"How can you be such a freak?" Wang Congcong exclaimed, then went on, "The first time I tried golf, I swung and missed several times in a row. My dad even teased me for looking ridiculous."
Jiang Cheng joked, "I guess only your dad would dare laugh at you."
Recalling how silly he'd looked, Wang Congcong couldn't help chuckling.
"Of course. At first I just couldn't get it right, and my pro coach was pulling his hair out."
Zheng Zhigang ambled over, still smiling, stepped onto the tee, and asked curiously, "So how long did it take you to get the hang of it?"
Wang Congcong glanced back at the caddies and answered with a grin, "Actually not long. I swapped in a female caddie; she gave me a couple of hands-on pointers and I saw the light."
The moment the words left his mouth, the two caddies he'd picked instantly shot him covert, flirtatious looks.
Wang Congcong struck a devil-may-care pose and slung an arm around each of their shoulders.
After all, times had changed; their line of work was no longer limited to basic course upkeep and swing tips.
As long as a client had needs and was willing to pay, everyone could offer more intimate, "hands-on instruction."
Such "hands-on instruction" usually meant closer physical contact and interaction, sometimes even stretching exercises.
For certain guests, that extra layer of experience added plenty of fun.
And for the caddies, it was an additional source of income.
Right now the four of them were practically praying Jiang Cheng and Wang Congcong would take an interest.
When Wang Congcong finished, Jiang Cheng and Zheng Zhigang exchanged a knowing smile, as if by tacit agreement.
Zheng Zhigang swung; the ball took off.
It landed about the same distance as Wang Congcong's shot.
Zheng Zhigang chuckled and said, "Looks like Jiang Cheng's still the long-drive champion—impressive, huh?"
He turned to Jiang Cheng and added, "About what you mentioned yesterday, I went back, gave it serious thought, even called an overnight meeting. We're re-planning K11's interior space and retuning its artistic theme. Before, we leaned heavily on eighties- and nineties-style Hong Kong Island nostalgia—Lan Kwai Fong street scenes and the like. Now I want to fuse old Shanghai with new-century elements, create a unique clash of designs..."
Jiang Cheng waved a casual hand. "I was just speaking off the cuff; I'm no expert, don't take it too seriously."
"No, it has to be taken seriously!" Zheng Zhigang replied at once. "What you said is hugely instructive. When the project's finished, you must come and see it in person."
Wang Congcong, who'd been listening quietly, finally couldn't contain his curiosity. "Jiang Cheng, what priceless advice did you give him? Lay some on me—I'm stumped lately."
Zheng Zhigang explained, "I ran into him yesterday at IFC. I wanted to check out the new Chow Tai Fook that just opened there, and to scout the place—you know IFC's foot traffic is top-three in Shanghai, way above my K11. I'd already visited several malls, and who should I bump into but Jiang Cheng."
Seeing how driven Zheng Zhigang was, Wang Congcong thought, Damn, the competition is brutal.
Company's Shanghai rankings were even lower, yet he'd never considered doing something for the family business.
Compared with Zheng Zhigang, he wondered if he was too laid-back.
But he quickly brushed the thought aside.
His situation was different.
The Wang family had only him, no rivals—why grind?
He hadn't joined Company management yet,
partly because he wasn't up to it,
partly because he simply didn't want to take over.
With that, Wang Congcong said half-heartedly, "So that's how it is. Sounds like Jiang Cheng gave you some key pointers."
Zheng Zhigang nodded excitedly. "Absolutely. A lot of our previous models were copied straight from Hong Kong Island. We thought that was a feature. The team never raised the issue; meetings were just praise-fests with no real input."
Wang Congcong burst into laughter. "The boss is always right; underlings would rather be safely mediocre than risk making a mistake."
Zheng Zhigang sighed. "The work culture on the mainland is very different from Hong Kong Island. Honestly, part of the problem is mine—I've simply spent too little time here. I still don't understand the culture and social environment well enough."
Jiang Cheng clapped Zheng Zhigang on the shoulder. "No worries—come visit more often. China's huge, and there are plenty of fun places around here."
"True, the growth potential is greater on the mainland—vast land, vast market, vast opportunities for start-ups."
"Big opportunities, but tough going," Wang Congcong said, frowning. "Too many deep-pocketed players; every industry is full of pitfalls."
"What's wrong?" Jiang Cheng asked, already knowing the answer.
"My 'Hairy-Chest TV' is scrambling for funding—you've heard, right?"
"I have. Zhi Gang brought it up when we talked yesterday," Jiang Cheng said with a nod.
"So? You interested too?" Wang Congcong looked at Zheng Zhigang, surprised and hopeful.
Zheng Zhigang gave a slight nod and smiled. "Yes, I've been thinking. On the mainland I've stuck to physical industries—Xpeng, Nio, that sort of thing. Recently I dipped a toe into JD Logistics. But I'd like to try the internet space as well."
The moment the words left Zheng Zhigang's lips, a spark of delight flashed in Wang Congcong's eyes.
Yet the delight was quickly eclipsed by worry.
Zheng Zhigang went on, "Actually, both Live Streaming Platform and HuZhi are preparing rounds of their own. Back in May I considered HuZhi's Series C, hesitated, and ultimately passed."
He sighed softly, clearly regretting the decision.
Wang Congcong's cheeks puffed for a second. "From what I heard, HuZhi closed 75 million in Series C, but that money's almost gone. They'll have to launch Series D soon."
"The internet really burns cash."
"You seem keen," Wang Congcong pressed. "Hairy-Chest TV has huge potential; we're lining up Series B. Want in?"
Zheng Zhigang smiled politely. "To be frank, I'm not bullish on live streaming. It feels like a flash-in-the-pan trend, and I'm not much for high-stakes gambles."
Wang Congcong didn't push; he merely looked resigned. "A few months ago Hairy-Chest TV was the hottest ticket in town. Now, when we need money, no one wants to look at us…"
He wasn't exaggerating—equity chaos had made outside investors wary.
If the trend continued, the Company would run out of cash.
Operations would stall.
What awaited him was failure and bankruptcy.
Seeing Wang Congcong's gloom, Jiang Cheng patted his shoulder. "The live-streaming pie is only so big. With Live Streaming Platform and HuZhi dominating, unless you can break past them…"
As he spoke, Jiang Cheng accepted the No. 3 club Xu Ya handed over.
He set up, eyeing the dark hole, eager to take his shot.
This time he skipped the rim play and drove straight in.
As the club swept forward, Xu Ya squeaked, "Ah, Young Master Jiang—amazing, you went straight in!"
Heidi rolled her eyes at Xu Ya's theatrics.
Still, she chimed in, "Indeed, Young Master Jiang, your skill rivals veteran golfers."
Jiang Cheng ignored their flattery.
Seeing the clean shot, Zheng Zhigang applauded. "You've definitely got me beat."