I feel like my brain is starting to grow.

"Yeah, I don't want to go to school anymore."

When Guo Jinglin asked, Chen Ze replied without a moment's hesitation, his tone remarkably calm.

2024 is just too difficult, too cutthroat.

His innate laziness made him want to avoid the struggles of entrepreneurship; he wanted to live out his life happily and thoughtlessly. But that wasn't an option. Entrepreneurship was crucial for him.

The first issue, naturally, was school. He had no desire to attend; even a doctoral degree held little meaning for him now. How, then, could he refuse? After much deliberation, Chen Ze realized that starting a business was the only way to silence his parents while allowing him to take a leave of absence with dignity. If Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg could become world-famous by dropping out to start businesses, why couldn't he? If foreigners could do it, why couldn't a Chinese person?

Furthermore, while he wanted to live the reasonable life of a "second-generation" parasite, money is always more comforting when it's in your own pocket.

"Dad, I'm out of living expenses."
"Dad, my company is short on cash."

See? Both are ways of asking for money, but even a fool can tell the difference. Besides, knowing Chen Tianhong’s personality, his father would surely reject his desire to slack off and might even resort to harsh measures. If his old man could be cold-hearted enough to make him work for others, he could certainly be cold-hearted enough to cut off his funds. Truth be told, with the little princess of the family there to take his place, his father felt that as long as his son was alive, there was no point in counting on him for retirement.

These were the hard constraints forcing him into entrepreneurship. To avoid the humiliation of being sent abroad, he had to make this venture a success over the summer break. Only then could he stand tall and request to put his studies on hold.

There was another vital factor: in an era of such immense dividends, even a pig could be blown into the sky. As someone who knew the trajectory of the next six years, how could Chen Ze possibly be content to walk away from a mountain of cash? He didn't need to look any further than his previous life, where he had become a millionaire through short-video e-commerce. He didn't have dreams of building an eternal empire, but surely, taking a slice of the cake for himself wasn't asking too much, right?

He had family support, experience, knowledge of the future, and the tailwinds of the era. Unlike others who struggled to earn their first pot of gold, constantly crawling forward, feeling their way across the river, and living in fear, entrepreneurship wasn't that hard for him.

Chen Ze’s requirements were modest. Earn a billion, retire, and then spend his time offering "sage" advice from behind his father’s back, all while perfectly enjoying the life of a pampered heir.

The future of real estate looked grim, and construction was a brutal business; his father would definitely need to pivot. But as things stood now, without any accomplishments, he would forever be a spoiled brat in his father's eyes. The world was just like that: if you have no substance, even your own kin won't value you, and your own father will look down on you.

Since this damn system didn't come with any "God-tier Tycoon" features, he would create the capital of a tycoon himself.

***

Entrepreneurship is a painful endeavor, but the achievements one carves out for oneself always bring more satisfaction than those one begs for. Whether he remained just "Chen Tianhong’s son" or became "Chen Ze" depended entirely on the choices he made.

The wine wasn't drunk in vain. The smiles weren't given for nothing. The reason Chen Ze agreed to this meal today and invited Zhang Liang along wasn't just to reminisce.

"Not going to school? Why?"

Guo Jinglin was completely baffled by Chen Ze’s calm declaration, and Zhang Liang was equally stunned. The educational resources in Hebei couldn't compare to Tianjin; in Chen Ze’s hometown county, there were only two high schools, and with around 10,000 middle school graduates each year, about 60 percent couldn't get into high school.

Zhang Liang was one of those who had been filtered out. He had started working after failing to enter high school and was now in Tianjin delivering packages for Brother Dong. To someone like Zhang Liang who had already entered the workforce, school was a precious opportunity—especially studying abroad. Chen Ze’s indifferent tone left him feeling a bit melancholy. He wanted to offer advice, but didn't know how to start.

Unlike him, Guo Jinglin was more concerned about what made Chen Ze think he could pull this off. Before arriving, he’d heard from Guo Qidong that Chen Ze wanted to do business, presumably to gain some experience in failure, but his father hadn't mentioned anything about Chen Ze dropping out.

"It’s not necessarily set in stone," Chen Ze said, taking a bite of food. He held his wine glass, drank with the two bewildered men, and explained, "You should know that I borrowed a few million last night, including 700,000 from your father. I’m determined to make this work. School can wait, but the cake is only so big—if you don't take a bite now, it'll be gone."

"What do you mean?" Guo Jinglin leaned in, curious. It was already 2018; the term "cake" wasn't unfamiliar. "Is the coffee market really that big? That seems like an exaggeration, there are already so many chains."

