Chapter 73: Precaution Before Disaster

Lu Yu returned home with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, finding the two women had already come back from shopping. They’d spent the whole day covering the parts of the city they hadn’t explored yesterday, and now the living room was filled with their laughter as they posed with their new clothes.

Lu Yu couldn’t help but smile. “Do you want me to set up a walk-in closet just for your clothes?”

Qin Xiaomian immediately set down the dress in her hands, her eyes shining brightly. “Really? You can do that?”

Lu Yu rolled his eyes. “Did you pack any sportswear for school? Don’t think you can skip running just because you sometimes stay on campus. The track’s huge.”

Qin Xiaomian’s gaze flickered guiltily. “I did pack some.”

But Lu Yu could tell from her expression that she was fibbing. “Remember to take it with you when you go back to school in two days. Don’t forget.”

Qin Xiaomian pouted, deciding to ignore Lu Yu for now, as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

Lu Yu turned to Shi Zixuan. “Have you two eaten?”

Shi Zixuan shook her head. No, they hadn’t.

Lu Yu pulled out his phone and ordered takeout, settling on the sofa to watch them fuss over their clothes. Occasionally, the two would ask his opinion on an outfit, and he’d nod and offer a few casual remarks.

After dinner, the three of them took a stroll by the small artificial lake downstairs before returning home to wash up and sleep.

The next morning, while the two women were still indulging in a lie-in, Lu Yu left for the company with his laptop. Two teams had finished their tasks the previous day, and he needed to assign them new ones.

He sent out the new assignments to the team leaders and then resumed working on the code he hadn’t managed to finish yesterday.

As Yunhan Technology’s team of programmers continued to grow, the tasks Lu Yu set for them became increasingly challenging. The initial simple jobs had merely served to help the team gel, but now it was time to raise the bar.

Sometimes, Lu Yu would share his programming thought process with the team, encouraging them to follow his approach when writing code. Whenever they hit a stumbling block, they’d come to him for guidance.

Immersed in this world of code with a group of straight-talking, likely-to-go-bald engineers, time slipped away almost unnoticed.

Before he knew it, September had arrived.

The two women had already been back at school for several days, and Lu Yu, busy at the company, hadn’t seen them off. Particularly for Qin Xiaomian, who was juggling the start of two schools at once, things were especially hectic.

Zhang Kexin and Qianqian had also returned to Sichuan Conservatory. After the training camp ended about a month ago, they’d each gone home, only to return now as the new term began. It was Chen Xiaofei who mentioned this to Lu Yu over the phone.

Lu Yu hadn’t been home for three days, spending his time coding in the office and sleeping on the office sofa when exhausted. Thankfully, the admin had provided a thin blanket, so he didn’t have to worry about catching a chill at night.

Today, Lu Yu decided to go home for a change; three days without fresh clothes made him feel uncomfortable. Even though he hadn’t exercised, he still worried about feeling grimy.

After a hot shower at home, he lay on his spacious, soft bed, feeling a comfort beyond words. He hadn’t been lying down long before sleepiness overtook him, and he drifted into slumber.

When he woke, he stared at the ceiling for a good while before his senses fully returned. Reaching for his phone, he checked the time—7 p.m.

He washed his face with cold water to wake up completely. Going downstairs, he ordered food through a delivery app, grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge, and sat on the sofa to check his emails.

First, he reviewed the daily reports from Yunhan Technology’s teams, to get a sense of their progress.

There wasn’t much from Liu Shichang’s side; as usual, matters concerning the Extragalactic Nebula project were few. However, Zhou Jing had sent several emails. She and the rest of the investment department had already set out days ago to inspect the small special effects companies Lu Yu had earmarked. They’d already completed detailed inspections of two companies; the emails laid out their findings, current situations, development histories, and, in particular, the state of their effects teams.

Lu Yu read Zhou Jing’s emails carefully and was very satisfied. After all, she’d worked in investment banking before; she carried out his intentions meticulously and thoroughly, including almost every piece of information that might be useful.

There were also work reports from Deng Qiang on the company’s operations, as well as the financial statement for August.

The Pink-White-Black Cosmetics Company hadn’t expanded its production lines recently; almost all its funds had been poured into raw material purchases. They’d bought a large quantity of raw materials for processing and warehoused them in anticipation of next year’s overseas market expansion.

In August, they’d had three rounds of sales. Two types of face masks had sold a combined twelve million boxes, generating 2.028 billion yuan in revenue. Two kinds of shower gel sold six million bottles, with revenue of 1.854 billion yuan. The “Wuqi Liquid” had also increased in sales, with three million bottles sold, bringing in 3.057 billion yuan.

Total revenue for the month of August was 6.939 billion yuan, up 2.038 billion from July. The increase was entirely due to the anti-wrinkle product “Wuqi Liquid,” which, thanks to its high price, had driven the surge.

