The team members were all set, and the next day, Gu Chuan went to the telecom company to handle matters related to the server and bandwidth.
After learning that he was a college student starting a business, a staff member at the telecom company advised him to rent a server. That would keep the initial investment lower, and require almost no technical expertise for ongoing maintenance.
After all, starting a business as a college student was quite risky.
However, Gu Chuan still chose to buy his own server and have it hosted.
Although this meant a higher initial investment and some technical demands for ongoing maintenance, the long-term costs would be much lower, and he would have greater autonomy.
He was very confident in this project of his, after all, it had already been proven by those who came before him.
He chose a relatively low fixed-bandwidth option, which could be upgraded as the number of users grew.
Once these matters were settled, the website entered the formal development phase.
First, they took care of purchasing and licensing software such as the operating system and database. Then they officially began developing the website.
The seven members of the team spent nearly all their time cooped up in this cramped studio. They worked almost around the clock, and forgetting to eat lunch was a regular occurrence.
Several members of the team were third-year students who still had classes. Much of the time, whoever had a class during the last period of the morning would bring lunch back for the others.
If none of them had a class during the last period of the morning, they would most likely forget to eat lunch.
At first, everyone thought the salary Gu Chuan offered was quite high. Only after they actually started working did they realize they were literally risking their lives for that money!
In fact, the salary was only a secondary reason for working so hard. More importantly, they could see the enormous potential of this project if it took off.
But since this was a team hastily thrown together, they had no rapport to speak of at first. They stumbled at every turn, and none of them had much experience, so they argued constantly.
Gu Chuan was the most experienced of them all. The half-year he had spent working with a project team during his internship in his previous life hadn’t been for nothing; he coordinated the whole operation.
The problem with his team wasn’t that they didn’t know how to work; it was that they were too good at it. Everyone had their own ideas, and they often argued until they were at each other’s throats.
At first, they were still wary of Gu Chuan because he was the boss. But once they got worked up, they attacked everyone without distinction, and even Gu Chuan had lost count of how many times he’d been chewed out.
After more than ten days of working together, they finally began to develop some rapport. The arguments gradually died down—partly because they were all exhausted and simply couldn’t argue anymore.
Whenever they encountered technical difficulties, they asked their respective mentors. The whole team was growing rapidly, quickly coming together as one.
A month flew by. On the evening of the exact one-month anniversary of the project’s start,
Gu Chuan walked into the studio and clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Everyone, put your work on hold for a moment. Today, we’re going to… pay your salaries!”
The few of them were stunned. They were getting paid? A whole month had passed? They hadn’t even noticed!
They were all young, and Gu Chuan wasn’t one for the boss’s usual speechmaking routine. He simply handed out an envelope to each person, then took out one more and gave it to Ye Xuchen.
Gu Chuan beamed. “It’s payday today. No coding tonight—I’m taking everyone out for a big feast! From now on, you’re the first veterans of Haisheng Technology!”
Everyone cheered, shouting that they were going to eat their stingy boss out of house and home. With arms slung around one another, they left the warehouse.
After they left, the people in the studio next door all looked resentfully at the person in charge of leading their project.
“Brother Hao, I want to get paid too!”
“Yeah, we want to get paid too!”
The project team members chimed in as one.
This place had originally been an abandoned warehouse. The individual rooms had all been partitioned off temporarily. They had some soundproofing, but not much.
Although they couldn’t hear the conversations next door under normal circumstances, the commotion over payday was so loud that, being right beside them, they’d naturally heard it.
Wang Hao slapped the table. “What do you mean, getting paid? How short-sighted! If they get salaries, that means the project has succeeded. Apart from Gu Chuan, they’re all just employees. Other than their paychecks, they have nothing to do with the project.
But you’re different. As long as our project succeeds, everyone here will be a founder—and you’ll all own shares!”
The others thought he had a point. They’d only been joking around, after all. They had formed a team in the first place because they wanted to start a business together.
Seeing that everyone had stopped complaining, Wang Hao breathed a sigh of relief.
As if! If I had money to pay salaries, would I be working with you instead of hiring people?
“Our project testing is in its final stage. Let’s pick up the pace and try to get everything done tonight. We’ll start the trial run tomorrow.”
“Brother Hao, isn’t that a bit rushed?”
Wang Hao lowered his voice mysteriously. “Do you know why we’ve been rushing to meet deadlines lately? Because I heard that the team next door is also working on something social. I don’t know exactly what it is, but social networking apps and platforms are all pretty similar. If we get the word out and attract users before they do, they won’t even get the scraps!
We can’t beat Tencent, but surely we can beat them, right?”
At his words, everyone’s eyes lit up. Without another word, they grabbed their keyboards and got to work. Soon, the entire office was filled with the clatter of typing.
Meanwhile, Gu Chuan and the others were still raising their glasses and drinking, completely unaware of what was happening.
The next day, Gu Chuan and the others were all jolted awake by a scream.
Gu Chuan shot upright in fright and saw Ning Lei clutching his butt and howling beside the bed right next to his.
“Ah! I was sleeping! Who kicked me out of bed?”
When he stood up and looked, Liu Peng was sprawled across the bed in front of him, taking up most of the space. He was staring at Ning Lei with bleary eyes.
No need to ask. They must have gotten drunk the night before and squeezed into one bed, and then Liu Peng had kicked him out that morning.
Ning Lei marched over and kicked Liu Peng twice.
“Damn it, you kicked me out of bed and you still want to sleep?”
The two of them started tussling.
Gu Chuan looked around. They were in his dormitory. They’d all gotten completely smashed the previous night, and he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten back.
He vaguely remembered staggering back and collapsing onto his own bed. Someone seemed to have lunged at him, trying to steal it, so he’d kicked that person away—maybe right over to the other side?
Across from Gu Chuan, Ye Xuchen was also trying to remember. The night before, he’d just lain down when someone seemed to lunge at him. He’d been startled and, in his confusion, had apparently slapped the person hard.
Gu Chuan and Ye Xuchen exchanged a glance, guiltily searching for the victim.
By then, Liu Peng and Ning Lei had stopped tussling. Liu Peng asked in confusion, “Hey, Ning Lei, why is the left side of your face a little swollen?”
“A little swollen? I didn’t fall on my face.” Ning Lei felt his cheek. “Now that you mention it, it does hurt quite a bit—like someone slapped me hard.”
As he spoke, Ning Lei got out of bed and stood up. But the moment he did, he looked down and saw a clear footprint stamped across his white T-shirt.
Before he could get a closer look, Gu Chuan darted over and quickly brushed the footprint off his shirt, covering up the evidence.
“How’d your shirt get dirty? Did you fall last night? I vaguely remember you taking a tumble when you came back.”
Ning Lei thought it over carefully. “Could I really have fallen? But why does my stomach hurt? It feels like someone kicked me. My face hurts a little too…”
Ye Xuchen coughed. “Ahem… Don’t dwell on it. We can’t remember anyway. We’d better get cleaned up and head to the studio. At most, we’ve got another week before our website is ready for testing!”