Hearing the follow-up, Chen Ze finished his food with an air of composure, set down his chopsticks, and said softly, "Even now, the Chinese coffee market is still an unfathomable 'red ocean.' Don't believe me? Take out your phone, order a coffee, and see if you’re satisfied with the experience."

After saying this, Chen Ze turned to Zhang Liang, who was listening intently. "Liangzi, you try ordering a cup too, and then tell me about the process and how you feel."

Chen Ze picked up his chopsticks again. Guo Jinglin and Zhang Liang exchanged a glance and pulled out their phones. The business Chen Ze had mentioned the night before was a coffee brand. While the market already had Starbucks, 85°C, and Luckin, there was still room for growth. He had two choices: coffee or short-form video. He had agonized over it.

If he did coffee, he would synthesize the business and marketing models of Luckin, 85°C, and Manner. He’d even picked a name: "Nova Coffee." He would copy the branding—he could even design it himself to save a fortune in design fees.

If he pursued short-form video, he would synthesize the business models of Xiaohongshu, Douyin, and Neihan Duanzi to create an e-commerce platform based on short videos and lifestyle sharing. He wouldn't compete directly with Douyin or Kuaishou, nor with Toutiao, Xigua, or Bilibili; he only needed to crush Xiaohongshu to establish a foothold. However, this industry was no longer what it had been six or seven years ago; it required massive capital, and crushing Xiaohongshu was extremely difficult.

So, he settled for the next best thing: starting with a coffee brand. He had an edge in coffee—his marketing track record and work experience weren't just for show. And he had a sense for flavor.

***

He was grateful for the time he spent as a corporate drone, which made him fall in love with coffee; he knew exactly what the Chinese market preferred. Furthermore, he had studied the coffee market and its demands during his first attempt at entrepreneurship. He particularly loved "Baijiu Lattes" and even knew the formulas, along with many other products. Drinks like Baijiu Lattes and Coconut Lattes weren't even on the menu for Luckin yet—he had no reason to pass that up.

Chen Ze never aimed too high too soon. Whether he ventured into short-video e-commerce before 2019 depended entirely on how much funding he could raise for his coffee brand. Besides, a coffee brand burned through money quickly, so Chen Ze needed something that could generate quick cash.

"Youcai, how are things in Hangzhou?"

In June 2018, the coffee market was still a blur; there were hardly any formidable players. The newcomer, Luckin Coffee—Lu hadn't been ousted yet, Cotti Coffee hadn't been born, and the other brands had no real scale in Tianjin. 85°C and Starbucks were still perched high above, having yet to develop their mass delivery businesses; they were arrogant to the bone.

Ordering the two coffees, combined with Chen Ze's words, made Guo Jinglin and Zhang Liang feel like they were having an epiphany. But seeing Chen Ze suddenly change the subject, Guo Jinglin was confused. He put down his phone and said casually, "It's alright, pretty fun."

With Zhang Liang present, Guo Jinglin didn't use any flashy jargon; he was afraid of hurting his friend's self-esteem.

Chen Ze was speechless—*all he knows is how to have fun*—but he asked again with patience, "Hangzhou is the capital of e-commerce. Haven't you felt that atmosphere? Don't you have any thoughts on it?"

"Huh?" Guo Jinglin paused. It seemed he really had never thought about it. Chen Ze sighed and continued, "I remember your sister works at a media company, right? Have you never thought about the intersection of media and e-commerce?"

*Stop.* He felt like his brain was starting to grow.

Guo Jinglin wasn't stupid; he seemed to grasp what Chen Ze was getting at. It was no secret in 2018 that e-commerce was lucrative. But... "Big brother, aren't you doing coffee?"

"I have to figure out coffee on my own, and I'm not sure about it yet. But I'm much more bullish on e-commerce."

Having a partner would definitely be good, but if he were to partner for coffee, it wouldn't be Guo Jinglin—the guy would likely just cause trouble. But for e-commerce, he was perfect. First, the Guo family had resources. Second, Guo Jinglin's sister was in Hangzhou. Third, Guo Jinglin was suited for e-commerce. In his previous life, Guo Jinglin had started a media company that touched on Douyin e-commerce; the kid had talent.

A person's energy is limited. Chen Ze was going to do coffee, so he couldn't handle e-commerce himself. But this was an industry that could generate quick cash, and only for these next few years—it would only get more competitive later. To say nothing else, Taobao was starting to slide, but getting into Pinduoduo now was an easy win, and live-stream e-commerce was still an untapped goldmine.

This year, Chen Ze wanted to rake in at least 30 million from the e-commerce sector to nourish his primary business.