsibility to Lei Jun.

Clearing his throat, Lei Jun asked, “Does Alipay’s data show how many of these two million users are Legend players?”

The question was obscure. As a traditional marketer less adept with data analysis, Gan Jiawei fumbled through the report before stammering out numbers:

“Uh, there is such data. Currently, about 850,000 of the two million are long-term Legend players, evidenced by at least three recharge records. If we include casual players who have purchased at least one recharge card, the number reaches 1.5 million—likely reflecting that successful laptop-owning professionals have less gaming time.

Among all Alipay accounts, at least 60% have spent money purchasing in-game equipment, with half of those spending over 500 yuan cumulatively. This shows their motivation as hardcore players, just lacking time to level up.”

Lei Jun quickly calculated and turned to Gu Cheng: “Gu, currently, Legend has over three million long-term paying players, with more than one million spending at least one card monthly. Compared to this, Alipay’s coverage is much smaller.

If we only provide the free ‘Alipay Antivirus’ to users bound to Alipay accounts, while most Alipay account theft problems can be solved, the security of Legend players’ in-game equipment remains unprotected.”

Gu Cheng tapped his knuckles rhythmically on the table, pondering Lei Jun’s point. “What do you propose?”

Lei Jun smiled knowingly and laid out his strategy: “I think we should separate the anti-malware and gray pigeon detection tools from the full antivirus software. The anti-malware and gray pigeon removal tool can be bundled free with any computer that has the Legend client installed.

The antivirus software, however, will be available to Alipay users during registration with two activation codes, allowing installation on up to two devices. Others can download the antivirus but cannot activate or update virus definitions without codes.”

This idea offered tiered protection for Alipay and Legend players, recognizing the higher security priority of the former.

Gu Cheng was naturally familiar with such strategies.

Even if someone suggested mobile security tokens now, he wouldn’t be surprised—though China Mobile and Unicom were not yet robust enough to offer many value-added services.

“I agree in principle,” Gu Cheng said, “but are you sure this won’t antagonize other domestic antivirus companies? My initial caution was to avoid a full-scale industry war.”

Lei Jun, confident, replied, “Gu, I’m not boasting. If you did this, foreign giants like Norton or Kaspersky and local competitors would be wary. But with me handling the negotiations and your authorization, I guarantee the 20% equity you gave me will be well worth it.”

Pan Jieying and Gan Jiawei listened nervously to Lei Jun’s audacious words, worried that Gu Cheng’s youthful spirit might be offended.

At least Pan Jieying herself felt uneasy.

Yet Gu Cheng’s response was unexpectedly open and straightforward: “Fine, what’s the problem? Professionals do professional work. I’m no expert in antivirus software and don’t intend to spend energy running that business. It’s just a tool to safeguard my core business. If you have good ideas, go ahead and implement them.”

Gu Cheng’s sole concern was payment security for content e-commerce—preventing his users’ accounts from being stolen. The antivirus market’s profits were negligible in his eyes.

In that moment, Lei Jun sensed Gu Cheng’s genuine delegation of authority over this domain.

“Alright, we’ll launch it nationwide for download within a few days. But we still need ground promoters to visit every internet café owner, sign new agreements, and assist with installation on-site.”

The new agreement Lei Jun mentioned was a remnant of the “Internet Café Owner Distributor Incentive System” Pan Jieying had discussed with her cousin last month.

Since café owners could receive free antivirus licenses covering hundreds of machines by simply opening an Alipay account, some sales targets had to be imposed to prevent excessive windfalls. The internal consensus at Legend Entertainment was that, based on café size, owners must guarantee monthly sales of at least five yuan per machine in Legend recharge cards and two yuan in Dingdang Network’s audio-visual or book products to qualify for the free antivirus.

In other words, a café with 100 machines must sell roughly 20 recharge cards and 10 CDs or books monthly. This target was easily achievable for now. If ordinary users increasingly adopted Alipay themselves, bypassing café owners for recharge, the distributors’ role would eventually end.

Gu Cheng estimated that within three to four years, more than half of internet users would still not habitually use Alipay, so café owners would not feel much pain or resist Alipay’s marketing strategy.

...

After the annual meeting, Gu Cheng and the executives promptly implemented the new policies the next day.

Over five million professional antivirus and security guard copies would be installed within a month across 30,000 internet cafés nationwide.

Two million Alipay users and over three million Legend players without Alipay accounts would receive this “free” gift on their personal computers.

At least 20% of China’s internet population was quietly being drawn into Gu Cheng’s grand network.

A vast web was slowly unfolding.