Chapter 65: Upon Encountering Storms, One Transforms into a Dragon
To think that someone actually wanted to buy Foxmail, Lin Haiquan was truly moved to tears. Speaking of Foxmail, it was an object of deep and complicated feelings for Bodda Corporation.
In truth, Bodda's acquisition of Foxmail wasn't such a distant event—just over a year ago. A year earlier, Bodda had paid the staggering sum of twelve million yuan as a bride price to bring Foxmail home. This was absolutely the most sensational news in the entire internet industry at the time. After all, back in 1999, even half of QQ had sold for only 1.2 million US dollars. It could be said that, in Bodda’s eyes, Foxmail was a product on par with QQ.
And with good reason. Foxmail had debuted in 1997, releasing an English version at the same time. By the time it was acquired by Bodda Network in 2000, Foxmail already boasted four million registered users within the country.
What did this mean? At the start of 2000, even Tenda only had about as many users. Meanwhile, Foxmail had also won the affection of many international users. After the launch of its English version, it had amassed hundreds of thousands of users across more than twenty countries around the world—a truly astonishing achievement for Chinese software in 2000.
So, in the eyes of Bodda’s executives in 2000, Foxmail was a hot commodity. At the time, the concept of email was being hyped far more than instant messaging software. “E-mail”—the English word’s transliteration—had become synonymous with the internet in the country. Basically, when people mentioned the internet, they inevitably mentioned “e-mail.”
Back then, Foxmail was considered a gold mine by many. Bodda Network truly acquired Foxmail with the greatest affection and hope.
But when Bodda actually took over the Foxmail project from Zhang Xiaolong, they quickly discovered its fatal flaw: while Foxmail had a vast user base, it had no path to profitability.
From the outset, Foxmail had been designed as a free email client. At the time, Zhang Xiaolong hadn’t intended to make money from it. Now that Bodda had taken over—having invested twelve million yuan in cold, hard cash—they naturally wanted to see a return. But they soon found that there was no reasonable way to monetize Foxmail.
Some might say, “That’s nonsense! Just start charging a monthly subscription for the email service!”
Alas, that was completely unfeasible. First of all, at that time, there were no convenient online payment tools. Online payments could only be made through phone billing or prepaid cards, making the purchase of monthly subscriptions extremely difficult. Second, users had already become accustomed to the free model. If you suddenly started charging, those four million users would vanish overnight—especially with NetEase Mail hungrily eyeing Foxmail’s market share!
At that time, all internet products in China had risen to prominence by being free—none could survive on charging users, except for online games. Even the online game industry’s monthly subscription model would soon be corrupted by a certain snake oil salesman.
If Foxmail wasn’t making money but could continue to grow rapidly, that would be fine—Bodda could go public and survive on hype, as most Chinese internet companies did, living off financial injections. But Foxmail’s user base had started to shrink, and that was the most fatal problem. In hindsight, many would cite competition from NetEase Mail, Sina Mail, and other rivals as the chief cause of Foxmail’s failure. But in reality, it was Zhang Xiaolong’s own missteps that were to blame.
First, Zhang Xiaolong refused to embrace web-based email, stubbornly clinging to the client-based model. This deprived Foxmail of the convenience of webmail. For users, the main reason for choosing an email service was simple: fast startup and instant access with a single click.
Second, Foxmail grew increasingly bloated. Zhang Xiaolong insisted that the future of email lay in security, so subsequent updates focused on anti-spam, anti-hacking, and anti-theft features. This made the client ever more cumbersome, slower to launch, and lacking user-friendly features like email attachments and password-free login.
Finally, Bodda itself failed to deliver. In the future, NetEase Mail, Sina Mail, and QQ Mail would all be backed by powerful internet companies and product ecosystems. Foxmail, however, always fought alone. Bodda Network never helped Foxmail expand into new ventures, and in the end, it became ever more stagnant, sealing its own fate.
Though Foxmail was still far from its demise, Bodda Games was already feeling the burden—it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep Foxmail afloat.
After deliberation, Bodda’s management concluded there were two options for Foxmail’s survival. The first was to find a new product line, allowing Foxmail to stand on two legs. The acquisition of OO was one of their key strategies, and a victory Zhang Xiaolong had fought hard to win—after all, Foxmail was his brainchild, and he couldn’t bear to let it go.
The second option was to sell Foxmail while it still seemed valuable, to revive the company’s finances.
Lin Haiquan and his team had come to Jiangnan intending to pursue the first path, but found it completely blocked. Just as they were preparing to return home in defeat, an unexpected turn presented itself—someone was actually willing to pay twenty million for Foxmail. Lin Haiquan was instantly elated.
Of course, Lin Haiquan wasn’t shameless enough to immediately return and discuss selling Foxmail with Huang He. It would be too humiliating, and in any case, the decision was not his to make—it required the approval of Zhu Yue!
So, with one arm around Zhang Xiaolong and declaring Foxmail a non-negotiable asset, Lin Haiquan hurried back to the hotel and called Zhu Yue to report what had happened and ask for instructions.
“Wouldn’t that be a little unfair to Xiaolong?” Zhu Yue hesitated after hearing Lin Haiquan’s proposal. “Besides, I consulted Master Lin from Hong Kong, and he said Zhang Xiaolong is a hidden dragon who will become a legend when opportunity arises!”
So, rather than worry whether selling was inappropriate, Zhu Yue’s main concern was whether it would be unfair to Zhang Xiaolong. His attitude was clear: Foxmail was a money-losing venture, and they saw no hope of profitability.
“Boss, this is our only chance to escape!” Lin Haiquan urged eagerly. If this deal went through, his commission alone would be enough to buy a one-bedroom apartment in the capital.
“It’s rare to find a fool willing to take this mess off our hands. If we miss this chance, there won’t be another. Besides, we don’t need to worry about Xiaolong—our buyer specifically wants to take Zhang Xiaolong along as part of the deal. That way, Xiaolong can stay with his beloved project, which is the best outcome for him.”
“And honestly, it’s a good thing someone is willing to take Xiaolong. To put it bluntly, he’s a brilliant developer, but he’s just not suited to business. He’s already fallen behind the times. Foxmail was a stroke of genius, but he’ll never come up with something as good again.”
“All that talk about hidden dragons transforming at the first sign of wind and cloud—that’s just something novelists make up. Besides, in the end, even the hero in that story was tricked and brought down, wasn’t he? Xiaolong’s fate is set—there’s no need to worry about him.” Zhang Xiaolong could never have imagined that the very person who had just put his arm around him and assured him Foxmail was not for sale—Lin Haiquan—was now persuading the boss to sell him along with Foxmail.