In just five short months, not only the face mask market but the whole domestic cosmetics market—worth several hundred billion—had been roiled by Pink-White-Black. Even though the company had only released four products, and one of their moisturizing creams wasn’t selling that well, they had created a tremendous stir in the industry.

Other cosmetics companies understood that the reason Pink-White-Black hadn’t increased production for three straight months was due to raw material constraints. Some medicinal herbs had never been cultivated on a large scale before; even with strong market demand, it would take time to plant and grow them—output couldn’t rise overnight.

Once Pink-White-Black solved its raw material bottleneck, it would inevitably continue to eat into the market. The survival space for other brands would shrink, and competition would only become fiercer.

These concerns were not unfounded. Still, Pink-White-Black’s market share was not yet overwhelming. The impact was mainly felt in the hydrating and whitening sector, with little change in skin care and maintenance products.

Even though the sales numbers were impressive, they included both their original customers and some who previously rarely bought cosmetics. In this sense, Pink-White-Black had also indirectly boosted the entire cosmetics market—a feat that deserved the industry’s collective thanks! Lu Yu chuckled quietly to himself at the thought.

Staring at the eye-popping sales figures, Lu Yu tapped his knee with a finger, frowning in contemplation. After a while, he found Deng Qiang’s number and dialed.

Deng Qiang was watching TV with his wife and young son—who was clamoring for cartoons—when he took Lu Yu’s call. With an apologetic glance at his wife, Deng Qiang went to the study, closed the door, and answered.

“Hello, President Lu.”

Lu Yu got straight to the point. “I’ve reviewed the August financials. Old Deng, any thoughts?”

Deng Qiang was a bit puzzled. “What do you mean, President Lu?”

Lu Yu sighed. “We’ve risen too fast, too soon. As the saying goes, ‘the tallest tree in the forest catches the wind.’”

Deng Qiang had already sensed this, but there wasn’t much he could do. “I know. I’ve restructured the company several times, trying to minimize internal issues as much as possible.”

Lu Yu knew about Deng Qiang’s efforts: tightening the reward and punishment system, plugging gaps, and managing risk. Still, he felt it wasn’t enough.

“We’re already attracting envy. Next year, when we make a killing overseas, people will resent us even more. As the saying goes, ‘the accomplished must help the world,’ Old Deng.”

Deng Qiang considered this. “You mean charity?”

Lu Yu nodded. “Yes, it’s only a matter of time. Instead of being forced into it by public opinion, we should take the initiative.”

Deng Qiang asked, “Do you have a specific plan in mind?”

Lu Yu replied, “Nothing special; I just trust ourselves more than anyone else when it comes to philanthropy in this country.”

Deng Qiang caught his meaning and smiled. “So what do you want me to do?”

Lu Yu explained, “I believe in helping people in crisis, not in poverty; helping the struggling, not the lazy. We’re already building our own planting bases—choose locations in underdeveloped regions from now on.”

“Some remote mountainous areas would be ideal; certain medicinal herbs grow best there. For each region, build a large-scale planting base with a processing center. Apart from our own crops, encourage locals to plant as well, and buy their harvests at market price.”

“This will push up costs a little, but it’s negligible. Our profits are high enough not to worry about it.”

Deng Qiang immediately grasped the idea. “That’s a good plan. Not only does it bring investment to poor areas, but it also promotes local development.”

“At the very least, it will raise incomes and create jobs—planting bases and processing centers need plenty of workers.”

Lu Yu continued, “That’s right. I thought of this because of my own hometown. Besides, for every planting base and processing center, we’ll fund at least five schools locally, including all hardware facilities.”

“School construction must be flawless. Set up a dedicated department to oversee this. The cost can be high, but quality must be impeccable. Every penny spent must be accounted for, down to the last detail.”

“Randomly assign staff from other departments to secretly inspect these projects; if there’s any wrongdoing, report it directly to the authorities—no tolerance whatsoever.”

“I’ll also send other people to conduct unannounced inspections, so make this clear when you set up the department.”

Deng Qiang realized the importance of this. Any mishap with school construction would spark a public outcry. He solemnly promised, “Understood, President Lu. I’ll personally oversee the department and ensure every cent is used as intended.”

Lu Yu added, “Keep me updated on this department’s work at all times—send me detailed weekly reports by email.”

After giving these instructions, the two chatted idly for a bit before hanging up.

Deng Qiang sat alone in the study, frowning as he considered how to implement the plan. His wife came in, concerned that something might be wrong at the company.

He briefly explained, sighing with emotion. Though Lu Yu’s motives were partly about preventing problems before they arose, to go to such lengths was admirable—willing to increase costs, invest in poor and mountainous regions, and fund schools. That was the mark of a rare entrepreneur.

In truth, Deng Qiang gave Lu Yu too much credit. Not long ago, Lu Yu was just an ordinary man. While he’d changed somewhat, he still couldn’t shake the mentality of a small figure, with all the attendant joys, sorrows, and selfishness.

Of course, he also retained that bit of simplicity and kindness that belonged to the common folk.