The meeting place was a quiet café in downtown Los Angeles. Lin Baicheng had arranged to meet Wade Thomas there — the same young Goldman Sachs executive he had been introduced to earlier through Phil Smith.
"Mr. Thomas."
"Mr. Lin!"
They exchanged smiles and handshakes. Wade Thomas, only in his early thirties, had already risen to an executive position at Goldman Sachs — young, sharp, and clearly destined for greater things.
After a few pleasantries, Lin went straight to the point.
"Mr. Thomas, I asked Goldman to help me acquire shares in Microsoft and Apple. How is that progressing?"
Wade Thomas's confident smile never faltered. "Mr. Lin, please have faith in Goldman's capability. We won't disappoint you."
He took a sip of coffee before continuing, "Our people have already contacted the shareholders of both companies. They're new and ambitious startups, and neither is rejecting the idea of Goldman investing. Negotiations are ongoing regarding valuation and share percentages."
Lin nodded slightly. "Of course, I trust Goldman's expertise. Otherwise, I would have gone to another investment bank. But tell me — what valuations did you give Microsoft and Apple, and what do their founders believe they're worth?"
Thomas chuckled. "Neither company is highly valued right now, and their revenues are modest. Especially Microsoft — their business looks small-scale. Apple, on the other hand, does have a promising personal computer. It might perform decently, but who can say for sure?"
He lowered his voice a little, as though sharing a secret.
"For Microsoft, we've placed the valuation at $1.5 million. However, the two young founders — Bill Gates and Paul Allen — are quite confident. They believe their company is worth at least $5 million. Naturally, we won't accept that. We're confident we can bring the valuation down to under $2 million."
"As for Apple," Thomas continued, "they introduced their personal computer at the West Coast Computer Fair this April — the first of its kind in human history. It doesn't seem particularly useful yet, but curiosity has driven some sales. We've valued Apple at $3 million. Their team, however, believes $8 million is more accurate, which is obviously unrealistic. We think we can negotiate it down to $4 million or less."
"Unlike Microsoft, Apple has taken out loans from the bank. If their computer doesn't sell, those debts will crush them. That's why they're more eager to bring in new investors."
Thomas leaned back, clearly amused. To him, this was just another small deal Goldman wouldn't normally touch — two obscure startups and one wealthy Hong Kong client with more enthusiasm than caution. But Goldman would earn a tidy commission, and that was what mattered.
Lin listened silently, a spark flickering in his eyes.
He hadn't expected the valuations to be this low — practically dirt cheap when compared to what he knew of their future worth.
The phrase "白菜价," he thought to himself — as cheap as cabbage.
The chance to buy into both companies at these prices? He could hardly believe his luck.
"How much equity are they willing to give up?" Lin asked calmly.
"For Apple," Thomas said, "their angel investor, Mike Markkula, is willing to sell half of his shares — that's 15%. The other shareholders are open to selling another 15%, so together, that's 30% of the company."
"Microsoft's ownership is more concentrated. Gates and Allen hold nearly everything. Allen's willing to sell 15%, but Gates only 5%. He believes too much in the company's future to part with more."
Thomas smiled politely. "Still, getting 30% of either company is quite generous. Any more, and you risk the founders losing control — which is bad for growth."
Lin nodded thoughtfully. That was fine by him. If he took too much, it might backfire; ambitious founders could always walk away and start over. But with enough equity to matter — and the foresight of what these names would one day become — this was already a dream scenario.
He leaned forward. "Mr. Thomas, about Apple. Since you valued it at three million, I'll double that. Offer them a $6 million valuation, and I'll invest $1.8 million for 30% of the shares. Please proceed as soon as possible."
Thomas's eyes widened a little. Lin wasn't haggling — he was overpaying willingly.
Lin continued, "For Microsoft, if they insist on a $5 million valuation, fine — but I want 30% of the company. If they'll only sell 20%, then I'll invest $3 million instead. They can decide."
Thomas nearly whistled in surprise. "Mr. Lin, with valuations that generous, I'm certain we'll reach an agreement very soon."
Inwardly, he was already calculating. If Goldman helped Lin secure even 10% of either company's shares, Goldman itself would earn an easy $500,000 in commission. If he could persuade the founders to sell just a little more, the bonus would double — with zero additional effort.
For Thomas, this was a perfect deal. For Lin, it was an investment in destiny.
Lin smiled faintly. "Then I'll wait for your good news."
As they shook hands, Lin couldn't help but think that every dollar spent here would multiply a thousandfold in the future. Compared to the fortune that awaited him, this was nothing — a seed investment before the harvest of an era.
"Mr. Lin," Thomas said warmly as they parted, "you just wait for the good news. Goldman will make it happen."
And Lin Baicheng, walking out of the café into the cool California sunlight, was certain of one thing — history was about to be rewritten.