Chapter Forty: Ideals Once Held
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Paul, once an employee in Breakthrough’s Agency Division and Michael’s closest school friend, was now the director of Yellow Lantern’s Advertising Department.
Back then, the two of them had joined Breakthrough together, carrying the same dreams. They had started from nothing, worked through countless sleepless nights, and watched the company move from a two-story building into the most prosperous district in the city.
But when the Agency Division was first established and they competed for the director’s position, Paul lost to Michael by the narrowest of margins. In a fit of anger, he resigned and jumped ship to a major corporation.
After several years of struggling in the corporate world, Paul had acquired plenty of new skills—and plenty of new temper. When he changed jobs again, he chose Yellow Lantern, Breakthrough’s longtime rival at the same level.
Although Yellow Lantern’s software was similar in type to Breakthrough’s, its audience was entirely different. And after Yellow Lantern’s MCN agency became independent, Paul naturally could not compete with those true entertainment-industry agents in terms of connections. In the end, all he managed to become was the director of Advertising.
Fortunately, at least that department was entirely under Paul’s control. It might not have been given much importance, but unlike at a major corporation, he was not obstructed at every turn.
Michael shook his head. “I tried so hard to persuade you not to leave, but you insisted. The two of us worked together better than anyone.”
They were sitting at a roadside barbecue stall, an old establishment that had been there for more than a decade. When they were young, they had often come here to talk nonsense late into the night. Now, even though they had both successfully risen through the ranks and reached far loftier positions, they had never forgotten this little place that had once been so familiar.
After several rounds of drinks, both men were slightly drunk. Setting aside their identities as rivals, they still shared more than twenty years of friendship.
Paul gave a disdainful snort. “Oh, please! What was I supposed to stay for? To become your lackey? Wang Tianxia looked down on me. What good would staying have done me?
“We agreed that the position would be decided entirely by performance, but in the end, my results were clearly better than yours! Then he personally went out and brought in business, and credited it to you. Be honest with yourself—could you have beaten me otherwise?”
Michael picked up his glass and clinked it against Paul’s. He did not take offense at the insult.
“You know perfectly well why President Wang didn’t choose you. We both knew it from the beginning.
“To a boss, someone obedient matters far more than someone capable. You could do the best work in the world, but if you weren’t of one mind with him, if you kept straying farther and farther from the path he wanted, how could he possibly tolerate you?”
“I was standing by my professional ideals! I had ideas, and I had the drive. I could make the company better, so I went ahead and did it. And I succeeded. What did I do wrong?”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You succeeded. But now, it’s Breakthrough—not you—that’s closing in on the industry giants.”
Paul swallowed all the words in his throat.
Michael was right.
Winners were celebrated; losers were forgotten.
When Paul had left Breakthrough, he had been consumed by resentment. He had steeled himself to fight his former employer to the bitter end, determined to win the biggest contracts, steal away Breakthrough’s largest client, and make Wang Tianxia regret ever looking down on him.
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But now, Breakthrough was the one flourishing, while he was little more than a stray dog.
If their positions had been reversed, Paul could have continued holding his head high and clinging to his “ideals.” But he was middle-aged now. He was no longer the boy who had fought merely for the sake of pride.
“Sometimes I really feel as though even God is on his side.”
Michael gave a rare nod. “President Wang truly is extraordinary.”
When Wang Tianxia had proposed opening up the food-delivery niche, no one—not even Michael—had possessed much confidence in the idea.
Michael himself had gone to Wang Tianxia and tried to persuade him that giving every streamer certified as a delivery worker an action camera merely for completing basic tasks was far too reckless an investment.
But Wang Tianxia had shouldered all the pressure alone and made them do it.
Now, the food-delivery niche was booming. Nearly every delivery worker making headlines online had Breakthrough’s short videos circulating prominently alongside the news. Countless people wanted a share of the market, only to discover that the proactive delivery-worker streamers had already signed exclusive rights agreements with Breakthrough in exchange for a single action camera.
Naturally, the streamers were not forbidden from posting videos on other platforms. They simply could not post the same videos as those on Breakthrough, nor could they use the account names registered on Breakthrough’s platform.
Everyone had long since grown accustomed to the benefits and traffic Breakthrough provided. Who would be willing to start from scratch somewhere else?
Paul sighed as well. “You really can’t help but respect him. He can spot the next breakout niche in the overwhelming tide of information, and he dares to say, ‘Follow me, and you can’t go wrong.’”
But that was not entirely true.
Michael knew very well that Wang Tianxia did not actually possess an omniscient view from above, nor did every impulse of his yield the desired result.
More often, the niches they painstakingly developed required enormous investment yet failed to stir even the slightest ripple. All their effort and funding went to waste.
What was truly remarkable was that no matter how many times they failed, President Wang never shifted the blame onto the people doing the work. As long as Michael had been following Wang Tianxia’s instructions, Wang had never once berated him.
That was why Michael was utterly devoted to Breakthrough.
And why he was utterly devoted to President Wang.
“No, I just don’t understand.” Paul remained unconvinced. “Where does he get all that money? He invests in whatever he wants. If he fails once, there’s a second time. If he fails ten times, there’s an eleventh! Does Breakthrough really make that much money?”
“A lot of that money comes out of President Wang’s own pocket!” Michael poured himself another glass. He was no bootlicker, nor was he someone who blindly fawned over his superior without distinguishing right from wrong. He followed President Wang so devotedly because Wang truly possessed an extraordinary charisma.
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“In all these years, I’ve hardly ever seen President Wang take dividends from the company. Much of the time, he personally seeks financing from overseas. His only hope is to make Breakthrough better and better, until it can stand shoulder to shoulder with the true industry giants.
“He has spent all these years without a wife or children, devoting himself entirely to the company. Everything he does is genuinely for its sake.”
“Tch! I think you’ve been completely brainwashed.”
Never mind. Even Paul could hear how pointless that sounded.
Over more than a decade, Wang Tianxia had taken a college student who had once been too stingy to eat instant noodles from a cup and guided him step by step into the heart of the most prosperous metropolis, where he drove a luxury car worth hundreds of thousands and lived in a spacious apartment overlooking the river running through downtown.
Who wouldn’t be brainwashed by that?
“The food-delivery craze will probably last for several more months. Maybe after this battle, Yellow Lantern will really end up being acquired by you.”
On the first day back at work, Paul had already been cursed out by his superior from head to toe. It was not directed at him personally. Rather, Yellow Lantern had been suppressed so fiercely by Breakthrough that it could not even claim the smallest share of the booming food-delivery niche.
The entire company was shrouded in gloom. Everyone knew that at a moment like this, a single defeat could trigger Yellow Lantern’s complete collapse.
Michael, however, did not care. “So what? Come back! The two of us can work together again.”
Paul’s hand paused as he raised his glass. Then it paused again. In the end, he said nothing.
If this had happened ten years ago, he would certainly have leaped to his feet and cursed, shouting that a good horse never returned to old grass.
But now, with the burdens of a wife and child on his shoulders, why else would he have invited Michael to dinner if not for those words?
“Let’s finish it.”
Michael raised his glass and struck it against Paul’s. “Finish it. I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”