Chapter 114: Qiu Bojun's Insight

Lei Jun had a nagging question in his mind: the two lines of erroneous code in Wang Xunfei’s program did not seem to have any logical connection issues with the surrounding lines. Yet, upon closer analysis, it appeared they had been inserted deliberately. He wondered what Wang Xunfei’s motive could be. Was it a precaution against his own employees? That seemed unnecessary.

Lei Jun preferred focusing on programming; whenever he thought about interpersonal relationships, he felt a headache coming on. Since he couldn't figure it out, he decided to stop thinking about it. Upon returning to the company, he bypassed his own office and headed straight for Qiu Bojun’s. He decided to report the day's events to Qiu, confident that the software would pique the interest of the boss as well.

"Boss Qiu, it’s Lei Jun." He knocked politely on the door.

Qiu Bojun was intently focused on his computer, his hands tapping the keyboard occasionally, interspersed with flipping through paper documents on his desk. It wasn't until the second knock that he looked up and said casually, "Oh, Little Lei, come in. What is it?" He then lowered his head back to his work.

Lei Jun stepped into the office, closed the door gently, and said, "Boss Qiu, there is something important I would like to discuss with you."

"Hm?" Qiu Bojun set his work aside and looked up. This capable lieutenant of his rarely approached him so solemnly.

"I met with Wang Xunfei today. He has a small piece of software in his possession that I find highly valuable. Of course, the software itself is quite simple, and our programmers here could develop it as well. However, the underlying concept is brilliant—something not everyone could conceive. I believe that when the internet becomes widespread, the commercial value of this software will be immeasurable." Lei Jun spoke in a measured, steady tone, laying out his thoughts. "As it stands now, its function is simply to allow text-based communication between two machines on a local area network..."

"Oh? Isn't that similar to email?" Qiu Bojun’s gaze shifted entirely away from his computer as he asked seriously.

"It’s not email; it’s real-time instant messaging. Two machines, connected via network ports—on the screen, you see a chat window, allowing for direct conversation. In the future, when the internet is ubiquitous, people scattered across the globe will only need an internet connection, a computer, and this software to chat. You type what you want to say, click send, and the other party sees it immediately. It doesn't require an email system. Of course, that technology is harder to implement than our current LAN setup, but I believe the reach of the internet will eventually meet the needs of this software." Lei Jun’s tone remained calm, but his expression grew increasingly animated as he contemplated the future.

Qiu Bojun pondered for a moment before asking, "Even if it is as you say, it’s just a chat tool. At best, it could serve as a peripheral for other products, much like our original concept for Kingsoft’s online customer service—where customers submit inquiries via the network, and we answer them..." Qiu seemed to recall something else and added, "Oh, it could also serve as a communication tool for games. Two people playing *Xuan-Yuan Sword* from different locations could chat about strategies and progress without needing a phone. But regardless, this small software remains an accessory to other products. You don't expect to charge for chatting like a paging center or a telephone, do you? That would be very difficult to achieve; it lacks significant commercial value."

Lei Jun was taken aback. He hadn't expected this reaction. Anxious, he quickly interjected, "Boss Qiu, that’s not the case. I believe this software can exist independently. Initially, we wouldn't need to charge any fees. We would need to invest significant capital in the first few years, but once usage habits are established, we could develop peripherals for it. For example, we could implement a membership system where users accumulate points to level up. Higher levels could allow for longer messages, while free users might have a daily limit. These are just preliminary ideas. If that’s not feasible, we could grant members the ability to send images—though that would depend on the development of the network. Don't worry about whether people will buy memberships; once they get used to it, everything else will follow. It’s like a telephone—if our company didn't have a single phone, how would we transmit information? We’d be in a panic."

Qiu Bojun seemed unmoved. He shook his head and said, "Little Lei, what you say may have some merit, but we are currently focusing on the WPS word processing system. I hear Microsoft is launching a new Windows system, and we don't know enough about it yet. We need to gather information quickly. The company is going through a difficult period, and we don't have the energy to consider other development directions. If you think that software is good, you can develop it in your spare time. Once the internet becomes widespread, we can trial it on a small scale, and if the company has sufficient funds later, we can support you in continuing the project. How does that sound?"

"Boss Qiu..." Lei Jun was even more anxious. "I’ve thought about it carefully. I only have a rough concept for the commercial implementation, but I think Wang Xunfei must have more ideas. If we could cooperate with him, we could definitely get this project off the ground. If we lack funds, we can seek venture capital."

"Wang Xunfei is capable and bold, but he isn't grounded. Your skills and intelligence, Little Lei, are on par with his, but you have the advantage of being steady and hardworking. However, your performance today seems a bit restless, and I feel I must set aside my work to have a serious talk with you." Qiu Bojun gestured for Lei Jun to sit. After taking a sip of water, he continued, "When I started this business, I spent a whole year alone in a small room writing WPS. As a programmer, you must have that kind of perseverance. With that perseverance, you will be cautious and steady when making judgments. Take the software you mentioned—you have a rough idea, and you are already rushing to cooperate with Wang Xunfei and seeking venture capital. Setting aside Kingsoft’s current situation, even if we had enough capital to expand, can you tell me how long you expect the internet to become widespread in the world and in China? After it becomes widespread, how long will it take for people to get into the habit of using this software to communicate? Once that habit is formed, can you predict how many peripheral businesses can be developed to realize its commercial value? If you can put all of this into a detailed budget and a comprehensive plan—how much funding is needed for R&D each year, how much for operations, and in how many years it will see a return—then we can talk. Of course, no new business can be budgeted with perfect accuracy, but the risk must be reduced to below thirty percent after budgeting before it’s worth considering. Therefore, I must regretfully decline your proposal."

Qiu Bojun's words brought Lei Jun back to earth. They made a lot of sense; he had indeed been a bit reckless. Yet, he did not abandon his expectations for the software. Deep down, he had an intuition that this software would one day shine brightly.

His current task was to help Qiu Bojun—the man who had recognized his talent—to guide Kingsoft through this critical growth phase. Afterwards, he would find the time to draft a detailed plan for the instant messaging software as Qiu had suggested. He felt he had enough time; he could build a better version than Wang Xunfei’s. He firmly believed that within two to three years, before the internet entered its high-growth phase, there would still be plenty of time.

"Boss Qiu, you are right," Lei Jun said, nodding firmly. "I understand what I need to do. I will take my leave now."

"Good, Little Lei, keep up the hard work." Qiu Bojun smiled with satisfaction and returned to his complex tasks.

Meanwhile, Wang Xunfei received a call from Jiang Xiwen, warning him not to run the erroneous software code.

"Xiwen, don't worry. I won't look at your software until I have officially purchased it," Wang Xunfei replied. "Why are you calling to remind me at this hour?"

With the latter half of his sentence, Wang Xunfei was testing Jiang Xiwen. It was too much of a coincidence; just as he was wondering if Jiang had some ulterior motive or if he had intentionally given him the wrong disk, Jiang had called.

Xiwen chuckled. "I improved the software again today and remembered that the one you accidentally took was the initial version with severe bugs. I didn't want to make this call, but Fatty Qi kept insisting that you have a very curious nature and would likely be unwilling to let it go, trying to complete the remaining code. He said he’s been your buddy for years and knows your temperament. Hearing him say that, I was afraid that if you were running my program while having unsaved important data on your computer, a system crash would cause trouble, so I hurried to call and warn you."

"Haha, Fatty Qi really knows me. But whether or not to look at the software is a matter of professional ethics. No matter how curious I am, I wouldn't touch it." Of course, Wang Xunfei couldn't admit that he had already opened it and tried to complete the code.