"We don't do paid listings; we recommend cool sites. We pick the best of the week. If the content is good enough, even a high schooler's website can rank first."
"If Webdir is a private club for the rich, we're a free market."
Jerry Yang grew more animated as he spoke. He tossed his cold french fry into the trash, leaned forward, and stared at Fei Luo. "David, even the scraps left over from Silicon Valley Online are enough to feed us. Don't forget, the majority of Internet users are still broke students like us and geeks mooching off school Wi-Fi. If we can capture that traffic, we'll still have a seat at the table."
"If we can just survive, investors will come to us. Don't you want to take a gamble?"
Fei Luo stared at the expensive quote on the screen in silence for a moment.
The suffocating feeling of being crushed by a giant had faded, replaced by a fierce determination, the kind that comes from having nothing to lose.
He straightened his hat, pulled the keyboard closer, and began typing a line of code with a rapid clatter.
"Alright, I never expected to get rich off this anyway. At least it'll annoy that Webdir."
The keyboard clattered again in the cramped trailer, each tap sounding like a declaration of war.
"If we're going to build a marketplace, we need a better name. 'Jerry's Guide' is too clunky, sounds like some boring textbook."
"How about Yahoo?" Jerry Yang suddenly blurted out, his eyes gleaming with cunning. "The race from Gulliver's Travels—rough, uncivilized, but full of vitality."
"Yahoo—" Fei Luo repeated the word, his finger hovering over the Enter key. For the first time in days, a smile spread across his face. "Sounds like a boorish savage. But I like it."
In this corner shadowed by Webdir's looming presence, the two young "savages" decided to pick up the bones scattered at their feet and build their own shack beside the gilded palace.
Though the wheels of history had taken a detour, some things, in the end, would stubbornly resurface.
While their Silicon Valley counterparts were still scratching their heads over HTML code, the Wall Street vampires in their custom suits had a far sharper sense of smell.
The phone switchboard at Silicon Valley Online's headquarters nearly melted down.
Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Merrill Lynch—those investment managers who normally carried themselves with such arrogance that getting a lunch meeting required a three-month wait—now clamored to crawl through the phone lines, just to ask: "Mr. Marshall, when does the second round of funding begin? I've already filled out the check—you name the amount."
Sequoia Capital reacted the fastest, and the most pragmatically.
When Donald Valentine pushed open Frank's office door, he carried a box of expensive Cuban cigars and wore a smile so ingratiating it made one's skin crawl. Just a fortnight earlier, this old man had been frowning at the board meeting, saying, "User growth is slowing; we need to control bandwidth costs." Now he looked like a benevolent grandfather, his eyes on Frank so tender they could have dripped.
"Frank, my genius!" Donald slammed his cigar case onto the table, making himself right at home as he sank into the sofa. "I knew investing in you was Sequoia's best decision of the past decade. Look at these numbers—God Almighty, this isn't just a website, it's a money-printing machine!"
Frank remained seated in his boss's chair, unhurried. He took a slow sip of his long-cold coffee, watching Donald's face split into a grin that stretched like a blooming chrysanthemum. The secret satisfaction he felt was even more exhilarating than an orgasm.
"Donald, I seem to recall you threatening to replace the CEO if bandwidth costs didn't come down?" Frank asked, idly twirling a pen between his fingers, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather.
"Misunderstanding! That was motivation! A sophisticated management technique!" Donald's face remained impassive, his skin as thick as bulletproof glass. "Let's not dwell on that. Regarding Series B, Sequoia has a clear right of first refusal, as the contract states. You know we've always been your staunchest supporters."
Frank smiled, pushing the cigar case back across the table. "Support is mutual, Donald. But it's still too early to discuss Series B."
"Too early?" Donald was anxious. He'd barely settled onto the sofa before he sprang up again. "Those guys at Goldman Sachs are already on their third cup of coffee in the lobby downstairs! And you're telling me it's too early?"
"Precisely because so many people are watching us, we need to stay calm," Frank said, rising and walking to the window to draw the blinds, blocking the reporters peering in downstairs. "Webdir is essentially just a thin layer of paper. The technical barrier is pathetically low—any two college students could copy the code overnight. The numbers look good now, but what about next month? If America Online or some other giant launches something similar, can we maintain our traffic?"
Donald paused, the fervor in his eyes cooling slightly as his business acumen reasserted itself. "Are you saying... there's a risk?"
"A significant one," Frank replied with a straight face, talking nonsense. "So, instead of rushing to secure funding at a low valuation now, why not leak some news first? Say Silicon Valley Online is reassessing its valuation model due to the low technical barrier, and even considering delaying the funding round."
Donald stared at Frank for a few seconds before grinning. He tapped his fingers twice in the air. "You old fox. You want to use my mouth to scare off the copycat investment banks and simultaneously lull potential competitors into a false sense of security?"
"I'm just trying to maximize value for our shareholders," Frank said with a shrug and an innocent expression. "Sequoia wouldn't want ten identical websites popping up the day after they invest, siphoning off traffic, would they? This is just a smokescreen."
Donald frowned. "But if we let those competitors into the market, our Webdir's value will plummet."
A smirk played on Frank's lips. "Not necessarily. How many rivals can match Silicon Valley Online's influence and advantages? The money we spent on the Silicon Valley Online BBS wasn't wasted. This is where we'll shine. Even with competitors, the biggest slice of the pie will still belong to Silicon Valley Online."
"I get it," Donald said, grabbing the cigar box and shoving it back into Frank's hand. "I'll handle those rumors.
But remember this: Series B must leave the lion's share for Sequoia. Otherwise, I'm not leaving your office."
Watching Donald hurry away, Frank's composed facade crumbled. He snatched the cigar box, kissed it fiercely, and turned to wink at Tom Kalinske, who had just entered. "See? That's called leverage. This move is perfect—it raises our valuation while making Sequoia our free shield.
"This is how you play the game."
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