After Divorce, I Can Hear the Future

With Mobike’s financing concluded, Lu Liang was about to leave. However, before heading out, he noticed that there weren’t many people left around Shen Peng. Out of courtesy, he decided to go over and say hello.

“Lu Liang, I thought you wouldn’t show up,” Shen Peng greeted him warmly, exuding friendliness.

Lu Liang smiled. “Mr. Shen, it was too crowded earlier, so I didn’t want to disturb you. Now that it’s quieter, I thought I’d come over.”

Although the event was for Mobike’s financing, plenty of other entrepreneurs seeking investments had sneaked in. After all, how often do so many bigwigs gather in one place? There was always a chance someone might catch an investor’s attention and land a few million in funding.

As one of the titans of venture capital in China, Shen Peng was constantly approached by people trying to curry favor, making this moment of relative calm a rarity.

Shen Peng laughed heartily. “Mr. Lu, that almost sounds like a complaint.”

“If you see it that way, Mr. Shen, then there’s nothing more I can say,” Lu Liang replied with a calm smile. His approach was purely out of respect for a senior figure, but he also had a question in mind. If Shen Peng viewed him as just another sycophant, there wouldn’t be much point in continuing the conversation.

Adjusting his glasses and squinting slightly, Shen Peng’s demeanor shifted, becoming more serious. “How’s Xiao Tang doing lately?”

“Xiao Tang?” Lu Liang was puzzled.

Shen Peng explained, “Tang Caidie. I recruited her into Sequoia years ago, and she worked with me for a few years. When I moved to Beijing, she stayed in Magic City. The next thing I heard, she had resigned.”

“She’s doing well. With Ms. Tang managing my company, my workload feels much lighter.”

Lu Liang couldn’t help but scrutinize Shen Peng, who wasn’t even fifty yet. Tang Caidie, on the other hand, was 37. Although she had some wrinkles, her youthful beauty was still evident.

Noticing Lu Liang’s wandering thoughts, Shen Peng’s expression darkened, and he coughed sharply to interrupt any inappropriate speculation.

Snapping back to reality, Lu Liang smiled and asked, “Mr. Shen, there’s something I don’t understand. May I ask for your guidance?”

“Go ahead.”

By now, Shen Peng’s initial friendliness had faded. He had spotted a resemblance between Lu Liang and someone he wasn’t particularly fond of: Zhu Hu from Jinsha Ventures.

Both Shen Peng and Zhu Hu were regarded as the “Big and Little Kings” of the investment world. Although they were good friends, that didn’t stop Shen Peng from disliking Zhu Hu’s brash personality and fondness for off-color jokes that often left him in awkward situations.

Humbly, Lu Liang asked, “Why did Sequoia sign a legal agreement with Mobike?”

Li Bing had arrogantly claimed that he had forced Sequoia into a corner, leaving them with no choice but to invest exclusively in Mobike. However, Lu Liang only half-believed it. No matter how capable Li Bing was, he couldn’t compare to Shen Peng—they weren’t even on the same level.

Even someone like Lei Jun would address Shen Peng as “Senior.”

Over the past twenty years, if there were a list of the most outstanding venture capitalists, Shen Peng would rank second only because no one would dare to claim first.

With Sequoia’s immense resources, they could have easily pressured the number-one and number-two companies in the market to accept their terms, allowing Sequoia to sit back and enjoy the competition. There was no need to bet exclusively on Mobike and leave themselves without alternatives.

With a faint smile, Shen Peng replied, “Mr. Lu, if I told you that Sequoia’s investment in Mobike is merely part of a process, not the end goal, would you believe me?”

“If you say so, Mr. Shen, I’ll believe it,” Lu Liang said, his mind racing. A process? Whose process?

Suddenly, he recalled the “thousand-group war” of a few years ago. Meituan was probably Shen Peng’s largest recent investment. Compared to the tens of millions of dollars invested in Meituan, the money put into Mobike was a drop in the ocean.

Investments often come with bet-on agreements. For Sequoia to back Mobike exclusively, Mobike must have offered terms that risked ceding control if they lost.

Coupled with Shen Peng’s remark that the Mobike investment was just part of a process, it occurred to Lu Liang that Sequoia might have already arranged for Meituan to take over Mobike.

Once Meituan acquired Mobike, Shen Peng’s shares in Meituan would significantly appreciate. After all, Meituan was Shen Peng’s core project in recent years.

“Thank you, Mr. Shen,” Lu Liang said with genuine humility. This financing event had been immensely enlightening.

True industry leaders didn’t just treat an industry as a playing field—they treated it as a chessboard, where even key players were merely pawns.

Li Bing used Mobike to prepare the ground for NIO. Shen Peng went even further, securing a buyer right after Mobike’s Series A round.

Shen Peng, surprised by how quickly Lu Liang connected the dots, remarked, “You’re going to be an excellent investor.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Shen,” Lu Liang replied with a smile. He still had more questions, but Shen Peng was clearly ready to leave.

After a long look at Lu Liang, Shen Peng gave him a stern glare and said, “Wouldn’t it be a bit improper for me to ask you for your contact information?”

“How could that be? I was just processing what you said and didn’t react in time,” Lu Liang explained hastily, both amused and exasperated.

They exchanged contact information, and Shen Peng prepared to leave. Before walking away, he suddenly remarked, “Zhu Hu from Jinsha is no good.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lu Liang replied, puzzled. Why did Shen Peng’s smile seem so peculiar as he said this?

Just as he was about to ask, Shen Peng was already gone.

“Next Friday’s OFO financing… looks like it won’t be peaceful either.”

Lu Liang thought about it for a while but couldn’t figure it out, so he decided not to dwell on it.

“Bring it on. Let’s see who’s really the good guy here,” he muttered to himself.

