Chapter 136: Why Don't You Sell It to Me?

The only change was in how time was recorded—from 1984 to 1985; everything else remained largely the same.

On January 4th, after finishing up the housing loan, Su Mu returned to Silicon Valley to handle matters for Penguin Corporation. Then, on February 19th, Chinese New Year's Eve, he went back home.

He stayed until the fifth day of the New Year, waiting for his parents to complete their move before leaving. All their belongings were already in the new house; he didn’t bring much with him. Su Dingcai wanted to sell the old house in Chinatown, but neither Su Mu nor his grandfather agreed.

The old man had a deep attachment to the house and only reluctantly agreed to move after much deliberation, planning to stay temporarily at the new place.

As for Su Mu, he cared more about the old radio that couldn’t be moved. It was his greatest secret; who knew if it could still receive messages from the future? Better safe than sorry—he was determined to wait for the next solar storm to strike.

During the Spring Festival, Chinese people celebrated while other Americans had no such tradition.

Young and middle-aged workers couldn’t get holidays from their bosses; they hurried home for a reunion dinner, barely making it through the New Year. Many others worked far from home, unable even to return.

From late December until the end of February, Penguin Corporation’s sales fell into a slump, mainly because schools were on break. The salespeople barely earned enough to cover their expenses.

Fortunately, the company had launched a telephone ordering service for individual customers, with one advertisement after another appearing in different newspapers. By the time Su Mu’s school term began, cumulative sales had surpassed six thousand units, keeping the company profitable.

When the school season arrived, the sales teams eagerly paired up and spread out across the United States.

Good news soon followed: compared to the previous year’s second half, after the president advocated for students to begin learning computer technology, most middle and high schools, as well as universities, were willing to purchase personal computers. In just over two weeks, the company earned enough to buy the house in Beverly Hills.

Miss Blake managed the company well, so Su Mu didn’t have to worry too much. He returned to Menlo Park Private High School and scheduled his SAT exam for June or August—there were multiple testing dates throughout the year, allowing flexible choice. With only a few months left to prepare, the pressure was mounting.

In April, Steve Jobs left Apple. Meanwhile, the British Queen signed a bill agreeing to return Hong Kong to China in 1997. The matter caused little disturbance, and Su Mu only learned of it by chance from a newspaper.

Boss Han was resolute, simultaneously selecting locations for three supermarkets. One in Beverly Hills had already opened; the other two were set to open that month, causing Su Mu’s net worth to soar.

Additionally, Penguin Corporation was making a daily profit of thirty thousand dollars—equivalent to a middle-class white-collar worker’s annual income—freeing him from financial worries and allowing him to focus on exam preparation.

Though he was earning money, Su Mu dared not spend recklessly; these funds were capital for expanding into larger business ventures. Miss Blake had recently been helping him research and contact computer parts suppliers to establish his own computer brand.

Winter gave way to spring, and soon it was summer. By early May 1985, the weather in Silicon Valley had grown hot enough to wear shorts and short sleeves comfortably.

On May 3rd, as usual, Su Mu took advantage of the morning’s prime study hours. He was still sharing a rental with Li Zhekai and James, getting along well with no plans to move out for now.

At that moment, he heard James calling him downstairs to answer the phone. Putting down his pen, Su Mu went to the living room and saw that it was Boss Han calling.

After some polite greetings, Boss Han’s voice grew excited: “Su Mu, I’ve got great news! Someone is willing to buy your shares for two million dollars!”

Su Mu’s expression immediately changed. Judging by current developments, the shares he held were worth far more than two million dollars.

One couldn’t simply value a company by its yearly profit—take QuGou Supermarket, for example. Due to investment and expansion, it was still operating at a loss, but in less than half a year, it had grown from one store to five, demonstrating remarkable growth.

The three profitable stores all boasted strong revenues and maintained a profit margin of about six percent. Only someone completely out of touch would sell his shares for a mere two million dollars.

Boss Han rarely called him, and now, unexpectedly, he was trying to treat Su Mu like a fool. Their tacit understanding had long eroded, especially after Black Friday last year ushered in a month-long promotional period. The store near Chinatown alone had sales exceeding 1.4 million dollars.

The second store, near the Dodger Stadium, had just surpassed 1.9 million dollars in first-quarter sales.

Because the company was thriving, Su Mu hadn’t been deeply involved in the supermarket business. He arranged for a third-party accounting firm to audit the books every two weeks. Du Zhong’s father kept an eye on the bank accounts. During the New Year visit to the Du family, Su Mu mentioned concerns about financial security to this trusted uncle, who confidently promised to monitor the company’s funds.

The American business system was well-established; even as the largest shareholder, Boss Han couldn’t misuse company funds arbitrarily. After joining the management, the young Jewish man, Qian Helberg, also helped Su Mu keep tabs on Boss Han’s activities.

Su Mu remained cautious because Boss Han had deliberately excluded him from company affairs—a fact that would be strange if it weren’t intentional.

Feigning surprise, Su Mu sat on the sofa and exclaimed, “Really? Two million dollars? I could sell him ten percent!”

His implication was clear: he valued the company at twenty million dollars.

Boss Han was momentarily speechless, then continued, “No, he wants to buy forty-nine percent of your shares for two million dollars. Opportunities like this don’t come often. You’d better come back soon—two million dollars! How much did we invest originally?”

Realizing Han was trying to condescend, Su Mu laughed bitterly, utterly unconvinced. Han had to know the true value of the company. He shot back, “Do you want to sell your shares? I’m willing to pay three million dollars—fifteen hundred percent premium. You’d be making a fortune!”

There was silence on the other end, perhaps because Su Mu’s response was unexpected. After a moment, Han spoke again: “I’m not joking. Where would you get three million dollars? Who knows how business will go in the future. Selling now is a good idea.”

“Boss Han, I’m not joking either. I can come up with three million dollars. If you want to sell, I’ll have the money on your table this afternoon.

If you think selling is best, then I’ll buy your shares—three million dollars, not a cent less...”