After bidding farewell to Li Bing, Lu Liang prepared to leave when Hu Weiwei suddenly approached him quickly.

“Mr. Lu, I’m so sorry,” she said, looking guilty.

“Ms. Hu, there’s no need to apologize. If I were in your position, I’d do the same. It’s perfectly understandable,” Lu Liang replied with a smile.

“Thank you. Are you leaving now? Shall I walk you out?” Hu Weiwei offered, relieved that Lu Liang didn’t seem upset.

“There’s no need for that. You still have plenty of guests to attend to here,” Lu Liang said politely.

“Alright then. Have a safe trip, Mr. Lu,” she replied.

“Alright, bye-bye.”

Lu Liang suddenly felt a twinge of pity for Hu Weiwei. She was being played by two, perhaps even three men, all controlling her fate.

The Mobike she had built with her own hands and poured her efforts into likely wouldn’t belong to her in the end. Sure, she might walk away with an enormous fortune, but what would that matter?

With Mobike, Hu Weiwei was the image of a domineering and glamorous CEO. Without it, she would just be a rich woman—nothing more.

Leaving the sixth-floor banquet hall, Lu Liang headed downstairs with Wen Chao. From a distance, he spotted Fang Shiyu sitting on a sofa, lost in thought.

When Fang Shiyu saw him approaching, he quickly stood up, his posture straight as an iron rod. “Mr. Lu, are you done for the day?”

Yesterday, Chen Jinchun had taught him a lot, including how to address Lu Liang when others were around. At the very least, he needed to call him “Mr. Lu” in front of outsiders.

Lu Liang nodded slightly and turned to Wen Chao. “Xiao Wen, head back to the office and hand the subscription documents to Ms. Tang.”

Wen Chao nodded and left. Lu Liang put his arm around his cousin’s shoulders and sat down beside him, smiling as he asked, “How do you feel about today?”

“A bit bored,” Fang Shiyu responded bluntly, his voice low.

He had been sitting in the lobby all afternoon. Since he didn’t enjoy playing with his phone, he had spent the time staring into space.

“And?” Lu Liang asked, suppressing a laugh.

“And a bit uncomfortable,” Fang Shiyu said as he tugged at his collar.

Chen Jinchun had bought him a few suits. Although they fit well, his overdeveloped chest muscles stretched the shirt fabric tight, making it bulge awkwardly.

Lu Liang couldn’t help but burst out laughing and patted him on the shoulder. “Alright, let’s go. We’ll buy you some new clothes. From now on, you don’t need to wear suits.”

He hadn’t even required formal attire for the office, so who knew what was going through Chen Jinchun’s mind when she dressed his cousin like some kind of mob enforcer?

“Okay.” Fang Shiyu’s honest, hearty smile contrasted sharply with his imposing physique.

On the way out, Lu Liang stopped at a Nike store and bought him a few pairs of athletic pants and some polo shirts.

Only then did he realize it wasn’t entirely Chen Jinchun’s fault. At 189 centimeters tall and weighing 206 pounds, Fang Shiyu’s massive frame stood out no matter what he wore.

His appetite didn’t help either—he could down five bowls of rice in one sitting. With a build like his, staying low-profile simply wasn’t an option.

No matter how they dressed him, he looked like a tough guy from the underworld. So they gave up trying and opted for comfortable clothing instead.

“Brother, are we heading home?” Fang Shiyu asked, now in his new outfit and finally able to breathe freely. Though he wasn’t good with words, he quietly committed Lu Liang’s kindness to memory.

“Home… no, let’s go to Lane 306 on Changle Road,” Lu Liang said, changing his mind mid-sentence.

He had planned to head home but suddenly remembered that Zhang Qian’s restaurant was opening today. She had even messaged him about it last night, but he’d completely forgotten because of Mobike’s financing event.

Fang Shiyu set the GPS. With rush-hour traffic, they didn’t arrive at Changle Road until 7 p.m.

The pedestrian street was bustling with people, so they had to park and walk the rest of the way.

Walking beside Lu Liang, Fang Shiyu’s towering figure created an oppressive aura. Pedestrians instinctively gave them a one-meter-wide berth as they passed.

Lu Liang joked, “Shiyu, with you around, I don’t even need to hire a bodyguard.”

“Brother, I can be your bodyguard,” Fang Shiyu said earnestly.

“Well then, I’ll be relying on you to protect me from now on,” Lu Liang replied with a laugh, clearly not taking it seriously.

“Got it,” Fang Shiyu answered with a solemn nod.

As they talked, the familiar tune of Good Days played in the background.

At the intersection ahead, a new fast-food restaurant called Hao Shi Yuan (Good Eats Garden) had just opened. Zhang Qian was busy inside, wearing a tailored apron over her blouse and slacks, moving briskly between tasks.

The restaurant had about five or six employees and over twenty tables, each seating four people. Nearly every seat was occupied, suggesting that business was booming on its opening day.

Still, it was hard to say if the success was sustainable or if it was simply due to the opening-day promotions. After all, there was a big banner outside advertising “Half-Price for the First Three Days,” plus a free bottle of soda with each meal.

“Hungry?” Lu Liang asked, glancing at his cousin.

“Yes,” Fang Shiyu nodded.

It wasn’t that he was sparing with words—this was just his personality. Lu Liang was used to it. “Alright, let’s grab something to eat.”

As they entered the restaurant, they brushed past Zhang Qian, who was too busy clearing plates and wiping tables to notice Lu Liang.

He smiled but didn’t interrupt her. Instead, he grabbed a tray for himself and another for Fang Shiyu.

After witnessing his cousin’s appetite yesterday, Lu Liang knew that one tray wouldn’t be enough to hold all the food he needed.

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